“She paid, didn’t she?”
David nodded angrily. “With fifty-cent pieces! Can you believe it? She had a whole purse full of them.”
“They’re still legal tender. At least she covered her bill.”
“How about your customer? Did she pay you in euros?”
I grinned. “Wasn’t her accent adorable? No, she had a stack of hundreds in her purse.”
I was feeling good about the world again. Ekaterina had had that effect on me. The warm glow died instantly when the sheriff stormed into my shop.
“What did you say to my wife?”
So it was going to be one of those conversations. Well, if the sheriff was looking for a fight, he’d come to the right place.
“I didn’t say anything to her that is any of your business,” I snapped back, matching his tone.
“You shouldn’t have talked to her.”
I saw David edging toward the back, and a part of me didn’t blame him. This wasn’t his fight, at least not this part of it.
“She nearly ran me down on the sidewalk outside my shop. What was I supposed to do, just ignore her?”
He huffed a few times, as if trying to catch his breath. “I’m not talking about that, and you know it. Why did you bring up Betty Wickline’s name?”
“We were standing out in front after a murder happened here. What did you want me to do, ask her about the weather?” I took a deep breath myself and added, “She reacted rather strongly to Betty’s name.”
“They never did get along,” he answered sullenly.
“If you ask me, I think your wife is glad Betty’s dead.”
Okay, maybe I was pushing him a little too hard, but I wanted to see his reaction. I’d been hoping for a screaming denial, or at least some response. Instead, I saw his expression go as cold as ice. Two seconds later, he stormed out without another word.
David poked his nose around the corner. “Is it safe to come out?”
“I don’t know, but the sheriff’s gone, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He shook his head. “Wow. You really know how to get along with law enforcement, don’t you, Carolyn? I thought for a second there he was going to shoot you.”
“It wouldn’t have surprised me a bit,” I admitted as I started to shake. Confrontation always did that to me, and though I never backed down, I wasn’t always that comfortable arguing with anybody but my husband. “He reacted pretty forcefully, didn’t he? What do you think that means?”
“I think it means he was defending his wife,” David said.
“Does that mean you think she needs to be defended?”
“Don’t read too much into it,” he said. “To be honest with you, I kind of admire the guy for doing it.”
“Maybe,” I said. Was David right in his assumption that Hodges was just being overprotective of his wife, or was the sheriff hiding something darker and more sinister? I didn’t know yet, but I wasn’t finished pushing him, either. If my prying made some folks around town mad at me, they were just going to have to learn to live with it. I wasn’t about to go to jail for a murder I didn’t commit.
“That was a truly great day,” David said as we stood on the sidewalk and locked the store up at closing time. “It was nice having actual customers in the shop again.”
“I could get used to it myself,” I said with a grin. The bite of my earlier conversation with Sheriff Hodges was gone, probably because I’d been doing what I loved for most of the afternoon. “Do you have big plans this evening?”
“I’ve got a class tonight on Renaissance art. It’s all I can do to stay awake in it.”
“I’d love to hear that lecture. You’re so lucky.”
“Want to trade evenings? I’m sure whatever you’re doing will be more exciting than my plans.”
I patted his shoulder. “I’m not sure Bill would enjoy your cooking.”
“Hey, I’m a good cook. I make a mean waffle. Ask Mom.”
“Between the two of you, you’ve got breakfast just about covered then.”
“So what else is on tap for your evening?” he asked.
“I don’t know. After that, we might play some Scrabble, or maybe watch an old movie. There’s a Don Knotts retrospective on tonight, and I’m dying to see The Ghost and Mister Chicken again.”
“Art class it is, then.” He shrugged, then added, “See you later, Carolyn.”
“Bye, David.”
Despite the impression I’d just given my assistant, I didn’t have to get home right away. Bill had warned me earlier in the day that he was going to be working late for the next few days finishing up a pair of Shaker dressers a customer had ordered. Since I wasn’t cooking dinner, there was no real need to go straight home. Despite the sheriff’s desire that I butt out of the murder investigation, I was going to push forward and shake a few more trees to see what might fall out.
“Carolyn, over here.”
Kendra Williams called out to me as I walked by her place. Had she been lying in wait for me to pass by? A part of me regretted that she wasn’t terrified of me anymore. At least then I might have gotten some peace and quiet. But then again, maybe she had more on Betty Wickline’s love life, and I needed all the help I could get tracking down her latest paramour.
I paused for a second, then turned toward her. “Were you calling me?” I asked. “I was deep in thought.”
As I approached her, she asked, “Were you thinking about the murder?”
“Among other things,” I said. “Do you have anything new for me?”
“About Betty’s latest love? No, nothing yet. I was just wondering if you’ve managed to uncover any more clues.” The woman was positively salivating at the prospect of hearing more dirt on the murder victim. No matter how I’d felt about Betty—and let’s face it, the whole world knew my feelings—I wasn’t about to drag her name through the dirt any more than I had to.
“I’m still working on it,” I said.
I was trying to find a delicate way to disengage from her when Kendra said, “You should talk to Annie Gregg.”
“I don’t believe I know her,” I said.
“She’s Don Gregg’s daughter.”
“Still no bells,” I said.
“From Harvest Glenn,” she continued.
“Okay, I know where the town is, but I still don’t know the Greggs. What do they have to do with Betty?”
Kendra looked disgusted. “Not Don, he’s an engineer for the county, and as far as I know, he never even met Betty Wickline.”
“So why should I speak with his daughter?”
“You really don’t have a clue, do you? Annie cleans houses all around the county. She’s saving up to go to school, since Don’s paying alimony from his first marriage and doesn’t have a dime to spare.”
This woman was driving me crazy. In fact, if Kendra’s body was ever found in her shop, I wouldn’t have any problem being named a suspect in that particular crime.
“And that matters how?” I asked.
“She cleaned Betty Wickline’s house.” Kendra lowered her voice as she added, “Not only does she have the dirt on Betty, and I mean that literally, but she’s also got something much more important. She has a key to Betty’s house.”
That certainly got my attention. “How do I get in touch with her?”
Kendra handed me a slip of paper. “That’s her cell-phone number. Give her a call, Carolyn.”
“I will. And Kendra?”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
She looked startled by my appreciation, and if I didn’t know any better, I could swear she blushed slightly for just a second. “You’re welcome.” She looked down the walk, then asked eagerly, “Any chance I could go with you when you search the house? I might be able to find something you would miss. I’ve got a keen eye for detail, you know.”
And just when I was starting to feel all warm and fuzzy toward her. “No, thanks, I can handle it.”
“You will tel
l me what you find though, won’t you?”
It was probably the least I could do, given that she’d handed me this lead herself. “Fine. I’ll let you know.”
I was tempted to call Annie on the spot, but I needed some privacy for the conversation, and some kind of plan to get her to open up to me without alerting her to my true intentions. Blast it all, I suddenly realized that I was walking toward the upper parking lot when I’d parked my car in the opposite direction. I had to walk past Kendra’s shop again to get to where I’d left the Intrigue early that morning, but Kendra was busy haggling with a customer, so I made it past her the second time unscathed.
Back at my home, I raced around the house tidying up before Annie Gregg showed up for our appointment. She’d readily agreed to come for an interview. I didn’t need someone to clean up after my husband and me, but it was the only way I could think of to get some time with the girl. My, how had the place gotten so dusty? I ran a rag over the high spots, stopping long enough to put away a few errant things like last week’s laundry and some magazines from the Carter administration. I just about had the place in good order when the doorbell rang.
I opened the door to find a trim, young brunette with big brown eyes waiting for me. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t put my finger on who.
“You must be Annie,” I said as I offered her my hand.
“And you’re Mrs. Emerson.”
“It’s Carolyn, please,” I said. “Won’t you come in?”
“Thanks.”
As I took her coat, I could see Annie studying the place. I glanced around, unsure of what she was seeing. After all, I’d cleaned up, hadn’t I? I had to admit, there were some spots my dust rag had missed, and the magazines I’d so carefully stacked by the sofa in the living room had fallen over like a house of cards.
“Can I get you something to drink? Some coffee, or perhaps a cup of tea?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love some tea.”
“Then why don’t you come back into the kitchen and we can chat there?”
I saw a few things I’d missed in there as well. Maybe after my investigation was over, I’d consider hiring Annie after all. It might be nice to have an extra hand sometimes, since Bill wasn’t about to pitch in. That wasn’t entirely fair; he’d help out whenever I asked, but it would be lovely not having to ask.
As Annie settled onto a bar stool, she said, “I have Wednesday mornings and Thursday afternoons free, but I’m afraid I’m booked solid the rest of the week.”
“My, you’re an ambitious young lady, aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “I want to go to Stanford, and at the rate I’m working and saving, I’ll be able to register next year.”
“That’s a difficult school to get into, isn’t it?” As soon as the words left my mouth I realized I sounded a bit snobbish. “It doesn’t mean I don’t think you aren’t qualified. Oh dear, I’ve really stepped in it, haven’t I?”
Instead of being angry, Annie just laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s pretty hard to offend me. I got in on my own, and I’m planning to use student loans if I have to, but I’m hoping to get a partial scholarship to supplement the earnings I’ve made cleaning.”
“Then I probably can’t afford you,” I said as the kettle started to whistle.
“Don’t be so sure. It’s not as bad as you might think.”
She quoted me a price that would take my entire “fun fund” from Bill’s chair earnings as well as a nice chunk out of my weekly house budget. It appeared that I was going to have to make do on my own, at least until I had a chain of Fire at Will shops instead of my lone store.
As we sipped our tea, I said, “I understand you worked for Betty Wickline.”
Her mug paused midway between the counter and her lips. “That was a terrible thing, wasn’t it? That’s why I have Thursday afternoons free.” She hesitated a second, then asked, “They found her in your shop, didn’t they?”
“I didn’t kill her,” I said bluntly, wondering how many times I’d have to make that particular declaration.
“Why, I never thought you did,” she said. “If we’re being honest, maybe it did cross my mind a few times. It looks bad for you, doesn’t it, Carolyn?”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “There are enough folks who could cripple my business with a boycott if I don’t figure out what really happened to Betty. Is there anything you might have seen or heard that might help me?”
She frowned. “What about the sheriff? Surely he’s investigating the crime.”
I shook my head. “I’ve got reason to believe he might be involved in it himself.”
Annie took a sip of tea, then said, “That’s a pretty bold accusation.”
“I’ve got my reasons, but I’d rather not tell you what they are. Annie, I’m in trouble. Will you help me?”
She looked startled by the request, then said, “I wish I could, but I’m not sure what I can do. I just clean; I don’t snoop when I’m doing it.”
“I never meant to imply that you did,” I said. There was something about this girl I liked. She was forthright and open with her emotions, and as far as I could tell, guileless. “I’m just wondering if you might have seen or heard anything that made you suspicious.”
After pondering my question for a minute, she replied, “No, sorry, there’s nothing I can think of.”
“Do you still have a key to her place?” I’d debated asking her, but really, what choice did I have?
“Yes,” she said softly. “Why do you ask?”
“Maybe if we could go over there together, I could look around some. I don’t want to disturb her things, but there might be something there that might tell me who killed her.”
I doubted she could have looked more uncomfortable. “I don’t know about this, Carolyn. It seems kind of sneaky.”
“That’s because it is,” I agreed. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. How’s your tea?”
“It’s fine,” she said. After a full minute of silence, Annie said, “I do have some of my things over there I need to get. Some cleaning supplies and things like that. I suppose you could go with me.”
“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” I said, trying to hide my elation.
“No, it’s okay. I can’t imagine how horrible it must be to be suspected of murder and not be able to do anything about it.”
“You’re a real sweetheart,” I said as I patted her hand.
“When would you like to go?”
“How about right now? Let me grab my car keys and I’ll follow you there.”
“Okay, I guess that would be all right.”
The poor girl barely knew what hit her. I was afraid if I gave her any time at all to think about what she was doing, she’d back out, no matter how sympathetic she was to my cause. And I couldn’t afford that. I had to ratchet up my efforts if I was going to find Betty Wickline’s killer, and if that meant crossing a line with the sheriff, then I was going to walk boldly across it. As I followed her through town to-ward Betty’s place, I kept hoping that Annie wouldn’t get cold feet and bar my access after all.
To my relief, she led me around the drive to the back of the house, and after we both parked, she got out and said, “I always had to park back here. It’s the only lock my key fits.”
It was a rather modest home, not quite what I’d been expecting. A thought suddenly occurred to me. How had Betty afforded Annie’s services? Where was her money coming from? As we approached the door, I wondered what we were going to find inside.
Chapter 8
“Oh, my lands, what happened here?”
I followed Annie inside and looked around the kitchen. We’d turned on one of the lights, and I hoped no one saw us snooping.
The kitchen was a wreck. The contents of cereal boxes, flour bins, coffee tins, and other containers had been strewn out across the counters. Not a drawer or door was
left unopened, and the remnants of Betty Wickline’s pantry looked like a hurricane had hit it.
“I’m guessing it wasn’t like this the last time you saw it,” I said.
“Of course not.”
Annie started cleaning up when I put a hand on her arm. “You probably shouldn’t do that. The police are going to want to see this before we touch anything.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. My first reaction to a mess is to clean it up, do you know what I mean?”
“For now, you’d better resist the urge,” I said.
Annie reached for Betty’s phone when I stopped her. “We shouldn’t touch anything, remember?”
“I keep forgetting. Let me get my cell phone.”
As she dug into her purse, I asked, “What for?”
She looked at me, the confusion clear in her eyes. “We’re going to call the police and report this, remember?”
“Not just yet,” I said. “Why don’t we look around a little first?” There was no way Hodges was going to let me search the place after he was on the scene, and really, what did it matter if I called him right now, or in half an hour?
“I don’t know about this, Carolyn,” Annie said. “This is a little more than I bargained for.”
“You can leave if you want to. I’ll say the back door was open, and I saw a light on or something like that. I won’t even tell the police you were with me.”
Annie shook her head, looked around a second, then said, “No, I’m fine. I’ll stay here with you.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I’m not going to leave you with another mess on your hands,” she said. Then she looked around again. “I didn’t mean this.”
“I knew what you meant, and I appreciate it. Try not to step in the spilled flour. We don’t want to leave any footprints.”
I know Annie was right. We should have called Hodges right away—and I was going to call him eventually, honestly I was—but I needed to have a look around first.
A Murderous Glaze Page 11