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After Thomas Black discovered the Whitcome grave, the church bell incident loomed large in his mind. He had been ready to dismiss the event entirely, but now he felt as though there was an intruder in the village, a prankster perhaps. Whoever it was, he was not welcome. The uncovering of the grave was deliberate, he was sure, and it had happened just when the village was settling back into its normal routine. When Thomas walked into his workshop that same afternoon, Jeffrey Mullins, his head carpenter and delivery man, greeted him with, "I see the ladies are chasing after you, boss." Thomas just made a quick questioning nod but said nothing. "Oh, she was a beauty," continued Mullins with a stupidly wide grin, his teeth surprisingly white against his rugged, tanned face. "Wasn't she Pat?" he called to a man across the room who didn't look up from his work, but who replied in a monotone voice, "Oh yeh, she was a beauty alright, if you like them old, fat, and ugly." Mullins cackled loudly and slapped his thigh. "Someone came to see me?" asked Thomas impatiently. "Yep, she said she'd be in the cafe," said Mullins, turning over a table. "Why couldn't she place an order with either of you?" continued Thomas. "It's not an order she wants boss," replied Mullins eyes wide theatrically, "she's after you." The cafe was empty when Thomas walked in. He could hear plates being stacked in the kitchen and a radio playing music. The room was warm, and smelled like fresh bread. A lady was sitting at a table in the far corner of the room looking right at him. He walked over, "Ma'm, Thomas Black. You wanted to see me?" She looked at him with beautiful, twinkly light blue eyes that searched his. "I'm sorry to take you away from your work, Mr. Black. But I have something tell you that might interest you. The name is Theo, Theo Whitcome. Please would you join me?" she said, offering him the chair opposite hers. Thomas said nothing but sat down. "I'm surprised we haven't met. I live on the outskirts of town; got a few acres with sheep and crops. It's a small farm, but it does me just fine. It used to be bigger mind you..." she trailed off and looked out of the window. The afternoon sun accentuated the deep lines on her face and made her very grey hair glow. "Yes, I'm a Whitcome. There's no problem with that. But the story about poor Peter is true, you know. He was jilted by the loveliest silly girl in town. Oh, it's no new story, and it happened more than a life time ago. But the heart of that poor young man broke so badly, it destroyed our family. It was the shame of it. It drove most of the Whitcome's away, what with the loss of business and having to sell most of our land. My parents stayed; they were second cousins." Thomas hung on her words. He had completely forgotten about work, and no longer felt any irritation. "So it was you who uncovered the grave?" he asked. "The Whitcome's grave you mean?" asked Theo. Thomas nodded. "Ah! I know the fool who did that," she said banging the table. "There could be more trouble coming to the village, Mr. Black. Do you have an ear that's ready to listen?"