Katherine Page - The Body in the Cast

Millicent was sitting next to an empty seat, an aisle seat, and Faith was sure that must have been where Penny had been sitting, but Dunne had said he would make the announcement, so she didn't ask Millicent whether she'd seen Penny.

“She doesn't appear to be here," Faith reported, ardently wishing it could be otherwise. Why would Penny leave after Charley's explicit directions?

Dunne got up onstage and everyone quieted instantly.

“Would Penelope Bartlett come forward, please?" The only movement was that of people craning their necks to look for Penny.

Millicent stood up. She and Dunne were old friends.

“She's not here, Detective Lieutenant Dunne." Millicent believed in using full titles. "The victim was her half brother, so naturally she was very upset. She's gone home."

“Thank you, Miss McKinley.”

John Dunne would have leapt off the stage if he had been seventy or eighty pounds lighter and a few feet shorter. He got off as rapidly as possible and told Chief MacIsaac to get over to Penelope Bartlett's house posthaste.

He noticed Faith again and this time he did tell her to go home.

“All we're doing is taking names and asking if anyone saw Alden leave the room. So go home. Straight home.”

Dawn was beginning to streak across the horizon as Faith pulled into the parsonage driveway. She was very, very tired, and she endangered several of the Canadian hemlocks that made up the hedge separating the Fairchilds from the Millers before she stopped the car in front of the garage door. She was too exhausted to open it.

Upstairs, Tom awoke as soon as she came in the room. Normally, it took the alarm and his wife's gentle shaking to rouse him.

“Stay where you are. I'll be right there," Faith told him. She was soon resting in his arms beneath the duvet, incredibly happy to be where she was. Incredibly happy to be alive. As she told Tom what had happened, she allowed herself to feel the full impact. There had been a death. Another death. The violence of the crime and her own brush with danger jolted her into wakefulness.

“What do you do when someone you don't like gets killed? It's been horrible all night." She'd been glad the dimly lighted room had obscured the full extent of Alden's injury. It wasn't Technicolor; it was black and white.

“We do the same thing we do when anyone dies. We pray for them. We may not mourn them in the same way. That's only natural, darling, but we pray.”

Tom's words were comforting. There were times when it was very handy to have a minister for a husband, and Faith began to get drowsy again.

“I'll take care of everything. You try to fall asleep," Tom told her. She already was.

When Faith opened her eyes, it was almost noon. The phone was ringing. She jumped out of bed, forgetting for the moment that Tom must be home. It was answered on the fourth ring, which proved he was indeed downstairs and the children must be nearby, hence the delay. She grabbed her robe and went nobly to his rescue.

“Mommee!" Ben shrieked, "Amy keeps bothering me!”

It was hard to figure out how, since the baby was in her infant seat, peacefully batting at a toy bar with pastel-colored bunnies and other mutants of nature.

Child Number Two occupied for the moment, Faith turned her full attention to Child Number One. It was the ever-present threat to this position that she suspected was really bothering him. She picked him up and kissed the top of his head. His hair smelled like baby shampoo. Tom must have bathed him. Ben hugged her tightly and she hugged him back. She'd been missing both kids terribly.

“Honey, she's so little. She doesn't even know what bothering is." But she'll find out, assured a voice from within. "Show me what you've been doing. Have you had lunch yet?”

Ben wasn't sure. Tom shook his head from his position by the phone, where he was engaged in a remarkably one-sided conversation.

“Do you want to help Mommy make toasted cheezers?" The chance to reduce a slab of cheddar to crumbs with the cheese slicer was always a winner, and Ben nodded enthusiastically. "Amy can't do it. Amy can't do anything," he happily explained to his mother, who was getting out some sliced ham and tomatoes to add to the sandwiches.

Tom hung up and came over. He wrapped his arms around his wife and said, `Boy, am I glad you're awake. The phone has been ringing all morning. That was Millicent." He raised his eyebrows. "Our friend regards last night's incident as some kind of divine retribution. Her first words were, in fact, `Isn't it wonderful for the town' "

“I don't think it's that she's insensitive—well, maybe she is—but in this case, it's simply the old McKinley tunnel vision at work. She sees the goal, her goal, and nothing else."

“You may be right. At the moment, she's looking for Penny"

“What! You mean she didn't go home after leaving last night?"

“She may have gone home, but she wasn't there by the time Charley got there."

“Maybe she decided not to answer the door."

“They thought of that. Charley knew Millicent had Penny's spare key and went back to the Town Hall to get it. Millie insisted on going back with them to make sure Penny was all right, but she was gone. Millicent had some idea we knew Penny's whereabouts, and you know how Millie is. The more I said I didn't have a clue, the more she seemed to think I had secreted Penny in the attic."

“There's certain to be a lot of publicity. Maybe Penny wanted to avoid it. She's definitely of the `a lady only appears in the newspaper three times: birth, marriage, and death' school. Given the way she felt about Alden, it doesn't seem as if this is a crazed grief reaction."

“It's troubling, whatever her reasons. And speaking of publicity, you're in great demand—we've heard from every newspaper, TV, and radio station on the East Coast. Charley's holding a press conference at three o'clock, so maybe you can'get away with a statement there."

“Good idea." Faith removed the nicely browned sandwiches, slightly oozing with the melted cheese, from a large cast-iron frying pan, cut them in half, andarranged them on a platter. She poured milk in a pitcher and set both on the table. All this publicity wouldn't hurt business. Her conscience immediately snapped to attention. What kind of person could even think of something like that!

When she got back from delivering her brief statement about finding the body, it was almost five. Amy was up from her nap. Ben had stoutly refused one, Tom reported. Both Fairchild men looked beat.

“Why don't you lie down before supper and I'll read to Ben?" Faith suggested. "There's some chili and I'll make a salad. Nothing much."

“Sounds wonderful. All of it. Don't let me sleep too long, though. I have a ton of work to do. Nobody mentioned anything about when they would release the body for the funeral, did they?"

“No, but Alden's lawyer from Boston was there. You could call him.”

Tom nodded.

“Oh, I almost forgot, two other things," Faith told him. "They've issued a description of Penny statewide and asked that anyone seeing her contact the police."

“The poor woman. What can be going on?"

“Everyone is as puzzled as we are"

“And what's the second thing?"

“Alden was killed with a piece of wood from the pile of old lumber in the storeroom, so it may not have been premeditated—unless the murderer was extremely familiar with the Town Hall's basement.”

Tom, his eyes drooping, was clearly not as fascinated by all this as she was.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart, and we'll talk later when the kids are in bed.”

After they had finished eating, it was time to tuck Ben and Amy in. When Faith came back downstairs, Tom had started working. She decided to leave him to it. She had work of her own. She got one of his yellow legal pads and sat down at the kitchen table.