crackled above the noise of the crowd. There must have been five thousand people there, jostling for space around food stands and entertainers and people selling home-made gifts. Bradley was in his element, bopping around and trying samples of Christmas cake and cranberry cordial, but I only had one focus: solve Gwendolyn’s mystery.
“Any idea where your aunt might be?” I asked Mina.
“Probably by the stage. She’s always loved the singing.”
“Does your family really get involved with this every year?”
Mina nodded. “When my aunt was younger, she didn’t celebrate Christmas. Her father didn’t allow it.”
“Why not?”
“His church shunned pagan holidays. But after he died in an accident, my grandma, aunt, and mom went crazy with it. Mom and Aunt Rhoda help with the Halloween and Easter Extravaganzas too. Halloween’s more my thing.”
“Mine too. Still, I’m sorry to hear about your grandfather.”
“Don’t be. Nobody ever talks about him, but I don’t think he was a very nice man. And my family did just fine without men. When I got engaged, my aunt sighed and told me it was important to learn from my mistakes.”
“You didn’t find that a little…insulting?”
“Well, yes, but she meant well.”
“Your aunt never married?”
“I don’t think she even dated. Grandma and Aunt Rhoda were very self-sufficient when they were younger. Hunting, shooting, fishing. DIY and car repairs. Even though my aunt’s in her seventies, she still chops wood faster than anyone else I know, and she can hit a bullseye with a rifle at five hundred yards. Hey, there’s my mom!”
Meriah Lewis was three inches taller than her daughter but shared the same slight build. And do you know who else she reminded me of? Gwendolyn. They had the same narrow nose, the same wide-set eyes. But Meriah had modelled her hair on Bradley’s—red with white tips. She’d fastened the front back with a holly-shaped clip, and the rest swung around her shoulders as she flung her arms around Mina.
“You got here! When your first flight was cancelled, I thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“So did I,” Mina choked out as her mom squashed the breath from her lungs.
“Which airline did you come with in the end?”
“No airline. A…private…jet.”
Meriah loosened her grip. “A what?”
“Mom, I met these people in the casino last night, and they offered to fly me here.”
“What people? Why would they do that?”
I held out a hand as Meriah looked me up and down. Her wrinkled nose said she didn’t like what she saw.
“I’m Emmy. Sorry about the outfits. We had to cobble something together at the last minute.”
“What do you want from my daughter? Nobody flies someone in a private jet out of the goodness of their heart.” Meriah glanced at my outfit again. “She’s not that sort of girl.”
Mina winced visibly at the comment. “Mom, it’s okay.” Then to me, “I’m so sorry. My family can get a bit overprotective. Mom, Emmy actually wants to speak with you and Aunt Rhoda.”
“What? Why? Who is she, exactly? This is what I was afraid of when you moved to Las Vegas. People taking advantage of your good nature to do…whatever this is. Mina, have any of these people asked you for money?”
“Maybe we could find somewhere quieter to talk?” I suggested.
“I’m about to judge the junior costume contest.”
“Mom, it can wait.”
“No, it can’t. The schedule says two o’clock.”
“Mom, it can wait.”
Finally, Meriah got the message, and her “don’t mess with my family” expression morphed into a mask of worry that mirrored Mina’s from last night.
“Perhaps I could get somebody else to judge the contest. What’s going on?”
“Please, Mom, just find Aunt Rhoda?”
Fifteen minutes later, Dan, Valerie, and I sat in a small meeting room with three of the four members of the Lewis family. And I was certain now that all four women were related. Rhoda and Gwendolyn looked so much alike it was uncanny.
Expectant faces stared at us. Where should we start?
“My name’s Valerie, and I’m a genetic genealogist.” Well, okay then. Valerie had obviously done this a few more times than I had. “And these are my colleagues Dan and Emmy. They’re private investigators from Virginia. We were engaged to research a client’s family history, and an analysis of her DNA suggests you might be related.”
“Like, they think she might be my aunt,” Mina said. “But that’s not possible, right? So I was wondering if maybe we have more relatives on your side that we don’t see?”
Mina had directed her question at Rhoda, but it was Meriah who answered. “This is unexpected. Really.