The sirens’ screaming was less than a block away. The police-car and ambulance lights flashed so brightly I had to turn away and face the hill that rose behind the library. “What other woman problems did he have?”
Marla sighed. “His girlfriend is Patricia Ingersoll.”
“Patricia Ingersoll? The head of Losers?”
“The very one. I’m sure the head of a local weight-loss group hopes one day to put you, O lover of cream, out of business. Poor thing, it’s only been a year and a half since cancer killed Frank. I think she’s still on the rebound from losing him. Still, I heard Patricia had cheered up when she and Drew Wellington set a wedding date.”
I wanted to say, You heard that from whom? But one of the sirens had stopped. The prowler lights flashing through the pines had also ceased their shak
