He scowled at the plate. “Who the hell are you?”
Oh, boy. Her best tool was failing her big-time. “Hope Early. I live in town. I heard you have some antique signs and I’m looking for one. I’m renovating an old house, and I want to fill it with treasures. I hear you have a lot of treasures.”
If she wasn’t scared right down to her toes, she would have been proud of herself for working her plan.
“What kind of cookies did you say they were?” His scowl softened as he reached for the plate. He wrapped his fat fingers around the plate.
“Lemon Ricotta Cookies.” Her voice broke as the plate was ripped out of her hand. “They’re one of my favorite recipes. I’m sure you’ll like them.”
Hans pulled back the plastic wrap and grabbed a cookie. He took a bite and chewed. His scowl completely disappeared as he finished the cookie.
Hope chided herself for doubting the power of a cookie.
“Not bad.”
Not bad? Really?
“My late wife used to bake cookies.” Hans replaced the plastic wrap and set the plate on a surface beside the door. Hope couldn’t see much beyond Hans, but the glimpse she stole revealed more clutter inside. “I have a few signs you may be interested in.”
He stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind him. His large frame practically filled the space of the small porch.
They were in close quarters, too close for Hope, who turned and descended the porch steps, with Hans following her. She worried their combined weight on those treads would collapse them. Once they were safely off the porch, he took the lead and led Hope around the side of the house. Situated on the property were several small buildings, all in similar condition to the house. As she followed, she watched her step. There was junk littered all over the property—empty containers, piles of lumber mixed with overgrown weeds, and ripped tarps covering mounds of stuff Hope couldn’t see. In the distance there were a few old rusty cars. She could understand Lily’s frustration toward Hans for neglecting his property.
“You’re probably too young to remember Tad’s.” Hans stopped at a clump of old signs and began digging through.
“Gas station, right?”
“Up and down the Post Road.” The Boston Post Road was a main thoroughfare in its day and was America’s first mail route. “Tad’s was one of this area’s first gas stations. The last one closed in the mid-sixties.” He dragged out a sign. “This is a nineteen thirties enamel porcelain sign.”
Hope inched closer to inspect the sign. In its prime, it must have looked magnificent hanging on the side of a gas station. Now, exposed to the elements, it was battered and its luster had faded. Though, still in one piece, with no other damage than the weather, it was still a great find.
Hans set the sign aside and pulled out another. “This one is from the same era. Enamel porcelain die cut. These are rare.”
Rare meant expensive. “They’re awesome. You have a lot of great stuff here.”
“Most people think it’s junk.” Hans took a sweeping look around. “It’s my collection of history from this area. Like a museum.”
Hope looked around. Were they looking at the same piece of property? Selling that place as a museum would be a hard sell. And apparently Lily didn’t buy it when she heard him plead his case.
“You mean like the P&Z Commission?”
Hans let go of the sign and it dropped to the ground. Hope cringed, worried the sign would be damaged. When she looked back up to Hans’s face, she saw it had turned red and his dark eyes had hooded with anger. Oh, boy.
“Yeah. They gave me sixty days to clean up this place. It ain’t right! The government telling you what to do with your property!”
“Lily Barnhart told you to clean it up, right?”
Hans’s nostrils flared. “She had no business telling me what to do. She’s some fancy-pants architect. She had a vision of what my land and home could look like. Guess she wanted my place to look like all my neighbors’.”
“Mrs. Barnhart disappeared three weeks ago.”
He scratched his head. “You don’t say?”
“She was found dead two days ago.”
Hans’s body stiffened and a deeper shade of red crept up his neck to his face. “What?”
Hope jumped, startled by the loud, angry voice. She trembled as warning screams went off in her head to turn around and run. Run fast! She was foolish to confront Hans on her own. No one knew where she was, and a quick glance around revealed she could easily be disposed of and not found for a very long time. Especially if Hans refused to clean up his property.
“You think I had something to do with her death? You’ve got a lot of nerve, lady. Get the hell off my property!” Hans stalked toward his house and disappeared inside, slamming the door behind him.
It took Hope a few moments to regain her composure. When her nerves settled, albeit frayed, she turned and retraced her steps back to the front gate. She fumbled to undo the latch and crossed over to the concrete sidewalk, back to civilization. A feeling of safety flushed through her, and she exhaled a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Before she continued to her car, she glanced over her shoulder for one last look at Hans Vogel’s property.
He was a scary man with a reason to harm Lily. But she wasn’t the only one. There were four other commission members and they could be in danger since they all voted to force Hans to either clean up his property or lose possession of it. They needed to be warned.
She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and tapped on the Internet app. She typed the address of Jefferson’s website and when the site loaded, she searched for the P&Z Commission page, where she found the listing of members. Maybe she could discreetly inquire if any one of them had received a threat.
There was only one name vaguely familiar to Hope. Donna Wilcox. She was the mom of a friend from elementary school. Hope played at the Wilcox house all the time until the family moved to Boston. She’d lost contact with her friend, but Donna had returned to Jefferson the year Hope moved to New York City. They hadn’t spoken in years, and it was time to catch up with her. With her plan set, she began walking to her car, but a car horn caught her attention.
She glanced up as a Lexus eased into a space by the curb. She squared her shoulders and gave herself a mental slap for being distracted because this was how women were abducted right off the street. She came to a stop. Was that how Lily was snatched right out of her life?
The passenger window rolled down and, much to Hope’s relief, she saw Matt Roydon.
“Hey there,” he said with a big smile.
She walked to the vehicle, relieved to see a friendly face. The handsome criminal defense attorney wouldn’t be kidnapping her anytime soon, though being swept off her feet by him didn’t sound like such a bad idea at the moment.
Whoa! Claire’s attempt at matchmaking was messing with Hope’s common sense and her resolve to stay romance neutral. She and Matt were friendly, that was all. “I heard you put an offer on a house.”
“I’m waiting to hear back. They counteroffered.” Matt looked every bit the successful attorney enjoying a day off. The sleeves of his dark blue shirt were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms. He was tanned and his brown hair seemed a shade lighter from time out in the sun. The last time Hope had seen him was at her housewarming party when he brought her a dozen roses.
“Nail-biting, isn’t it?”
“You know, with my job, I have to face a jury of twelve people and make a case for my client’s innocence, but it’s nothing compared to waiting to hear back about an offer on a house.”
Hope shrugged. “It’s an emotional thing. The house represents so much more than just shelter. I hope you get it.”
“Me too. So, what are you doing here?” His gaze traveled over Hope’s shoulder to Hans Vogel’s property and probably landed on the NO TRESPASSING sign.
Hope hesitated before answering. “I’m looking for antique signs.” She wasn�
�t technically lying, but she was omitting some, okay, a lot of the truth.
“Huh.” He studied her like the criminal defense attorney he was.
His gaze swept over her, looking into her eyes, checking her facial expressions and traveling down to her hands, one of which was holding her cell phone. He even glanced at her feet. In a nanosecond, he was sizing her up, based on body language, to tell if she was being honest. How dare he not believe her. She was offended by his lack of trust. Whoa. Time to get off her high horse since she was being less than truthful about her reason for being there.
“You didn’t find any you liked?”
She cringed at his tone. He knew she wasn’t telling him everything. So, why start telling the truth now?
She shook her head. “No. Too pricey.”
He leaned over the console between the two front leather seats. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she answered swiftly. Too swiftly, she realized. No doubt he suspected she was up to something.
“Do you want to tell me what you’re really doing here?”
“I did. I was looking at antique signs.” And getting thrown off a potential killer’s property after bringing him cookies.
“You know, a part of my job includes cross-examining people, and I’m a pretty good people reader.”
“I’m sure you are.” Hope pressed her lips together as she shoved a lock of hair behind her ear. No doubt the fidgeting was a huge red flag for the attorney. She desperately wanted to remain still.
“Since you won’t share the whole truth now, how about we have dinner soon? When I come back to town for the closing, I’ll give you a call.”
“It’s good you’re confident.”
“I met their counteroffer.”
“No, I was talking about going out to dinner.” Hope smiled as she stepped back onto the curb and waved good-bye to Matt, who shook his head and laughed.
He shifted his vehicle into gear and drove off. Her phone buzzed, notifying her that she’d received a text message. She swiped the home screen and found a message from Drew.
Meet Jane & me at Village Shop Ctr. ASAP.
Hope frowned. What was going on over there? She tapped her reply.
What’s up?
Drew fired back an immediate response.
Will explain when you get here.
She thought for a moment and decided she’d go see Donna Wilcox after she found out what was going on at the shopping center. She replied back.
On my way.
Chapter Thirteen
Jane waved Hope to an available parking space while Drew talked on his phone. After she navigated into the tight spot, with inches to spare between a hybrid and a minivan, she climbed out of her SUV and joined her friends beside a chain-link fence. Beyond the fence was an empty lot. On one side of the lot was the shopping center and on the other was a daycare center.
“What are we doing here?” The question came out harsher than Hope intended and she immediately regretted it. She was still agitated by her visit to Hans Vogel, and Drew’s cryptic text message had added to her edginess.
“Is everything okay, dear? You seem tense.” Jane’s brows pinched with concern.
Drew removed his pair of aviator sunglasses and lowered his phone. He didn’t give Hope a chance to reply to Jane. “This is the property Whitcomb wants to develop for a medical building.” Dressed in a pair of white-rinsed jeans and a half-tucked pale green shirt, he looked casual yet polished and ready for any assignment.
“I know,” she snapped. Hope needed to get a grip so she silently counted to ten. “I’m sorry.”
“And the vote to proceed with the building was postponed by the P&Z Commission,” Jane added, so as to not be left out. She wore a turquoise floral dress with a coordinating cardigan. The color of the dress brought out her blue eyes.
Drew cast a sideways glance onto Jane and cleared his throat. “Now the concern is the impact on traffic because the medial offices would bring patients from surrounding towns. The vote was postponed because Whitcomb had to perform a few more fact-finding processes.”
“Like a traffic study,” Jane added.
Hope suppressed a laugh when Drew huffed. No doubt he was irritated Jane stole his thunder. She was starting to feel better and was eager to join the conversation. “Any idea how Lily was leaning regarding the vote?”
She walked closer to the lot, which was cleared for as far as the eye could see. Butted up against the busy shopping center, it was a prime location. The impact on increased traffic would be offset by the money the medical building could bring to the town, with increased business at the shopping center by employees and patients and the all-important property tax.
Drew looked to Jane before answering and she nodded her head, giving Drew the go-ahead. “No. Like everyone else on the commission, she asked a lot of hard questions. I think at one meeting I actually saw him squirm.”
“Now, that must have been a sight,” Jane said.
Hope laughed. “I need to get to one of those meetings.” She would’ve loved to see Whitcomb in the hot seat for a change. The man was a blowhard and had gotten several free passes from the town for development in the past. It was about time he was challenged.
“You should. The last one with Hans Vogel was awesome. You should’ve seen him. He exploded at Lily.” Drew’s eyes bugged out and he gestured vividly with his hands. “It was as if his mind was blown.”
“So I’ve heard.” Hope dipped her head to avoid making eye contact. Drew didn’t know she’d planned on visiting Hans.
“You know, I should go talk to him,” Drew said.
Hope crinkled her nose and lifted her chin. “Maybe not now.”
“Why, dear?” Jane asked.
“Yeah, why?” Drew chimed in.
“He’s in a bad mood.” Hope walked along the fencing and stared off into the distance. Just a few weeks ago, the rumbling sounds of heavy earthmoving equipment roared but now there were large piles of dirt and a big hole waiting for the foundation to be poured. Could Lily have been killed because of a piece of property?
“When isn’t he in a bad mood?” Jane followed Hope.
“What did you do?” Drew asked.
Hope stopped walking and turned around. “I just came from his place. I visited him with a plate of cookies.” She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the dynamic duo’s reaction.
Jane reached out a hand and put it on Hope’s arm. Hope opened her eyes and saw Jane’s lips curve into a proud smile. “That’s my girl.”
Of course Jane would be proud of her. Give her a few seconds and she’d be comparing Hope’s gumption to her fictional sleuth, Barbara O’Neill. Jane created Barbara, a curious college coed who solved mysteries, before she married. She’d written a total of five books before she retired from writing to raise her family. Even after all these years, Jane still had a nose for mystery and encouraged Hope to investigate. But the truth was, Hope didn’t need that much encouragement.
“Everett told me about the meeting and how upset Hans was, so I went to talk to him about the vote. It didn’t go well.”
“Duh!” Drew threw his arms up in the air and held them there for a long moment.
“I know. I know. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I really didn’t think about it. I just went.”
“With a plate of cookies?” Drew asked.
“Lemon Ricotta.”
“You had a feeling and you acted upon it. That’s exactly what Barbara O’Neill would have done in her book,” Jane said.
Almost a personal best for Jane. Though, Hope wasn’t sure how healthy it was to be compared to a fictional sleuth.
“You know, if Reid finds out, he’s not going to be happy.” Drew brought the conversation back to reality and it hit Hope like a rock.
“When Hope solves this case, he’ll be thanking her. Dear, do you think Hans is the killer?” Jane linked arms with Hope, and all three began walking away from the fence.
After c
hecking his phone, Drew slipped it into his pants pocket. “He has motive and he can’t possibly have an alibi since he’s a recluse.”
“I don’t know. He’s angry enough.” Hope replayed the encounter with the recluse over in her mind. “He doesn’t strike me as the type of person to plan something.” She saw the confusion on Drew’s and Jane’s faces. “Lily was abducted and then found dead in Peggy’s house. So, the killer had to grab Lily, probably killed her right away, then somehow hid her in Peggy’s house and returned later to set the house on fire. No, Hans seems more like the type to grab, kill, and leave the body.”
She shocked herself by saying that stream of consciousness thought out loud. When did she turn into the person who so matter-of-factly discussed murder?
“I believe you’re right. What do you think?” Jane looked to Drew.
Drew sighed. “If not Hans, then who?”
“Kent Wilder?” Hope tossed out his name because, since her conversation with Claire earlier, she was curious how much he had to gain by Lily’s death. “He wanted this listing.” She pointed a finger at the lot. “We need to find out how Lily intended to vote on this project.”
“How are we going to do that?” Jane asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m going to see Donna Wilcox to ask if she knew how Lily was going to vote. Perhaps they discussed the vote. I also want to find out if she received any threats, because if Lily’s death is tied to the commission, all of the members could be in danger.”
“Just be careful. If they’re targets, any one of them could be next. Why don’t we meet up later for dinner and you can fill us in on what you learn,” Jane suggested.
Drew pulled out his cell phone. “My appointment just got rescheduled. Great.” He looked up from the phone. “I’ll follow you over there.”
“Maybe it’s better if I talk to Donna alone. Both of us confronting her could be a little overwhelming.... Oh, don’t pout. I’ll tell you whatever she tells me.”
The Hidden Corpse Page 12
