Hope waved away Drew’s exaggeration and proceeded to the front door of Claire’s four-thousand-square-foot house. “She’s not a hermit.”
Drew lifted an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Hope led the way to the double front doors of the oversize house. Hope had thought her sister was crazy when she purchased the huge home, but she saw the appeal. A classic facade of brick and tan siding, the solid house stood on a hill with expansive views of neighboring horse farms and the gentle, rolling hills their section of the state was known for. So what if you needed a map to find your way through the massive structure?
She dug into her purse for the spare key Claire had given her years before and let herself and Drew inside. They stepped into a two-story foyer, gutted by Claire, that boasted a striking black-and-white tile floor and a chandelier that reflected fragments of light from the late-afternoon sun streaming in the tall casement window above the entry. If you stood at the right angle at the right time, it was like staring at a kaleidoscope.
“Claire!” Hope called out and stepped farther into the house, with Drew behind her.
She dropped her purse on the stone-veneered table positioned in the center of the room. The sweetness of the lily arrangement on the table brought a smile to Hope’s face. She loved flowers. Too bad there wasn’t enough time in the day to devote to her garden.
“Coming!” Claire’s voice didn’t drift from the other room. Rather, she full-on shouted at Hope.
Drew grimaced. “What’s with the tone?”
Hope shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Claire appeared from the living room, and Hope’s mouth gaped open. The woman standing in front of her wasn’t her sister.
Couldn’t be.
The imposter wore elastic-waist, bubblegum-pink shorts with a sloppy, half-tucked graphic T-shirt. Her normally coiffed hair was pulled into a messy topknot and on her feet were orange clogs.
“Clogs?” Drew whispered over Hope’s shoulder.
“Clogs.” Hope stared at the unusual footwear choice. What happened to Claire’s designer sandals that showed off her pedicure?
“What on earth are you wearing?” Hope closed the gap between them. She’d never seen her sister look so unkempt. Even after the birth of her two children, Claire had on a full face of makeup for photographs and refused to wear anything hospital issue. Yeah, she was one of those patients. To see Claire messy and discombobulated sent Hope into protective sister mode. She had to do something.
Now.
Claire looked at herself and shrugged. “I was outside in the garden.”
“You hate gardening,” Drew said.
Claire looked up and cocked her head sideways. “What else is there for me to do now?”
Hope and Drew exchanged a worried look.
“Intervention,” Drew mouthed silently.
Hope pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Honey, we need to get you ready. Tonight’s the Scavenger Hunt, remember?”
Claire’s shoulders sagged. “I’m really not in the mood to go out today.” She swiveled and walked back into the living room.
Drew scooted up to Hope. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen her like this before.”
“Clogs. She’s wearing clogs and shorts with an elastic waistband. We have to stage an intervention or who knows what’ll be next? Tank tops with I heart something written on it.”
Hope glared at Drew. “Hey, I have tops like that.”
Drew gave her a need-I-say-more look.
“Never mind.” Hope broke away and followed her sister into the living room. With its coffered ceiling, custom wallpaper, and marble fireplace, the room was a showpiece. Claire had spent over a year decorating the house and continued to tweak the décor on a regular basis to keep it from becoming stale.
Claire slumped into a plush armchair. “You two go on without me.”
“We’re not going without you. Right, Drew?” Hope glanced over her shoulder.
He hadn’t followed her. He remained in the foyer.
“Drew!”
He plodded into the living room. “What she says. But you can’t go dressed like that.” He extended his forefinger and waved it up and down at Claire.
“Not helping.” Hope looked back at her sister. “We need four people on a team. Without you, we only have three.”
“Find someone else.” Claire’s voice was monotone and barely audible.
“No, we can’t. You signed up for this hunt and you always keep your word. You’re not going to let us down, are you?” Hope appealed to Claire’s sense of responsibility. She always kept her promises. Always.
Claire stared at Hope for a long moment. “What difference does it make? It’s a stupid scavenger hunt.”
“You love the hunt,” Drew exclaimed. “You love beating the pants off the other teams, just like your sister. But you? I’m not gonna lie; sometimes you scare me with how into it you get.”
Claire leveled an empty gaze on Drew. “I’m not beating the pants off anybody these days.”
“All right. This has to stop.” Hope marched to her sister and squatted to be at eye level with her. “You lost the election, but that doesn’t mean you’re a loser.”
“Do you need a dictionary? Losing the election makes me a loser.”
Hope counted to ten mentally. Her sister was trying her patience. “You worked hard and you gave it your best, but—”
“But I lost! To Maretta Kingston, of all people. Why did she have to run for mayor? Why? Tell me why?”
Hope channeled her inner cheerleader one more time. “We don’t know why she ran for mayor and now it doesn’t matter. You can’t let this loss define who you are. You need to get back to living your life and to your career.”
“My career? I can’t go back to the real estate office. I can’t work for the Kingstons anymore. Not with Maretta popping into the office all the time. She’s right down the street in Town Hall.” A deep sigh escaped Claire’s bare lips. She hadn’t even put on gloss for an added pop of shine.
“You plan to avoid Maretta for the next two years? It’ll be hard to do, because Jefferson isn’t a big town.” Drew drifted over to the sofa opposite Claire and dropped onto a cushion.
“It’s an option.” Claire gave a half shrug.
Hope glanced upward, looking for some divine inspiration. She was running out of patience. She’d listened, given Claire a shoulder to cry on, and served up homemade strawberry ice cream with sprinkles, and yet her sister remained in a funk.
Maybe it was time to try a new tactic.
“No, it’s not! You need to stop this pity party.” Hope straightened up and propped her hands on her hips.
The one tactic she hadn’t tried was going old-school mom on Claire. As kids, they’d called their mom’s reality checks “going nuclear.” Their mother empathized, coddled, and soothed only up to a point, and then she went “nuclear” when her daughters seemed to wallow too long.
“You think I’m having a pity party?” Claire’s voice raised as her face reddened.
“I know you’re having a pity party.” As the words came out of Hope’s mouth, she could hear her mother. After she’d received the divorce papers, Hope had fallen into her own funk, and it was her mother who’d snapped her out of it with those exact words.
“Pity party for one.” Drew raised his forefinger in the air, earning him a stern look from Hope.
Hope turned back to her sister. “You can’t spend the next two years feeling sorry for yourself. You lost the election. Suck it up.”
“That’s your advice?” Claire folded her arms over her chest and frowned.
“Yes. Yes, it is. Come on, Claire. What kind of example are you setting for Logan and Hannah? They’re watching how you handle this defeat. Do you want them to see you’re too weak to pull yourself back up after a loss?”
Claire’s mouth gaped open at her sister’s harsh words. “I’m not weak.�
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Hope gave a quick tilt of her head and lifted an eyebrow, questioning her sister’s statement.
“I’m not.” Claire unfolded her arms and dipped her head. She was silent for a moment.
Hope suspected she was having some private inner reflection.
Drew popped up off the sofa and scooted up behind Hope. “Genius.”
Hope nodded in agreement. Using the kids against her sister was a last resort, and she prayed it worked.
“No, it’s not how I want my children to see me.” Claire lifted her gaze. “I want them to be resilient and be able to rise above defeat. You’re right. I need to show them how.” A hesitant smile settled on Claire’s lips.
Hope reached for her sister and brought her up to her feet. She wrapped her arms around Claire and squeezed tight. “That’s my girl. Let’s start now with you coming to the hunt with us.”
Drew wrapped his arms around Hope and Claire for a group hug.
“But first, you need to shower and change into some decent clothes and, for heaven’s sake, burn those shoes.” Drew pulled back and gave one more disapproving glance at Claire’s footwear.
Hope released her sister. “While you get ready, I’ll make us something quick to eat and then we’ll pick up Jane.”
“Sounds good.” Claire’s smile settled, and she looked genuinely happy at the moment. “How about some chicken salad?”
“You got it.” Hope ushered her sister out of the living room and to the staircase. “It’ll be ready by the time you come back downstairs.”
Halfway up the stairs, Claire halted and looked over her shoulder. “Remember, not too much mayo. Oh, and go light on the onion.” With her last instruction, she picked up her pace and dashed up the rest of the stairs.
“She’s back.” Drew slung his arm around Hope’s shoulder. “I don’t think there’s any turning back now. You sure this is what you want?”
Hope inhaled a breath. “I think so. I should, right? Come on. Let’s make dinner.” She patted Drew’s chest and headed for the kitchen. “Give Jane a call and let her know we’ll be there soon with Claire.”
* * *
The Jefferson Community Center was home to a variety of events and activities throughout the year. In late August it was HQ for the Annual Scavenger Hunt. All the volunteers had arrived hours earlier to set up the refreshments and snacks, along with the registration table.
Hope glanced around the hall, which was filled with chatter, laughter, and good-hearted competition. The energy level in the room was contagious and, with Claire beside her, she couldn’t have asked for a better evening.
Teams huddled together to review the hunt list of twenty-five items they needed to collect. The rules were simple. The teams couldn’t collect more than one item at any one location, and they needed to stay together. The first team to collect all the “treasures” in the shortest period of time won.
The first-place and second-place teams won a bevy of prizes donated by local businesses, but what was most prized were the bragging rights of winning. For three years in a row, Hope and Drew’s team had won the hunt. If they won this year, they’d beat Meg Griffin’s record of consecutive wins.
A twinge of pettiness pricked Hope. Her childhood rivalry with Meg continued to play out into adulthood because Meg couldn’t seem to let go of the past. Since she moved back to Jefferson, there had been glimmers of hope for a truce between them, of burying the past for once and for good, but each time they got close, something thwarted the reconciliation. Another proverbial shoe always seemed to drop, propelling them back to their frenemy state.
Drew approached with the hunt list and Jane beside him. The four of them huddled to review the items they needed to collect. A chocolate chip cookie recipe. Hope had those, so Jane made a note on the sheet of paper that they’d stop at Hope’s house. Next was a movie ticket stub. Drew had one from the latest Nicholas Sparks movie. Jane made another note. A magazine subscription card. Claire had dozens of magazines at her house and Jane jotted down the stop at Claire’s house. They decided they had enough to start and would work through the list once they got into Hope’s vehicle. All four of them headed toward the door, passing Meg’s team.
Hope noticed the team was short one. Sally Merrifield and Norrie Jennings were reviewing the hunt list, but Elaine Whitcomb was missing. The rules of the Scavenger Hunt stated a team couldn’t take part without four members. It looked like Meg’s team might have to forfeit. Hope fought hard not to smile.
“Trouble with her team?” Drew nodded in Meg’s direction as he walked with Hope. He’d turned up the volume on his voice just loud enough for Norrie to hear. Her head swung up and she gave him the hairy eyeball, and he grinned.
“Looks like it. Wonder where Elaine is.” Hope led her team out of the Community Center and toward her vehicle. “Actually, we don’t have time to worry about Meg and her team. We have a hunt to win.” Her rallying cry received a round of “yes, we do.”
With all her passengers buckled in, Hope set off to their first stop, her house. Their last stop before arriving at the Avery Bistro was the Merrifield Inn to collect a bank deposit slip, and back into the SUV they went for the drive over to the restaurant.
Hope navigated her vehicle along Main Street and then made a turn on Copper Hill Road and followed along the curvy road until she came to Cobblestone Court, and three more quick turns landed her on the road where the Avery Bistro was located behind a tall, solid, green fence.
Once a farm, the old house was now a contemporary dining establishment offering a seasonal, locally sourced menu. The two-story building, painted green with crisp, white trim, had two additions that created a courtyard complete with a fountain, flagstone paths, and seating for casual gatherings or cocktail parties. Three arched French doors looked out over the courtyard and, from the main drive onto the property, you could see glimpses of the diners.
“Leila and Dorie’s team are already here? Looks like their adding Matt to their team is paying off,” Jane said from the front passenger seat.
Hope saw Leila Manchester’s team posing for a selfie in front of the restaurant’s plaque on the fence. A pump of adrenaline shot through her. They needed to pick up their pace. A newbie like Matt Roydon couldn’t take the win from Hope and her team.
“How’d they get here so fast?” Drew pointed to Leila and Dorie’s team.
“I wonder how much more they need to get.” Claire leaned forward and rested her hand on the back of Hope’s seat. “Do you think they’re ahead of us in collecting items?”
“Don’t know. We have to stay focused. We can’t worry about the other teams. Let’s get the napkin and then pose for a selfie.” Hope pulled into the parking lot.
She parked her vehicle in a space in the front section of the lot. The back section was used for overflow parking. Hope shut off the ignition as Meg’s minivan pulled up alongside Hope’s vehicle. She got a look at the front-seat passenger. Elaine Whitcomb. Darn. She’d shown up.
“Come on! Meg’s team is here now. They can’t beat us!” Drew pushed open his door and jumped out.
Hope grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car, with Jane and Claire following. They all gathered at the back of the vehicle and set off together toward the main entrance. But a familiar-looking Jaguar parked in the rear lot caught Hope’s attention.
Why was it parked all the way back there when there were plenty of spaces in the main lot? The driver’s side door was open. Before she realized it, she’d broken away from her group and was heading toward the lone car.
Voices drifted through the warm night air, and she looked over her shoulder. Meg and Norrie had gotten out of the minivan and were talking loudly. She wondered if there was a leadership coup about to happen on the team. Both women had a hard time playing nice with other people. Meg was headstrong, while Norrie was devious.
She turned her attention back to the Jaguar up ahead and continued forward.
“Hope! Come on!” Drew broke into a
jog toward her. “The napkin, remember? Meg’s team will get inside first. Norrie can’t win!”
Hope nodded. She understood Drew’s concern, but her curiosity was in control now. She navigated around some potholes and deep cracks to reach the rear section of the lot, climbing uphill until she passed the closed kitchen entrance.
“Just a minute.” She reached the car, and the vanity license plate, “Lionel #1,” confirmed the car belonged to Lionel Whitcomb. What was it doing there with the driver’s door open? Where was Lionel? Why had he parked all the way up there? Hope continued around the front of the car and came to a hard stop.
She gasped, and one hand flew up to cover her mouth, while the other stretched out and planted itself on the hood of the car to steady her body.
She’d discovered why she hadn’t seen Lionel.
He was lying on the asphalt with a large red stain spread out on his white shirt, and his beady eyes were wide open but lifeless.
Her stomach clenched and a wave of dizziness threatened to knock her to the ground. She pressed her hand down firmer on the hood of the car and willed herself not to pass out.
“What are you looking at? We’re going to lose.” Drew came up behind Hope. He grabbed her shoulder. “Oh. My. God!”
“What’s going on with you two?” Claire reached Drew and tugged on his arm. “Come on. I thought you wanted to win this year?”
Hope’s mind raced with competing thoughts—she was going to be sick, the police had to be called, and Claire needed to be moved away from the body. The body. A roll of nausea nearly sent Hope heaving.
A bloodcurdling scream, which all of Jefferson had to have heard, jolted Hope. She swung around. It was Claire screaming. She’d discovered what Hope and Drew were looking at. She’d finally seen the body.
Jane came up to the three of them and gasped, grabbing hold of Hope’s arm. “You’ve done it again. You’ve found another body.”
Chapter Four
“Lionel’s dead.” Hope wasn’t sure what made her state the obvious, but she did. Maybe it was because those two words kept repeating in her head as she tried to come to terms with finding his body. Her stomach clenched as she stared in disbelief at the body.
Three Widows and a Corpse Page 4