Quick, say something. Now.
“This is where you will spend most of your time as a blogger. Remember what I told you about blogging not being glamorous? Well, here’s why.” She gave a little laugh, and the class joined in. Feeling more relaxed, she continued with the lesson.
By the end of the class, there were a lot of glazed eyeballs, but to their credit, each student was still enthusiastic and eager to work on the new assignment—ten ideas and outline the first two posts.
All in all, the session could have turned out worse. At least no one was racing to the door.
She was thankful they kept her mind off Devon. She did a quick check of her phone. Still no update. Not even from Ethan.
He’d been in and out of meetings all day. Then he had a retirement dinner to attend for the police chief in the next town over.
“Well, that was a lot of information to take in.” Shirley stopped at Hope’s table.
Hope looked up from her phone and then set it down.
“I promise, it’s not too bad once you start using your website. Do you have a minute?” Hope had been churning over Devon’s theory that her father had been unfaithful to her mother at the time of the disappearance. Maybe Shirley could shed some light on it.
“I suppose so. What’s up?” Shirley set her purse on the table.
“You were friends with Joyce. Did she ever confide in you that she suspected her husband was having an affair?” Hope asked in a low voice as the last of the students left the room.
“Why are you asking?” Shirley’s thin lips clamped down and her gaze narrowed, signaling to Hope their conversation would not be pleasant.
It wouldn’t be the first unpleasant conversation she’d had. There was the divorce conversation with her ex-husband, the time she had to explain to Detective Reid why she trespassed onto a crime scene, and the chats she had with killers when she got into their crosshairs. So, Shirley’s warning look didn’t have the impact she’d expected it would have on Hope.
“Devon said she believes her father was having an affair.”
“I can’t believe she’d say such a thing! Outrageous! I’m surprised you’d be repeating such nonsense.” When the look didn’t work on Hope, Shirley raised her voice, prompting the last of the students walking out the door to look over their shoulders.
Hope gestured to them that everything was okay and then turned back to Shirley. “Devon doesn’t believe it’s nonsense. If she did, I doubt she’d say it publicly.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it does no one any good to dig up the past. My goodness, Greg’s not here to defend himself. Talk about unfair.”
“Don’t you think what happened to Joyce was unfair?” Hope countered.
“You have a reputation of stirring up hornets’ nests, and I strongly suggest you stay out of the Markhams’ business.” Shirley yanked up her purse and stormed out, passing by Gail, who was reentering the room.
Gail gave Hope a curious look and then pointed to her seat. “I forgot my notebook.”
“She’s right about you having a thing for stirring up hornets’ nests.” Elaine approached the table. “Like you did when my sweet Lionel was murdered. But I know you can’t help yourself.” She tilted her head sideways and smiled. Though the smile didn’t feel sincere to Hope.
“Is Shirley okay?” Gail, with her notebook in hand, joined Hope and Elaine.
“I’m not sure.” Hope grabbed her coat. What she was sure about was that Shirley wasn’t behaving like her usually perky self. She always had a sunny disposition, like her daughter, Amy. It didn’t take an experienced detective like Sam Reid to realize there was something about Joyce’s disappearance that Shirley didn’t want to discuss.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her storm out of anywhere.” Gail shoved her notebook into her tote bag.
“Hope can have that effect on people. Though she means well,” Elaine said.
Hope bristled at being spoken about as if she wasn’t even there. “We should get going.” Her tone was sharp and her patience short.
“Are you feeling a little tired? Ethan says you’re working so much. You know, I have a concealer that will work wonders for your under eyes.” Elaine dug into her purse and pulled out a small tube. “Try this. It’s a lifesaver. Especially these days. There’s so much to do, settling into my new house.”
“New house?” Gail asked.
“I found a rental I love. It has an option to buy. So I’m giving it a test drive, so to speak.” Elaine looked at Hope. “Ethan was so kind as to help me with my alarm system.”
“I’m sure helping you fill out the paperwork to register the system wasn’t too much for him to do.” Hope eyed the concealer. Did she really have dark circles under her eyes?
“Oh, he did way more than that.” Elaine gave a breathy laugh as she handed the tube of concealer to Hope. “He helped me with the system. I got all flustered with how to use it. He showed me how to do it just right. The man is a wonderful teacher. Toodles!” She waved as she sashayed out of the room. That was how Elaine went through life—sashaying and batting her false lashes.
“She’s a piece of work,” Gail observed.
She most certainly is.
When had Ethan gone to Elaine’s house? Why hadn’t he told Hope? It wasn’t like house calls to set up alarms were a part of his job description. She tamped down her irritation with both Ethan and Elaine.
“Anyway, it was a great class. I’m looking forward to brainstorming post ideas,” Gail said before she walked out of the room.
Hope shrugged into her coat after she gathered all her papers into her tote along with her laptop. With all her belongings plus the tube of concealer, she walked to the doorway. Before she left the room, she looked back at where Shirley sat during class.
A niggling feeling reinforced her suspicion that Shirley was hiding something.
* * *
The next morning, Hope’s alarm went off, but all she wanted to do was pull the covers over her head. She reasoned she didn’t have the oomph she needed to get up and head out for her run. Then a little voice in the far recesses of her mind reminded her of all the indulgences she enjoyed over the holiday season. While the holidays were long over, the aftereffects still lingered on her hips. Plus, a ramped-up schedule of recipe-testing had also tilted the scale in the direction she didn’t like.
Adjusting her reflective headband over her ears, she prepared herself for a long, grueling run thanks to a lack of sleep and it being freakin’ cold outside. After she tied her sneakers, she patted Bigelow on the head. He’d stayed curled up on her bed, sleeping. He never seemed to have restless nights.
Passing through the downstairs to the mudroom, she found Princess curled up on a chair in the family room. It was hard to imagine her as the wild child she was a few months ago. She looked so peaceful and angelic. They grew up so fast.
Hope packed her waist belt with her bare necessities and pulled open the back door and was greeted by a slap of cold air. Walking to the road, she turned on her playlist, then picked up her pace.
She’d thought her morning run would snap her out of her sleep-deprived fog. It had. During the three-mile run, she was anything but sleepy thanks to the frigid February air. The best part about running in the winter months was, her speed increased because she was freezing her glutes off. But an hour later, seated across from Jane in The Coffee Clique, her eyelids were heavy, and her yawns were increasing.
Hope tried to fight it, but she was powerless against it. She covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned again.
“Didn’t sleep well, dear?” Jane asked before she broke off a piece of her glazed apple walnut muffin. She’d called Hope midway through her run and suggested they meet at the coffee shop.
The idea had perked Hope up. A hazelnut coffee would be the perfect reward for finishing her workout. Without hesitation, Hope said she’d be there. With a prize at the end of her run, she had dug deep into her reserves to p
ower through and arrived at The Coffee Clique right after Jane had.
Hope suppressed another yawn as she nodded. Too bad The Coffee Clique didn’t have a megasize coffee cup. The large she ordered just wasn’t doing it for her. She needed another one. Or two.
“I kept tossing and turning all night.” Between worrying about Devon, being annoyed by Elaine barging into her class, Ethan’s secret visit to the widow’s house, and dreading having to talk to Iva about the missing bracelet, Hope’s mind had raced a mile a minute once she’d lain her head down on the pillow.
Her bed was normally her sanctuary. While she saved money where she could in her house remodel, she splurged on her bedding. She indulged in cloud-soft pillows and luxurious linens, including a down comforter that had an eye-popping price tag. She spent long hours every day on her feet, either recipe testing or working on some DIY project around the old farmhouse, and when it came time to sleep, she wanted to be cocooned in comfort.
Too bad her sleep cycle didn’t get the memo that she was supposed to be relaxing and dreaming about kittens overnight, not fretting about everything that happened the day before.
“Still no word about Devon?” Jane wiped her mouth with a napkin and then set it down on the table. She wore a lavender-colored scarf tied around her neck and a matching hat. Her red wool jacket was draped over the back of her chair.
“No. Ethan texted me after he got back from the retirement party. There wasn’t any news.” Hope chugged her coffee. When she received the text, she was tempted to ask about Elaine’s alarm system, but she resisted. The conversation should happen face-to-face. She kept her thoughts from spiraling out of control because she knew the kind of man he was. They’d known each other since high school. Ethan was a straight-up guy who didn’t cheat on his significant other or his taxes. But she’d been married to a man who did, and the experience had left her wary.
“It feels like her mother all over again. One day she’s there and the next she’s not.”
Those haunting words had Hope’s thoughts shift from Ethan back to Devon. She knew her relationship with him was solid. Nothing to worry about. But Devon? There was a lot to worry about there.
“I’m glad you called because I wanted to ask about Shirley. You’ve known her for a long time, haven’t you?”
“I have. Though we aren’t close friends. Amy was in one of my reading groups at the library. Shirley would stop and chat when she picked Amy up.” Jane sipped her tea. Yes, she was more refined than Hope was.
“Why are you asking?” Jane asked.
“Last night she got all weird when I asked her about Devon’s claim that her dad was having an affair. She made it clear no one, not even Devon, should dig up the past.” Hope went back to drinking her coffee like a normal person. Setting down the cup, she caught a glimpse of the pastries.
“Well, I doubt Shirley would have been eager to talk about something so private even if Devon was shouting it all over the internet with her podcast.” Jane’s blue eyes, generally filled with curiosity and warmth, turned serious and changed the whole demeanor of her rounded face. “It’s not in Shirley’s nature to discuss such matters.”
“I understand, but you’d think if she and Joyce were such good friends, she’d want to find out what happened. Wouldn’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you what?” Drew approached the table holding a tall coffee cup and a plated bagel smeared with cream cheese. His messenger bag was slung crossbody over his navy jacket. He set his breakfast on the table and removed his bag, then sat.
“We’re talking about Shirley’s lack of interest in finding out what happened to Joyce.” Jane finished the last piece of her muffin.
“How could she not be interested? Weren’t they like best friends back in the day?” Drew bit into half of his bagel with a vengeance. Hope guessed he’d hit the gym already and worked up an appetite.
“Believe me when I tell you, she was adamant last night that what happened in the past should stay in the past.” Hope lifted her cup and leaned back. “If it were me and one of you disappeared, I’d want to know what happened.”
“Thank you, dear. I appreciate knowing you’d move heaven and earth to solve my disappearance.” Jane finished her tea.
“Yeah, right back at you, Hope. On a different matter, have you heard Elaine’s back in town?” Drew asked between bites.
Hope nodded. “I saw her the other day at the police department and last night at the library. She’s auditing my class.”
Drew gave her a confused look. “Really, for an adult education class? Does she even know what the word means?”
Jane laughed. “Don’t be too harsh on her. She lost her husband a few months ago, and her life was turned upside down.”
“It feels like wherever she goes, things get turned upside down. She wants me to give her a private lesson so she can catch up with the other students.” Hope took a breath. She didn’t want to talk about Elaine anymore. Except with Ethan. Definitely with Ethan.
“Moving on. Have you heard about Maretta’s bright idea?” Drew asked with a touch of sarcasm after he took a drink of his coffee.
Hope and Jane glanced at each other and then shook their heads in unison. Jane’s wispy bangs fluttered.
“In her infinite wisdom, she’s decided to move forward with her proposal to ban snowball throwing. And the police paid Billy Murphy’s parents a visit.”
“Absurd. Children love snowball fights,” Jane said.
“I can’t believe the police spoke to his parents. He and his friends weren’t being malicious. I was there.” They didn’t need a visit from the police, just a reminder not to throw snowballs at people who weren’t playing along. Hope pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and checked her messages. None from Ethan or Claire or Reid. And where the heck was Devon?
“Can she really ban throwing snowballs?” Jane asked.
“She has to go through the Town Council. They’ll do just about anything not to have to deal with her. I have a feeling her mayoral term is going to feel like forever for all of us.” Drew took another bite of his bagel.
“My thought exactly on election day.” Hope drained the last of her coffee and seriously considered a refill. She had a feeling she’d be testing how much caffeine she could ingest before becoming too jittery.
“The one good thing about Maretta being the mayor is that the Town Council meetings are now a lot more interesting. The last one had—” Drew was cut off by the chime of his cell phone. He retrieved it from his messenger bag and read the screen. “Oh. My. Gosh.”
“What? What is it?” Hope leaned forward.
“They found Devon’s car in a ditch off Hargate Hill Road.” Drew didn’t look up; he kept reading.
“Who says?” Jane asked.
Drew finally looked up. “My source.”
“Who’s your source?” Hope asked.
Drew returned his phone to his bag. “Does it matter? The police are on scene. I gotta go.” He stood, slung his bag across his body, and gathered up what was left of his breakfast.
“I’m going with you. I’ll call you later, Jane.” Hope rose to her feet, grabbed her coffee cup, and ditched it in the trash can as she followed Drew to the exit.
“You understand I’ll be gathering info, so you’ll be on your own while we’re at the scene.” Drew held the door open for Hope.
“Got it.”
They walked to Drew’s sports car. It wasn’t the most practical vehicle for winter months in Connecticut, but it sure was sleek, and the way it drove made her swoon. And that’s why she drove an SUV.
“Did your source say anything about Devon?” Hope snapped the seat belt buckle into place.
Drew glanced at his side mirror and then pulled his car out of the parking space and headed north on Main Street. “No.”
“Where on Hargate Hill did they find the car?”
“Past Swamp Hollow.”
Hope winced. She knew the spot well. It was an isolated stretch of ro
ad with a sharp curve. Beautiful in three seasons of the year and treacherous in the winter.
Several turns and ten minutes later, they were on Hargate Hill Road. She glanced at Drew. He’d drawn silent. She sensed he was keeping something from her. Something his source had shared with him, but he didn’t want to share with her.
The stillness of the cold air blanketed the hilly landscape as the morning sun struggled to break through the thick patch of clouds above, ice glazed over the jagged edges of the rocky wall they drove by, and snow weighed down the limbs of the bare trees. They were getting closer to Swamp Hollow Road when the tires of Drew’s car did a little hula dance. Instinctively, Hope’s hands reached out for the dashboard and pressed hard as she looked to Drew.
“Just a little slip. Nothing to worry about.” He pulled the steering wheel back and regained control. “Up ahead.”
Hope nodded. The crime scene was coming into view. Among the various rescue vehicles was Hank Padgett’s tow truck.
“Hank’s your source, isn’t he?”
“Maybe.” Drew parked his car on a small patch of packed-down snow. The spot also made sure his vehicle wouldn’t be in the way. “I can leave the car running so you’ll stay warm.” His finger hovered over the Start button.
“You really think I’m going to stay in here?” She opened the door and stepped out. The frigid air gave her pause to reconsider Drew’s offer.
“You’re not dressed for the elements or terrain in your running shoes. Be careful! We don’t need another rescue!” Drew closed the door and walked toward the scene. His stride was fast and confident. He was in his glory. Being first on the scene, getting an exclusive, doing what he loved. She’d asked him countless times why he chose to stay at the Gazette when he had the talent and skill for a larger publication. He always said the same thing: he loved Jefferson and didn’t want to live anywhere else.
The one big downside to living and reporting in a small town was, eventually the big news of the day would be about a friend, neighbor, or relative.
The Corpse Who Knew Too Much Page 10