Read Online Dying to Call You by Elaine Viets - Free Book Online Page B

solicitors. I thought of collecting for a charity door-to-door, but those rich old buzzards would have called the police the minute I rang their bells. So I made me up some flyers.”
    She reached in her purse and handed one to Helen.
    “SAVANNAH’S SUPER-CLEAN SERVICE,” it began. “Excellent references. Will do windows and hands-and-knees scrubbing your housekeeper won’t touch. Cheap.”
    “Is that what you do for a living? Clean houses?” I’m getting lazy, Helen thought. I never bothered asking her occupation, but it would explain the bleach odor under the flowery perfume.
    “It’s one of my jobs. I have three. I’m an office manager by day. I work at a convenience store on State Road 7 four nights a week. In my spare time, I clean houses.” She said that last line with a straight face.
    “Jeez, Savannah. What happened?”
    “A bad divorce and some medical bills that weren’t covered by insurance.” Savannah shrugged. She was not looking for sympathy.
    “A dozen flyers from Kinko’s got me all over Brideport.
    Nobody turns away a cleaning woman, even if they have a housekeeper. In fact, some rich folks hire me to keep their housekeepers happy. What are these energy bars, anyway?
    They’re not bad.”
    “Pria bars,” Helen said. “I live on them.” She’d been trying to eat them instead of the salt-and-vinegar chips. Instead, she ate both. She’d gained another two pounds.
    “Most of that stuff tastes like chocolate-covered ceiling insulation.” Savannah looked at her watch and said, “I have to get back to work. I talked with the neighbors on either side of Hank Asporth. One was a lovely saleslady, Ms. Patterson.
    She sells medical equipment and travels all the time. Must make boo-coo bucks.
    “We got along real well. Ms. Patterson hired me to do her heavy cleaning. I told her I saw the police cars at her neighbor’s house the other night, and I wasn’t sure it was safe to work in Brideport. She assured me it was a secure neighborhood. She wasn’t home at the time, but Mr. Asporth told her the police were called for a false alarm.”
    “He would,” Helen said.
    “Mr. McArthur, the old man on the other side, was eighty-two and almost deaf. He was also lonely and liked to talk. We sat in his kitchen and drank coffee and ate butter cookies. He didn’t hear a thing that night, which was no surprise. I had to practically yell at him the whole time. Hank Asporth has a lot of girls at his house, but Mr. McArthur never heard any wild parties. The old man sounded kind of disappointed. His house could use a good cleaning, but he didn’t hire me.
    “There’s only one neighbor across the street, Mrs.
    Kercher. She lives on a big five-acre spread. She didn’t hear anything, but she saw something. A little yellow Honda was parked in Ms. Patterson’s drive for several hours that evening. That’s the medical saleslady’s driveway—the one who was out of town.
    “My sister drove an old yellow Honda.” Drove.
    “What does Ms. Patterson drive?”
    “A new black BMW,” Savannah said. “Her housekeeper has an old brown Ford. It was the first and last time Mrs.
    Kercher saw that yellow car. Too bad she didn’t see who drove it.
    “I think it was Laredo’s car. You can’t park on the street in Brideport. Before the police showed up, Hank Asporth moved Laredo’s car to the driveway next door. Nice old Hank takes in his neighbor’s mail. He knew the saleslady wouldn’t be back that night.”
    “Do you really think he’d have time to move a car and clean up any sign of a struggle before the police came?”
    “That’s the hitch. It doesn’t seem likely, does it?” Savannah said. “Do you think he had help?”
    “If he did, the police didn’t mention another person.
    Wouldn’t Hank have produced him as a witness? You know, ‘Officer, George and I were watching the movie all afternoon.’ Did Mrs. Kercher say she saw another car in Hank’s driveway?”
    “No. I asked her. The only