Katherine Page - The Body in the Cast

“That's why I can't go back until the police catch the real murderer," Penny announced firmly. "It was clear as soon as Charley made the announcement. I would be the prime suspect."

“Because of Alden finding out about your taxes? And the very justifiable dislike you had for him? I doubt that very much," Faith assured her.

“That and the fact that under the conditions of Daddy's will, I inherit everything he left to Alden, including the house. It's quite a bit of money.”

Prime suspect sounded just about right.

They replenished their cups with hot tea and coffee. Faith and Pix took a few bites of their barely touched salads. No one said much. Faith was trying to figure out how to make the right thing to do coincide with what she wanted to do. Of course Penny should turn herself in to the police, but Faith's instincts also told her they might concentrate on building a case against Mrs. Bartlett, to the detriment of finding the real killer. Even Charley and John. There was the additional possibility Penny could be in some kind of danger from the murderer if all this had something to do with the Spaulding estate. The house alone, with its several acres of prime Aleford real estate, had to be worth over a million dollars. Faith tried to think of a tactful way of asking Penny the disposition of her estate without making it appear that she thought there was a chance Mrs. Bartlett could be receiving posthumous thank-you notes soon. Millicent had once mentioned that Penny's dog was like her child, so presumably there was a bequest in that direction, but unless someone at Angell Memorial had gotten wind of things and decided they had to have a new pet-care facility now, this line of thought led nowhere.

What was nagging at her? She'd hoped Penny's story would link the two murders. Sandra Wilson had been born in Boston. Could it have been her mother who approached Penny?

“Do you know what happened to the secretary after you gave her the money?"

“Oddly enough, yes. She sent me a postcard from Texas, I believe, thanking me and saying she'd had the baby—she didn't say boy or girl—and was moving to California.”

It all fit. It being ... ? f Alden had discovered that Sandra Wilson's mother had tried to blackmail Penny some twenty years ago—no wait, why would he want to kill her then? He'd want to keep her alive as evidence. All roads seemed to lead to Penny. She could have killed the girl. Why? Sandra was blackmailing her? Sandra really was Francis's daughter and the mumps thing wasn't true? She looked at Penny's honest face, less careworn than an hour earlier. Impossible.

But it was becoming more and more plain that if Penny came forward with all these stories, it would hopelessly divert the boys in blue from their job.

“Faith, I don't think it's absolutely necessary we mention to anyone except Millicent that we happened to bump into Penny at the flower show. We're going to be very busy with tonight's shoot and probably won't even see Detective Dunne or Charley." Pix had been going down the same road.

“I agree, but we do have to tell them somehow that something terrible hasn't happened to her. Penny, why don't you write a letter saying you are fine and left be- cause you needed some time to think or something like that? I can say it was in our mailbox, I know not how.”

Penny was enthusiastic. "I can't thank you enough, and I'm sure they'll find out who did this soon. Maybe they have already. In the meantime, you know where I am. I think I'll stay indoors a bit more and eat at the Y for the time being."

“What about the election?" asked Pix. "I hope you're not thinking of withdrawing?"

“It did cross my mind. James would do a fine job, but it doesn't seem right when so many people have worked so hard.”

She's afraid of Millicent, too, Faith thought.

“Of course, I can't stay at the Y forever," Penny mused. "I do hope the police will be quick.”

The police, with a little help from their friend. Faith was sure she would be able to figure out who had killed Alden. The funeral was the next day. People in medieval times believed that the corpse would bleed again if the murderer walked by. She'd have to keep a sharp eye out for red drops on the blue chancel carpet.

Back in Aleford, Pix dropped Faith off at her front door and slipped Penny's letter in Faith's mailbox. There had been a convenience store across from the Y and Penny had bought some envelopes and a pad. "Such a shame I can't use this time to catch up on my correspondence. I owe so many people letters" She'd brightened at the thought "Why not write them and mail them when I get home?" With that happily decided, Faith and Pix had left her to go home themselves.

Tom was in his study and miraculously both children were sound asleep, judging from the quiet that reigned. Faith thought it a bit suspect to walk in carrying the letter, so she let it lie where it was. Better for Tom to find it when the mail came.

“Any luck?”

On the drive back to Aleford, Faith had agonized over what to say to her husband. Pix had a similar problem with Sam. They had decided to seek refuge in confidentiality.

“Such a funny word, `luck.' " Faith stalled. "So much of the course of our lives is determined by chance encounters, lucky or otherwise.”

Tom didn't mince any words. "So you did find Penny.”

“I can't really talk about all this yet, darling, but the moment I can, you will be the first to know"

“And I'm supposed to take comfort from that?" He regarded his wife closely. "I hope you and Pix know what you're doing. In fact, I'd like to believe it ..."

“Here comes the but," Faith interjected.

“Forget the but—all the buts—and just be careful. Please."

“I promise," Faith swore. This was certainly the most confusing case she'd ever been involved in, yet she truly believed nothing posed any threat to her personally.

However, it was a little difficult to maintain objectivity when Tom came into the kitchen with the mail, the letter from Penny, stamp uncanceled, already opened.

“And what are we supposed to tell Charley about this?"

“About what?" Faith began, but it was her husband, after all. "Oh, Tom. You tell him you don't know how it got there, and you don't."

“ I tell him. So that's it. if you're not there in person, there hasn't been any subterfuge."

“Something like that. Now I have to get going. I talked to Niki and everything is ready for tonight, but I want to be there early to check. I hear Amy stirring, and Ben will not be far behind. I'll get the kids up and I've written down what's for dinner. They can watch Winnie-the-Pooh tapes on TV until then, which might not be according to Brazelton, but I'mbeginning to think the reach may permanently exceed my grasp."

“Whoa there. I never thought I'd be saying these words to my spouse, but I'm going to give you twenty-four hours, then we go to the police and you and Pix tell all. I'm assuming there's a very, very, very good reason you're not saying where Penny is, because I'm afraid all this more than qualifies as impeding the course of an investigation.”

Privately, Faith thought Tom was being a little highhanded with his time limit and three verys, but she agreed.

“All right, except give us until Saturday. I have the funeral tomorrow, then work. We may need a bit more time."

“For what?"

“I'm not sure," she admitted, "but it's not only time for us to try to figure out what's been going on. It's also to allow the police to track down the killer."

“Very gracious of you.”

The eulogy must be going extremely slowly. Tom was almost never sarcastic. She gave him a big kiss. "Why don't you run the letter over to the chief while I get the kids up? I love you."

“I love you, too," he said ruefully.