The light inside the house came through a window to the right of the small porch. Lia couldn’t stretch far enough to peer through it. She glanced around and spotted a rolled-up hose at the corner of the house, and next to that an upturned bucket. Tall enough? Perhaps.
Lia trotted down the steps and over to the bucket, grabbing and placing it below the lighted window. She planted her foot on it and stepped up, reaching for the windowsill for balance, her head just making it high enough to see inside. At first she saw nothing but a sofa, a couple of small tables, and chairs. But as her eyes scoured the room, she spotted the shoes. Two brown shoes at the end of a pair of legs—legs that were splayed on the floor. Lia had no doubt they belonged to Joan. Just as she had little doubt, from the reddish-brown stain she saw next to the legs, that Joan was dead.
Chapter 26
Lia waited in the yard, clutching her jacket closely and shivering, not from the weather but from what she was sure lay inside the house. When the police car arrived, she was glad to see Brady among the responding officers and hurried up to him to describe what she’d seen through the window. He quickly confirmed it.
“We’ll check all the doors and windows,” he told her, asking her to stay near the patrol car. “If there’s no other way, we’ll have to break in. There’s a chance she’ll be alive.”
Lia nodded but highly doubted that.
An ambulance had apparently been called by the 911 dispatcher, but by the time it arrived it had been confirmed that Joan was indeed dead. An apparent homicide, Brady told Lia, though he declined to offer details.
Lia waited for the investigating team, just as she had after coming upon Darren’s body at the craft fair barn, and she went through an eerie repeat of answering questions multiple times as she’d done then. The difference was that Lia hadn’t found Belinda staring down at Joan’s body. That was a plus, but Lia worried it might not let her friend off the hook.
Belinda had told her that strange tale of being invited to meet Joan on Saturday night and the artist not showing up. If Joan had been killed that night, it would look bad for Belinda unless strong evidence pointed elsewhere. Joan’s venomous social media posts could be taken as a motive, especially since Belinda’s temper was widely known. Lia had to talk to her, though her first attempts to reach her friend were fruitless.
Lia wished Hayley was as close by as she’d been the day of Darren’s murder. As it was, with her daughter at her job in Philadelphia, calling her would only be an indulgence, and an unnecessary disturbance for Hayley. When Brady realized Lia had come to Joan’s place on foot, he received permission to drive her home, though he remained closemouthed about what he’d seen in the house.
“Let’s just say I’m glad you weren’t able to get in.”
Lia nodded. She’d been pushing away uncomfortable imaginings all morning and didn’t need any more to deal with. She did want to know one thing, though. “I’m puzzled how the person who did it got out of the house while managing to leave everything locked up,” Lia said.
“That’s easy,” Brady said. “The front door has a push-button lock. The killer could have simply locked the door on the way out. There was a bolt lock in addition to the push button, but it hadn’t been turned.”
“Which probably means that person had been let in by Joan at some time and was somebody known to her.”
He glanced at her. “That would be my guess. Although we can’t know for sure.”
“Of course.” Who would it have been? Lia didn’t think Joan was the type to welcome anyone in who showed up unannounced at her door, even if she knew them. Whoever it was must have arrived with a tale that convinced her to let down her guard.
“I don’t suppose they’ll find a handy fingerprint on that push-button lock,” Lia said.
“If this was a sudden, unplanned confrontation, maybe yes,” Brady said.
Meaning probably no, Lia concluded. She was sure that Joan’s murder was somehow connected to Darren’s, though exactly how she had no idea. It had to have been planned.
“Is there someone you can call to stay with you?” Brady asked as he turned onto her street. “Maybe Hayley?”
“I’ll talk to Hayley a little later, but I won’t ask her to come here. I’ll be fine,” she tried to assure him, though he probably could see how exhausted she was, both mentally and physically.
That clearly concerned him until he saw Lia’s neighbor, Sharon, hurry out of her house as soon as he pulled up to the curb.
“I heard about it on the news,” Sharon said as Lia climbed out of the patrol car. “I thought you could use some company. And lunch,” she added as she held up a thermal bag. “If you’d rather just have the lunch and be left alone, that’s fine, too.”
“You’re a gem, Sharon. I’d love it if you’d join me.” Lia turned to wave a grateful good-bye to Brady, then led the way to her front door. She asked worriedly, “Did they mention me on the news?”
“Only as a concerned friend. But they said the victim had been part of the craft fair. Since I knew you weren’t home, I made an educated guess. Jack sends his best,” Sharon added. “And his offer to help any way he can.”
“I lucked out when I bought a house next to you two,” Lia said, picking up Daphne, who’d scurried up as they walked in, and burying her face in the cat’s soft fur. “Iced tea or coffee?” she asked Sharon. She set Daphne down and made a move toward the kitchen.
“You sit down,” Sharon ordered, turning her firmly toward a chair. “I’ll take care of everything. You want hazelnut coffee, right?”
Lia smiled at that, but she also protested. “I’m not in such bad shape that I need to be waited on, you know.”
“Anyone who just went through what you did deserves a little TLC. Now, put your feet up and relax. I’ll just be a minute.”
Lia did as she was told, and Daphne added herself to the mix by jumping onto Lia’s lap. The cat’s warmth and purrs worked wonders, and by the time Sharon set out plates and two steaming coffee mugs on Lia’s table, she actually felt relaxed enough to eat.
Sharon’s chicken salad on pumpernickel was delicious. That and her salad of sliced strawberries and baby spinach did their work, bringing Lia’s energy level close to normal. She leaned back in her chair to sip her coffee, ready to talk about her morning’s experience. When she’d gone through it all, including her reason for going to Joan’s in the first place—Joan’s social media blasts—Sharon’s immediate question matched her own.
“Did you talk to Belinda?”
“I haven’t been able to reach her.”
“Hmm. What do you think about that?”
“Only that she’s not the easiest person to get hold of. I don’t for a minute think she could have done this to Joan. But others might think so.”
“The police?”
“I’m sure they’ll question her.” Lia grimaced as assuming they can find her came to mind, but she shook that off. Of course they’d find Belinda. Her often frustrating friend was probably just ignoring her phone for some reason. Aloud, Lia said, “I’m as sure as I can be that there won’t be any evidence to implicate her. But that won’t stop gossip from spreading, especially so soon after Darren Peebles’s murder.”
“Unless they charge someone else right away. There might be news updates online. Let me check.” Sharon picked up her phone to search, shaking her head as she scrolled. “Nothing I haven’t seen already. We’ll just have to wait.”
“I can’t do that. I have to find Belinda. She has to be somewhere in the area.” Lia stood and started picking up plates.
“Are you sure? If you want me to come with you, I’d be happy to,” Sharon offered, grabbing the mugs, and Lia wondered if Sharon worried she might stumble on another body. The way things were going, she might not be too far off. But Lia shook her head.
“No need. I’ll be fine.” She thanked Sharon profu
sely for the lunch and the much-needed comfort, then sent her home with a promise to keep her updated on both her own well-being and any future developments.
Lia had just picked up her car keys to leave when her phone rang.
“I just heard!” Maureen Evert cried. “Was that you who found the poor woman? Are you okay?”
Lia reassured her knitting friend, who tended to hyperdramatize—though in this case Lia couldn’t blame her. Murder was not an especially calming event. Lia gave her a short version of what she’d been through and what she knew at that point. “Would you pass that along to the other Ninth Streeters?” she asked. “I know they’ll all be upset and wanting to talk to me, but I can’t take a lot of calls right now. Just tell everyone I’m okay, and I’ll get in touch when I can.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
Lia checked her phone for any missed calls or texts from Belinda. Finding none, she slipped it into her pocket. Wherever her friend was, Lia intended to track her down. And then give her a good scolding for making things so difficult.
* * *
* * *
Lia drove up to Belinda’s house, its blank windows signaling emptiness. But she went up to the door to press the doorbell, then knocked and called Belinda’s landline, not liking the feeling of déjà vu that crept over her. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d done that morning at Joan’s? She continued the repetition by peering into the living room window, which was much more easily accessible than Joan’s and required only a few steps over from the door to reach. Since the draperies were open, she was able to scan the room, holding her breath as she did so and only releasing it after seeing nothing beyond her friend’s familiar furniture.
Belinda’s car could have been in her garage, and with its covered windows, Lia had no way of knowing. But with no response whatsoever to her knocks and calls, her only recourse was to assume Belinda was elsewhere.
Lia returned to her car to head next to the craft fair barn. As she drove through Crandalsburg, she checked pedestrians for a familiar figure until the streets changed to country roads and pedestrians vanished. Once she reached the barn and pulled into its parking area, she wove through the scattering of vehicles, looking for Belinda’s gray Honda. It wasn’t there, but she still parked and climbed out. Others were inside. It was worth finding out if they’d seen the craft barn manager recently.
As she stepped into the barn, she saw she’d have to wait a bit, as a tai chi class was in progress. Lia walked back to Belinda’s office, but it was—not surprisingly—locked. She returned to watch as the group moved gracefully in unison, following their instructor. The ponytailed woman, barefoot and in loose clothing, spoke softly as waterfall-like music played. It was all extremely calming, and as it proceeded Lia began to feel some of her built-up tension slip away. For that reason, the class ended all too soon, but she was there for a purpose other than stress relief. So as the participants began to disperse, Lia called out, “Excuse me, I’m trying to reach Belinda Peebles. Has she been here today?”
Students turned toward her but as a group offered only blank expressions and shrugs. The instructor, who’d started packing up her gear, apparently was the only one who knew whom Lia was asking about. “I haven’t seen Belinda at all today,” she said. “Which is very unusual.” Her brow puckered. “Is anything wrong?”
At that, several faces turned to Lia with greater interest.
“No, it’s fine,” Lia quickly said. The last thing she needed to do was stir rumors. “I guess she just changed her schedule. I’ll catch up with her later. Thanks.”
Lia hurried off to avoid any further questions and got back in her car. Where could she be? Still no responses to Lia’s calls and texts. Where else should she look?
Lia drove back to Crandalsburg, trying her best not to worry. It was while she was stopped at a light, glancing around with her thoughts elsewhere, that she finally spotted her friend. Lia might have missed her altogether, with Belinda’s dark green shirt matching the paint color of the bench she sat on. But the top of the white plastic bag beside her had been caught by a breeze and waved, catching Lia’s eye. As soon as the light changed, Lia pulled up in front, able to see, as she did, the expression on Belinda’s face. It was a look of horror.
Chapter 27
She’s dead!” Belinda’s first words came out in a croak as Lia slipped in beside her on the bench.
“Joan? That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all day. Is this the first you’ve looked at your phone?”
“I turned it off. I couldn’t stand to see any more of those tweets or people texting me about them. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, either.”
“So you went shopping?” Lia patted the bulky white bag.
Belinda nodded. “What happened to her?”
“I don’t know, exactly. I don’t even know when. All I know is whatever happened, happened in her house. That’s where I found her.”
Belinda’s eyes bugged. “You found her?”
“I just saw her legs,” Lia said, wincing at the memory. “And feet. Through the window.”
“Maybe it was a stroke? Or a heart attack?”“
Lia shook her head. “The police were pretty definite that it was a homicide.”
“But who?” Belinda asked, staring blankly as she struggled with the information. “And why?”
Lia could offer thoughts on why, knowing how Joan relished antagonizing people. But before she could speak Belinda said, “They want to talk to me.”
“The police?”
“They want me to come in.” She held up her phone, indicating how she’d been reached.
Lia thought that was a positive sign. They had asked, not shown up with handcuffs.
“I’d better go.” Belinda gathered up her bag and stood.
Lia grabbed Belinda’s arm. “Take a lawyer with you.”
Belinda turned to her, at first surprised. “A lawyer?” But after a moment she apparently saw the wisdom of it. “Yeah, you’re right. I should.” She groaned. “Great. Another expense I can’t really afford.”
“You can’t really afford not to.”
Belinda sighed. “I know.”
* * *
* * *
Lia watched Belinda drive off after having elicited a promise to call when she could. A feeling of extreme weariness descended on her, the positive effects from the tai chi class not having lasted long. She wanted to go right home but paused to think about that. Sharon had fed her lunch, but dinnertime loomed ahead, and Lia had no desire or means to deal with it. Doubting that Sharon would be delighted to find her at her door begging for more food, Lia glanced around. She spotted a sub shop down the block that offered an easy out, and she headed there.
When Lia walked in, two customers were already at the counter. She got in line behind them, listening to the discussion of choices and taking in aromas of freshly warmed bread and spicy meatball sauces. As she moved up, she got her first look at the woman behind the counter, efficiently slapping cold cuts and lettuce onto a sub roll. It took her a moment, but once the woman turned fully toward her, Lia realized it was Ginny, a familiar presence at the craft fair, but less recognizable in a different setting and wearing a cap and uniform. When it was Lia’s turn, she greeted Ginny by name as the woman tidied her work area.
Ginny looked up, startled, and Lia said, “I’d forgotten that you said you worked here.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and made a twisted grin. “Right. My exciting career. Nice to see you! What would you like?”
Lia recited her favorite, something she had always ordered when she and Tom occasionally stopped for subs: turkey and bacon on wheat, topped with tomato and lettuce. Just saying it out loud stirred a stomach rumble. Ginny nodded, and Lia watched as she moved swiftly from one area to another to cook, toast, and expertly assemble. When she wrapped the sub and took Lia�
��s payment, the shop was empty except for the two of them.
“I heard about Joan,” Ginny said as she handed Lia her change.
“Yes, quite a shock.”
“Awful, but maybe not so surprising? I mean, she could be pretty nasty. Maybe she pushed someone too far?”
Lia thought of the social media posts against Belinda but said, “Who knows what happened. We don’t even know when.”
“Oh? I thought it was Saturday night. You know, because she didn’t show up at the craft fair on Sunday.”
Saturday night, when Belinda had gone out to supposedly meet with Joan. “I haven’t heard anything official about that. I suppose it will come out soon.”
“Yeah, I suppose. Well, enjoy your sub.”
“Thanks. I’m sure I will!”
Lia turned to leave and paused to drop her change into her purse. The shop’s door opened, and she stepped aside to make way for the man who burst in, recognizing Professor Brewer as she did so.
“Ham and cheese,” he ordered, “and make it fast. No mayo.”
Lia looked back and saw Ginny’s mouth set tightly as she got to work. Charming, Lia thought grimly and wondered if there was any connection between the historian and Joan that she could dig up. It was definitely worth a try.
* * *
* * *
With Daphne lingering nearby with interest, Lia polished off the last of her sub dinner at home, grateful for a meal that made little for her to do besides a quick cleanup. She fixed a mug of coffee and carried it into the living room to turn on the local news. As expected, Joan’s murder was the top story. Lia waited hopefully for any new information.
With a photo of Joan filling the screen—barely recognizable to Lia because of the unaccustomed smile on the woman’s face—the news anchor led with “Local artist found murdered in her home,” thankfully not adding found by whom. “Police believe the murder occurred sometime Saturday night.” Lia winced, thinking of Belinda’s weak alibi for that time.
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