by Mitzi Kelly
Right now everything appeared normal. The night was quiet, the soft, muted porch lights on most of the houses casting a peaceful glow over the neighborhood. Majestic oaks allowed the branches that reached heavenward to sway gently with the evening breeze, offering a glimpse of the bright stars.
Trish imagined her neighbors sleeping soundly, believing they were safe in their beds in this old, established neighborhood. It was all so sad, she thought tiredly as she walked slowly toward the kitchen. They weren't safe. A murderer was on the loose, and it was very possible an innocent man was going to be convicted of the crime.
And a murderer would still be on the loose.
She sighed and let the curtains fall back into place.
Larry showed up earlier than expected the next morning. "Good morning," Trish said, wiping her hands on a towel. "Come on in. I just put cinnamon rolls in the oven, and I've got fresh coffee. The girls should be here soon."
"We need to have meetings more often," Larry said with a teasing smile as he rubbed his stomach.
If I were a few years younger, we'd be meeting much more often, Trish thought with a rueful sigh.
Once the coffee was served and the pleasantries exchanged, Larry leaned back in his chair. "So, what did you want to see me about?"
"I feel guilty talking about anything before Millie and Edna get here. You may not have noticed, but Millie can be a little ... difficult."
Larry chuckled. "No, I hadn't noticed."
"Yes, she hides that aspect of her personality well," Trish grinned. "Believe me, she has already seen your car parked out front and will be charging over here before you know it. And if you and I were already discussing the case"-she shuddered at the mere thought, causing Larry to laugh out loud-"Millie would never let me forget it. Seriously though, I do believe we've got some interesting news for you."
Just then the buzzer on the oven went off. "Let me ask you something, Larry," Trish said over her shoulder as she went to pull out the pan of cinnamon rolls. "Do you honestly believe, with complete certainty, that Sam killed his wife?"
The question clearly took him aback. "I'm a detective," he finally said. "It doesn't matter much what I believe. It's all about what the facts prove."
Trish looked at him for a moment. "Evasiveness doesn't suit you, but I think you answered my question. I can't say I'm not disappointed."
Larry sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "Please don't read more into what I said than what I meant. I promised to shoot straight with you, and I will. You have to understand my position, though. Nothing has come up so far that will clear Sam"
Trish bit her tongue. Now would be a great time to bring up the subject of Mary Chavez, but it wouldn't be fair to Millie and Edna. Where were they, anyway?
As if on cue, the front door opened and closed with a slam. "Hello? Trish? We're here," Millie's voice rang out. "Is that Larry's car out front?"
"You know good and well that Larry's here," Trish yelled, her nose stuck in the refrigerator, looking for the sweet, gooey icing for the cinnamon rolls.
Millie practically bounced into the kitchen, looking quickly from Larry to Trish.
"I haven't told him anything, Millie, so you can relax."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Hello, Larry, how are you?" Millie headed straight for the coffee pot while Edna greeted Larry and sat down.
"It smells heavenly, Trish," Edna said, accepting the coffee Millie brought over.
"This reminds me of my mother," Larry said. "Every Saturday morning she would bake cinnamon rolls or coffee cake and the whole family would gather around. We'd fight over the ones that had the most icing on them"
This reminds him of his mother, does it? Trish thought, pursing her lips. Well, everybody loves cinnamon rolls, but she couldn't help but wish she had made something else-like strawberry crepes or a fancy quiche.
"I'm anxious to hear why you wanted to meet with me this morning," Larry said. "Have you found out anything that will help your friend?"
"You bet we did," Millie said. "We know who killed Susan Wiley."
Trish almost dropped the tray she was carrying to the table. "Millie!"
"I can't believe you just said that," Edna admonished, her eyebrows raised all the way to her hairline. "That's not true."
"Well, it might be," Millie said defensively. "It depends on whether Super Sleuth here really cares about finding out the truth or not." - - - - - -- -- - - -
Larry took the slight dig with his usual charm and patience. "Tell me what you've got, and I'll see what I can do," he said, casually reaching for a cinnamon roll. He looked puzzled and slightly disappointed when he didn't find the icing, but after a moment he chose the butter and spread it liberally over his roll.
Trish felt a pang of remorse which lasted only a second. It was time for new memories. She ignored the strange look Millie gave her and, purely out of stubbornness, reached for the sour cream.
"You need to investigate Mary Chavez" Millie reached for her own cinnamon roll but declined both the butter and the sour cream.
That was a good decision, Trish thought, trying to swallow her own roll without grimacing.
"And why is that?" Larry asked, wiping his hands on a napkin. He didn't reach for another.
Edna quickly filled him in on what they knew about Mary Chavez and carefully explained their concern about the earrings. Thankfully, Millie kept her mouth shut about Tom, even though her lips twitched several times as though she desperately wanted to interrupt.
When Edna finished speaking, Larry deliberately let his glance fall on each of them. "I thought we agreed you would pass any information on to me and stay out of any actual snooping."
"How would we know whether we had any information to pass on if we hadn't checked Mary out first?" Millie exclaimed indignantly.
"What you have is nothing," Larry replied, his tone revealing exasperation. "You have nothing to tie this Mary Chavez to Susan's death, and just because she has earrings similar to ones owned by the late Mrs. Wiley doesn't mean she killed her!"
"But you didn't hear her," Millie said, her eyes narrowing as she leaned forward. "She said we would never believe what she had to go through to get those earrings. And her voice was sly and sneaky when she said it."
"Oh, Millie, stop it," Trish demanded. "You're exaggerating something awful. Her voice was friendly, as if she was sharing an inside joke. We were all just shocked at the sight of the earrings and probably read more into her statement than we should have"
"Humph," Millie snorted, crossed her arms over her chest and sat back in her chair while she glared at Trish, "whose side are you on, anyway?"
Trish glared right back. "I'm on the side of the truth, and we're not going to get to it if you keep embellishing."
Larry raised his hand. "Ladies, please," he said with a deep sigh. "Look, you know I understand your concern. But I've told you before how dangerous this can be. This isn't a game. If you really believe a murderer is on the loose, why would you intentionally put yourselves in a risky situation?"
"Because a friend of ours has been charged with murder and we know he's innocent," Edna said softly.
"You think he'll check out Mary?" Millie asked around a mouthful of cinnamon roll. The icing had come out as soon as Larry had left, and they were just finishing off the plate.
Trish shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he'll casually look into her, but I doubt he thinks there's anything to our suspicion."
"We have to get something more concrete," Edna sighed. "Does anybody have any ideas?"
"Well, it's a sure bet we can't go back to the restaurant," Millie said. She thought for a moment, tapping her fingers on the table. "Edna, you got a real good look at those earrings when Sam gave them to Susan, didn't you?"
"Yes, I certainly did." She smiled sorrowfully. "Susan was so proud of them. She showed them to me that very afternoon."
"Okay, then you're the one who is going to have to verify if Mary has Susan
's earrings or if they are just similar. I don't like it, and I'm not sure you can pull it off, but we don't have a choice."
Edna's jaw dropped.
"And just how is she going to do that?" Trish asked with raised eyebrows.
"She'll do it by going to her house."
"Oh, of course. How silly of me to have even asked"
Millie just sat there with a pleased smile, and Trish didn't like that twinkle shining in her eyes one bit, and she really wished Edna would close her mouth.
"Do you think she's there yet?" Millie asked, unwrapping her hotdog.
"I don't know," Trish said nervously and glanced at her watch. "She probably is." They were sitting at a concrete picnic table outside the neighborhood corner store. It was a place that construction workers often sat to eat their lunches, but Millie and Trish were alone right now. Edna had dropped them off a few minutes before and should now be at Mary's house.
Trish was not comfortable with this at all. "How can you eat at a time like this?" she asked irritably.
Millie shrugged and took a huge bite. "I'm hungry. Besides, if anything goes wrong, I'll need the energy"
"No you won't, because if anything goes wrong I'm going to skin you alive."
Millie shrugged again. "Nothing is going to go wrong. It's a foolproof plan."
Trish took a deep breath, leaned over, and snatched a potato chip from the open bag in front of Millie. She didn't have the heart to bring up the subject of Murphy's Law.
Edna straightened her shoulders and steadied her nerves. How Millie had talked her into this, she would never understand. She rang the doorbell, plastered a smile on her face, and reminded herself that she was doing this for Sam. That seemed to help-some.
Mary lived in a house that could use a little tender loving care. The front door was in need of a fresh coat of paint along with the iron columns spaced along the wide front porch where a couple of potted plants cried out for water, their wilting leaves falling to the ground. To the left of the door, a large window faced the street, curtains drawn, the screen torn at the bottom. Everything was neat enough, and the house was really quite charming, but the minor repairs left undone gave the feeling that neglect was a common thing there.
Maybe Mary and her husband were renters, in which case the repairs were not their responsibility. Or, more likely, if they had fallen on tough times, then a lack of funds could delay the work from being done. But, really, how much did a gallon of paint cost, anyway?
Edna transferred the bag she was carrying to her other hand and reached up to ring the bell again. At that moment, she heard a chain sliding and the front door opened. Edna only jumped slightly, then quickly fixed her smile in place.
Mary stood in the doorway, an impatient look on her face. "Yes?"
"Hello," Edna said, in what she hoped was a chipper, friendly tone. "My name is Ed .... um, Edwina Granger. I'm your new Avon representative in the neighborhood." Mary's hair was pulled back into a pony tail again, and unfortunately she wasn't wearing any jewelry.
Mary shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm late-"
"Oh, please," Edna said quickly, placing her hand on the door, "I promise this will only take a minute. You see, I'm new at this and I'm afraid I haven't been very successful. At my age, it's difficult. Who wants to buy miracle wrinkle cream from someone who's all wrinkly? Actually, I've just started using the products, and I believe I'll look ten years younger in a month or so. But my husband left me for a younger woman, and I desperately need this job. I really want to practice my presentation, and I guarantee you it won't take long. You don't even have to buy a thing. Please?" Edna stopped and took a deep breath, having just delivered the fastest speech in her life. Hopefully it had sounded pitiful enough. Just in case, she offered a weak little smile.
It must have worked. Mary sighed, but she was grinning as she opened the door wider. "How can I refuse? Come on in, but I must warn you that I only have a few minutes."
"Thank you," Edna gushed. Thank goodness Millie's daughter had actually sold Avon a little over a year before and had been able to furnish enough samples, as well as a genuine sales bag, to make Edna's story appear true. The only problem was the catalog. There hadn't been enough time to get an up-to-date one, so they'd had to settle for an old one. If Mary happened to notice, then Edna's newness on the job would provide a believable blunder.
Mary gestured to an easy chair. "Have a seat" She sat opposite Edna on the sofa. "I haven't used Avon in a while, but I do like their products. I won't be able to buy anything, but you can run your presentation by me and then leave me your number so I can order later if I want to."
"This is very kind of you. I'm not much of a salesperson, even though the products basically sell themselves, so I appreciate your giving me the opportunity to practice." Edna pulled out some of the samples, arranging them on the oval coffee table. "You have a lovely home" Lovely wasn't quite an apt description. Although clean, the furnishings were almost threadbare, and the walls were a yellowing color of off-white. The tan carpet would soon need to be replaced, along with the curtains, but the most disconcerting thing was the lack of personality in the room. No pictures, knickknacks or plants broke the austerity in the surroundings.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, I'd offer you coffee or tea, but I honestly don't have much time. I'll be late for work."
"Don't give it another thought, dear. What do you do for a living?"
"Well, right now I work as a waitress, but I've got applications out for office work."
"Wait .. " Edna stopped fumbling in the bag and looked up with feigned surprise. "That's where I've seen you before. You work at Jim's Restaurants, don't you?"
Mary cocked her head. "Yes, I do. Do I know you?"
"No, but you served me and a couple of friends recently. We were very impressed with your service," Edna said truthfully. "It takes a special talent to do what you do, coordination, patience, putting on a smile when you'd rather slap somebody. I certainly couldn't do it."
Surprisingly, Mary blushed slightly. "Thank you. It's not hard, really. I'm just doing it until I can find something better."
"So, you like office work?" Edna had emptied the bag of samples some time ago, but she was managing to make herself look busy. It was important to keep Mary talking, and there wasn't a lot of time.
"I love it. I lost my last job because the accountant was convicted of embezzling. I was the one who discovered the problem and told my boss, but it was too late. The losses were so great that the company couldn't stay afloat. Of course, I got a glowing recommendation, I had been there for fifteen years, but it's not easy finding another position at the same rank and rate of pay I was at"
Edna shook her head sympathetically. It was a true sentiment, actually; she felt the poor woman was delusional. If, in her mind, her skills were as great as she thought they were, it would be very difficult for anybody to teach her anything or give constructive criticism. There was also the possibility that Mary Chavez was a pathological liar.
Mary glanced at her watch. Uhh, thought Edna, I'd better hurry this along. "You know, Mary, there's another reason I remember you. In our latest catalog, there is a necklace and bracelet set that I think matches those gorgeous earrings you were wearing when I met you. I believe my friends and I even commented on them that night. I know you said you weren't interested in buying anything right now, but I absolutely adore jewelry. I was thinking of buying the necklace if I could find earrings to match. Where did you get yours?"
Mary frowned and reached for her bare ear lobe. "Oh, I know which ones you're talking about," she said, her expression clearing. "I didn't buy them. They were a gift well, a payment, sort of. I did some work for a guy who promised to pay me, but when I finished he said he didn't have any money. I threatened him, and he gave me the earrings to shut me up." A shiver ran up Edna's spine at the cold look on Mary's face. She was smiling, but there was no humor in her expression at all. "I'm going to sell them eventually, probably for more than he owed me"
It was all Edna could do to act natural and continue speaking. "Good for you. Would you mind terribly if I look at them again? I might be in the market to buy them when you're ready to sell."
Mary hesitated. "Well ... sure. In fact, I think I'll wear them today. It reminds me of the jerk and how I'm going to get even with him someday," she confessed with a grin. "I'll go get them, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to get going. Maybe you could come back some other time."
"Oh, of course-I'm sorry I've kept you so long. I'll start picking up this stuff." Mary left the room, and Edna quickly cleared the coffee table by sweeping everything into the Avon bag with her arm. She then sat quietly and forced her breathing to remain natural. In a few seconds, she would know whether Susan's missing earrings were in the possession of Mary Chavez. She didn't even want to think about what job Mary had done to have received them as payment. That statement could be analyzed later with her friends.
Mary walked back in the room with her purse slung over one shoulder and her keys in her hand. She held out her other hand to Edna. "Here they are. I'll be right back. I have to lock the back door," she said, dropping the glittering studs into Edna's hand.
Edna felt the room spin around her as she stared at the earrings, the brilliant diamonds twinkling. Her eyes began to burn, and her hands started shaking. She wanted nothing more than to make a mad dash for the door, into the protection of her car, and rush to the police station where she could hand over the earrings. She couldn't leave them with Mary! They didn't belong to her; she had no right to them. Sam had lovingly given them to his wife, the wife who had been murdered for no apparent reason.
Edna felt her heart squeeze tight, the pain and anger ready to lash out as she tried to control her emotions. Common sense eventually prevailed as she realized that leaving with the earrings would destroy all evidence tying them to Mary. She clutched the earrings tightly, said a silent prayer promising Susan the earrings would soon be returned to Sam, and then laid them gently on the coffee table.