by Sonia Parin
Abby glanced over at Doyle. “I know I said I’d go get coffee. So what are we doing driving out of town? I’m following a hunch.” Abby tapped the steering wheel. “I’d like to know if Sahara went out to Miranda’s house. I have no idea what type of car she drives, but if we see a car parked outside Miranda’s place, I think we’ll be able to assume it’s hers.”
And what would she do then? She could be brazen, knock on the door and offer her condolences…
When she reached the farmhouse, she left her SUV by the side of the road and walked up to the house. Doyle looked up at her and gave her a doggy version of raised eyebrows.
“Don’t look at me like that, we both need the exercise.” In reality, she didn’t want to announce her arrival. If Sahara had come here to clear out Miranda’s personal effects, then… Abby wanted to see it with her own eyes.
“Did you just whimper?”
Doyle trudged beside her, his little head moving from side to side.
“I guess I imagined it.” The late Victorian farmhouse with its eucalyptus green colored corrugated roof typical of the era sat in the middle of a large acreage surrounded by a lush garden. The car parked in the driveway looked like a rental. An upbeat tune wafted out of the house. “She must be trying to cheer herself up.”
Abby gave the doorbell a try but no one answered.
“I don’t think she can hear me.” She was about to knock when the music stopped and the door opened a crack.
“Yes?”
Abby introduced herself.
“A reporter?”
“Well, yes… but I also represent the town.” She took the opportunity to offer her condolences.
Sahara Johns nudged the door open a fraction more, giving Abby a clearer view of her face.
Her eyes appeared to be bloodshot, almost as if she’d been crying. Abby wished she’d spent time honing her reporter’s instinct and hunger for a story. She had friends who didn’t have any qualms about aiming for the jugular and asking the tough questions.
Abby softened her voice. “This must be a difficult time for you.”
Sahara agreed with a small nod.
“Did you know about Miranda’s allergy?”
“Of course.”
Abby visibly shivered. “We’re all thinking we should get tested. How did Miranda find out about her allergy?”
“A bee stung her while she was on a school trip.”
“Wow.” Wow? You’re a reporter, not a teenager. “It must have been a close call.”
“She went to a posh school. They had a nurse on hand.”
Abby tried to interpret Sahara’s tone. She’d definitely picked up on the derision but there had also been a hint of jealousy.
“Were you there?”
Sahara’s lips twitched. “Hardly. Her mom married money. Mine didn’t.” She looked over her shoulder and then back at Abby. “If you don’t mind, I’m busy.” Before Abby could say anything else, she closed the door.
“At least I’m not walking away empty-handed,” Abby murmured.
Sahara had looked upset. Belatedly, she realized she should have asked about William Matthews. It had been odd seeing them sitting at opposite ends of the bar.
“Almost as if they’d been trying to ignore each other.”
A sign of bad blood between them?
She turned and headed back to the car only to realize she’d been talking to herself.
Looking around, she saw Doyle disappearing round the side of the house. “Hey, where are you going?” Abby followed him and saw that he’d stopped before reaching the clearing that led to the rear of the house. He looked over his shoulder at her and then back at whatever had caught his attention. “What is it, Doyle?” Silly question, Abby thought. If she wanted to know, she’d have to see for herself. Abby’s nose crinkled. She picked up the scent of…
“Something burning.” Stooping down to avoid being spotted from one of the windows, she reached Doyle. “Oh…”
She saw a pile of clothes sizzling under the intense heat of a fire.
Had Sahara been busy burning Miranda’s possessions? Hadn’t she heard of thrift stores? Clearly she didn’t care about the environment…
She heard a back door slam and a second later Sahara strode into Abby’s line of vision. She had her arms full of books and…
A cream colored skirt.
“The Eden Thespians wardrobe department is not going to be please.” Although she doubted anyone would want to wear a dead woman’s clothes…
Chapter Sixteen
“Your eyebrows are curved down. What’s going on?” her mom demanded.
“I’m parking the car, mom. I always slant my eyebrows downward when I park the car.”
“It’s actually more of a frown,” her mom added.
Doyle sniffed the phone screen.
Her mom yelped.
“I think Doyle is telling you to chill out.”
“You could at least have found yourself a proper guard dog. Something with more presence. Like a Rottweiler.”
Abby patted Doyle. “He does a good job.” Today had been the first time he’d wandered off and she still hadn’t decided if that had been a good thing or not.
Looking across the street she saw Joshua’s car parked outside the Gazette. Abby scooped Doyle up and dashed across the street.
“What’s going on? Why are you running?” her mom asked.
When Abby burst into the office Faith surged to her feet, her phone pressed to her ear. “Here she is. You can call off the search.” Putting the phone down she rounded her desk. “Where did you go to get the coffee? Hang on. You’re not carrying any coffee. Where’s the coffee you said you were going to get?”
“Sorry, I forgot. And… what was that about? Who was that on the phone?”
“I sent Joshua looking for you.” Faith frowned. “You went to Joyce’s and—”
“No. I didn’t… I followed a hunch.”
“I don’t like the sound of this,” her mom said. “Abby. Stop pointing the phone at the floor. If you’re going to pursue a dangerous lead, you could at least call someone first.”
“Your mom’s right. Why didn’t you let me know? I could be your backup. Actually, I could be Robin to your Batman.”
Abby set Doyle down and gave him a scratch on his belly. Satisfied, he scampered off to his doggy bed. “Would everyone please chill out?”
“You sound flustered. Before, I thought it was just your driving voice, but now I’m not so sure. What’s happened?” her mom asked.
“Nothing, mom.”
“Abby, I know you’re investigating a crime—”
“Mom. I’m a reporter trying to cover the news. Solving the crime is Joshua’s job.” She turned to Faith. “What’s his car doing here?”
“He came to see you.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t say.” Faith wagged a finger at her. “But he wasn’t pleased to learn you’d disappeared.”
“I did not disappear. Sorry, next time I’ll check in with you.”
“So where did you go?” Faith asked.
Abby got a bottle of water out of the mini fridge. Had it been a wasted trip? “I took off on a flight of fancy.”
Faith grumbled under her breath. “I think we need to set up a protocol. You can’t just go off like that, especially when you say you’re going to get coffee…”
Abby swung around. “You’ve seen Sahara Johns. How would you describe her?”
“Medium height. Short cropped hair. Round face. Sorry, I’m not really good at this.” Faith slumped against the edge of her desk. “Are we getting coffee or not?”
Abby looked out the window and across the street at the pub. “I need to stay put. Sorry.” She didn’t want to miss seeing Sahara returning to the pub.
“Have you hatched a plan?” Faith asked. “It sounds like you have.”
“I’m not sure.” She nibbled on the tip of her thumb and thought out loud, “What did Joshua want? Surely h
e must have given you a hint.”
“He wouldn’t say. You can ask him yourself. Here he comes.”
Joshua strode in. “There you are.”
“Why does everyone sound surprised to see me?”
“You should have seen Faith ten minutes ago. I had to wrench the phone away from her. She wanted to call the police.” Joshua pointed at himself. “Never mind me.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Abby asked. “You sound weird.” Not his usual self-contained self. Had they really thought she’d gone missing?
“Let me see his face,” her mom said.
Abby pointed her cell phone at Joshua.
“He looks fine to me. Stand next to him, Abby.”
“Why?”
“Because, for once, I’d like to see you standing next to a man and not a dog.”
Abby cringed and mouthed an apology to Joshua.
Faith cleared her throat. “Can we get back on track, please?” She strode to the door and locked it. “You’re not leaving until you tell us where you went.”
“I paid Sahara a visit at Miranda’s farmhouse. Like I said, I just followed a hunch. When I saw her leave the pub this morning, I assumed she’d be headed there—”
Faith put a hand up. “Stop right there.” She dashed off into the back room.
“I didn’t know Faith could be so bossy,” her mom said.
“Yeah, but we love her.”
A moment later, Faith reappeared. “I get the feeling that whatever you’re going to say needs to go on the whiteboard.” Faith gave her a director’s cue. “Action.”
“I spoke with Sahara Johns.” Abby tilted her head and looked upward.
“That’s Abby’s thinking look,” her mom said.
“She was burning stuff and now that I think about it, she probably got some smoke in her eyes and that’s why they looked bloodshot.”
Faith got busy writing it all down. “What else?”
Abby’s shoulders went up. “I don’t understand why she’d do that.”
“To get rid of evidence,” Faith suggested.
They all looked at her. Abby even remembered to point the phone in her direction so her mom could look at her too.
“Who’s Sahara?” her mom asked.
“It’s Miranda’s cousin. She’s here clearing out her stuff.” Abby clicked her fingers. “Last night when she came down to the bar, William was there but she didn’t sit with him. Are they even on speaking terms? Can you enlighten us, detective?”
“I’ve only spoken with them individually,” he said.
“Did William Matthews ever mention Sahara?” Abby clicked her fingers. “Of course he did. You said something about him asking Sahara to clean out Miranda’s things.”
Joshua shook his head. “Actually. You’re the one who reached that conclusion.”
“Abby tends to fill in the gaps,” her mom offered. “Also, she gets impatient when people don’t answer straight away. I bet anything she’s rolling her eyes now.”
Joshua and Faith nodded.
“It’s a habit she picked up as a teenager,” her mom added.
“Mom, you’re about to be disconnected.” Abby ended the call. Seconds later, Faith’s desktop computer beeped.
Faith grinned and, mouthing an apology, she swiveled the screen around. “Can you see us, Eleanor?”
“Yes, thank you, Faith.”
Shaking her head, Abby asked, “Where were we?”
“Trying to determine what sort of relationship Sahara has with William,” her mom offered.
“A needs must relationship?” Faith suggested.
Abby crossed her arms and stared at the whiteboard. “Yes, but why would they ignore each other? Doesn’t that ring alarm bells?”
“What would people say if they saw them together?” her mom asked.
“They’re both supposed to be in mourning,” Abby said. “Someone they had a connection with died. There’s nothing odd about them being together. I think there’s something very suspicious about them—” Going out of their way to pretend they’re not on speaking terms, Abby thought.
“Abby, we don’t all have the ability to fill in the gaps.”
Deep in thought, Abby didn’t know if that had been Faith or her mom.
“How about I go get us some coffee?” Faith offered.
“Not for me, thanks.” Joshua waved at Abby’s mom. “I have to get going.”
Abby snapped out of her reverie. “Wait. You didn’t say why you came?”
“Oh… the coroner ran more tests and performed a full autopsy and ran further tests.”
Abby didn’t want to hear about the details. She’d watched enough TV shows to know that involved a lot of cutting up and weighing of inner organs.
“He found bee venom residue in her lungs. Miranda inhaled the bee venom.”
“Would knowing this from the start have made a difference in your investigation?” Abby’s mom asked.
“Sorry,” Abby whispered. “My mom has a thing about thoroughness. The coroner is lucky she’s not in a position to hire and fire.” She turned to the screen. “Mom, he sort of identified it. Remember, this is a small town. I think it’s safe to say we’re lucky he even had the time to look into it as quickly as he did.”
“He actually came from the city,” Joshua explained.
Abby wondered if they might need to get their own medical examiner. She turned back to Joshua. “What’s come over you? You’ve gone out of your way to come here and share that information? Why?”
“I’m wondering that myself,” Joshua said. “Please stick to playing around with a crime board. No more chasing after people.”
After Joshua left, her mom said, “Abby, you should be nicer to him. The fact he shared information with you means he credits you with some abilities. He thinks you can help out. It’s not unusual for police to engage with consultants…”
Inhaled venom.
Could that be proof Miranda had known the killer?
Faith waved. “I’m going to get us some coffee. I should only be gone five minutes. If I’m not back by then, you should contact the café and if they can’t help you, please feel free to call the police.”
Abby looked out across the street just as a car pulled up outside the pub. Sahara’s car. She emerged carrying a handful of books. Before Sahara could disappear into the pub, Abby dove for the camera and snapped a couple of photos.
“What was that?” her mom asked.
Abby strode to Faith’s desk and turned the screen to face her.
“What are you doing? I can see you but I can’t see what you’re doing on the computer.”
“I just took a photo of Sahara and I want to print it out.” Before she did that, she decided to play around with the image.
“Let’s give her longer hair.” Doyle stirred and looked at Abby. “Did I wake you? Sorry. Although I shouldn’t apologize. I’ve heard you roaming around the apartment in the middle of the night. If you didn’t take so many naps during the day, you’d sleep right through the night.”
“Are you enjoying having a pet?” her mom asked.
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“I’m sorry you couldn’t have a pet growing up.” Her mom sniffled. “I dropped in on Mrs. O’Hara next door. She recently had a wisdom tooth pulled out. I swear I didn’t stop sneezing the whole time I was visiting. When her husband passed away, she acquired two dogs to keep her company. They’re the cutest little creatures but very hairy.”
As her mom chatted away, Abby changed the color of Sahara’s hair. Her dark eyebrows suggested honey blonde wasn’t her natural hair color, so she made it darker.
“I can’t see what you’re doing but if your expression is anything to go by, you’re surprised.”
“Yes. I wonder how I’d look as a blonde.”
“What’s come over you? You’ve never been unhappy about your looks.”
Abby wagged a finger at the screen. “What would you have said if I’d c
omplained?”
“I would have told you to get over yourself and be grateful you have a functioning body. You should focus on the positives and count your blessings.”
Let’s make her a real blonde, Abby thought. She tried a lighter tone. Hitting the wrong button, she ended up making Sahara’s hair white. With a few clicks, she changed it to… “Sunshine blonde.”
Abby played around with the image and then printed a copy and showed her mom.
“Who’s that?” her mom asked.
“It’s Sahara.” Biting the edge of her lip, Abby studied the picture.
“That’s your worried look. Something’s bothering you.”
Abby nodded. “I’m still thinking about William Matthews and Sahara standing at opposite ends of the bar. It felt too obvious. Almost as if they’d both agreed they shouldn’t be seen in public together.” She sat forward and went through the files on Faith’s computer until she found what she wanted. “Can you do me a favor, mom? I’ll send you a couple of annual reports. Faith said she’d go through them but it wouldn’t hurt if someone else had a look. Can you see if you can find any connection between William Matthews and the theater?” She attached the documents and emailed them to her mom.
Grabbing her keys, she shot to her feet.
“Abby? Where are you going?”
“I’ll talk to you later, mom. Come on, Doyle. We’re going for a little drive.” Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Mom, tell Faith I’ll be back shortly.”
“What? You can’t leave me in charge of the office.”
Abby laughed. “You can be our temporary virtual assistant.”
“Wait. At least turn the screen around so I can look at the front door. What if someone sneaks up on me?”
“Mom, you’re 8,000 miles away. You’ll be safe.”
“People die of fright. Now do as I asked, please.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Abby Maguire to see Miss Haverstock, please.” She looked down at Doyle and whispered, “I guess I should have included you. Sorry.”
