The Hidden Corpse

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Be careful!” Peggy called out as she shuffled over to Hope and reached out a small, frail hand to steady Hope’s body.

  Hope glanced down and smiled. If she lost her balance, she’d fall and Peggy would get squished. The hand resting against Hope’s leg was doing nothing to keep her from falling, but she appreciated the gesture. Finally, she was able to turn off the smoke detector and the high-pitched beeping stopped.

  “Oh, thank you!” Peggy helped guide Hope off of the chair. “The noise was making me crazy.”

  “I can understand.” Hope returned the chair to the table and walked back to the stove. “Would you like me to clean this pot out?”

  Peggy nodded and then padded to the stove and looked at the pot. “I made a mess, didn’t I?”

  “Did you forget you were cooking something?”

  “I must have. I woke up to the loud beeping and smoke.”

  “You fell asleep with something cooking on the stove? That can be dangerous.”

  “I really don’t remember cooking. You see, Meg stopped by earlier with groceries and she bought me some of those prepared meals from the store that I just have to reheat in the microwave. So, I don’t know why I would cook anything. What’s in the pot?”

  “Onions and peppers,” Hope said.

  Peggy frowned. “I always made that for Ricky. I don’t cook that anymore.”

  Hope reached out and covered Peggy’s hand with hers. Ricky was Peggy’s late husband, and she’d doted on him. Now she was at an age when her mind could play tricks on her. She could’ve made the onions and peppers thinking Ricky was coming home from work.

  Hope’s heart ached for Peggy. Getting old wasn’t easy. “Let me call Meg and have her come over.”

  “No!” Peggy grabbed hold of Hope’s hand, tightly. “Please don’t.”

  “Why not? She’s your niece.”

  Peggy’s eyes clouded with fear. “She wants me to go into a nursing home. I won’t. It was bad enough being in that rehab place. I won’t leave my home.”

  Hope bit her lower lip as she considered what to do. “Peggy, you fell asleep with something cooking on the stove. Maybe you shouldn’t be alone.”

  Tears streamed down Peggy’s face. She tried to wipe them away with her bony fingers, but there were too many. Hope extricated herself from Peggy’s hold and went for some tissues. She returned and Peggy took the tissues.

  Peggy dried her face as she settled at the table. “I want to stay in my home. Ricky died here. I want to also.”

  Hope sighed. She sympathized with her neighbor and wanted to honor her request. She also knew she needed to be the reasonable adult in the situation and call Meg.

  “I promise, I won’t turn on the stove or oven,” Peggy said.

  Hope wrestled with what she should do and what she wanted to do. If Peggy were her aunt, she’d want to know she nearly burned down her house. But if she were Peggy, she’d want her wishes respected. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

  “Okay. I’m going to hold you to your promise.”

  Peggy smiled. “Bless you. Bless you.”

  With the heavy pot in hand and full of doubt, Hope left the house. Had she made the right decision in promising not to call Meg? There was a chance Peggy overexerted herself and was tired. She’d been home for only a few days.

  “Hello, Hope,” a familiar voice called from a short distance away.

  She was so deep in thought about Peggy, she hadn’t seen her other neighbor Gilbert Madison walking toward her with his dog, Buddy. Twice a day Gilbert walked his golden retriever or was it the other way around? Hope wasn’t sure. Gilbert maintained the routine for Buddy’s health, but she suspected Gilbert enjoyed being out and about, chatting with the neighbors.

  “Hi.” Hope walked down the driveway and was greeted by Buddy. He and Bigelow had become fast friends and they often had playdates. Sometimes she envied the fact her dog had a more active social life than she did.

  “Everything okay with Peggy?” Gilbert asked as Buddy sat next to him. The three-year-old dog was used to frequent stops during his walks because Gilbert liked to visit with his neighbors.

  “I’m not sure.” She shared with Gilbert what had happened and, even though Peggy promised not to cook, she was still worried.

  Gilbert nodded. “She’s just come home. She probably overdid it. Mitzi saw her this morning out by the mailbox pulling up weeds. I’ll ask Mitzi to check on her later.” Gilbert tugged on Buddy’s leash and they began walking away. “Have a good evening.” He waved.

  Feeling a little better knowing the Madisons would be looking after Peggy, Hope headed back to her house. She had a ton of work to do, so it looked like another long night ahead of her. She had a couple of blog posts to write and finish putting together the free e-book. The recipes were all done and photographed, so all she needed to do was the layout of the book.

  Claire left after Hope returned from Peggy’s house to pick up her kids from sports. Bigelow wasted no time in reminding Hope it was dinnertime. Beside his food bowl, he did his nightly “dinner dance.” She quickly dished out his meal and, while he ate, she prepared a simple pasta dish for herself.

  Once the dinner dishes were cleared, Hope prepared a cup of tea and settled at the kitchen table and started to work. She spent twenty minutes checking her social media followed by a quick scan of her e-mails. An old friend from her days in New York City sent a link to an article on a gossip website about her ex-husband. He’d liked the spotlight too much to give it up and wrangled his own reality TV show. Even though she had work to do, she clicked on the link. She had no business wasting time reading gossip.

  Once the website was loaded and she found the story her friend linked to, she realized just how bad a decision it was.

  “Has Tim Ward found his true love in Angelica Rios?”

  Hope slumped in her chair. Her ex-husband had a new girlfriend. She closed the browser and opened up her publishing program to continue work on the e-book for her subscribers. She didn’t have time to dwell on Tim or his new love, the ultra-lanky, boob-enhanced model Angelica.

  She tapped feverishly on the keyboard. Only to stop typing mid-sentence. Against her better judgment, she opened her browser again and went back to the website and read the article that accompanied the photograph of the very happy couple in love.

  “Tim Ward, ex-husband of food blogger and former The Sweet Taste of Success runner-up, Hope Early, has dated several women on the reality show Life After the Big D. It looks like this time Ward has finally found true love with international model Angelica Rios.”

  Hope huffed. Before she clicked off the website, she saw the links below the article under the title of “More from Celeb Watch.”

  Three links and the first one read: “Hope Early Assists with Murder Investigations.”

  Hope huffed again.

  The second link read: “Hope Early’s Sister Arrested for Murders.”

  Having her sister the person of interest for two murders a couple of months ago forced Hope into doing a little detective work of her own and nearly got her killed when she discovered the identity of the killer.

  She closed the browser again. While the web articles would remain forever, she was glad there would be no more sleuthing in her future.

  Chapter Three

  Hope took a sip from her travel mug. She’d brewed a whole pot of coffee to get her morning started. Getting out of bed was a struggle, but it wasn’t because of soreness, which had become a common problem after purchasing an old house that needed a lot of work. Rather, it was plain old exhaustion.

  The first day of her photography class left her mentally drained. She thought she had a good handle on snapping photos of her food, but she was wrong. There was so much to absorb from Cal’s years of experience that her brain actually hurt. How would she remember everything he was teaching? If the class wasn’t enough, she’d been dragged into Drew’s drama, Claire’s insane idea of hosting an English tea party for M
aretta, worrying about Peggy’s mental state, and to top it off, the cherry on the sundae was reading about Tim’s new love, a leggy, boob-enhanced model. Yeah, last night was rough.

  After she swallowed her drink of coffee, she chided herself for not making it stronger. She needed full-on diesel to get through the day. She was the first one to arrive at Cal’s studio. Hope had a thing for being on time, which meant she always arrived early and waited a lot. She settled at the long table in the middle of the studio space and opened up her website. She needed to schedule some of her posts and a few quiet moments alone would allow her to finish the task quickly.

  She worked with an editorial calendar, something bloggers usually had a hard time utilizing, but with her background in magazine publishing, using the calendar came naturally to her. When all of the posts were scheduled with their go-live date she let out a sigh of relief. Now she wasn’t too far behind; she was making headway.

  “Good morning, you’re the first one here.” Brenda Fowler, Cal’s assistant, entered the studio carrying two overflowing reusable grocery bags.

  “It’s my nature to be early,” Hope said.

  “Maybe because it’s your last name.” Brenda smiled. She carried the grocery bags into the kitchen.

  Hope laughed. Like she’d never heard that before, but she didn’t want to be rude. “Interesting observation.”

  Brenda shrugged. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.” She unpacked the groceries and put them away.

  Hope closed her website and walked over to the kitchen. Maybe Brenda could help get Drew an interview. When Hope was a magazine editor, she had her own gatekeeper and there were days she missed Cara. Brenda was Cal’s assistant, which meant she was technically his gatekeeper. Maybe she wouldn’t have to go directly to Cal and risk being thrown out of class.

  “I’m very grateful the workshop wasn’t cancelled. I’m learning so much. In fact, my brain hurt yesterday from all the information he gave us.” Hope leaned on the counter that separated the studio from the kitchen.

  Brenda nodded. “He likes to keep busy.” She folded the grocery bags and set them in a drawer. Her long maxi skirt flowed easily with every move she made. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her skin was bare of any makeup.

  “I can relate.” Hope knew something about throwing yourself into work to forget what life was handing you. When she found out Tim had cheated on her, she went into her kitchen and didn’t come out for days. She had over a dozen cakes and countless cookies to write about on her blog. Her kitchen, whether it was in her New York City condo or her farmhouse, was her sanctuary where she’d bake herself right.

  “I suppose you can.” Brenda exhaled a breath. “Unlike your fellow students, you know what it’s like to be thrust into the spotlight when your life unravels.”

  “I only went through a messy divorce. Cal’s wife is missing and there’s speculation swirling around him.”

  Brenda straightened, her deep chocolate brown eyes narrowed. “It’s a waste of time speculating. Cal had nothing to do with Lily’s disappearance. He loved her. He would never harm her.”

  “Oh, I don’t buy into that speculation. It’s just what I’m seeing occur in the media.”

  “Well, then the media can stuff it!”

  Hope pressed her lips together to stave off the smile ready to emerge. Brenda’s G-rated outrage and protectiveness over Cal was endearing. This was going to be harder than she expected.

  “Perhaps the media can help move the speculation off of Cal and back onto finding the truth.”

  Brenda gave Hope a pointed stare and challenged her. “How?”

  Hope couldn’t believe she was going say what was on the tip of her tongue. But Drew was her best friend and she’d do anything for him. Almost anything, within reason. Brenda’s stare intensified so she needed to get on with it.

  “An interview.”

  Brenda laughed. Not a funny ha-ha kind of laugh but a “you have to be crazy, girl” kind of laugh. “Absolutely not. Cal knows reporters will twist whatever he says. They do that!”

  “All the more reason to do an interview with a responsible reporter. There are a few good, honest reporters out there.”

  “Good morning. Isn’t it a lovely day?” Felicity bellowed as she entered the studio, with Louis trailing behind her.

  “Too darn early. Take it down a notch already, Felicity.” Louis slugged over to the table, where he dropped his camera and laptop bags. He pulled out a chair and plopped down. His clothes were rumpled, like they were yesterday. Hope wasn’t sure if he changed or if he was just sloppy.

  “I’m going to check on Cal. He should be about ready to start the class.” Brenda darted out of the studio, leaving Hope with a firm “no” on the interview. She’d have to approach Cal.

  “Louis has been crabby since we met in the lobby of the inn.” Felicity looked around. “Where did Elena go off to?”

  “Who cares?” Louis rested his head in his hands.

  “Does he have a hangover?” Hope asked.

  Felicity shrugged. “Maybe. He drank in his room last night.”

  “Did you all drive over together?” Hope headed back to her seat, with Felicity following.

  “Yes. We figured it would be easier to carpool.” Felicity wore a jersey knit wrap dress with a neckline that plunged a little low for daytime. Her hair was styled to fall in soft waves around her shoulders.

  Louis leaned back and rubbed his face. “A freakin’ rooster woke me up this morning. A rooster. Who has roosters anymore?”

  “The Merrifields. His name is Sherlock.” Hope pulled out her notebook and opened it to her notes from yesterday. Jane Merrifield and her sister-in-law, Sally, managed Jefferson’s only inn, and they liked to serve fresh eggs to their guests. Sherlock had been a staple on Main Street for years. Being a retired mystery author, Jane named her rooster after one of her favorite fictional detectives.

  Felicity, who seated herself next to Hope again, leaned over and whispered, “I saw an article online last night about your ex.”

  Of course she did. Hope inhaled a deep breath. Most of Jefferson didn’t know the celebrity website existed, and she could possibly go weeks without anyone knowing that her ex-husband was dating a supermodel. But bloggers knew what was out on the Internet. Felicity was no exception.

  “I wish him well.” Hope meant it. Well, at least she wanted to believe she was the bigger person.

  Felicity chuckled. “I’m sure he’s doing very well with that model.”

  “Sorry. I had to take a call.” Elena rushed into the studio. She claimed a seat at the table and shrugged off her cardigan. She looked a little confused as she dug into her bag and muttered under her breath.

  Hope sensed Elena had lost something.

  “I was wondering what happened to you.” Felicity pulled her camera out of its bag and cleaned the lens.

  “You know, I was thinking last night it’s rare for bloggers to get together in real life, so I thought you would all like to come over to my house for dinner one night. Nothing fancy, just good food and conversation,” Hope suggested to her classmates.

  “Sounds like fun. I’m dying to see your house,” Felicity said.

  “If you’ve got a grill, I’d be happy to cook something,” Louis offered.

  “Dinner sounds lovely,” Elena chimed in.

  They were all in. Great. They set a date and time. Hope began mentally preparing the menu while they waited for Cal to arrive. The door of the studio swung open and she expected to see Cal. Instead, Brenda marched in with a scarf in her hand. She approached Elena and extended her hand.

  “I believe you dropped this by the back door of the house,” Brenda said in a tight voice.

  Elena looked sheepish as she snatched the scarf from Brenda and tucked it into her canvas tote bag. “Do you know how much longer we have to wait?”

  Before Brenda answered, Cal strode into the studio and stopped when he reached the long table
where the bloggers were seated. Unlike the day before, he looked tired. His dark eyes were hooded and the machismo he exuded had been taken down a notch. Maybe teaching the class was too much for him, with everything else going on in his life.

  “We’re going to begin with lighting today. I’ll demonstrate first. It takes experimentation and practice to master good lighting.” Cal moved over to one of the small tables and picked up his camera. “The setup I’m using is simple because when you’re photographing in your kitchen, you’ll be limited in what you can use.”

  “With him, lighting isn’t what I’d want to master,” Felicity said in a low, throaty voice, just loud enough for Hope to hear.

  Hope shot her classmate a glance. Maybe getting together with other bloggers wasn’t such a good idea. She refocused on Cal and the workshop flew by so quickly that by the time it was end of day, she was surprised.

  Even though the class officially ended, Cal remained to answer questions. When the informal session finally broke up, Hope left the studio with the group. After setting her bags on the backseat of her SUV, she realized she’d left one of her lenses on the table in the studio. She headed back to the studio and saw Cal walking toward her with her lens in his hands.

  “Great. You have it.” She took the lens from Cal.

  “How are you enjoying the class so far?”

  “I have to admit, I’m a little overwhelmed, but it’s amazing. I’m learning so much.”

  “It’s hard to teach everything in a short period of time. With that said, I think everyone in the class had a good grasp on the fundamentals and implementing just a few of my suggestions will definitely improve everyone’s photographs.” Cal fell into step with Hope as she walked back to her vehicle. “I was a little nervous about teaching the class.”

  “You? The great Cal Barnhart? Nervous?” Hope reached her SUV and slid the lens into its pocket in her camera bag. She’d met Cal years ago while working for the magazine Meals in Minutes. He’d done some freelance work, but it wasn’t until she had more time to talk to him at a food blogging conference she’d learned he lived in Jefferson. Small world. Despite her move back to town, she didn’t have the opportunity catch up with him. His schedule had him traveling all over the country for photo shoots.