Beatrice was finishing up her glass of lemonade and was about to get ready to leave, herself, when she spotted Ramsay heading her way. He raised a hand, and she pointed to one of the empty seats next to her.
He joined her, sitting down with a plop. “How are you, Beatrice? Aside from being at a funeral, I mean.”
“I think the question is more how are you doing, Ramsay? I know it’s always tough to find time to even eat or sleep during these investigations.”
“It is. Meadow’s been fussing at me, of course. At least she’s distracted with the baby today. But it’s one of those cases where it just doesn’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. Everything seems to be leading to a dead end.” He shrugged and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Beatrice said, “I d have a question for you. Do you know why Sylvia di
