“Meg and I have known each other since we were children. I came here today to pay her a condolence call.” Hope figured that much Norrie would be able to figure out on her own, so there was no harm in sharing the information.
Norrie’s glance darted to the door and then back to Hope. “She slammed the door pretty hard.”
Hope had to give Norrie credit. She was observant. “She’s obviously upset.” Once Meg calmed down and the police confirmed the cause of the fire was arson, she’d probably forgive Hope. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Right. So, it has nothing to do with what happened in the spring and the murder investigation you became involved with?”
Hope squared her shoulders. She wished she had a door to slam in Norrie’s face. During the murder investigation, Hope did ask a lot of questions and present her theories to the police. Like the old saying goes, you have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet. Not everyone was happy with Hope’s sleuthing, including Meg.
“Good-bye, Miss Jennings.” She continued past Norrie to her vehicle and pulled open the driver’s-side door. She slid in behind the steering wheel and started the engine.
Drew definitely had his hands full with that one.
On Hope’s drive home, she received a group text message from Brenda that the workshop had been cancelled for the day and she would be in touch regarding the remainder of the class. Disappointed, yes, but Hope understood. Cal had just learned his wife was dead. She hadn’t even thought about the workshop after Drew’s call. Her mind was churning about how Lily ended up in Peggy’s house. What was their connection? How did they know each other? Why was Lily there?
Hope reached a stop sign and waited for two other cars to decide who went first. While she waited, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. It could be a while.
Finally, the car to Hope’s right drove through the intersection, followed by the other car. It was her turn next. As she proceeded through the intersection, she realized somebody had to know if and how Peggy knew Lily.
Hope drove along a stretch of narrow road butted up against a thick wall of rock on one side and a questionable safety rail on the other. The winding road challenged even the most experienced driver in bad weather and, on beautiful days, it was easy to become distracted because of the burst of colorful wildflowers provided along the railing. Falling into a lull as her car glided along the sloping road, she caught herself just before she came to a sharp curve. She should have known better. She shifted in her seat, eased off the accelerator, and turned her thoughts back to Peggy and Lily.
How could she find out if the two women knew each other? The first place to look for friendships would be on social media, but Hope doubted Peggy was on the Internet in any capacity. A quick look at Lily’s social media might reveal any common interests the two women shared, like community volunteering or church. She’d have Drew look into the applications before the Planning and Zoning Commission on the off chance Peggy had filed for some type of permit beyond the scope of the Building Department. She’d like to talk to Peggy’s friends but, besides the residents on her street, she didn’t know Peggy’s friends. There was a place where Hope could start and she was halfway there. Peggy had spent several weeks in the rehab center and surely she’d made a friend or two there.
She glanced over to the passenger seat. The container of oatmeal raisin cookies she was going to photograph in class would now be put to another use. Who didn’t love cookies?
Chapter Eight
Hope reached over the center console and grabbed the container of cookies. After stepping out of her vehicle, she had a brief moment of doubt about visiting the Nutmeg Rehabilitation and Physical Therapy Center. Would she be allowed in? If so, would she be able to speak with Peggy’s former roommate, assuming she had a roommate during her stay there? If she did share her room, the roommate could have been released.
Maybe she should have thought the plan through a little more. But since she was there, she might as well continue on.
A deep inhale of resolve propelled Hope forward, and she crossed the visitor section of the parking lot and reached the sidewalk that wrapped around the two-story building. She smiled as she passed residents out enjoying the warm day. Just as she reached the main entrance, the glass door slid open and Jane emerged from the lobby.
“What are you doing here?” Hope asked.
“I suspect I’m here for the same reason you are.” Jane clasped her hands together. She wore a green floral dress and her structured beige purse dangled from her arm. Her white hair was styled in a layered bob with wispy bangs that brushed over her bright blue eyes, and she’d applied a touch of her signature pink lipstick. She must have had all the old men’s eyeballs popping out of their sockets.
“To speak with Peggy’s former roommate?”
“She’s a lovely lady, though her memory isn’t very good. I suppose being in a place like this can drain a person mentally and emotionally. Trust me, it’s much nicer out here than it is inside.”
“You heard about Lily Barnhart?”
“Dear, by now everyone has. As soon as I heard, I asked Sally to give me a ride over here. You know, one of my closest friends is here. She had a terrible bout with pneumonia and ended up falling.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jane patted Hope’s arm and smiled. “Now, why don’t I tell you what Lorraine told me? She’s taking a nap now.” She leaned forward as she noticed the container in Hope’s hands. “Are those cookies?”
Hope nodded. “Oatmeal raisin. One of your favorites.”
The truth was Jane had many favorites when it came to baked goods. She handed the container to Jane and they walked along the sidewalk to the pond area. People weren’t the only ones out enjoying the weather. Hope caught glimpses of ducks diving into the water, their feathery bottoms popping up. At the far end of the pond there was a mama duck leading her ducklings on a swim. From the thick forest of trees that surrounded the grounds, bird songs filled the air. The tranquility was intoxicating. Hope could stay there for hours.
They reached a table and sat. Wasting no time, Jane opened the container and took out a cookie. She took a bite and savored the cookie. “Delicious as always.”
“Thank you. Now tell me, what made you come here?” Hope reclined back and lifted her sunglasses up, pushing back her hair from her forehead.
“When I heard the unidentified woman was Lily, I was puzzled because, to my knowledge, she and Peggy weren’t friends. I saw Peggy often because she visited the inn when she went to the library. That was the only time she really got out on her own. She needed to rest up before walking back home, so she came into the inn. We had tea and chatted. There was one afternoon when Lily came into the inn. Let me think.”
While Jane searched her memory, Hope looked around and saw many elderly people, most in wheelchairs, staring off to the distance. She had a hard time imagining Peggy there. She’d been so full of life before her illness. Living at the rehab center, even for a short period of time, must have been difficult for her. Now Hope understood why Peggy was so worried about being put into a nursing home permanently.
“I remember. It was a luncheon for the July Fourth parade organizers. I was in the living room with Peggy when Lily came in and asked me something. Oh, darn, I can’t recall.”
Hope helped herself to a cookie. “I don’t think the question is important.”
“You’re right, dear. Anyway, it didn’t appear that Peggy and Lily were acquainted. In fact, I introduced them.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Months ago. Before Peggy was taken to the hospital.”
“What did Peggy’s roommate tell you?”
“The only people that visited were Meg, Jerry, and their kids. Mitzi and Gilbert stopped by a couple of times.”
Hope swallowed a bite of cookie. “So, we’ve hit a dead end.”
“Looks like it,” Jane said glumly.
Hope stared off toward the pond. “It’s possible Peggy
had a connection to the P&Z Commission. I’m going to ask Drew to check the recent applications.”
“Good thinking. I hadn’t thought about that. We need to find out exactly what the commission was voting on and maybe that will lead us to the killer.”
“Jane, I’m not looking to confront a killer ever again. Done that and got the T-shirt.” Coming face-to-face with a murderer was nothing like what Hope had read in the mystery novels she loved, and she doubted they were anything like Jane imagined when she wrote her books.
“T-shirt?” Jane asked.
“Never mind. I should talk to Ethan about this so he and his officers can investigate.”
“How is Detective Reid doing?”
“Busy.” He was busy being everywhere Hope was, so she was a little surprised not to find him at the rehab center. Not wanting to push her luck, she decided it was time to go. The last thing she wanted was another run-in with the detective and having to explain why she was there.
Jane returned the lid to the cookie container. “Be a dear and drive me back to the inn. Sally is running errands, and I don’t want to wait around here. It’s a little depressing.”
“Of course.” Hope stood and waited for Jane to gather her purse and the container. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw trouble approaching. She was so close to making a clean getaway. So close.
“Miss Early, what a surprise.” The sarcasm in Detective Reid’s voice wasn’t missed by Hope. “What are you doing here?” His gaze was trained on her while he waited for an answer.
“Ummm . . .” Hope began to answer, but fumbled. How was she going to explain being at the rehab center where Peggy had been a patient and not have him think she was investigating his murder case . . . again?
Jane stepped closer to Hope. “I have a friend who’s staying here. She had a terrible fall a couple of weeks ago. You may not know this, Detective, but I don’t drive. Luckily, Hope does.”
Hope slid a glance to Jane. She was impressed. The older woman provided a very truthful answer to Reid’s question. Technically, though, it was misleading. But she wasn’t going to fret over semantics.
“What are you doing here, Detective?” Hope tried to read his expression, but he had his cop face on and that meant no information about the case would be forthcoming. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re following me.”
Jane patted Hope’s arm. “Dear, I’m sure this is just a coincidence. The detective has his hands full with his case, which you’re not a part of.”
“Coincidence?” Reid sounded doubtful. “Is that what this is, Miss Early?”
“It appears so. Well, we won’t keep you from your official business. Come on, Jane.” Hope guided Jane around Reid and together they skedaddled to the parking lot. Making herself scarce around Reid would need to be a top priority. He’d threatened to arrest her for interfering in a police investigation last time there was a murder, and she didn’t doubt he’d make good on his threat if he discovered she was poking around his newest case.
* * *
Hope pushed open the mudroom door and was welcomed home by Bigelow. After a round of pets and kisses, she stepped aside to let him go out to do his business. Despite all his bad manners, he was good about not straying off the property. She wanted to think he was grateful he had a loving home he never wanted to leave but, just to make sure, she kept an eye on him. Within a few minutes, he trotted back inside and over to his water bowl.
When he finally settled on his bed, Hope prepared the coffeemaker. She was in desperate need of caffeine. After pressing the brew button, she went through the house and opened the windows.
The day was still mild, with no humidity, so the air conditioning could remain off. Within a few weeks, she’d be cranking the unit to full blast. The coffeemaker beeped, signaling her caffeine fix was ready. Before she poured a cup, she pulled out an elastic band from her purse, gathered her hair up into a ponytail, and slipped off her shoes. After a long drink she was recharged and ready to begin her photo shoot.
On the drive home from the rehab center, she’d run through the shoot setup. It would serve both as a feature for her blog and as a practice assignment for her class, which she wasn’t sure she’d be attending any further. Cal had just learned his wife was dead. He’d suffered through weeks in limbo, not knowing where Lily was or what had happened, and now he had a funeral to plan. She couldn’t imagine him continuing with the workshop.
She set her coffee cup down, grabbed a tray out of a lower cabinet, and began gathering all the props for her shoot setup. Nothing said comfort like a pile of French fries, and she was inspired on a recent visit to a retro diner to make her own fries.
She plated the fries she’d set aside to photograph. The rest were taste-tested, a perk of her job she enjoyed very much. Next she grabbed a glass canning jar, parchment paper, a condiment bowl filled with ketchup, and a red-checkered towel. She’d been playing around with ideas for the layout since the beginning of the workshop.
With the filled tray, she walked into her office, which was just off the kitchen. The room was still a work in progress. One wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling bookcases while the other wall was covered with shelves of props and supplies. A work surface served dual purposes as her desk and craft station, while a table was tucked under a large window. She used the table to photograph her food and DIY projects.
She set the tray on the desk and began setting her scene on the top of a foam board on the table so she could move it around easily. A half turn there, a quarter turn in a different direction, using the foam board prevented her from accidentally knocking something out of frame.
She lined the canning jar with parchment paper and filled it with the French fries. She gathered the kitchen towel on the board and placed the canning jar on top of it. Next, she set the small condiment bowl into a fold of the towel and then grabbed for her camera. She snapped some photographs. She lowered the camera and adjusted the aperture, which was a part of the holy trinity of food photography—the other two were shutter speed and ISO. Understanding aperture was a little confusing at first for Hope but, after a lot of practice, she began to embrace the concept and found her photographs looked much better.
With the camera settings adjusted, she began snapping away again, rearranging as necessary and moving around her table to get shots at different angles. She was lost in the zone of food photography until Bigelow’s deep bark broke the silence. Then she heard the doorbell. She set her camera down, snatched a French fry from the jar, and nibbled on it as she padded out of her office to the foyer.
Her eyes widened as Bigelow raced toward the front door, his strong and destructive toenails tapping on the hardwood floor. No! No! No!
She picked up her pace and intercepted the dog before he reached the door. “Sit!” she commanded.
The dog lowered his bottom to the floor and tilted his head sideways. His expression was wide with confusion. He simply didn’t understand Hope’s problem with the door.
The doorbell rang again and Bigelow made a move to rise to all fours.
“No! Stay.” She reached for the doorknob, all the while keeping an eye on her dog. She twisted the knob and opened the door.
“Hello, Hope.”
Hope’s gaze shifted from her dog to the tall man filling her doorway.
What on earth was Cal doing on her front porch?
Chapter Nine
“What are you doing here?” Hope was suddenly aware her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and her feet were bare. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I apologize for just dropping by. . . . I was driving and I just had to see . . .” Cal’s head dipped.
“There’s no need to apologize. Please, come in.” Hope opened the door wider for Cal to enter. “I was just taking some photos. It was time for a break anyway.”
Bigelow barked.
Hope guessed he wanted to be introduced. “This is Bigelow and his hobby is trouble.”
Bigelow�
�s tail wagged excitedly as he sniffed the visitor. “Don’t mind him.”
She started to shoo the dog away but Cal patted Bigelow’s head. “He’s a friendly little guy.”
“Trust me, he knows how to use that to his advantage. Come on.” Hope led her unexpected guest to the kitchen, with Bigelow trailing behind them.
“You have a lovely home.” His voice sounded monotone, as if he were on autopilot. Considering the circumstances, she wouldn’t blame him if he were. She glanced over her shoulder to see if he was even looking around as he walked to the kitchen. He wasn’t.
“It’s a work in progress.” Hope walked around the island, while Cal stopped and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up, revealing an expensive watch. His eyes were hooded with despair and his shoulders slumped from what she guessed was the weight of grief.
What on earth was she going to say to him? “I am so sorry about Lily.”
Cal nodded. “So am I.”
“Coffee?” She moved over to the coffeemaker and pulled out the carafe.
“Yes, please. I don’t know what possessed me to drive over here. I guess I needed to see where it happened.”
“Maybe it’s too soon.” Hope filled two mugs to the brim with coffee and set one on the island in front of Cal. His presence filled the normally cheerful space with a heavy dose of sadness. She couldn’t fathom what he was feeling. Heavens, she never wanted to find out.
He stepped forward and lifted the mug. “Perhaps. After Detective Reid made the notification, I think that’s what they call it, I sat there on the sofa. Everywhere I looked I saw Lily. I heard her voice.” He pulled a hand from his pocket and dragged his fingers through his dark hair. “It felt empty and lonely. I had to get out. I drove aimlessly and then ended up on your street, at that house . . . or what’s left of it.” He lifted the mug and took a drink.
“Are you hungry? I can warm something up.”
Cal shook his head.
“It’s no trouble. The best part of being a food blogger is there’s always food in the fridge.”
The Hidden Corpse Page 8