Free Shadows in Scarlet by Lillian Stewart Carl

supermarket parking lot and stopped. Her budget would stretch as far as a basket of blackberries. Native blackberries, in memory of the long-vanished flesh of James Grant. Rest in peace.
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Chapter Six
    Amanda woke up Tuesday morning with the taste of fermented blackberries on her tongue. She gulped down cereal and coffee, then brushed and rinsed. The sting of mint cleaned not only her mouth but the lingering images of her dreams, of rushing anxiously from room to room trying to save the furnishings from battles which raged through the entrance hall and up the staircase.
    She left Lafayette perched regally on the windowsill and strolled through the house, opening the drapes and relishing the last few moments of peace before the invasion began. The cleaning crew had left wooden surfaces gleaming and fabrics crisp and fresh. The odor of potpourri almost masked that of mothballs. From Page's window Amanda surveyed the manicured green lawns with their golden filigree of marigolds. The shadow of the house stretched away from Sally's window, reaching nearly to the site of the summerhouse. The archaeological team trooped across the garden carrying the tools of their trade, shovels, trowels, and ice chests. Wayne and Roy advanced from the gate. A distant cloud bank hinted that the clear morning sunshine might be only the calm before a storm.
    Turning, Amanda brushed against the table. The miniature portrait plopped onto its face. She picked it up. No, she couldn't glue it to the tabletop.
    She'd never again be able to think of James's handsome face without also thinking of the empty eye sockets of his skull.... Now that was getting way too sentimental.
    Downstairs, Carrie handed out new fact sheets. Taking up his position on the steps, Wayne informed Amanda he was a Page right out of history, get it, get it? The stays protected her ribs from his nudging elbow. She bared her teeth in a laugh and threw herself gratefully on the first school group to appear around the corner.
    Just after noon Cynthia Chancellor and her perfectly coordinated apparel arrived in the front hall. She set a Bloomingdale's shopping bag next to the sideboard and announced, “Well, Amanda, I hear you've been a very clever girl. Imagine guessing the identity of the bones before Bill Hewitt, even!"
    "That isn't exactly what...” Amanda began.
    Carrie peered through the parlor door. “Oh, good afternoon, Madame. May I be of assistance to you?"
    "Oh no, no, I beat the others out here is all. I get so eager about these things. Melrose is becoming one of the premier historical attractions of the area, no doubt about it."
    "What others?” Amanda asked.
    "Bill and.... Why, here's Lucy and Vernon now. Come in, come in."
    The Benedettos stepped into the house looking like serfs entering the castle, not sure whether they're going to be pelted with coins or with dung. “Hello, Mrs. Chancellor,” Vernon said, adjusting his tie. “You wanted to see us?"
    "I wanted you to be here as part of the little ceremony I've arranged,” Cynthia said, “since you do so much for us here at Melrose Hall."
    What ceremony? Amanda asked herself. Oh shit, she'd missed something on the schedule.
    A group of tourists surged from the parlor into the entrance hall, Carrie at point. “It has been our pleasure to welcome you to Melrose Hall. Please do us the very great honor of stopping by the gift shop as you return to your carriages."
    "Where's the dead body?” a teenager asked.
    "Deceased persons remain in their homes for only a day or so, until the funeral rites can be performed,” Carrie answered. “The bones of the poor wretch consigned to a most unsuitable grave in the garden are now in Williamsburg Town. I could tell you somewhat of..."
    The boy interrupted, “You mean there's nothing to see?"
    "I very much regret,” Carrie began, to be interrupted again, this time by Cynthia.
    "We'll be setting up a small display here in the entrance hall in just a