The Hidden Corpse

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Wait.” Matt reached out and drew Hope’s attention back to him. “I think you have the wrong idea. I just got out of a long-term relationship, so I’m not ready to date anyone.”

  Hope’s shoulders slumped. He’d had his heart broken. Thank goodness he wasn’t a cad. “I’m so sorry. Breakups are hard. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

  While she did sympathize with him, a small part of her was relieved to know the reason why he wasn’t interested in her romantically. With her pride restored, she lifted her fork again. Maybe she didn’t make a complete fool out of herself after all.

  “Rodney and I had been together three years last month.”

  Rodney? Oh, God. Any chance of her not making a fool out of herself was gone. She wanted to bang her head against the table and then crawl under it.

  “His career was more important than our relationship. He was offered a position in Oregon and moved out.”

  Hope cringed inwardly as an uncomfortable silence descended upon them again. She didn’t know what to say to Matt. What could she say? She pierced a slice of cucumber with her fork and took a bite. “This dressing is really good.” She finished chewing and wondered if she could get her linguini to go.

  “There you are.” Drew rushed to Hope’s table, coming up short. He knocked the table with his legs.

  Both Hope and Matt reached out to secure their water glasses.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “What are you doing here?” Hope was confused by his appearance and even more embarrassed than she was just moments ago because now heads were turned in their direction and looking on with curiosity.

  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Drew asked.

  “Because I’m having dinner.” Hope’s jaw was clenched. People were watching them.

  “We need to talk. Hi, Matt.” Drew gave a small wave.

  “Hey, Drew. What’s going on?”

  “I need to steal her for one sec.” Drew reached out and assisted Hope up from her chair.

  She swatted off his handling, but he grabbed her again to lead her toward the front of the restaurant. She wobbled in her high-heeled sandals. She couldn’t get her balance with Drew pulling her. As she looked back at Matt, their waiter approached the table. He had to be inquiring about the scene that was unfolding. Okay, it was official. This was the worst non-date she’d ever had. Ever.

  “Sorry for interrupting your date.” Drew let go of her once they were out of the earshot of the other diners.

  “Don’t be. It’s not a date.” Despite their screwball performance, Hope was actually relieved by Drew’s unexpected arrival. “What’s so important you had to track me down?”

  “You’ll never guess who owns the building Pamela is leasing.”

  “I’m not in the mood for guessing games.”

  Drew frowned. “Date not going well?”

  “It’s not a date. Just tell me who owns the building.”

  “Lionel Whitcomb. Of course, it’s under one of his corporations, but I was able to track it back to Whitcomb.”

  The information had Hope blinking. The mayor’s wife was leasing property owned by the developer who was building all over town, with one of those properties hanging in the balance on a vote by the P&Z Commission. One of those commission members had the spa address in her possession and was the swing vote for the development in question and had ended up murdered. “Coincidence?”

  Drew shot her an “are you kidding me” look. “Do you really believe in coincidences? This could explain why Pamela opened the spa in Westport and not Jefferson.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I dug some more once I found out Whitcomb owns the building. Pamela is paying nowhere near what she should be for rent.”

  “He’s not known to be generous. Why wouldn’t he be charging the market rate for rent?”

  “I’m thinking Milo promised Whitcomb he would receive the go-ahead for the new development in exchange for a discounted lease on Pamela’s spa. Now it makes sense why Pamela kept it quiet. She didn’t want to draw attention to the business. This is big news. Local government corruption,” Drew whispered. “I can’t believe I’ve cracked this story. Ha!” From the cockiness in his voice, Hope sensed Drew’s confidence had returned and if she didn’t rein him in, he’d be writing an article heavy on speculation and light on fact.

  “You may want to hold off on going to your editor.”

  “What? Are you crazy? Why? We have what Elaine told you about Lily’s vote, and I have the very generous leasing terms for Pamela’s spa.”

  Hope shook her head. “Elaine could retract what she told me. Milo and Pam could come up with some plausible excuses. We need more proof.”

  Drew sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Then we need to find it fast. I don’t want Norrie scooping this story.”

  “Okay.” Hope patted Drew’s arm. “We will. I promise.”

  “I should let you get back to your date.” Drew glanced over his shoulder at Matt. “He seems like a good catch.”

  “He is. For the right person.” Hope’s voice was wistful as she followed Drew’s gaze. “I should get back to him. Let’s get together tomorrow.”

  Drew didn’t look happy but nodded in the affirmative. “Enjoy your dinner.” He gave Hope a light kiss on the cheek and left the restaurant.

  She took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the walk back to her table. Surely everyone in the dining room had lost interest in her by now.

  “Is everything okay, Miss Early?” Hayley asked as she stepped behind the hostess station.

  “Yes. I apologize for the commotion.”

  “No worries.” The petite redhead smiled brightly. “We’re getting used to having the press barge in here. Just a few nights another reporter . . . Nora . . . Norrie, yes, Norrie. She breezed in like she owned the place.”

  Hope wasn’t shocked to hear of Norrie’s lack of manners. “Who did she come here to see?”

  “The mayor. Let me tell you, his wife wasn’t happy when the mayor stood and walked out of here with Norrie. They talked for a bit and then she left and the mayor returned to his table.”

  “It must have been important for Norrie to interrupt the mayor’s dinner. Did you happen to hear what they talked about?”

  “I don’t eavesdrop.” The hostess leaned forward and dropped her voice. She certainly wasn’t above a little gossip, it seemed. “I think it might have been about the fire on your street. It was on the same night, you know. He threw down a hundred-dollar bill and left shortly after they talked.”

  “Thanks.” She turned and entered the dining room. As she made her way to her table, heads turned and whispers buzzed. They hadn’t forgotten.

  * * *

  Before she closed the passenger door of Matt’s sedan, Hope leaned in and thanked him again for dinner and for not asking too many questions. When she’d returned to their table after Drew left the restaurant, Matt had probed for answers about the interruption to their meal but Hope had remained tight-lipped. There was a chance she and Drew could be wrong about their theories and spreading gossip about the mayor and Lionel Whitcomb being involved in corruption and murder would be irresponsible of them. Matt had eventually let go of the questions and then moved on to other topics, like how Hope had become a blogger and what had made Matt leave law enforcement to become a lawyer. Even though the night included some embarrassing moments for Hope, it turned out to be a nice evening. Matt said good night and drove away.

  She dashed inside her house and was welcomed home by Bigelow, who acted like he hadn’t seen her in days. Having him reminded her how lonely her home was before she adopted him. She couldn’t imagine coming home to an empty house ever again. After showering him with affection, she headed upstairs to quickly change out of her dress and heels. Bigelow was right behind her and when she wasn’t looking, he snagged one of her sandals and used it for a fun toy. She yanked the shoe from his mouth and reprim
anded him, but his big brown eyes showed no remorse, just playfulness. She sighed and stashed her shoes in her closet.

  Changed into a pair of jeans and a cotton sweater, she grabbed her purse and headed for the back door. Bigelow followed. He looked at her. His big brown eyes had shifted from playful to hopeful. She knew that look and couldn’t deny him a car ride.

  Within minutes, they were at the police station and the dispatcher was buzzing her and Bigelow into the main office. They made their way to Ethan’s office. She rapped her knuckles on the door and he looked up from his paperwork.

  “Hey, you got a second?” Hope asked as she led Bigelow into the office.

  Not exactly a corner office like the one Hope had managed to snag before her stint on reality television, Ethan’s office was modest in size and had a view of the back parking lot. The space was functional, but a few personal touches had been added since he spent so much time there. A long, comfortable sofa lined one wall and on the opposite wall a floor-to-ceiling bookcase held reference books, framed photographs of former colleagues, and sports memorabilia. The only personal item on his cluttered desk was a photograph of his two daughters.

  “What’s up? And why do you have Bigelow with you?” Ethan set his pen down and swiveled his chair around, clapping his hands and whistling for the dog to come to him.

  Hope let go of the leash and Bigelow trotted over to Ethan for pets and a treat. Ethan pulled out a dog biscuit from a box tucked into the bottom desk drawer.

  “You shouldn’t spoil him,” Hope chided.

  Bigelow took the biscuit and trotted over to the sofa. He jumped up and settled down to eat his treat.

  “Make yourself at home.” Ethan laughed. He closed the box and shut the drawer. “So, what’s going on?”

  “I have some information you should know about.” Hope sat on one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

  She’d promised Drew they’d meet up the next day and make a plan, but as she ate dinner, she thought the police needed to know what she knew, theory or not. Drew probably was going to kill her, but if what she was piecing together was true, then she was getting way in over her head.

  Ethan nodded slowly. “I do appreciate you’ve come to me. Let’s hear it.”

  “I believe that Milo and Lionel Whitcomb are involved in criminal activity.”

  “Pretty strong accusations. Do you have any proof to back up what you’re saying?”

  Hope spent the next fifteen minutes recapping all of the information she’d gathered. When she was done, Ethan leaned back and scrubbed a hand over his face. Day-old stubble and the deep bags beneath his eyes reminded Hope of how many hours Ethan was putting into the investigation. Maybe she should have waited until the morning to talk to him.

  “Drew found the records of Lionel’s ownership of the building Pamela is leasing.”

  “Not enough proof. Though, it could be used to start building a case of corruption. But do you really think either man is capable of murder?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I can’t see Milo killing anybody. Lionel? Well, he does have a temper and if Lily flat-out refused to vote his way, I could see him lash out. Look, Ethan, I don’t know what any of this means, but I thought you should know.”

  “I’m glad you told me, even though you weren’t supposed to be involved. I’ll fill Reid in tomorrow morning.”

  “Great. I hope it helps with the murder investigation. I guess we should be going.” Hope stood and looked at the sofa. Bigelow had finished eating the biscuit and fallen asleep. “Maybe I should leave him.”

  Ethan chuckled. “I’m not sharing my bed with him.”

  “You’re not going home tonight?”

  “Probably not. I have a ton of paperwork. I’ll catch a couple hours of sleep.”

  “You look exhausted. You should go home to a real bed.”

  “I will. At some point. When this case is closed.” Ethan walked around the desk. “I’m going to have Warner escort you home since it’s late.”

  “Why? I have a guard dog.” Hope laughed as she nudged Bigelow awake.

  The dog yawned widely before jumping off the sofa.

  “Some guard dog. He’s barely standing up.” Ethan walked to the doorway and called out for the officer. He gave his instructions and turned to Hope. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Don’t work too hard. And make sure you get some sleep.” With Bigelow’s leash in her hand and him by her side, they exited Ethan’s office.

  Officer Warner followed behind them as they walked out of the main office. Most of the desks were empty and Hope spied Detective Reid’s office, which was dark. He’d probably want to question her about what Elaine told her. Though she’d bet money Elaine would deny what she’d said about her husband, and Hope couldn’t blame her. Even if she didn’t deny what she had said, Hope wondered if her statement could be used in court because Elaine and Lionel were married.

  Passing through the doorway that led to the lobby, she pulled out her cell phone from her back pocket and dialed Drew’s number. He was going to burst a gasket when she told him about her visit to Ethan, so she was thrilled to get his voice mail. “Don’t be angry with me.” Yeah, that was a great way to start a conversation. “I’m leaving Ethan’s office now. I told him about Lionel and Milo. I don’t know what he’s going to do with the information, but you may want to be at town hall tomorrow first thing. Love you.” It wouldn’t hurt to remind him of her affection for him.

  She swiped the phone off and opened the main door and stepped out into the cool night air. Officer Warner broke away to go to his vehicle while she headed for hers.

  Bigelow tugged at his leash as they approached her SUV and her thoughts drifted to Milo. Did she just do the right thing? What if he wasn’t involved and the lease on Pamela’s spa had nothing to do with improper dealings with Lionel Whitcomb? Any hint of impropriety could damage Milo’s reputation. His career. Pamela’s career. She could totally be wrong.

  Bigelow barked and his haunches raised, prompting Hope to halt. She noticed a figure between herself and her vehicle.

  “Good evening, Hope.”

  “Milo? What are you doing here?” She glanced to the rear parking lot for Officer Warner’s car. Where was he?

  “We need to talk.” Milo stepped forward and Bigelow’s bark turned into a deep growl. He bared his teeth.

  “Officer Warner will be pulling his car around any second.” At least she hoped so. A coldness had lodged deep in her gut. The chance meeting with Milo wasn’t a coincidence, and Hope wasn’t feeling a friendly vibe from Milo.

  “Then I’ll make this quick. I don’t know what you think you know, but I advise you to mind your own business.” An edge had crept into his voice. Gone was the amiable mayor.

  “Or what?”

  He scoffed. “You’ve always been a stubborn girl. There are consequences to every action. I’m willing to pay mine. Are you?”

  Before Hope could reply, headlights appeared from the back parking lot.

  Milo looked over his shoulder and then back to Hope. “Have a nice evening.” He strode away toward Main Street and disappeared into the night.

  “Everything okay, Hope? Who was that?” Officer Warner asked from his rolled-down window.

  “The mayor.” Her voice was shaky and her racing heart was pounding. Maybe she and Drew weren’t wrong about the mayor.

  Warner glanced at Bigelow. “He doesn’t seem too happy with the mayor.”

  He’s not the only one. The dog was still on alert, his gaze fixated ahead.

  She rubbed his head. “Sorry for the delay. It’ll take us just a minute.”

  She tugged on the leash and led Bigelow to her vehicle. She opened the back passenger door and Bigelow jumped onto the seat. Closing the door, she also shut down her doubts.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hope and her fellow bloggers were ushered into the community room by Beth Green. There Beth had set up the table and arranged rows of folding ch
airs for the audience. The space was typically used for functions, like the annual bake sale and speaker events, because of the large audiences they attracted.

  Editions of novels authored by town residents were displayed in a tall bookcase hand carved by a local woodworker. Browsing the bookcase was like taking a trip through Jefferson’s history. All of Jane’s mystery novels were set on a shelf, along with a framed photograph of the town’s favorite author. Along the wall several paintings by local artists hung and, on the fireplace’s mantel, photographs of the founders of the library were on display.

  What started out in the living room of Frieda Bishop’s house lending books to neighbors became the town’s first library in 1903. Along with two other Jeffersonians, Fred Merrifield and Louisa Dayton, Frieda was able to relocate the library to a small house just north of the existing police department. Over the years, funds were raised to build the current library and it thrived through community involvement and interactive programming.

  Hope looked out at the crowd from her seat at the table, where she was joined by Louis, Felicity, and Elena, who eventually showed up, albeit late. Every seat in the audience was occupied, and the attendees listened intently to what the bloggers had to say. A whole bunch of hands were raised once the panel opened the floor to questions.

  “How many times do you try a recipe before you write your post?” a woman from the third row asked Felicity.

  As Hope had prepared for her day, she had to also prepare for coming face-to-face with Felicity. There were a few ways she could handle the backstabbing blogger from Brooklyn. Some ways, while satisfying, would only serve to hurt Hope in the long run. It was best for her to maintain self-control and take the high road. As her mother always said, “Let them roll around in the gutter while you stand proudly on the sidewalk.” Heeding her mom’s advice, Hope pasted on her most professional smile and pretended nothing was wrong.