Free Crossing the Lion (a Reigning Cats and Dog) (2010) by Cynthia Baxter Page B

out, and believe me, hewas definitely showing signs of aging. After all, he’d just turned seventy-five.”
    Thoughtfully, I commented, “Seventy-five seems to be an age at which some people still seem young while others—well, not so much. I suppose it depends on genetics, as well as an individual’s lifestyle and general health.”
    I was thinking of Betty. Winston, too. They were both around Linus’s age, yet they seemed as sharp and as energetic as other people I knew who were in their fifties or even younger.
    But, according to Harry, that wasn’t the case with Linus.
    “Was his performance at work starting to reflect his age?” I asked.
    Harry frowned. “Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly helping.”
    The sound of someone clearing his throat prompted me to turn. Winston was standing in the doorway, the wet splatters on the shoulders of his bright yellow slicker telling me he’d returned to Solitude Island from the early-morning appointment on Long Island he’d mentioned after dinner.
    Frankly, I would have liked another five minutes alone with Harry. But now that Winston had joined us, I looked up at him and smiled.
    “Good morning, Winston,” I greeted him. “Pull up a chair and—”
    It was only then that I noticed his troubled expression.
    “Is everything all right?” I asked, my smile fading.
    “I wish it were,” he replied.
    Harry frowned. “What’s going on?”
    “I think I’d better talk to the entire family at once,” Winston said somberly. Nodding toward Harry, he added, “You and Scarlett, as well.”
    “What’s all this about?” Harry asked.
    Winston took a deep breath before replying, “I just got back from that meeting with the medical examiner’s office in Riverton. There have been some important developments surrounding Linus’s death.”
    •  •  •
    While Harry volunteered to find Scarlett, I took it upon myself to track down everyone else. Assembling the entire Merrywood clan in one room turned out to require nearly twenty minutes, since the members of the family were scattered all over the house.
    I found Charlotte in the bedroom she and Linus must have shared. Like mine, it was decorated with old-fashioned, floral-patterned wallpaper, antique furniture, and thick drapes that looked as if they’d been designed to keep out the rest of the world.
    She was sitting on the edge of the queen-sized bed, her expression forlorn as she gazed at an assortment of items strewn across the white bedspread. They looked as if they’d been dumped out of the wooden box pushed off to one side. While I didn’t want to seem nosy, I made a quick survey, spotting a few black-and-white photographs, a stack of yellowing letters tied together with a frayed pink satin ribbon,and a dried rose, its flaking petals breaking up into confetti.
    I hovered in the doorway, reluctant to interrupt. Instead, I watched silently as she picked up one item after another, stroking it lovingly as she examined it.
    “Charlotte?” I finally said, my voice nearly a whisper.
    Her head jerked up, and she blinked a few times as if she was confused.
    “Jessica!” she cried after a second or two. “How nice to see you. I was just looking at some very old things.” Smiling apologetically, she added, “At least that’s how they must seem to you. To me, they’re all wonderful memories.”
    “I’m sorry to bother you,” I said, “but Winston is back from his meeting on Long Island. He asked me to gather everyone into the conservatory so he can talk to the whole family about something he found out.”
    Alarm crossed her face. But sounding as calm as usual, she said, “Of course. I’ll be there in a minute.”
    She’d already turned back to the item in her hand. From where I stood, it appeared to be a wedding photograph.
    Still feeling terrible about having intruded on such a private moment, I turned and headed down the hallway, continuing my search.
    Brock was also alone. He had sequestered himself in