The Uninvited Corpse

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Is that all you have to tell us, Detective Reid?” Claire asked.

  Hope heard the tone in her sister’s voice and knew Claire was looking for an apology for being accused and arrested for two murders.

  Before he could answer, his cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of its case on his belt. He looked at the phone. “I have to take this. Have a nice day, ladies.” With the phone to his ear, he walked away.

  “Can you believe him?” Claire asked.

  Hope nodded. “Yes, I can.” She took the cup of water from the tray Claire held and set it on the sidewalk for Bigelow. He eagerly lapped up the water. “He was thirsty.” Maybe she was getting the hang of being a dog mom after all.

  “So am I. Let’s take these lattes back to your house,” Claire suggested.

  “Sounds good to me. Then I want to shower and get everything ready for the party tomorrow.” Before Hope could remove the cup from Bigelow, someone shouted out her name.

  She looked up. Vera Jordan was approaching them. Vera’s resemblance to Vanessa made Hope’s heart seize. She guessed it would take time for that to stop. Hope wasn’t the only one who saw Vera. Bigelow noticed the woman walking toward them and got excited all over again. He pulled on his leash, and his dancing feet knocked over the cup, splashing Claire’s red suede pumps.

  “Oh! No!” Claire screeched as she jumped away from the puddle of spreading water, but it was too late. The tips of both shoes were soaked.

  “Oh, boy.” Hope grabbed the napkins tucked in the tray and feverishly patted the shoes to soak up the water. “He didn’t mean to do that. Right, Bigelow?” She grimaced as water stains set into the shoes. “I think I can fix this.”

  “He’s a menace.” Claire pointed at Bigelow.

  Hope straightened. “Just let them dry. They’ll need at least twenty-four hours. Then I’ll rub them with a suede eraser and finish it off with a lint brush to restore the nap. You’ll never know they got wet.”

  “What’s going on?” Vera reached them and her forehead crinkled with confusion.

  “That dog ruined my new shoes,” Claire blurted out.

  Hope let out an exasperated breath. “They’re not ruined.”

  Claire pointed her manicured index finger at Hope. “You owe me a new pair of shoes. I’ll send you a link later and I want two-day delivery.” Claire lifted Hope’s latte out of the tray and handed it to her. “I’m going back to the office.” She crossed Main Street and disappeared inside the real estate office.

  “Guess I interrupted at a bad time, huh?” Vera patted Bigelow on the head. “He’s such a cutie.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow.”

  “Me too. Van would have wanted me to. And to be honest, I’d kind of like something to do other than crying.”

  “I understand. Then it’s settled. I’ll see you at my housewarming party. And remember, no presents. I have everything I need.” Hope tugged at Bigelow’s leash and began walking back home as Vera entered the Coffee Clique. She did have everything. She had a beautiful—well, it was going to be beautiful when she was done with the remodel—home, and a new career she loved, and her family. What more could a gal ask for?

  “Oh, it’s you.” Elaine’s voice sounded tight, as if she were surprised, but not in a good way. She let the door of the nail salon close behind her.

  Hope stopped and flashed a big smile. “Good morning.” She hadn’t seen her since Elaine announced she’d unfriended, unfollowed, and unsubscribed from all of Hope’s social-media platforms. Hope guessed from the unfriendly tone of Elaine’s voice and the blank expression of her Botoxed face that Elaine was still upset with her.

  “I guess we’ll keep running into each other since we both live in town.” Elaine placed both hands on her hips. Her hourglass figure was accentuated by the navy-blue wrap dress she wore and adorned by a lot of bling. Hope wondered if Lionel offered up a jewelry store as a way to apologize for his indiscretion with Peaches.

  “I think you’re right,” Hope answered.

  “Well, I think you should move.”

  “What?”

  Elaine nodded. “I lived here first. You’re the one who moved to town a few months ago.”

  “Elaine, I was born and raised in this town,” Hope reminded the woman.

  Elaine shrugged. “But you left, then I came, and then you came back, so you should go.”

  The woman’s logic perplexed Hope. And with about fifty people coming over tomorrow to celebrate with her, she didn’t really have the time to try and understand Elaine’s logic. She wasn’t really sure if she ever wanted to understand the woman’s logic. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve apologized for what I did and I hope someday you can forgive me and we can be friends. Until then, you’ll just have to figure out a way to deal with seeing me out and about in my hometown.” Hope tugged on Bigelow’s leash and started walking again. “Oh,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, “the invitation to my housewarming party still stands. I’d love for you to come.” With a wave, Hope turned and continued along Main Street and waited for a break in traffic at the intersection to cross over to Hartford Road. She meant what she said to Elaine. She wanted them to be friends.

  Bigelow walked leisurely while Hope sipped her latte. The spring morning air was filled with a sweetness from the blooming flowers, and a soft breeze swirled while birds chirped in the distance. Hope and Bigelow were going home. They had a party to prepare for.

  As they walked, Hope’s mind wondered to her first big event at her new home. Her heart swelled with pride. She was excited to show off her work-in-progress to all of her friends and family. The old farmhouse wasn’t the first home she’d owned, that would be the condo on the Upper West Side in New York. While she did her best to make it a cozy home, the seventh-floor apartment was still a large rectangle divided into a few rooms. She’d hosted countless dinner parties there as well as brunches for friends on lazy Sundays. That was probably the thing she missed most about living in the city. Her box of a home didn’t require so much work, so lazy Sundays were a way of life. Now her Sundays consisted of a lengthy to-do list, like every other day of the week.

  A honk caught Hope’s attention and she slowed down. Ethan’s truck approached and pulled over to the curb. Bigelow’s tail wagged feverishly and he pulled on the leash. For a little guy, he was strong. She definitely needed to hire a trainer.

  With his window rolled town, Ethan leaned an arm on the door. “I was just at the deli and ran into Batts. He said your car is ready to be picked up. Come on. I’ll give you two a ride over there.”

  Hope smiled. Syd Batts owned Batts & Sons Auto Repair, a fixture in Jefferson since Hope was a little girl.

  “Great.” She dashed around to the passenger side and pulled open the door then guided Bigelow up into the half-seat behind the driver and passenger seats. He sniffed the backseat before settling down.

  “He sure is a happy fellow.” Ethan pulled out onto the road. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, a pair of gray pants and a white shirt with a Windbreaker. As the chief of police, he didn’t always wear a uniform, and being Ethan Cahill, he never wore a suit to work.

  “Batts finished a little ahead of schedule. I’m so happy to get my car back.” Her car had been at the repair shop since it was towed the day she was run off the road.

  “Yeah. He wanted to get it back to you as soon as possible. I think he’s looking for a little reward for all his hard work.”

  “He loves red-velvet cupcakes. I guess I can make him a dozen.” Hope looked out the window as Ethan’s truck chugged along the winding road. In her old life, she would have shoved a couple of fifty-dollar bills into an envelope and handed it to the mechanic, but in Jefferson, she was going to extend her gratitude by baking a dozen cupcakes.

  “I have some more good news for you.”

  “Audrey confessed. I’m in the clear.” Hope turned her head to Ethan, just in time to see his smile fade. Shoot. He’d wante
d to tell her about Audrey’s confession.

  “How do you know?”

  “I ran into Reid a few minutes ago, and he shared the information.”

  “Should I ask how that went?” He glanced over after stopping at an intersection.

  Hope shook her head. “No.”

  “It’s all over now.” Ethan turned his attention back to the road and proceeded through the intersection.

  “No, not really. Sure, Claire and I are cleared of any crimes, but there’s still all the fallout to deal with.”

  “Like what?”

  “Harrison’s life has been turned upside down. His wife is a murderer. Vera lost her sister.” Hope let out a breath and leaned her head against the seat. “I’m having a hard time reconciling everything. For all these years, Audrey lived with the secret of killing someone. I can’t imagine that.” Three years ago, when she was planning a surprise birthday party for Claire, Hope nearly blew the whole thing because she had a hard time keeping the secret. How did someone keep a murder a secret?

  “My guess is that after enough time she managed to convince herself that it didn’t happen. Then Peaches turned up and it all came crashing back to her.”

  Hope nodded in agreement. “Peaches was playing with fire. Once she found out it was Audrey who killed her mother, she should have gone to the police. I’m not saying she got what she deserved. She didn’t deserve to die.”

  “No, she didn’t. You’re right. She should have come to us and let us handle the situation.” Ethan flicked on his signal before turning onto Castle Hill Road. A huge section of the land on the road was in the beginning stages of development by Lionel Whitcomb. The sounds of heavy machines used to move earth rumbled in the distance. According to Claire, that was the sound of progress, but Hope wasn’t so sure about that. She wasn’t certain she wanted Jefferson to change.

  “You know after Audrey stole Wallace’s van and drove me off the road, she sent me flowers. You saw them. Then she attacked me in my own home and had the nerve to show up with a fruit basket. Was she remorseful or was she just checking to see what I knew? I thought she was my friend.”

  “I still can’t believe she ran all the way to Wallace’s to steal the van and then ran home.” Ethan turned the truck onto Commerce Road.

  “Well, she ran marathons. Running a few miles around town was nothing for her.”

  Batts & Sons Auto Repair came into view, and Ethan steered his truck into their parking lot. The one-story building housed a small office and a large garage and all of its bays were filled with mechanics working.

  “Audrey betrayed my friendship and she was going to let Claire take the fall for her crimes. I’m hurt and angry and confused. This wasn’t exactly how I thought coming home would be like. To be honest, I’m not sure I made the right decision. Maybe I should have stayed in New York.”

  Ethan parked the truck, then turned off the ignition. He leaned back and looked at Hope. “You really think so?”

  Hope shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “If you had, then who would have cleared your sister’s name?”

  Now that was a question Hope didn’t expect from Ethan. And she didn’t have an answer for it.

  “Or take in Bigelow?”

  Hope glanced over at the dog. He looked happy. He had no idea his first owner was a serial killer. Lucky dog. “So you think I made the right decision to do a little investigating on my own?”

  Ethan raised his hand in protest. “Wait, I didn’t say that.”

  Hope nodded. “I think you did.”

  “No, I think you put yourself into a very dangerous situation by doing a little investigating on your own. But I do think your stubbornness and tenacity helped uncover the real killer.”

  Hope smiled a triumphant smile. “I did good, huh?”

  Ethan sighed and shook his head. “Yes, you did.”

  A rapping at the passenger window interrupted their conversation. Hope looked over her shoulder. Batts was standing there. She pressed the power button and the window slid down.

  “I have all the paperwork ready for you. Come inside.” The elderly man turned and ambled back to the garage.

  “I should get going. I’ll ask Claire to meet me here later when I return the rental. Thanks for the lift.” She opened the door, got out and then slid the passenger seat forward to allow Bigelow to jump out.

  “See you tomorrow,” Ethan called out.

  “Don’t be late. I’ve assigned you barbecue duty.” Hope wiggled her fingers good-bye and headed for the office with Bigelow beside her.

  Chapter Thirty

  “These are adorable.” Claire picked up one of the paint sample coasters from the table that served as the beverage station. There were four stations set up for the guests out in the yard under a tent, which meant they wouldn’t be hovering around Hope in the kitchen. The appetizer station had platters of hot and cold finger foods and bowls of dips and chips, with plates and utensils. Across from the appetizer station, the beverage station was set up with tubs of ice for beer and glass beverage dispensers of iced tea and lemonade and a few bottles of wine and soda. The third station was the dessert and coffee station that was empty at the moment. The final station was for the main meal, and that was what Hope was working on setting up when her sister arrived.

  “Thanks. I had a bunch of tiles left from a project and countless numbers of paint sample charts, so I decided to make coasters.” With some glue to keep the paint chart and tiles together, sealant to make the coasters waterproof, and felt for the bottoms, she had whipped up a stack of festive coasters. And they’d also made a good DIY project for her blog.

  “Why am I not surprised?” Claire studied the coaster. “Are you sure we’re really sisters?”

  Hope chuckled. “Of course we are. Just because you don’t have a crafty bone in your body doesn’t mean we’re not related.”

  “These must have taken hours.” Claire set the coaster down. She walked over to one of the six tables set up in the tent and pulled out a chair and sat.

  “I’m not sure. But they’re really all I did for the party, aside from the food.” Hope picked up her camera from the table. The housewarming party was going to be featured on her blog the following week, so she needed some photographs of the food, prep work, and lots of the guests enjoying themselves.

  “Restraint?” Claire asked in a shocked voice.

  “I wanted to keep things simple.” Hope positioned the camera above the front of the salad bowl. The vibrant colors of deep green lettuces and bright cherry tomatoes popped, then she tilted the camera up until the bamboo bowl filled the frame. That angle was one of Hope’s favorites to shoot. She clicked away until she had far too many photos of the salad bowl, but, in her experience, there were really never enough photos to select from when writing a blog post.

  Hope looked over to her sister. Poised and elegant in a blue dress with a green cardigan covering her bare arms from the soft breeze, Claire looked serious. Too serious for a housewarming party.

  “What’s wrong?” Hope asked.

  Claire shook her head. “Nothing. I’m glad we have a moment alone before everybody arrives. I wanted to say, you know, ah—well, I guess, thank you.”

  “If you really want to express your gratitude, you could give me the pair of Jimmy Choo pumps you just bought.” Hope smiled as she set her camera down.

  Claire’s upper lip curled. “Hmmm . . . not a chance.”

  “Finally! A front-page story that’s not about a boring zoning issue.” Drew approached the tent, waving a copy of the Gazette.

  “That’s wonderful, Drew.” Hope walked past him on her way into the house. “Good job.”

  “Thank you.” Drew beamed.

  “I hope there’s a retraction about my being unjustly arrested,” Claire said.

  “Retractions are only for when we report something incorrectly. You were arrested, we were not incorrect in reporting that.”

  Hope continued toward the house, leav
ing those two to hash out their disagreement. Inside the kitchen, she pulled out the dish of chicken and a platter of sliders from the refrigerator. She’d opted to make the sliders because they were fun and kids of all ages loved them. She also made a deep dish of macaroni and cheese because no one disliked mac n’ cheese. Ethan would be arriving at any moment and she’d have everything ready for him to start grilling.

  “I don’t think she invited him.” Jane’s voice carried from the living room.

  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t,” Sally replied.

  “Even if she did, how could he show his face here?” Jane entered the kitchen, with Sally behind her. Jane set her purse on the island, then hugged Hope. “Good to see you, dear.” She squeezed tightly. She smelled of lavender and hair spray.

  “Who are you talking about?” Hope removed herself from Jane’s embrace and gave a quick hug to Sally, who was carrying a large basket.

  “Detective Reid,” Jane answered.

  “Oh, no, he wasn’t invited.” Hope removed the lid from the dish the chicken was marinating in. She’d considered inviting him for a brief moment. Okay, it was more like a nanosecond. Perhaps one day they could be friendly acquaintances. One day in the very far future.

  “We brought you a little something.” Sally set the basket on the island.

  “You shouldn’t have. I told everyone no presents.” Even though she had told them that, she was excited about the gift. She untied the cellophane wrapping and found the basket full of goodies. At first glance, it seemed like a hodgepodge of gifts, but Hope knew what each symbolized. The bottle of wine was for joy and to never go thirsty, the loaf of bread represented a bounty of food in her home, the container of salt was for flavor and spice in her life, the bottle of olive oil was for health and well-being, and the plant was for her home to always have life. Her breath caught for a moment. With all the love that surrounded her in Jefferson, her home would always have love.