The Uninvited Corpse

by Debra Sennefelder

  “It took a little while, but I found at the time of the hit-and-run there was a gym three blocks away. It was called The Fit Center.” He twisted the doorknob and entered the house.

  “So, it’s possible the driver of the car was coming from the gym when the accident happened and that’s why Peaches joined the gym.” Hope followed Drew through the foyer into the living room, where the members had gathered.

  She spotted Sally and Jane on the sofa, while Maretta sat on a chair with her purse on her lap. Audrey was seated on another chair in front of the fireplace so she would be in view of everyone. Meg stood beside her while the rest of the members were scattered throughout the room.

  “We’ll never be able to get a membership list from so long ago,” Drew whispered.

  “I know. But I still think the driver was present the day of the garden tour.”

  “We just need to find out who belonged to the Fit Center way back then. I guess we can rule out the Merrifields.” Drew cast a glance to the elderly sisters-in-law.

  “I think that’s a safe assumption.”

  “Then that leaves us with the rest of the guest list.”

  Hope nodded. “And we can’t rule out Harrison since Cora Mason couldn’t make out the gender of the driver.”

  “Or anybody else who could have slipped in through the door in the study,” Drew said.

  Hope sighed. Just when she thought they were narrowing down the list of suspects, it kept growing.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Audrey looked out to the small group of people gathered in her living room. TSPJ wasn’t a large group, but they were committed and determined to preserve their town from overdevelopment.

  “I feel now is the time to step down as president for personal reasons. Meg will become our new president, and we will hold an election for a new vice president in the coming weeks. I have no doubt each of you will support Meg in her new position just like you’ve supported me. Thank you for coming today.”

  There had been speculation Audrey would step down if she decided to run for mayor. By the knowing nods and murmurs of understanding, Hope didn’t find anyone surprised by the announcement. So Hope wasn’t sure why Audrey wanted her there for moral support.

  Drew snapped a few photographs and broke away from Hope to interview Audrey and Meg for his article. The crowd dispersed into the sunroom, where Audrey had set out refreshments. South facing, the room was bright with the afternoon sun streaming in and simply furnished as a space to enjoy the view of Audrey’s garden. A long teakwood table was set with a punch bowl, several beverage pitchers, and platters of crudité and small appetizers. Hope poured a glass of iced tea and took a sip. Audrey had pulled together a nice spread on such short notice.

  “This is reminiscent of the garden tour, isn’t it?” Jane helped herself to a stuffed mushroom.

  “I hope not. That day ended with a murder. I’d prefer that not happen today.” Hope glanced around the room and everyone seemed relaxed and chatty. From the snippets of conversation she heard, the topic of discussion was preservation business, not murder. No doubt everyone knew Claire had been arrested the day before, but none of them were going to be disrespectful and discuss it in her presence, at least.

  “How are you holding up?” Sally filled up a plate of fresh fruit, heavy on the cantaloupe slices.

  Hope shrugged. “I’ve been better. Claire has a lawyer and he seems to know what he’s doing.”

  “That’s good. Hang in there, kiddo.” Sally squeezed Hope’s arm and then walked away to join another group of members.

  “Drew tracked down one of the witnesses to Mary Beth McCoy’s hit-and-run,” Hope told Jane.

  Jane’s eyes brightened. “And what did you learn?”

  Hope filled Jane in on the visit and the only new piece of information they had uncovered. Though the white sneakers weren’t exactly the clue that would lead them to the driver of the car. She also recapped her visit to Betsy Callahan.

  “I do agree with your theory that the driver of the car was here the day of the garden tour. We should go through the guest list,” Jane said.

  “Yeah, we’re on that.” Drew joined Hope and Jane. “Well, we can rule out you and me.” Drew gestured to Hope. “We were both away at college.”

  “Thanks for clearing me,” Hope said dryly.

  “And you don’t drive, Jane. But what about Sally?” Drew asked with a teasing grin.

  “Drew!” Hope exclaimed and heads turned in her direction. She felt her cheeks heat; no doubt they were flaming red. She quickly faked a smile and waved a motion for everyone to continue as they were.

  Drew chuckled. “What? I’m just ruling people out.”

  “Why don’t we do this later?” Jane suggested.

  Hope thought that was a good idea, and they agreed to discuss the guest list later in private. Drew drifted over to another group to interview while Jane joined Sally back in the living room. Hope marveled at Jane’s confidence that everything would come together to reveal the true killer. But she had doubts. She didn’t see how the pieces would come together when none of them seemed to fit.

  “I know Audrey appreciates that you came.” Meg joined Hope.

  “She put her heart and soul into TSPJ. I’m sure it’s difficult for her to step down,” Hope said cautiously.

  “I’m going to take good care of TSPJ. I don’t want Audrey to worry about a thing. She needs to focus on salvaging her book career and running for mayor. Now that Claire will be out of the race, Audrey is a shoo-in.”

  Meg’s callous comment caught Hope off guard. Even for Meg it was a low blow. It sounded as if Meg had already convicted Claire. Hope glanced around the room. Was that why they were so quiet on the topic? They’d already convicted Claire, too?

  “Don’t count my sister out yet.”

  “Right, she wouldn’t be the first criminal to run for office,” Meg said.

  “How dare you!”

  But the smirk on Meg’s face didn’t disappear. “Face it, the luster of the Early girls has been tarnished.” Meg chuckled and strutted away.

  Hope stood there frozen, struggling to get her rapid breathing under control while her whole body trembled. She didn’t want to cause a scene. So she chose not to follow Meg and tell her off.

  “Alfred and I will do whatever we can to help Claire,” a voice said from behind.

  Hope turned around and found Maretta standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and her purse dangled from her wrist. Even her usual sour look appeared to have softened a touch. Hope was shocked Maretta chose not to pounce on Claire’s situation but instead offered support. Hope didn’t know what to say.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Maretta asked.

  “No, I . . . thank you for your support,” Hope stammered. “I’ll let Claire know.”

  “Be sure you do. And we would appreciate knowing if Claire plans on returning to work. We have a business to run.” Maretta released her arms and marched away, disappearing down the hallway.

  Now that was the Maretta Kingston Hope knew. The other warm and almost fuzzy one freaked Hope out.

  “Hey, I’m heading out.” Drew returned to Hope. “Are you okay?” He reached out and touched her arm.

  The small gesture nearly dissolved Hope into a crying hot mess. “I . . . I’m okay. Just a little tired. I’m going to be leaving soon. Do you want to come over for dinner?” She didn’t want to be alone because she knew the events of the past few days would replay over and over in her mind. Hanging out with Drew for dinner and maybe a chick flick would give her a few hours of peace.

  “Sure. Call you later.” Drew waved good-bye.

  Twenty minutes later the other guests had left and Hope was cleaning up the sunroom. The simple task of filling the dishwasher was a relief from chasing down leads from an eleven-year-old cold case.

  The kitchen door swung open and Audrey entered. “Thanks so much for coming over. I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to clean up
.”

  “Are you sure you want to step down from TSPJ?” Hope closed the dishwasher’s door and set the wash cycle.

  Audrey was the type of person who when she made a commitment stuck to it. Walking away from a cause she was passionate about wasn’t like Audrey.

  “I am. I won’t have time for the group when I’m mayor. It’ll be a struggle to balance the work as mayor and write my next book.”

  “Your next book? So everything worked out with your publisher?” Hope ripped a paper towel off its roll and wiped the countertop.

  “Somehow, despite the disastrous book launch that ended with a murder, my publisher is onboard for another book. I think it’s going to be about entertaining in the garden.” Audrey’s voice was serene, and happiness radiated from her. She truly appeared to be in her glory.

  “That’s great.” Hope crumpled the paper towel. Just a few days ago Audrey’s career was in limbo and now it was soaring. She always managed to land on top somehow. Her life was perfect, wasn’t it?

  “Calista is thrilled with the sales so far. In fact, the book is heading back for a second printing.” Audrey clasped her hands together, and her smile was from ear to ear. She looked as if she was going to burst with happiness.

  “Really?” Hope tossed the paper towel into the trash bin. She wanted to be happy for Audrey, join in her moment of joy, but she couldn’t. Not with murder charges hanging over her sister’s head. All Claire did was show up at a garden tour and her life was turned upside down, while Audrey seemed to be profiting from the tragedy.

  “Looks like I didn’t need your help after all.” Audrey propped a hand on her hip, and her big smile was gone.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Calista told me she asked you to do some stuff for me on social media and that you politely declined. But no hard feelings. We both have a brand to protect. I know I’d do anything to protect my brand. So I completely understand, and I forgive you.”

  Audrey’s so-called forgiveness pricked at Hope. There was nothing to forgive. Hope wasn’t responsible for Audrey’s image. Audrey’s publisher had a publicity department responsible for that. But, for some reason, Hope didn’t think Audrey would agree with her, so it was time to leave.

  “I’m glad everything worked out for you. I better get going.” Hope began to walk toward the door. Her plan was to go home, soak in a warm bath, and drink a glass or two of wine. She’d definitely earned a little pampering after the week she’d had.

  “Wait. I have a bag full of clothes for the church collection. It’s in the study.”

  Hope stopped. Her shoulders slumped. She’d forgotten about the clothing. Twice a year the church had a clothing drive, and Hope volunteered to collect the unused clothing from her friends.

  “I’ll wait here while you go get it.” Hope had no desire to go into the study again. In fact, she never wanted to walk around another person’s house ever again.

  Audrey laughed. “Don’t be silly. You can go and get it. Harrison is over that whole incident. In fact, I think you should come over to dinner next week.”

  “I’d like that, but right now I can’t make any plans.” Hope wanted to be available for Claire, so she didn’t want to make any commitments. “Can I let you know later?”

  “Sure, no problem. Go get the bag so I can let Bigelow out of the garage.”

  Hope turned and breathed deeply. She could go into the room. It was only a room. There wouldn’t be another body in there. And since Harrison was gone, there wouldn’t be an angry, scowling man in there, either. She made her way down the hall to the study with a plan. The plan was to pop into the room, grab the bag, and get out. No lingering or snooping. Just in and out. Simple. Right?

  She pushed open the door and entered the room and saw the large shopping bag stuffed full.

  Work the plan. Grab the bag and leave. Fast.

  She walked directly to the bag, no detours, no side glances, and lifted it. She was surprised by how heavy the bag was. What did Audrey donate? She was always very generous when going through her closet. Hope lifted the bag and she turned to leave the room; one of the handles of the shopping bag broke, and the bag fell to the floor, landing on its side, and a bunch of stuff spilled out.

  Hope squatted to gather up the clothing. She was going to need another bag. There were several sweaters and blouses and a loafer had fallen out. As she refolded the clothing, stopping a couple of times to admire Audrey’s good taste, she realized none of that stuff was heavy. So, what was in the bottom of the bag? She dug into the bag and pulled out the other match to the loafer and some more tops and at the very bottom there was a pair of Moto ankle boots. She pulled one out and studied the boot.

  Just like the one she saw when the person who broke into her house attacked her.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Hope straightened, the black boot still in her hand. It had to be a coincidence. Audrey’s boot just looked similar. Yes, that was what it was. Similar. Chasing suspects and leads had her imagination working overtime. Audrey wasn’t a killer.

  Audrey was a good friend. She was a good neighbor and a good citizen who contributed endless amounts of hours to their community. And she was present when Peaches was murdered. And she was the one who was getting rid of boots that looked like the pair worn by the person who attacked Hope in her home. And that person was probably the same person who tried to drive her off the road. That person had stolen a van from Wallace’s and followed Hope from Elaine’s house.

  “How did Elaine’s cooking lesson go?”

  Hope’s hand trembled. Audrey had asked about the cooking lesson the other morning. How did she know about it? Hope hadn’t told her, and she doubted Elaine mentioned it to Audrey. They weren’t exactly friends.

  “I ran six miles after you left.”

  Could she have run to Wallace’s and stolen the van? It was only a couple of miles from Audrey’s house. For a serious runner like Audrey, that was an easy run. Hope’s heartbeat increased to a scary rate as the craziest idea she’d ever thought of could actually be true.

  Hope dropped the boot onto the pile of clothes. She wasn’t thinking clearly. What Meg said to her earlier and her own guilt for dragging Claire into this mess was clouding her thoughts. There had to be a logical explanation for how Audrey knew about the cooking lesson and why she was donating a pair of boots that looked exactly like the pair Hope saw when she was lying on the floor after being attacked. And she was going to ask Audrey.

  Before she stepped forward to go and find Audrey, she caught a glimpse of the storage box tucked in the corner. The last time she had been in the office, there were newspapers on top of the box. They were gone now. She went to the box, removed the cover and saw the papers inside. She pulled out the clippings. They looked like the shapes of the missing sections of the newspapers Hope found in Peaches’ bedroom.

  She read through the clippings. They were all about the hit-and-run accident that killed Mary Beth McCoy. A wave of nausea rolled through her. She was going to be sick. Audrey was the driver that fateful night. There wasn’t any other explanation. She killed Mrs. McCoy then Peaches and then Vanessa. Hope’s breathing became shallow, and her head spun with the realization that her friend was a cold-blooded killer.

  Friends don’t suspect friends of murder.

  Elaine’s words echoed in Hope’s mind. She was right, and that was why Hope never suspected Audrey. They were friends. At least she thought they were.

  “Ethan,” she whispered. She needed to call him, to tell him what she’d discovered. But her cell phone was in her purse, which was in the living room. Shoot. She looked around and saw a telephone on the desk. She dashed over to the desk, reached for the receiver, and dialed 911.

  “You were just supposed to pick up the bag and leave,” Audrey said coldly.

  Hope twirled around. Audrey was standing there holding a gun pointed at her.

  “Put the phone down,” Audrey gestured with the gun. “Now!”

>   Hope replaced the receiver on the telephone. Her stomach plummeted as everything came together. Now there was no doubt. “You’re the killer? How could you kill those women?” She hoped this was all a misunderstanding. There had to be a logical explanation why her good friend was pointing a gun at her.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Audrey said, her voice cool and calm.

  “Of course you did. Mary Beth’s death was an accident. The police will understand. You didn’t mean to kill her when you left the gym that night.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is you didn’t set out to harm anyone that night.”

  “I didn’t,” she said.

  “Good, good. We can tell the police that.” Hope wanted to make Audrey believe she was still her friend and she was going to look out for her. She would keep that ruse long enough to get the gun away from Audrey and have the police arrest her.

  “I was scared. She came out of nowhere. I panicked. I checked on her, but she was dead.” Her words were flat, as if she was detached from the event. “The scandal would have ruined everything for me. I was getting married the following week.” A smile grew. “My mother had everything planned, and I couldn’t disappoint her.”

  “I understand.” Even though Hope’s stomach churned and panic filled her, she forced herself to remain calm. She had to. She was face-to-face with a killer and she needed to find a way to escape. Maybe if she kept talking, she could find an opening to make that escape. But the gun aimed at her made her doubt her plan.

  “No, you don’t. You don’t understand what it’s like to have to live up to unreasonable expectations. My mother had high standards, just like Harrison does. I’ve done everything I could to not disappoint them. They would have been so disappointed in me if they found out I hit that woman and killed her.”

  If Audrey hadn’t been a murderer, Hope would have felt sorry for her. Perfection came at a high cost, and Audrey always seemed to strive to be the perfect daughter, wife, home keeper, and gardener. She definitely seemed to ace being the perfect killer. Three murders and she showed no remorse.