Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries) (24 page)

BOOK: Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries)
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“Sometimes that’s
half the fun,” I answered.

“I can’t imagine
that ever being true,” Momma replied, but she did as I’d directed, and we were
soon standing on Greta Miles’ front porch.

The only problem
was that my mind was a complete blank.

We really were
going to fly by the seats of our pants.

I just hoped that
we were up to it.

 

“What are you two
doing here?” Greta asked when she answered her front door.
 
She lived in a small cottage on the
outskirts of town, and the single-story home was run down, in bad need of a
coat of paint and a good lawn mowing.
 
Even Greta herself was rather unkempt, wearing a dressing gown and some
kind of towel contraption on her head.

“We’ve had warmer
welcomes in our lives,” I said.
 
“We’d like a second to chat, if you don’t mind.”

Greta glanced
back inside, and then she stepped out to join us on the ragged front
porch.
 
“I have a moment, but my
show is coming back on soon, and I can’t miss it.”

“What are you
watching?” I asked, trying to engage her a little before we started grilling
her.

“Nothing all that
special,” she replied.

So much for breaking
the ice.

“Can you tell us
more about how exactly you found my aunt?” I asked her.

She shivered a
little at the mention of my late aunt.
 
“To be honest with you, I’ve been trying to put it out of my mind.
 
Do I really have to go through that
again?
 
The chief made me do it, but
I don’t see why on earth you would want to hear about it from me.”

I was at a loss
for an explanation myself, but fortunately, Momma was with me.
 
“I know that it had to have been
traumatic for you, but remember, I just lost my sister.
 
It might give me a little peace if you
could describe what you found to us.
 
Could you do that as a personal favor to me, please?”

Greta frowned,
and finally she spoke.
 
“I don’t
know how it’s going to help you, but I suppose I could do it for you, as a
favor to Jean.”

“May we all sit
inside?” Momma asked.

Without thinking,
Greta said, “Why not?
 
I don’t see
what it could hurt.”

The three of us
walked into the living room straight from the front porch.
 
There were newspapers on the floor, a
few cereal boxes near the couch, and shoes and clothes everywhere.
 
This was how the cleaning lady lived
when she was home alone?

She must have
caught me sizing the place up.
 
“Sorry about the mess, but this is my day off, so I don’t do a lick of
work here.
 
I figure I spend enough
time cleaning up after other folks to worry too much about my place.
 
The only time I ever give it a really good
scrub is when Anna comes over.”

“You two are good
friends, aren’t you?”

“I’d do anything
for her,” Greta said.

That certainly
encompassed a great many things, and I had to wonder if it might have included
being an accessory before and after the fact in a murder.
 
I decided not to ask her that particular
question, though.
 
Instead, I just
stored her comment away in the back of my mind and pushed forward.
 

“Did you happen
to see Anna on your way to or from my sister’s home that day?” Momma asked.

“Sure, but just
enough to wave to her as she walked in through her front gate as I was on my
way to work.
 
Like I said, I didn’t
want to be late, so I didn’t have time to stop and chat.”

“Was there
anything unusual you might have spotted when you found my aunt?” I asked her.

“No, until I saw
her at the bottom of the stairs, everything was normal.
 
I was due there at ten, and I showed up
on the dot.
 
Punctuality is
important, you know.”

I refrained from reminding
her that so was cleanliness.

“Was the front
door locked or unlocked when you got there?” I asked her.

She squinted, no
doubt deep in thought.
 
“The police
chief asked me the same thing.
 
I honestly
don’t remember.”

It wasn’t all
that long ago.
 
How could she have
forgotten such a vital detail, given what she’d found soon afterward?
 
“Think hard, Greta.
 
Did you have to use your key to her
place or not?”

“I’m not sure.”
 
Greta looked at me quizzically.
 
“Why is it that important to you?”

She had me
there.
 
How could I explain why I
wanted to know if the killer had locked up after himself after he’d removed the
fishing line from the baluster?
 
“Tell me this, then.
 
Did you
usually have to use your key to get in?”

“Oh, yes, Miss
Jean was always very particular about locking up after herself.”
 
Greta frowned again and played with her
right hand, pretending to move it into a nonexistent pocket.
 
“The door was unlocked.
 
It had to have been.
 
I’m sure of it.
 
Isn’t it odd that I didn’t realize it
until just now?”

“How can you be
so sure of it now?” Momma asked.

“Because I remember
now that I didn’t try the knob before I used my key.
 
I turned it in the lock and then I tried
the door, but it wouldn’t open.
 
I’d
done that once before, thinking that I was unlocking something when in fact I
was locking it, instead.
 
Has that
ever happened to you?”

“Once or twice,”
I said with encouragement.
 
I was
trying to show her that we were on her side, when in fact, the only side we
were really on was my late aunt’s.
 
Momma
didn’t comment, so I asked, “So, after you locked the door by accident, and
then unlocked it, did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“You mean up
until I found your aunt on the floor?” she asked.

“Yes, up until
then.”

Frowning again, I
could see Greta straining to remember.
 
I just hoped that she didn’t hurt herself with the effort.
 
“No, not a thing.
 
I found Miss Jean, called the police,
and then I ran outside and waited for someone to show up.”

“You didn’t stay
with my sister’s body?” Momma asked her pointedly.

“I just couldn’t
do it.
 
I’m sorry.
 
When I tried to check for a pulse, she
was cold.
 
Besides, from the angle
she was laying, I knew she wasn’t going to just get up.
 
Even if I’d found a pulse, I couldn’t
have done anything to help her.
 
I
never took any training or anything.
 
All that I’ve done my whole life is clean.”

“We’re sure that
you did everything that you could.
 
Tell us what happened next,” I said in a soothing voice, trying to get
her back on track.
 
“How long did
the police take to show up?”

“That was the
thing.
 
It wasn’t two minutes before
one came flying up the hill with his lights on and his siren blaring.”

“Well, Maple
Hollow is a small town.
 
I wouldn’t
think that it would take that long for someone to show up when a body has been
found,” I said.

“That’s the
thing, though; it usually takes them awhile to show up, regardless of the
reason why they’ve been called,” she said.

“Was it Chief
Kessler or one of his other officers who arrived first on the scene?” Momma
asked.
 
It was a good question, and
I was impressed that Momma had thought to ask it.

“It was the chief
himself,” Greta said.
 
“Now that you
mention it, that was kind of odd, too.
 
He’s hardly ever the first one to show up anywhere, from the way I hear
it.
 
He likes his people to size
things up before he gets there himself.”

This was getting
to be interesting.
 
I had to wonder
if it was coincidence that had brought Chief Kessler out to my sister’s place,
or if he’d gotten there first on purpose?

“Greta, did you
happen to go up the stairs at any point that day?” Momma asked.

“No, ma’am.
 
I told you every step I took inside that
house, and that’s the truth.”

Momma nodded, and
then she must have noticed something that I had missed.
 
Sitting on the table beside Greta was a
crystal vase, something that looked as out of place there as a clown nose in a
wedding photograph.
 
Greta’s gaze
followed my mother’s, and I saw her face redden for an instant.

Momma said
coldly, “I recognize that piece.”

“It was a gift,”
Greta said quickly, the words rushing out of her.
 
“Your sister wanted me to know how much
she thought of the work I did for her.”

“It was a gift
indeed,” Momma said.
 
“I got it for
her for Christmas two years ago myself.”

That was why my
mother had spotted it.

Greta blushed
even more.
 
“I’m sure she loved
it.
 
When Miss Jean gave it to me,
she told me to cherish it, and now I’ll hold it even dearer.”

Momma’s gaze
started scrutinizing the place a great deal closer, and no one was more aware
of it than the housekeeper.
 
She
stood abruptly.
 
“I just remembered
my beauty shop appointment.
 
I need
to go.”

Momma and I
stood, and we were soon rushed out of Greta’s home.
 
The door slammed quickly behind us, and
I knew that was the last time we’d ever be allowed inside the housekeeper’s
home.

“Sorry about
that,” Momma said.
 
“I couldn’t help
it.
 
That was all my fault, wasn’t
it?”

“What do you
mean?”

“When I spotted
that vase, I should have kept my mouth shut.
 
You could have gotten more out of her,
but I blew the opportunity.”

“Momma, it’s
perfectly understandable why you were shocked to see it there.
 
There’s no need to apologize.”

As we walked back
to her car, Momma said, “For the record, there’s no way under the sun that Jean
gave that vase away, and certainly not to her housekeeper.”

“Aunt Jean
already suspected that Greta was a thief,” I reminded Momma.
 
“We’re just trying to figure out if
she’s a murderer, too.”

“How do you
propose that we go about that?” she asked me.

“We follow up on
the new lead she gave us about Anna.
 
After that, then it’s time to have another chat with the chief of police.”

“What did she say
about Anna?
 
That she spotted her
outside that morning?” Momma asked.

“Not just that,
but the fact that she was going in through her front gate as Greta was driving
past.
 
Think about it, Momma.
 
It’s possible that Anna was coming from
Aunt Jean’s house, where she removed the fishing line before anyone saw it.”

“On the other
hand, going by that theory of proximity, the fact that the police chief
answered the call so promptly might mean that he’d been inside removing the
line himself before anyone else could discover what he’d done.”

“That’s a good
point,” I said.
 
“We also can’t
forget that Greta herself could have removed it before she called the police in
the first place.
 
After all, she’s
the only one we know with any certainty who was actually in the house that
day.”

“That’s true, too.
 
I suppose that Adam Jefferson could have
done it as well.
 
There wasn’t much
of his alibi that can be confirmed one way or the other, so he has to stay on
our list as well.
 
Even if he was
out for a run as he claimed to be, we don’t know that he wasn’t running near
here, do we?
 
That would give him
the opportunity to dash up the stairs, remove the line, and be on his way
before anyone discovered what had happened.”

“There’s got to
be a way to break through this logjam,” I said.
 
“I think we’re just going to have to
push these people even harder until one of them breaks.”

“My, we’re not
making ourselves very popular in this town, are we?” she asked.

“We have to
remember that we’re not trying to win any popularity contests.
 
As long as we can keep the slamming
doors to a minimum, I think that we’ll be okay.”

“Then it’s off to
Anna’s we go,” Momma said.

 
 

Chapter 21

 
 

We were nearing Anna’s
home when my cellphone rang.

“It’s Jake,” I
told Momma happily, and then I answered his call.

“Hey, Suzanne,”
he said.
 
He sounded absolutely
beat.

“Are you okay,
Jake?”

“I’m not, but I
will be.
 
I finally got my bad guy,
so I’m on my way in a few minutes.”

“Did you get any
sleep at all last night?” I asked, concerned with him driving while he was
sleep-deprived.

“Maybe a little,”
he said wearily, which probably meant none at all.

BOOK: Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries)
2.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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