by J A Whiting
“They might not,” Angie said. “It depends on how high up in the company Elise was. Can you tell?”
“No, not without a chart of the company’s hierarchy. Those two women must know each other. Maybe Elise introduced Julia and her husband to Leon. Maybe that’s the connection.”
Angie felt a buzz of anxiety pulse through her muscles. “There are too many threads in this mess. Which one will lead us to the killer?”
“Maybe the one we least expect.” Jenna narrowed her eyes. “Did you set up an appointment time with the girlfriend of the guy who used to rent the ranch house?”
“Not yet. With everything that’s been going on, it slipped my mind.”
“Text the guy. He gave you his number, right?” Jenna asked. “Let’s meet with that girlfriend. She worked out of the house. She was there all the time. Let’s pick her brain, see what she knows.”
Angie sent the text asking if they could meet. Within five minutes, a day and time had been set. The former renter and his girlfriend would meet Angie and Jenna tomorrow at the bake shop after it closed for the day.
Something jittered over Angie’s skin that made her feel like they were getting close. But to who?
23
“Maybe they’re not coming.” Jenna wiped down the café tables in Angie’s bake shop while nervously taking looks out the window. It had been forty-five minutes since the bakery closed and the former renter and his girlfriend had not yet arrived for the meeting.
“They’ll come.” Angie stacked clean dishes and cups into the upper cabinet. “I know they’ll come.”
A quiet knock sounded on the door and the sisters looked up expectantly. Matthew Harding had his face up near the window in the door peeking into the shop. Someone stood behind him.
Jenna unlocked the door, pushed it open, and introduced herself.
“This is my girlfriend, Donnalee,” Matthew said.
Donnalee appeared to have had a hard life. Her hair was cut short and a bad, blonde dye job made her hair seem about to break off in pieces. She was thin and dark circles showed in the pale skin under the chocolate brown eyes peering out from under the fringe of bangs.
Coffee and tea were offered and brought to one of the tables. Angie placed a platter with assorted pastries in the center of the table and they took seats.
“Thanks for coming to talk with us.” Angie smiled at Donnalee.
Donnalee gave a quick nod.
“I heard you just moved into your own house.” Jenna lifted her mug. “Congratulations.”
A happy smile spread over Donnalee’s face and she took a quick look at Matthew. “It’s a great house. We love it there.”
“Donnalee planted some flowers around the front and in the window boxes.” A look of pride showed on Matthew’s face. “We started painting, too. It feels good to finally have our own place. It was a long time coming.”
Donnalee pushed at her bangs. “It took forever to save up the down payment, but we did it.” When she smiled, a row of perfect white teeth showed. “I never thought I’d have my own home.”
Angie liked Donnalee right away … the way the woman beamed at Matthew, the joy she gave off when talking about her house, made her seem kind and appreciative of all she had.
Donnalee sighed and gave a slight, involuntary shudder. “And we won’t ever have to worry that someone is hiding a dead body on the property.”
“Did you ever see anything strange going on in the garage?” Jenna asked.
“Nothing,” Donnalee said. “Leon would go in there once in a while to get a tool or whatever. I never thought anything was weird, though.”
“Matthew told me that Leon made you uncomfortable?” Angie questioned.
“Leon was really quiet and gave me a few compliments when we moved in. Right away, I felt on edge. I thought he was a creep. I’ve been thinking about it … now I wonder if Leon was just no good at small talk, like he didn’t have good social skills, you know what I mean? Maybe I blew it out of proportion.” Donnalee looked down and then reached over to take Matthew’s hand in hers. “I don’t trust many guys. I learned early on to be careful. Maybe I wasn’t fair to Leon.”
Angie brought up something else. “Matthew told me that you saw a woman come and go from the apartment attached to the ranch house. Can you tell us what you saw?”
“Every so often, maybe once every three or four months, a woman would drive up to the apartment side. She’d go inside, stay a little while, and then leave. At first, I thought it was a cleaning lady, but wouldn’t a cleaning lady come more often and stay longer?”
“Did she bring things inside?” Jenna asked. “Like a vacuum, cleaning supplies, anything?”
“She didn’t bring any cleaning stuff inside. I could see the back of the apartment from my desk near the window.” Donnalee looked from Jenna to Angie. “I wasn’t spying on her or anything.”
Angie nodded, encouraging Donnalee to say more.
“The first time I saw her, I thought someone was moving in. But she left fast and didn’t come back for a couple of months.”
“Could it have been Leon’s sister coming to check on the apartment?” Angie surmised.
Donnalee blinked. “I didn’t know Leon had a sister.”
“What did the woman look like?”
Donnalee didn’t answer right away. “I didn’t really pay attention to how she looked. She’d just come, go in, come out, and leave.”
“Can you remember anything about her at all?” Jenna looked hopeful.
Donnalee gazed at the tabletop gathering her thoughts. “She always wore sunglasses, even on cloudy or rainy days. I remember that because I thought does she think she’s a celebrity or something? You know how singers and actors wear sunglasses a lot? They think sunglasses make them anonymous.” Donnalee shook her head with a smile.
“What about her build?” Angie tried to jog Donnalee’s memory. “Was she tall? Short? Heavy? Slim?”
“She wasn’t tall. Seemed just average. She wasn’t fat. I’d say slim.”
“What color hair?”
Donnalee bit her lip. “Come to think of it, I never saw her hair. She always wore a hat or she had a kerchief over her head. You know, like a bandana.”
Angie’s heart started to sink. She’d hoped that Donnalee would be able to give a good description of the woman who visited the apartment on a regular basis.
“What about the car she drove?” Jenna asked.
“That was odd, too.” Donnalee leaned forward. “It was always a different car. Sometimes, a van … sometimes, a sedan. She even came in a pickup truck a couple of times.”
“Did you ever go outside to talk to her? Or were you ever outside when she showed up?” Angie wondered if Donnalee had ever spoken to the woman.
“I was always at my desk. Once I came home from getting groceries and I saw tire tracks in the snow leading to the driveway for the apartment. I figured she’d come and gone when I was at the store.”
“Could you get a sense of how old she was?” Angie clutched at straws.
“She wasn’t an old lady. She had some energy when she moved, but I couldn’t really say what her age was.” A frown formed over Donnalee’s face. “Sorry, I’m not much help, am I?”
“You are.” Angie made eye contact with Donnalee and smiled. “Lots of little things can help. Even things that don’t seem like anything at all.” Something pinged in Angie’s brain. “You said the first time you saw the woman you thought she was moving in. Did she move things into the apartment that day?”
Donnalee nodded. “She brought in some suitcases.”
Jenna’s eyes widened. “Did she bring them out again?”
“Only one.”
“Can you remember how many suitcases she carried in?”
“Not exactly. It was more than the one she left with though.”
“Think back,” Angie said. “Did the suitcases look heavy? Were they hard for her to carry?”
Donnalee’s forehead fu
rrowed. “I really wasn’t paying much attention. Sorry.”
“Matthew mentioned that you could hear a sound through the wall when the woman was in there,” Angie said.
“Oh, yeah. It sounded like a heavy zipper being zipped and unzipped. Like on a really heavy sleeping bag or a zipper on a suitcase.”
The four people discussed a few more things about living in the ranch house until no one could think of anything else to bring up. Donnalee and Matthew shook hands with Angie and Jenna and headed for the door to leave. Donnalee stopped and looked back at the sisters. “You know, I just remembered something. That woman. A few times I saw her go into the garage before she left.”
Angie’s mouth dropped open.
Jenna asked, “Was Leon around when the woman went in there? Did she go inside to talk to him?”
Donnalee shook her head. “Leon was never there when she came around.”
“How did she get into the garage?” Angie asked. “I thought it was always locked.”
“It was always locked,” Donnalee said. “The woman had a key.”
24
Angie had borrowed Jenna’s car and she and Mr. Finch were on their way to the ranch house to pack up the final few things that Rachel left behind so they could ship the boxes to her. Angie had been talking non-stop since they left the house telling Finch about the meeting with Matthew and Donnalee, the former renters of the ranch house.
“What do you think about that woman who showed up and went into the apartment every three or four months?”
Finch said, “I think it’s possible that the woman showed up more often than that. The woman might have appeared on a more regular basis. Miss Donnalee might not have been around every time this person paid a visit to do whatever she was doing.”
“Leon knew the woman. Matthew asked him about her. He said she was just a housekeeper.”
“Perhaps she was just a housekeeper,” Finch guessed. “Maybe she was hired to check the place out every so often, dust, make sure no pipes had burst … things like that.”
“Why did she have a key to the garage?”
“Possibly for the same reason. She was supposed to check the garage, too.”
Angie’s eyes clouded. “Wouldn’t she have seen the body in the car?”
“There were a lot of things in that garage. It wasn’t easy to move around in there or get near the car. It had a cloth draped over it.” Finch adjusted his glasses. “If she made a cursory look around, which I would think she did, she wouldn’t see the body.”
“Huh,” Angie stared straight ahead. “So you don’t think this woman has anything to do with the dead body?”
“I did not say that, Miss Angie.” Darkness covered the area and Finch observed the shadows of trees and bushes as the car sped past. “I think we need to come up with possibilities and not jump to conclusions. Let our minds ponder situations and behaviors so that we consider everything appropriately.”
Angie smiled. “I prefer going with my gut.”
Mr. Finch chuckled. “There is much to say for that technique as well.”
The car jostled as Angie made the turn into the driveway and brought the vehicle to a stop beside the ranch. As Finch and Angie removed a couple of empty boxes from the trunk, Angie glanced over to the garage as a heavy sense of doom took hold of her. “This place gives me the creeps. Let’s make this quick. I don’t want to be here.”
“It will be our last visit here. We will pack up, leave the key, and never have to return.”
They headed for the house and once inside, began boxing the last of Rachel’s things. Mr. Finch walked the rooms to be sure Rachel didn’t leave anything in them. When he started to leave the bedroom at the back of the house, a glint of moonlight caught his eye and he bent to look out the window. A van was parked next to the back porch of the apartment.
“Miss Angie, I see Leon’s sister, Elise, going into the apartment. She must be going to clean it out so she can put the place up for sale. I will go over and give her the key.” Finch clutched his cane and picked the house key up from the counter.
“Okay. I’m almost done. I’ll turn the knob on the door to lock it once I get everything into the trunk. I’ll meet you outside.” Angie heard the door shut after Finch left the kitchen.
After packing and taping the boxes, Angie left them by the back door and then she found a broom and swept the rooms. She didn’t want Elise charging Rachel extra money for not leaving the place tidy. Through the wall, Angie could hear voices coming from the apartment. It’s a good thing no one lived there when renters were here. Those walls really are paper thin.
When she finished cleaning, she made two trips to the car and put the boxes in the trunk. Slamming it, she turned around. What was Mr. Finch doing? She assumed that he and Elise had engaged in conversation. Heading to the back door to lock it, Angie stopped and froze. Anxiety gripped her chest like a vise and she had an overwhelming urge to get in the car and drive away as fast as she could. She stood up straight and tried to shake the feeling off, but it only increased. Angie shifted her eyes to the back of the house, and then she took off running to the apartment.
Where was Mr. Finch?
Angie slowed and kept close to the rear of the house where she was hidden by shadow. Hearing Elise’s voice, but unable to make out the words, Angie advanced. The door to the apartment was open. The tone of Elise’s voice was harsh. She took a step closer to the steps.
“What are you doing?” a woman said.
Angie whirled. Julia Belton stood a few feet from her.
“I’m looking for my friend,” Angie stammered letting her eyes wander over the woman and the back of the open van. Several suitcases were in the back of the vehicle. “He came over to give Elise the key.”
“Julia?” Elise called from inside. “Is someone out there with you?”
“It’s Angie Roseland.” Julia raised her voice so Elise would hear.
Elise emerged from the apartment with one hand roughly gripping Mr. Finch’s arm. The other hand held a gun.
“Mr. Finch!”
“Stay right there,” Elise growled at Angie. “Don’t move.”
Mr. Finch’s face looked pale as Elise pushed him along to the car. At the van, Elise gave Finch a shove and he sat back into the rear of the van’s cargo area with his legs hanging down as if he were sitting on a bench.
Angie rushed to him. “Are you alright, Mr. Finch?”
“I told you to stand still.” Elise raised her hand to point the gun at Angie.
Julia stared at them with a hateful, pinched face. “You can’t shoot them here. Someone is bound to hear the gun.”
“Go get the rest of the suitcases ready. I’ll take care of these two.” Elise waved towards the apartment and Julia hurried inside.
“What are you doing?” Angie moved her position so that she stood directly in front of Finch. “What are you up to?”
Elise’s upper lip lifted into a sneer. “Plenty.”
“What on earth have you done?” Angie’s heart pounded like a sledgehammer.
“Keep your mouth closed. Sit down next to your buddy.”
Angie shuffled to the van and sat down. She reached for Mr. Finch’s hand and squeezed. “She isn’t going to hurt you. I promise,” Angie whispered.
I won’t let her kill us. Think, think.
Feeling like she was about to pass out, Angie dug her fingernails into her right palm and when she did, the back of her hand moved slightly and hit up against a tire iron lying on the cargo bed floor. Her heart leapt with joy.
She knew that she couldn’t grip the tire iron and get close enough to Elise to swing it at her. They needed a diversion. Something unexpected to throw Elise off. And it had to be quick before Julia came back outside.
Angie squeezed Mr. Finch’s hand trying to send her intention to him as she gently and quietly wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the tire iron and held tight. With the thudding of her heart pounding in her ears, Angie tried to
clear her mind enough to send Mr. Finch a message.
A white light flashed in Angie’s brain and Finch went limp, keeled over and fell out of the van to the ground with a thud. Elise was momentarily caught off guard and took a step towards Finch. That one step was just enough.
Angie swung the tire iron with all the force she had. Elise reacted, but too late. The tire iron caught her squarely on the arm. Elise dropped the gun with a scream of pain and fell like a sack of potatoes to the ground.
Angie scurried after the woman’s gun as it skittered over the driveway. With the weapon in her hand, she crawled to Finch.
“Mr. Finch, Mr. Finch,” Angie gasped.
“I’m alright, Miss Angie. We’re both alright.”
Angie rolled to her back when she heard Julia coming to the back door, leapt to her feet, and held the gun out straight in front of her. “Don’t you move,” she warned Julia. “Dial 911, Mr. Finch.”
“Don’t you worry. I’m on it, Miss Angie.” Still sitting on the ground, Finch pulled out his cell phone and placed a call to the Sweet Cove Police Department.
25
When Chief Martin and two of his officers pulled up to the house and ran to the back with their guns drawn, Angie was never so relieved to see anyone. She handed over the gun she was holding and sank down onto the ground, her whole body shaking.
Mr. Finch knelt beside her and held her in his arms.
Angie smiled weakly and whispered. “It’s a good thing Elise and Julia didn’t know I have no idea how to shoot a gun.”
“You looked very convincing, Miss Angie.” Finch winked.
An ambulance arrived and the attendants hurried over to tend to Elise’s broken arm as an officer handcuffed Julia and took her to one of the police cars.
Officer Talbot had gone inside to secure the apartment. His eyes were wide when he stuck his head out of the door. “Chief. You better come in here.”