“First the incident with Virginia and now this. You must think I’m paranoid.” Lucy sat at the Harston’s kitchen table, her hands absently picking through a stack of flattened white paperboard bakery boxes.
Nelia gave Drayco a quick “She took the words right out of my mouth” look as she packed away lifting tape with its freshly captured powdered prints. Nelia said diplomatically, “It’s not unusual for burglaries to take place during funerals. But you say you haven’t found anything missing?”
Lucy pushed the stack of boxes away. “No, but the would-be thief couldn’t know we had nothing valuable. Guess I get the last laugh.”
As with Beth’s house, Drayco and Nelia found no signs of forced entry or ransacking—no items pulled haphazardly out of dressers, no closets hurriedly emptied. Nelia had
