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Won’t you come inside for a cup of coffee, or tea? I have a nice fig cake, warm from the oven.”
    â€œOh, I don’t think—”
    â€œNonsense! Everybody needs a little pick-me-up this time of morning.” The older woman reached for the door handle and pulled it open, rattling on in the easy manner of someone who loved to talk. “I understand you’re interested in his grandmother’s old jewelry. I can tell you about a great many of the pieces, where they came from, whom they belonged to—more so than Mr. Lewis can, I daresay. His wife, Miss Mary Sue, was a good friend of my mother’s, and Kane’s mother, Donna, and I played together as girls long before we became sisters-in-law. We were sometimes allowed to dress up in Miss Mary Sue’s jewels, under strict supervision, of course. Come now, I simply won’t take no for an answer.”
    It was impossible to resist that gently persistent urging. In any case, Regina wasn’t sure she wanted to try. The house intrigued her with its aged grandeur. Kane’s aunt was as charming as she was talkative. And it hardly seemed Kane would be likely to throw her down in the living room or anywhere else with the older woman on the premises.
    She really had misjudged him. She hoped he didn’t realize how much, but suspected he had sent his aunt because he understood her feelings only too well.
    Why was he being so nice to her? she wondered. Was this the famous Southern hospitality everybody talked about, or something extra? What was he after with his kindness and questioning? What did he hope to gain when he had no idea who she was or why she was in Turn-Coupe?
    At least, she hoped he had none.
    She shouldn’t be here, she thought as she climbed the steps to the front door and stepped into the long central hall that stretched through the house to French doors at the far end. She should be in town making as nice as possible to Lewis Crompton instead of riding around the countryside with his grandson. It had been ridiculous to let herself be distracted and more stupid still to think she was going to get anything from a lawyer.
    For all she knew, the elaborate schedule Kane had given for his grandfather might have been a fabrication, and the old gentleman was wondering where she was and why she hadn’t contacted him this morning. She should insist that Kane take her straight back to the motel, then call Crompton at the funeral home.Yes, that was exactly what she should do at the first opportunity.
    With that plan in mind, Regina felt better. She was even able to relax a little as she was led into the back wing of the house and seated in a bright breakfast room done in shades of fresh green and located just off an expansive country kitchen. The spicy aroma of the fig cake filled the air. The piece put on her plate was thick, moist, studded with pieces of dark and sweet preserved fruit, and glazed with a warm caramel sauce rich with pecans. The china it was served on was eggshell-thin Old Paris, the napkin beside it starched damask, and the fork she was handed ornate and heavy sterling. Against her will, Regina was impressed.
    She was out of her depth.
    â€œThis is very nice,” she said, “but I thought Kane was only going to be a minute.”
    â€œYou like the cake? It’s a recipe I’m developing for Southern Living Magazine. ”
    â€œThey pay you?”
    â€œNo, no, it’s just something to keep my mind occupied, though my waistline would be in better shape if I’d pick another hobby. As for Kane, you’ll have to forgive him, my dear. He had a couple of calls to return—he’s so busy these days.” The older woman brought her own cake and coffee and seated herself opposite Regina.
    Regina watched Kane’s aunt a moment. She was a little plump maybe, but had fine eyes and gracefully molded facial features. Though she joked about her appearance, it was obvious it didn’t