other businesses filled the main street with the library at the corner and from there you could either turn right and go out toward some new apartment buildings and a small medical center or turn left and head for the Sound.
A pond at the top of the main street across from the high school served as the city’s skating rink. Several children whirled around on skates. It stayed cold I would have to dig out my own on Sunday.
I found a parking space and took a leisurely walk, passing the travel agent. I stopped to admire brochures advertising far away tropical islands, mentally berating myself for not traveling more. The only islands I had been to bore the names of Ellis, Staten, Liberty, and Manhattan. Not very exotic. I continued down the sidewalk to Kruger’s Grocery.
I bought a few necessities and went next door to the bakery for fresh croissants. On my way back to my car, I spied a red sweater that would look lovely on my gray-haired mother, and entered the boutique.
Two women stood by the counter and talked about the murder. A murder in Indian Cove caused a lot of concern. I edged a bit closer hoping to hear some gossip.
“Never in all my years, and heavens knows that’s a lot of years, has something like this happened,” an elderly customer said to the clerk. “I locked my back door last night. First time. Forgot all about my husband coming home. He always comes in through the back after putting the car in the garage. About scared me half to death when he tried to get in.” The woman clutched her ample chest and gave a hearty laugh.
The clerk nodded in agreement. “I’m a little nervous about letting my girls play outside. They wanted to go skating tonight, but the pond is too far for me to keep a good eye on them. I’ll have to bring them over myself this weekend.”
I wandered slowly to the display of sweaters and had picked one up when a voice startled me.
“Alex? What are you doing here?”
I turned to see Sandy Knap, the order desk manager at Poupée Mannequins.
“Sandy, hi. Merry Christmas. I just saw this lovely red sweater in the window. If I can find it in the right size I think I’ll get it for my mother. She looks so nice in red.”
“I’m so sorry, Alex, you had to be the one to find Elvira. What a horrid ordeal. It seems no place is safe anymore. I can’t believe there’s been a murder in our little town. Who could be next?” Sandy gave a small shudder. “I heard you were in the office today.”
The two women at the counter now had their attention directed toward us. I turned away slightly and lowered my voice, sorry to deprive the women of gossip, but I didn’t want to betray Mr. Poupée or the factory in any way.
“Mr. Poupée thought I might be of some help,” I shrugged, “but I don’t know.”
Sandy put her hand on my arm. “You have a great way with people. Maybe you can find out something.”
“What’s to find out?” I hinted, hoping Sandy might expound on what I began to fear—that Mrs. Scott had her enemies.
“It could have been random violence. It seems to be happening everywhere. I’m not going out at night alone until this is over,” Sandy commented in a voice perfectly audible to prying ears at the counter. “As a matter of fact, my husband’s outside in the car waiting for me.”
The two women at the counter nodded their agreement to everything Sandy said.
I turned away from the counter, pulled three sweaters off the shelf, and checked the sizes. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it had nothing to do with Mrs. Scott. It does seem like everyone liked her a lot,” I openly prodded.
“Yes, but not by everyone.” Sandy noticed the women for the first time and took my arm and moved a bit further away from the counter. “Oh, some of the clerical staff liked her but she stepped on a lot of toes and could be a bit of a backstabber. Never to me,” Sandy added quickly, “but there are people who did not like her and truth be told they probably had good
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