A/N: Everlasting thanks to each of my followers for sticking with this story. There are a lot of good stories on this site that don't get reviews and I am blessed for having such support for a story that was pretty much handed to me on a silver platter from a PC game, The Colonel's Bequest.

To my guests without an account: Welcome back, J. I hope guest has been happy with the Olympic wins so far. Thanks for your commentary, Mak.

Thanks, Guest, for reading closely and looking for a thorough understanding of the characters. Lillian chose Frank's name randomly out of the family, as she was upset and couldn't think clearly, and Frank had randomly shown up in the elevator, thereby calling attention to himself. Frank was giving Fifi the maid a clue that if she wanted to go up the elevator herself, she would have to wait until the Colonel was out of the room.

Frank and Nancy rocked slowly on a porch swing. It was getting late, now past 10:30, and the night was punctuated by the comforting sounds of crickets, a bullfrog, an occasional lap of water against the shoreline. The air was hot but not sticky. A perfectly relaxing evening, contrasting with the content of their conversation.

"Do you love me, Nancy?" Frank asked suddenly.

Nancy's foot ceased its gentle rocking. The swing stood still. "Why ever would you ask me such a ridiculous question, dahling?"

Frank shrugged. "No reason. Well—well, I suppose I might have had a couple of interesting words with our scumbag family lawyer, Clarence, but that's it."

"Clarence! What did he say?" Nancy's eyes widened, and she sat up straight in the swing, turning to look directly at her husband.

Frank's features hardened. "I know everything, wife. Or should I begin calling you by what you truly are—"

"Oh, don't look at me like I'm the only one who's ever had an affair," Nancy snapped, turning from him.

"I have never had an affair," Frank said emphatically.

Nancy rolled her eyes and looked away from him. She had to keep her legs tightly crossed in order to hide a long, thin streak of oil on her dress.

"I enjoy the chase, and that is all," Frank insisted. "Once I know that a woman is in my clutches, the game is over for me. Some sweet talk, a few slaps and pinches, sitting a little too close, but I always come home to you. Turn to me, sweetheart."

Nancy turned to him, but now with a hint of vulnerability. "How can I believe you? I'm the laughingstock wherever we go—"

"I didn't realize it bothered you that much," Frank pressed. "I never expected you to do this, nothing like this. Can't we start over, babe? We can make this work, I swear we can."

Nancy sighed. "We can be married on paper, and now that everything's open between us, we'll just each—"

"No," Frank said firmly. "A real marriage. We can do this, we can get it back. But I'm telling you, babe, Clarence said he was going to fight for you, and he'd better not. Because I will fight back. Will you consider my offer, love?"

Nancy looked at him haughtily, but with an openness that wasn't there before. Frank took her hand and kissed it. They walked off the scene and joined the few characters that had been watching them from the sidelines: the former Gertie, Celie, Clarence, and of course Jeeves.

"Not too many people watching us anymore, huh?" Frank commented to Celie. "Where did everybody go all of a sudden?"

Celie shrugged. "Not sure. Did they go to bed? Or maybe the bar?"

"Even the bartender's not there anymore," Frank mused. "I looked in the window when I passed by. Hey, where's she going?"

All heads turned to see Lillian walking unsteadily, seemingly unaware of their presence. Frank and Nancy hurried to follow her, and a few characters joined them.

They walked past the hedge garden, the carriage house, the church. Nancy and Frank began to breathe easily once Lillian's path turned away from the bell tower.

"Oh, no." Frank grimaced. "Look where she's going."

"Come on, sweetie, it's an important clue," Nancy teased, pulling Frank the rest of the way forward. Lillian had walked into the dollhouse. Crouching down, Nancy opened the door and stayed on her knees, surveying this interesting situation.

"And they all lived happily ever after," Lillian read to the roomful of dolls. "What shall we read next, children? Don't we love storytime?"

There was one other thing that was different about this little house. Nancy's gaze moved across the room to the chalkboard. There were five tick marks in the middle of the chalkboard.

Nancy crouched back out of the dollhouse and took Frank to the side to make room for the others to enter. "You can't go in there," she said, grinning. "You'd have nightmares the rest of your life."

"Then just give me a brief, vague, general update, please. Let's go into our underground passage while we have a brief second." Frank began walking, and Nancy joined him at his side.

"Lillian is reading to her dolls, and there are five tick marks on the wall."

Frank nodded in resignation. "For Gertie, Dr. Feels, Ethel, Fifi, and Jeeves."

"Yeah," Nancy agreed. "I've been suspecting Lillian for an hour or two. Everybody has a financial motive, but she has an added emotional motive. She thinks she's protecting the Colonel—hey!"

Frank looked to where Nancy was pointing, and together they ran to a dark patch of grass in front of the porch where they'd just completed their scene. Celie lay in a heap, her rolling pin a few feet to her left.

Frank and Nancy looked down, then turned to each other in surprise.

"Lillian specifically said that Celie was special to her. She liked her, she confided in her," Nancy reflected.

"Also, Lillian was in her dollhouse when this murder took place," Frank said. "She's either been completely framed because she's nutso or we've got at least two murderers here."

The clock began to chime eleven times.