through the stacks of folders on her desk.
The phone rang and she picked it up.
âI just thought youâd like to know the mayorâs on the way,â Hazel said.
Great. âDo you know what he wants?â
âHe didnât say.â
âIâm out talking to a witness.â Susan hung up, slurped the last of the soup, and took off.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Pauline was just rewinding the cord on the vacuum when the doorbell rang.
âPolice Chââ Susan said.
âOf course you are,â Pauline said. âCome right in out of the wind.â
She was a small plump woman in her eighties with a cloud of white hair, a kind wrinkled face, and pale blue eyes. She wore a lavender sweat suit and striped black and lime green socks. She smiled a welcome.
Demarco probably hadnât used his charm, Susan thought sarcastically.
The room was exceedingly hot. A white afghan with brightly colored granny squares was spread across the sofa and an orange cat was spread across the afghan. It blinked at her. The room was made small by too much furniture. Tables and shelves were crowded with ceramic figures of Victorian girls, flowers, cats, and bunnies. Hanging by the front door was stitchwork that read:
A blessing upon your new home,
A blessing upon your new hearth,
Upon your newly kindled fire.
âMy grandmother made that,â Pauline said. âI hung that up when I moved in as a young bride sixty years ago. If you donât like cats, just push him off,â she added.
The cat tightened its upper lip to reveal long sharp fangs. Susan decided sheâd just sit down right here on the other end of the sofa.
âAnother tragedy at the Ellendorfer place, I see,â Pauline said. âWho died? Not Caley, or one of the children? Theyâre all right, arenât they?â
âTheyâre fine. Why do you think someone died?â
Pauline looked exasperated. âI may be old, young lady. And I may totter, but I still have a brain. I saw the body being put in the ambulance. They arenât completely covered up unless theyâre no longer breathing.â
Susan smiled. âYes, someone died.â
âWho?â
âHis name was Tim Holiday. Did you know him?â
Pauline thought a moment, then shook her head. âNo. Who is he?â
âHe came to repair the furnace.â
âOh, yes, he was there many times. I was beginning to think she was sweet on him. How did he die?â
âHe was shot.â Susan kept the business with the burned face and hands to herself. âWhen did you see him?â
âBecause itâs so painful for me to get around I spend a lot of time right here in this chair.â She patted the arm of the rocker. âAnd I look out the window. You probably think Iâm a nosy old lady.â
Susan loved nosy old ladies. They saw things nobody else noticed and were a font of information. âOf course not,â she said.
Pauline grinned. âYes, you do, dear, but thatâs all right, itâs true. At this stage in my life I feel itâs my right to be nosy. I saw this young man five or six times, maybe more. I didnât count.â
âWhen?â
âWell, let me see. Two nights last week, I mean fairly late, after the lights were out for quite some time. Thatâs why I thought young Caley was seeing him. I said to myself, I hope that ex-husband of hers isnât the jealous type. I know they were divorced, but itâs one thing for a man to run away from his wife and another to let some other man have her. Not that I approve of affairs, but things are different now and I donât approve of that ex-husband of hers either. A good man stays with his wife and children and provides for them.â
âWhat nights did you see Tim Holiday?â
âThursday and Friday for sure.â
âDid Mrs. James let him in?â
âI donât know about that. He went in and out
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