The Hidden Corpse

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Normally I’m not, but I worried I’d be too distracted by recent events to focus on the class like I should.”

  Hope nodded. “I only met Lily a few times in town since I’ve moved back.” Working from home, Hope was holed up inside most of the day, either writing or developing recipes. The past couple of months she’d been training Bigelow and tackling one DIY project after another. She wouldn’t be surprised if people thought she was a hermit.

  Cal lowered his gaze and turned his face away from Hope for a moment, as if he were hiding. Her heart squeezed; he was sad, and he didn’t want her to see that.

  “Too bad you don’t know her better.” He turned back to Hope, his emotions in check. “She’s a wonderful woman.”

  Hope nodded in agreement. “I’m sure she is.” She wasn’t sure what to say next. She knew what to say if Cal’s wife had died or had filed for divorce. Actually, she had a lot to say on the latter.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Would you like a cup of coffee so we can catch up?” Cal asked.

  Coffee, her weakness, and catching up on their careers would be nice. “I’d like that.” She followed Cal along the sleek honed bluestone paver path embedded in crushed stone. The austere walkway led to the glass front door of the modern house. They entered and Hope’s breath caught when she entered the living room.

  The floor-to-ceiling windows offered spectacular views of the gentle rolling hills of northwestern Connecticut, which were coming into their summer lushness. The furnishing style was minimal. The living area had two gray tufted sofas with stainless steel feet and an eye-catching dual layer coffee table that was two-toned, high gloss white lacquer and walnut wood. Definitely a work of art but void of any personal touches, not even a remote control. How did they use the massive television that hung on the stark white wall?

  “Good, Brenda made a fresh cup of coffee.” Cal showed her into the galley kitchen.

  Obsessed with kitchens, Hope didn’t pass up the opportunity for a closer look at where the Barnharts cooked their meals.

  There were no upper cabinets due to the expansive window that ran the length of the countertop. The appliances were integrated into the kitchen design so all you saw were sleek white lacquered cabinets. The term for the Barnharts’ kitchen was “a showcase kitchen.” Decked out in the best cabinetry and appliances money could buy but there was no cooking going on. What a shame. The place that was supposed to be the center of the home was simply a showpiece.

  “Let’s sit.” Cal handed Hope a full cup of coffee and led her to the dining table.

  Hope eyed the interesting piece of furniture. The glass top was set on two stainless steel stacked V-shaped bases. Where did they shop? Cal had pulled out one of the buttoned tufted high-back chairs for her and she sat. Thank goodness, the chair was comfortable.

  After pouring a drop of cream into her coffee, she took a sip. “You have a beautiful home.” While the modern clean and crisp lines weren’t her thing, she did appreciate the beauty of the minimalist design.

  “Lily did all this.” He took in a sweeping glance of the space. “I just wanted someplace peaceful to come home to.”

  “I’m very sorry about what has happened.”

  Cal nodded. “You read about this type of thing, but you never think one day it will be your wife. Then you have to deal with all of the questions from the police and those vultures from the newspapers.” His voice was laced with contempt.

  “I’m sure the police are doing the best they can and their questions are for the purpose of finding Lily.” Hope suspected Detective Reid was the lead from the Jefferson Police Department on the case. She’d encountered him two months earlier when a local real estate agent was murdered and Claire was the person of interest in the investigation. Luckily, Hope did a little snooping on her own and eventually discovered the true identity of the killer.

  “Forgive me if I don’t share your opinion of the police here. This isn’t exactly New York City, and my wife’s life is in the hands of a small-town police department.”

  “I know Chief Cahill personally, and I can assure you he and his officers are highly trained and qualified.” She’d known Ethan Cahill since they were teenagers and, since moving back to Jefferson, he’d been her rock to lean on. Over the past few months she’d noticed a change in her feelings toward him, and she wondered if he felt it too. She wanted to ask, to find out either way, but the fear of messing up a good friendship held back the question. So, she’d decided to take the wait-and-see approach.

  Cal took a drink of his coffee and sat quietly for a few moments. The worry about his wife was etched into his face and when Hope looked close enough, she saw the fatigue in his dark eyes.

  “You know, why don’t we start catching up?” Hope prompted Cal out of his deep thoughts.

  “Yes, let’s. You can begin by telling me all about your blog.” Cal smiled a little and he looked genuinely interested in Hope.

  She wasted no time in telling him how she first began the blog and the time flew by so fast she didn’t realize they’d been chatting for over an hour.

  “I can’t believe it’s so late.” Hope stood. She picked up her coffee cup and took it to the kitchen sink. “I lost track of time.”

  “So did I. I guess it’s the company.” Cal joined Hope at the sink. “Are you sure you have to go?”

  Hope nodded. She had Bigelow to feed and she had work to do. “Sorry, I do. How about we do this again?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll walk you out.”

  As they approached the front door, Brenda appeared from the long hallway, startling Hope. She held a leather agenda close to her chest and glared at Hope for a long moment.

  “There you are.” Cal opened the front door. “I’m going to walk Hope out. I’ll be right back.”

  “Bye,” Hope said in a light voice, and stepped outside.

  The sun was still bright and the late afternoon temperature still hovered around eighty degrees. Perfect gardening weather. Too bad she’d spent the whole day indoors.

  “I enjoyed our talk. Thank you for distracting me for a little bit,” Cal said in a serious tone. When they arrived at her vehicle, he stepped closer to Hope and wrapped his arms around her in a friendly embrace. His hug was gentle and surprising.

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself too.” Hope returned the hug and, over Cal’s shoulder, she caught Brenda staring out the window. When Brenda realized Hope saw her, she quickly stepped back. “I better get going. See you tomorrow.”

  Hope slipped into the driver’s seat and Cal shut the door. She turned on the ignition and waved as she pulled out of the driveway. As she navigated the gravel driveway that led to the road, she couldn’t help thinking about how frightened he must be with not knowing what happened to Lily. While she defended him to Drew the day before, she had no knowledge of the relationship between Cal and Lily but, after talking with him for over an hour, she couldn’t believe he would have hurt his wife. Then again, she had been mistaken about her ex-husband. Maybe she wasn’t the best judge of character.

  * * *

  “In my research I found that Cal Barnhart is an avid hiker.” Drew scooped a heaping spoonful of meatball hero casserole onto his plate.

  Before Hope left for the workshop that morning, she’d collected eggs while she did her barn chores. Helga, the alpha hen, had been more disagreeable than normal, and Hope had the peck marks on her hand to prove it. She usually admired the hen’s spunk, but the chick really needed to tone it down.

  After the assault, she’d cracked a couple of the eggs for the meatball mixture and added in fresh herbs from her garden. After the meatballs were formed, she’d tossed them into a slow cooker and covered them with her homemade sauce and let them simmer all day. The meatballs and sauce were ready when she got home and into a deep casserole dish they went over a layer of garlic bread and then smothered with cheese.

  “A lot of people are avid hikers, especially up here.” Hop
e joined Drew at the table with a bowl of salad. She set the dish down and took a seat.

  “But it’s his wife who’s missing.” Drew served himself some salad. “He could have dumped her body in the woods.”

  “Drew! That’s a terrible thing to suggest.” Hope scooped out a portion of the casserole and set the dish in front of the third place setting.

  “What’s a terrible thing to say?” Ethan entered the kitchen. The sleeves of his faded denim shirt were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms. Even though his job as police chief was mainly administrative, he didn’t let his job go to his gut. He worked out every day, in the gym, on trails with his bike, or in his pool in the warmer weather. So, assembling the shelving unit in Hope’s garage was a piece of cake for him. He barely broke a sweat. While she wanted to do all the work, realistically she’d had to delegate some jobs like assembling large shelving units or painting the exterior of her farmhouse. Ethan had been helping out as much as he could since she bought the house. She wasn’t sure he’d make it over tonight because of Lily’s case. His department had been chasing leads to find her and nothing panned out, leaving him little free time.

  “My theory is Barnhart killed his wife and dumped her in the woods.” Drew dug into his dinner. As he chewed, he made yummy noises. “This is delish, Hope. Seriously. Oh, my, goodness. Is that garlic bread?”

  Hope smiled. She loved feeding her friends and family. There was nothing more satisfying to her than to tie on an apron, cook, and then share her food with those she loved. That was partly why she started her blog. She’d been living in the city where life moved at warp speed and dinners were either served out of a container or on fancy plates in crowded restaurants. Where she came from, dinner was served at a big table by her mother and eaten with the whole family. The conversations were about life, sometimes silly, sometimes serious, not about deals or about weekend plans in the Hamptons.

  She wasn’t so naïve to think her blog would make everybody change their lifestyle, but if it gave someone pause to think about other options for meals with other people then she achieved her goal. And while she couldn’t force people to make time for a sit-down dinner, she could do it herself.

  “We’ve been searching the woods for Lily.” Ethan smiled at his plate covered with thick slices of bread, fat meatballs, and gooey cheese. He looked like a satisfied man as he took a forkful and chewed.

  “I’m sure your department is doing everything possible to find Lily.” Hope wanted to steer the conversation away from Lily for two reasons. The first was because she wanted to avoid telling Drew she failed at her attempt to convince Cal to agree to an interview. Second, after her first foray into amateur sleuthing two months earlier, she wasn’t eager to discuss another possible murder.

  “Thanks.” Ethan smiled.

  His smile sent a zing of warmth through her, right down to her toes.

  Oh, boy.

  Ethan had gone from the rock in her life she leaned on to a guy who sent zings of heat through her. At first she tried to ignore the subtle signs of their relationship shifting into unmarked territory. They’d been friends since high school and not once, in all those years, did she ever consider him anything more than that. Definitely not as a boyfriend. She had to chalk her rogue romantic feelings up to still being unsettled about her life shakeup. Before she entertained thoughts of being involved with another man, she needed to put her divorce behind her and find the financial stability she lost when she walked away from her career to appear on the reality show.

  So, zings of any sort needed to stop.

  “Your department’s stonewalling isn’t helping me.” Drew served himself another portion of meatball casserole. “But I won’t be deterred. I have a job to do.”

  Hope glanced at Ethan, who was scraping up the last bits of sauce from his plate. He let Drew get the last word on the topic of Lily Barnhart’s disappearance. She was grateful because Drew could argue for hours about the freedom of the press and the public’s right to know.

  “However, Drew does have a point.” Defending her friend prompted a frown from Ethan. She should’ve said something about the weather instead. She dipped her head and scooped up a forkful of meatballs and cheese.

  Drew grinned. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you, Hope.” Ethan looked back to his plate and continued eating his dinner.

  Now was a good time to change the subject. “Peggy Olson is back home from rehab. She’s doing remarkably well in getting around.” Hope refilled her wineglass. After the day she’d had, she’d earned a fair amount of alcohol consumption. The dinner conversation shifted to subjects that didn’t include active police investigations but rather Hope’s plan to hire a trainer for Bigelow. She wasn’t having any success with the stack of training books she’d purchased. She’d be donating them to the library’s annual book sale.

  “Dinner was delicious.” Ethan pushed his cleaned plate away and then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m sorry, I have to get back to work.”

  Hope cleared his plate from the table and excused herself before she followed Ethan outside. She closed the mudroom door behind her and followed Ethan’s path to his truck. The daylight was slowly fading and the air was cool. She treasured those nights because, within a few weeks, the humidity would take hold and linger well into early fall.

  Ethan reached his truck and was heading around to the driver’s side. He was almost six feet, and his stride was long and purposeful. He’d be climbing up into his truck in no time.

  “Ethan! Wait up!” Hope dashed to the fully loaded pickup truck. Dark green, chrome grille, and a roof rack, the truck was all man. He drove it to the woods for camping, to the lumberyard for wood, and to the range for target practice. Though, the truck wasn’t all testosterone and manly. It often chauffeured Ethan’s two little girls. On any given day, a stuffed bunny or doll could be found in the cab of the truck. And Ethan was secure enough in his manhood that he didn’t mind one bit.

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan pulled open his truck door.

  “Something happened at Peggy’s house. I’m worried about her.”

  Ethan’s brows furrowed. “Is she okay?”

  Hope shrugged. “I’m not sure.” She filled him in on what happened the day before and the promise she’d made to Peggy. After coming home with the burnt pot, she kept replaying the events over in her mind. By the time she went to bed last night, she was certain she’d made a mistake.

  “You have to tell Meg. There’s a lot of other options available to Peggy than just going to a nursing home.” Ethan reached out and set his hand on Hope’s shoulder. “I know you don’t want to break your promise, but I don’t see you have a choice.”

  “You’re right. I have to tell Meg.” Easier said than done. She and Meg Griffin had history and it wasn’t pretty.

  In first grade they were the best of friends, having lunch together every day in the cafeteria and sitting together on the school bus. By third grade their friendship was tested by a spelling bee and Hope first saw Meg’s competitive side. After Meg lost to Hope for misspelling the word bare, she spelled bear instead, Meg took her Barbie lunchbox to another table in the cafeteria and sat with another girl on the bus. From then on their relationship was a confusing mess of emotions. They’d make up and then Hope would get something Meg wanted and the cycle of the aftermath of the spelling bee would replay. Looking back, they were what was now called frenemies. While they couldn’t seem to outgrow their silly childhood rivalry, they did manage to be cordial to each other. “I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

  “I hope Peggy’s okay. She’s a sweet lady.” Ethan climbed up into the driver’s seat and, within a few minutes, he was pulling out of her driveway and his taillights faded away.

  Not too long after Ethan left, Drew left to go back to his office. Since the Gazette hired Norrie Jennings, he’d been burning the midnight oil trying to keep up with the newspaper’s rising star. Because she had just landed an interview with Lil
y Barnhart’s secretary, Drew was desperate to get his own scoop.

  With the dinner dishes cleared and a final check on her Facebook page and blog, Hope tied her laces and went out for a night run. The sun was almost set and the clear, dark sky seemed to wrap around Jefferson in a gentle, secure hug.

  There were so many reasons why she disliked running at night, but her day was hectic and she couldn’t squeeze in a workout. She’d already gained the new homeowner/ business owner/divorcee ten-plus pounds. So, if her workout needed to be at night, so be it.

  When she reached the top of her road, she turned left and ran along Carriage Lane. She fell into her zone, her pace steady and her mind clearing. At the half-mile mark her worries about her inadequate photography skills fell away.

  At one mile, the knot in her stomach about Tim’s new romance untangled. He’d managed to move on after their divorce, so maybe it was time for her to also.

  Well into her second mile, her heartbeat peaking and sweat beads forming along her brow, she was at peace with her decision to contact Meg. It wasn’t as if she and Peggy pinkie swore. Those were sacred. Peggy’s safety was far more important than keeping a promise and if the old woman became angry with her, she’d have to deal with it. The rest of her run was energizing and cleansing to her mind.

  Looping back to her road, she slowed her pace to lower her heart rate. Her arms pumped slower at her side and her stride was relaxed. She loved the cool-down phase of her workouts.

  She passed Gilbert’s gray Colonial house. Lights on in the living room. No doubt, he was watching some barn picking show. She guessed he lived vicariously through those shows because Mitzi wouldn’t let a piece of junk into her immaculate home.

  Hope turned her focus back to the road. Her house would be coming into sight any minute. But before she could see her home, her eyes widened in horror. She came to a dead stop.