Mom Zone Mysteries 02 Staying Home Is a Killer (8 page)

“You’d better either be in the money category or the travel category,” I said and refocused on the list. “Okay. After the crew passed us, we talked about the exhibit and she mentioned Clarissa Bedford was in her art appreciation class.” I summarized those two items.

I skipped down a few lines and wrote
AM meeting at the Mansion. Bedford—10:30?
Under that question I listed
11:00—Conversation at the squadron. 12:00—Called Marsali. Around noon—Mabel saw Penny on my porch. 12:34—Called and left a message for me. 1:00—Will finds Penny.
A fresh wave of grief washed over me as I read over the list, a picture of the end of a life.

Mitch glanced at the clock. “Wow. Seven already. I’ve got to read. I’m flying tomorrow with Tommy.”

“Oh, Hetty Sullivan!” I tossed the pen down. “I forgot. I’ve got to meet her at Penny and Will’s house at seven-thirty.”

“Who?” Mitch asked. He pulled a three-inch-thick notebook from his pubs case and sat down at the table.

“She’s working on the exhibit and needs to pick up some drawings and photographs from Penny’s house. I said I’d let her in. I’d better run down there and make sure I can find everything. And that reminds me. Victor Roth never returned my call.” I shifted through the papers in the cubbyholes on my small secretary until I found the note with Hetty’s and Victor’s numbers. I dialed Victor’s number as I walked to the closet. He answered and I explained I was following up on Penny’s messages.

“That issue is taken care of,” he said and hung up.

“Well, you’re welcome,” I said as I stabbed the
OFF
button. “Not even a thank-you!” Victor Roth’s accent sounded a lot less appealing when he snapped at you.

Mitch hadn’t heard me. He hunched over the tiny text titled
Engine Ground Operation.

I pulled on my coat and gloves. “Don’t fall asleep!” I called on my way out the door. If I had to read those monotonous pages of technical data, I’d be out in a few seconds.

Mitch looked up, waggled his eyebrows, and said, “Not without you.”

I clutched the collar of my coat together and scurried down the deserted street. With darkness descending around five-thirty, most people hurried home from work and holed up in their warm houses, a mini-hibernation until dawn and work forced them outside to unplug the extension cord transferring heat to their engine block and scrape the ice off their car windows. Besides the weak streetlights, the only light came from gold squares radiating out from the edges of closed curtains. There was no wind tonight, and my steps crunching through snowmelt crystals seemed to echo in the still street.

I turned where I estimated the Follettes’ narrow sidewalk would be and sank into the snow. Will hadn’t shoveled snow for a while. In the darkness on the porch, I fumbled with the keys and tried several times before I got the right one in the lock. I needed to leave the porch light on when I left.

After I clicked on a table lamp, I locked the front door and swished the curtains closed. I stood in the living room, shivering, reluctant to go into the rest of the house. The living room opened to the dining room and kitchen behind it. To the right of the dining room, a tiny hall connected two bedrooms with a bathroom between them. The house was cold and I wondered if Will had turned the thermostat down too low before he left. It was probably in the narrow hall. I took a tentative step.

A wheeze rattled through the house. I jumped as the floor vent jangled and the furnace heaved out a spurt of warm air. I paused to click on the dining room light, then worked my way around the house with floorboards screeching under my feet, turning on the rest of the lights. The bare white walls and stark lighting put an end to my uneasy feeling. In the hall, I cranked the red line on the thermostat from sixty-two degrees up to seventy-five.

I reached into the bath to turn off the light. There was no need to leave it on. I’d flicked it on during my quick circuit of the house when I turned all the lights. Now I stopped. This was where Penny was found.

My wet boots squished on the small one-inch pink tiles that covered the floor and lower two-thirds of the walls. I took in the white muslin curtain at the window and the sink with exposed leg supports. Then I sucked in a gulp of air as I looked past the clear plastic shower curtain into the pink bathtub and saw a dark red, almost brown, color in the tub. I pushed the curtain back. My stomach seemed to clench and roll at the same time. I let out a breath. It was rust. A line of it trailed from the overflow cover down to the drain.

I glanced in the bedroom and then turned the light off in there, too. A mattress and box spring covered with a mustard blanket pushed up against a wall. A pressboard nightstand and dresser crowded the room.

I turned to the second bedroom that Will had described as their study. A computer and portable CD player sat on a pressboard desk combo that dominated most of the room. A sleek swivel office chair with rollers rested on a grid of plastic over a Turkish rug. In contrast to the rest of the house, which had all the charm of a storage unit, the study felt lived in. Stacks of books covered the desk and teetered in a pile beside a soft brown leather chair. A battered floor lamp angled over the shoulder of the chair. I examined the books and magazines. Flight manuals in black binders intermingled with books on archaeology, a catalogue from Harris Museum, a book about hand-woven rugs, and
American Archaeology
magazines.

A yellow sticky note on the monitor read
Call Oscar
. Marsali? My gaze swept over the rest of the room. The far wall dominated the room. Three rows of shelves held a variety of dolls dressed in brilliant colors. They were displayed with the same precision that Penny would have used in a museum display. Evenly spaced, a card in front of each doll noted names and either purchase dates or who had given the doll to Penny. Their bright clothes gave the room a cheerful air, but their sparkling, fixed eyes and perfectly arranged shiny hair seemed a little creepy in the empty house.

The doorbell rang and I went to let Hetty inside. She stamped her high-heeled boots on the Astroturf mat and stepped inside. “Hetty Sullivan,” she said as she gave me a firm, quick handshake. She had a long nose and thin lips bright with red lipstick that matched her nail polish.

“Ellie Avery.” I shut the door.

“It’s freezing out there. Thanks for doing this.” She tossed her purse down by the door and ran her fingers through the dark cap of hair threaded with gray and said, “I don’t want to take up any more of your time, so show me where everything is and I’ll take care of it.” She quickly scanned the room.

“Will said they were in the study, back here.” I led the way. “But I haven’t found anything yet.” I found myself walking and talking quickly. She had an air of busy efficiency and competence.

She did another quick visual survey. When she didn’t spot the photos right away, Hetty’s forehead wrinkled. “They shouldn’t be that hard to find.” She stooped and began burrowing through a box beside the desk.

“Maybe the closet.” I opened that door. “Oh. I bet this is it.” I saw a box with bundles encased in bubble wrap. At the same moment I spoke, I felt a sick sensation sweep over me as I had so many times in the last few days when I realized Penny was dead. Stacks of baby toys crowded the rest of the closet. Bright boxes reached up to almost touch a row of baby clothes on miniature hangers. Clothes in pastel pink, blue, yellow, and green hung down from the rod. I touched the toe of a small, footed sleeper. I’d been shopping with Penny when she found the sleeper on sale. She bought it, saying, “I’ll save it. I know we’ll have a baby someday.”

I jerked the box out of the closet and closed the door quickly to shelter Penny’s dreams from Hetty’s gaze.

Chapter Nine

L
ivvy angled her body sideways, stretching to the right as she tried to grab a pack of gum. “No,” I said firmly and pulled her back upright. “No reaching.” I checked the shopping cart’s seat belt to make sure it was still fastened and looked around for something to distract Livvy while the woman in front of me tried a different credit card. Livvy was bored with the strap of my Kate Spade satchel. Pink Girl, Livvy’s toy that I could maneuver into amazing jumps, rolls, and leaps, was waiting in the Cherokee. The plastic bins in the cart were too big for Livvy to hold, so I settled for tapping the shopping cart handle with my fingers and letting her chase them back and forth.

“Excuse me.” A man in a green flight suit squeezed past me. I glanced up at the sign over the cash register.
MILITARY PERSONNEL HAVE PRIORITY
11:30
TO
13:30. Great. I’d managed to pick the slowest line and the one where people could legally cut in front of me. I checked my watch as my fingers danced and Livvy giggled. Eleven-thirty. I still had fifteen minutes to make it to Clarissa’s house.

Apparently my run-in with the police hadn’t put her off. She’d called me and said, “Pick up whatever you think will work for storage containers and add it to my bill. I really don’t care what you use. How about Monday afternoon? Around twelve.”

I’d replied I’d need a partial payment and could be there three hours on Monday and finish up Wednesday.

“Fine. I just want to get it done.”

The man in front of me leaned on the checkout counter. “Can’t you ring this up for me?” He dropped a can of shaving cream, razors, and a package of gum on the counter. Then he pulled a ten from a thick folded stack held together with a monogrammed money clip. He held out the money.

“No, sir. I’m sorry. I have to finish this first,” the checker said as the woman in front of her pulled another sliver of plastic out of her wallet.

The man slapped the ten against the counter, checked the time on the diamond-studded face of his Rolex, and turned to survey the other checkout lines.

“Rory,” I said. “I didn’t realize that was you.”

He turned to me, eyes behind his round glasses puzzled as he tried to place me. I stuck out my hand. “I’m Ellie Avery, Mitch’s wife.”

He nodded and gave my hand a quick clasp as he mentally measured the other lines. They were more backed-up than ours. I’d never spoken more than a few words to Rory, mostly “Hi” and “Bye” if I walked past him in the squad or saw him during a squadron function, but here he was captive and right in front of me. I had to ask about Penny and her reaction when she saw the crew on Monday. Livvy pounced on my fingers and giggled. Rory threw another angry glance at the cashier and then leaned his broad shoulders again the partial wall separating the checkouts. He looked a little mismatched with his barrel chest and his owlish glasses, like he was part bodybuilder and part scholar. He crossed his arms. “You’d think they could call a few more people to the front.”

Yeah, and you’d think you could wait your turn
. I wondered what his hurry was. Mitch said the Safety Office where Rory worked played more solitaire than the rest of the squadron combined.

I murmured a noncommittal sound. “I saw you last Monday after you landed. I was talking to Penny in the hall when you came in from a flight.” His gaze stopped roaming the store and focused on me. “She seemed upset about something. Something about a flight you were on?” That last bit of information had come from Will, but Rory didn’t need to know that.

“From what Willy said, she was always upset about something.” I’d let my hands fall motionless on the handle, and Livvy was straining toward the tabloids this time. I hauled her back in and tried to collect my thoughts as I tapped a speedy rhythm with my fingers. The woman in front of us finally signed her receipt and took her bag. Rory tossed his money on the counter and grabbed his plastic bag.

“So you don’t know why she was so upset when she saw your crew?”

“I hardly knew her.” Rory jerked the dollar bills out of the cashier’s hand and strode away through the congestion of baskets.

After I checked out, I pushed the basket loaded with Livvy and my bags to the parking lot. I paused at the curb. Rory didn’t want to talk about his flight or Penny. Maybe he was naturally reticent. I opened the hatchback door on the Cherokee and set plastic bins in the back. Wouldn’t it have been more natural for Rory to shrug off Penny’s attitude or simply deny anything was wrong?

I lifted Livvy out of the basket, stacked her on my hip, and reached up to close the hatch. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the basket slowly roll away toward a black SUV across the aisle. I turned to run after it, but a lean man in blues took a few quick steps and caught it.

“Thanks,” I said and shoved the hatchback door down to close it. “Here, I’ll take it.” I walked over. “I’ll put it away.”

“Don’t you worry about it. I’ve got it. You’ve got your hands full there.” A hooked nose dominated the man’s craggy face, and a fringe of silver hair edged the rim of his hat. Unlike his bumpy face, his voice was fluid and resonate. It was trained. I noticed the star on his hat. “You’re General Bedford.”

I hitched Livvy up higher on my hip and introduced myself. I figured this would probably be my only chance to talk to him. After all, I didn’t usually run into the wing commander, but I guess everyone has to make a trip to the BX sometime. “You talked to Penny Follette the day she died.”

His face registered surprise, then settled into a serious expression as I continued, “She was a friend of mine. Could you tell me what you talked about? She told me she interviewed you.”

He hesitated, so I pressed, “I just wondered…It was so sudden…”

“Well, sure.” He squinted across the distance. Like a hawk perched high above a field, Bedford seemed to survey his territory, his gaze darting back and forth, looking for a scuttling mouse. I hoped no one crossing the parking lot had forgotten to put on their hat. I didn’t think Bedford’s reaction to seeing someone out of uniform would be pretty. “It was for her article. I’m a military brat. She wanted to know about my memories of my dad’s years here at Greenly.”

“Was she upset? Anxious?”

“No. Focused. She wanted quotes for that article. Now, I can tell, you’re blaming yourself for her death. Don’t go there. You’ve got enough on your plate.” He patted Livvy on the head. “You don’t need to add guilt to it.” His smooth voice rolled on and I couldn’t get a word in. “Just take care of your little one there and don’t dwell on Penny.” I thought he wanted to pat me on the head, too, but he seemed to think better of it. He settled for giving my shoulder a quick tap. “You take care now.”