6~

In her home of Blake Mansion, Daisy reclined on her plush bed and gave a lazy look around her bedroom, calming her mind of today's events by meditating on the familiar, comforting picker's collection of vintage oil cans, various knick-knacks, and petroliana that hung stylishly upon her walls and furnished her decor.

'Hmm,' she gave a thought, as she settled more in her bed. 'Walls are looking a bit bare. Flea market time!'

She gave a stretch and sighed. Of all the traps from all of the weird mysteries she found herself in with Marcie, this one cut so close, she feared that the venerable Blake bloodline would have been shortened by one daughter.

Maybe...she shouldn't hang out with her younger friend anymore...

Daisy shook her head, in shame, physically shaking the thought from her wandering mind. Marcie might not have the looks of a Blake, but she was

cool. She had the brains of a local genius, and the heart of a lioness when it came to the people she cared about.

'Maybe that's why she would go on and on about that Dinkley girl, sometimes,' she thought. 'They must have been really close friends.' She tickled herself with a thought about what their relationship might have been like in another life.

However, in the here and now, Marcie saved her and her other sisters from a life of mental bondage when they first met. Indeed, she saved her life from physical harm more than once, although critics would probably say that due to Marcie's unusual 'hobby,' she was the one who endangered it in the first place.

Daisy dispelled that thought, as well. It was always her decision to be with Marcie, either for a milkshake or a mystery. It was always a good way to chase away the blahs and frustrations of home and college life.

Plus, she wouldn't have met Red Herring without her, and with a smile, she considered that a definite plus in her book.

Daisy then wondered what to name this new deathtrap. As long as she had been with Marcie on her adventures, she had been naming them, both the ones they shared and those Marcie lived through solo. It was a cocky way to deal with the jitters of surviving afterwards and as a way to commemorate them.

This one, she would christen, "The Cyanide Sayonara." She smile wearily, proud of her accomplishment.

A light knock, and her mother walked in and sat beside Daisy on the bed.

"How are you feeling dear?" she asked, looking at the exhausted state of her daughter. "You look so tired and beat up. Have you been taking your vitamins? They can't work if you don't take them."

"Oh, it's nothing, Mom," Daisy told her, thankful that she never told her parents about the mysteries. If they ever knew she was in mortal danger ever time she got involved, then, college student or no, she would have been home schooled for her overprotective safety.

"Well, if you say so, dear," Nan conceded. "By the way, that dear Miss Lander called here earlier."

Daisy sat up. "What did she want?"

"She said that she left the hospital. The doctors said that she was fine as long as she doesn't excite herself. Something to do with nerves, I think. Anyway, she said that was going home to her nephew's. I swear that woman just dotes on him. He must be her favorite in the family."

"Well, he is letting her stay at his house until we take care of this Extinguisher business." Daisy said, already regretting her slip of the tongue.

"We?" Nan asked.

"I mean 'we' as 'we, the citizens of Crystal Cove.' It's all about community, after all." Daisy lied.

"Of course, dear," Nan said, her spark of concern put out. "Anyway, she really should let her nephew be, sometimes. I know she loves him, but I hope she's not molly-coddling him with her wealth."

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"What I mean, dear, is that she should love her family, but she shouldn't pamper them, too much. Look at us. As your parents, we made sure that even though you and your other sisters are unrepentant slackers, and will probably never make anything of yourselves, as Daphne have-"

"Thanks, Mom," Daisy said, uncomfortably, sinking a little bit into her bed.

"We made sure that you still worked to get a good education."

"Weren't we tutored before we went to college?" Daisy recollected.

"That's besides the point, dear," Nan said, chuckling the truth away. "The fact is that you all graduated high school! That's why we put all of you in our wills!"

"Wait,' Daisy said, her head wrapping around this revelation. "You would only put us in your wills…if we graduated? I thought you loved us. Slacker and all."

"Of course we do, dear," her mother said, unperturbed. "But we had to give you something to strive for, and no Blake should ever be without money, even the ones who'll never do anything with their lives. That's how much we love you."

Daisy laid back down and ruminated on the sheer Machiavellian guile of her two parents, as Nan got up and began to walk out.

"Oh, I gotta run. Jenkins just took a roast out of our new oven, and I just have to see how it came out. Bye."

"Bye, Mom," Daisy said, giving her a lazy wave as Nan left.

"Put us in the will, but only if we graduate. Geez, that's was harsh. They made me…work hard! No wonder they never said anything about it, until now. The damage is done. I'll bet whatever we get'll be based on our scores, too. Dorothy will probably get more than me. Even for a slacker, she was smart," Daisy groused to herself.

The more she thought about the unfairness of it, the more she kept thinking about it, kicking herself that she didn't ask Nan, right then, how much she was going to get.

'Knowing Mom,' Daisy thought. 'She'd keep that a secret.'

Daisy decided to take a nap and put everything aside. Marcie would figure out who did what to whom, pretty soon, and all would be right with the world. All Daisy wanted to focus, before sleep took her again, was the will...

the will...

the will...

Daisy bolted out of bed, electrified by the flash of inspiration she felt from probably the biggest clue of the case. She ran out of her room, eager to find a phone with a landline in this big house.