The wallet was evidence that Lucy’s call wasn’t a false alarm. I felt a chill running through me, and my mother was already looking in her purse for her phone to call 911. Aunt Linda, however, was fully in control. “Now let’s not jump to conclusions,” she said. “There’s no evidence of a crime here. The wallet may have fallen out of Lucy’s purse or duffel bag. When she discovers that she left it behind, she’ll come back to get it.”

My mother sighed, and it was one of those sisterly sighs I’d witnessed her make many times around Aunt Linda. “That’s not the point, Lynn. How can Lucy get anywhere without money and her I.D.?”

“You don’t give my daughter credit for her resourcefulness. She’s travelled halfway around the world, for gosh sakes.”

Walter observed the sisters’ exchange with curiosity. I had no desire to take either side. I was just concerned that Lucy, as resourceful as she was, could be in danger.

“Well, you’re her mother,” my mother added. “If you’re not worried, then I guess her aunt shouldn’t be either.”

I had to add my two cents. “What about her cousin? I was the one who received her call for help.”

Both women seemed to run out of ammunition at that point, so Walter interjected. “I think the best thing to do is to tell Mrs. G.” He glanced at his watch. “The tour should be over soon. I can take you back to the house to wait for her.”

Mom was mollified by that suggestion because, at least, it was doing something. Aunt Linda shrugged. She and my mom followed Walter out of the carriage house. He waited for me and then locked the door. Aunt Linda had put Lucy’s wallet in her purse.

“Instead of going back the way we came, I’d like to take you another way,” Walter said, turning right from the carriage house. “We’ll pass my cottage. It’s a circle.”

It was a short walk to Walter’s cottage. Like the Carriage House, only slightly smaller, it was bordered by flowers. A black and brown striped cat was munching on some green leafy plants growing under the front window. Walter smiled. “That’s my cat, Toppy. I grow catnip for him.”

“Toppy, what an interesting name,” I said.

“It’s short for Topiary,” Walter explained. “I found him near one of the Topiaries about a year ago and adopted him. I think he wandered into the estate, but he was only a kitten and no one in the area claimed him when I put up notices.”

“You have a topiary garden?” Aunt Linda asked. “I adore topiaries. You have to show me.”

Walter’s face brightened. “You’ll probably also enjoy the maze.”

“A garden maze, oh how delightful!”

I couldn’t believe that she was more interested in the estate’s botany than in finding her daughter.