The Uninvited Corpse

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Why did you kill Peaches?” Hope asked.

  “Because she finally tracked me down. She spent years searching for the driver of the car, and she found me. But first, she decided to taunt me. She began sending those clippings anonymously. Then notes started to come, letting me know I was found out. That I had little time as a free woman. She was going to the police. But I wasn’t going to prison. I wasn’t going to have my picture on the front page of newspapers or be fodder on those ridiculous talk shows.”

  “That’s why she came here the day of the tour?”

  Audrey nodded. “I met her in here, and she told me she was going to call the cops so I would be arrested and led out in front of everybody. She had it all planned out. I let her believe I would turn myself in, then I returned from the outside and bashed her head with a rock.”

  Audrey’s voice was callous and emotionless, and it sent chills down Hope’s spine. She stepped back but stopped when Audrey waved the gun, signaling for Hope to stay still.

  “What about Vanessa? Why did you kill her?”

  “She was always curious, wasn’t she? She found those clippings and asked about them. She did an Internet search and put it together. I had to stop her from going to the police. Just like I have to stop you.”

  “What? I . . . I’m not going to go to the police,” Hope lied. She was willing to say anything to get away from Audrey.

  “Of course you are. You’re such a Goody Two-shoes.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “Sticks and stones . . .”

  “You’re not going to get away with this.” But yet, Hope had no plan to stop Audrey. Why couldn’t she think of a way out? If she made a run for the patio doors, Audrey could shoot her. If she made a run for the door to the hallway, she’d have to take Audrey on physically, and Audrey had a gun. That damn gun.

  “We’re going to take a walk outside. There’s a lovely spot that’s perfect for you to die in. I hope you agree.” Audrey gestured for Hope to turn around and walk toward the patio door. “I wasn’t expecting to have to do this. So I’ll need some time to figure out how to frame Claire for your murder. I guess I’ll work out the details after my dinner date with Harrison.”

  Hope followed Audrey’s instructions. What choice did she have? Audrey had the advantage over her. Where on earth did Audrey get the gun? Did it belong to Harrison? Was it loaded? Hope wasn’t about to play Russian roulette to find out. Rather, she’d focus on figuring a way to escape. Her life depended upon it.

  Audrey moved closer to Hope and shoved her forward to start walking. “Once we’re outside go straight.”

  Anger and betrayal and hurt boiled inside of Hope, and she threw concocting a plan out the window. In one swooping motion, she stopped, leaned forward, and came back up with a sharp elbow into Audrey’s midsection. A scream pierced Hope’s ear. She dashed toward the patio door, but Audrey was right behind her.

  Grabbed by her hair, Hope was yanked back, and the sound of gun cocking rattled her to her core. She stumbled backward, losing her balance, and her hand just missed the doorknob of the patio door.

  Damn!

  They both landed on the floor with a thump. The gun discharged. The loud bang rattled through Hope’s body. But she wasn’t shot. Her hands weren’t on the gun. They still gripped Audrey’s arms. Audrey didn’t have the gun in her hands, either. Where did it go? No time to find out. She had one chance to escape. She was going to get out of the house—fast!

  Before she could fully stand up, Audrey grabbed her leg and pulled her back to the floor. Hope landed on top of Audrey and, in a blur, Hope was tossed over. Audrey straddled her now and they struggled while Audrey stretched her arm to reach the gun that lay just inches from them on the floor.

  Hope needed the gun. She tried to lift her arm, but Audrey had her pinned. She squeezed her eyes shut and, with every ounce of strength, she tried to unbalance Audrey by rocking her body.

  Audrey cursed as she fought to remain steady as she extended her upper body to allow her fingertips to reach the gun. Audrey leaned back and a triumphant smile curved on her lips. But it was quickly replaced by a look of shock.

  “What the . . .” Audrey called out as she tumbled off Hope’s body.

  A blur of fur flew over Hope and a guttural growl filled the air.

  “Get him off me!”

  Hope struggled to sit up and saw Bigelow on top of Audrey. She didn’t know where he came from, and she didn’t care. She scrambled to her feet and dove for the gun.

  “Bigelow!” she called.

  The dog snapped to attention.

  “Come, boy.”

  The brown dog trotted away from his conquest and over to Hope’s side. Her shaky hands held the gun on Audrey, who lay on the floor bleeding from her head. Keeping the gun pointed on Audrey, Hope moved to the desk. Bigelow stood where he was, keeping an alert eye on Audrey.

  Before she could dial 911 again, she heard sirens approaching and relief flooded through her. The first officer on the scene entered the study and directed Hope to put down the gun. She obeyed, happy to be rid of the weapon, and was escorted out of the room by a second officer. She was taken to the living room with Bigelow.

  She sat on the edge of the sofa with Bigelow settled next to her. His pink tongue slobbered her tear-stained cheek. She smiled and hugged the dog.

  “You saved my life, big guy. You’re going to have a lifetime supply of homemade dog biscuits.” She cupped his face with her hands and kissed him on the head.

  A sound drew her attention from Bigelow to the doorway and she glanced over.

  Ethan.

  She’d never been so happy to see him before. A sudden urge to run to him hit her hard, but she couldn’t move because she feared she’d just collapse. Her body still trembled, and she doubted her ability to control her movements. Her ears still rung from the gunshot, and her head pounded. All in all, staying seated was the best option for her.

  “Are you okay?” He rushed to Hope’s side, stretching one arm along the back of the sofa. He wore a pair of jeans and a fisherman’s sweater, which he always looked relaxed and rested in. But not at that moment. He looked tense, and worry was etched all over his face.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “For what?”

  She looked him and up down. “It’s your day off and now you have . . .” Her words trailed off as tears flowed down her cheek.

  “Hey, it’s my casual Friday look.” He grinned.

  “It’s not Friday,” she replied.

  “No, it’s not.” He lifted his hand and pushed back a lock of her hair and tucked it behind her ear and as his hand fell away. It caressed her check, gently wiping away the tears.

  She smiled. Ethan was trying to lighten the moment, and she appreciated the effort.

  “She killed them. She told me so, and she was going to kill me. She’s crazy. If it weren’t for Bigelow, I don’t know if I would have gotten away from her.” Her struggle with Audrey on the floor flashed in her mind. The weight of Audrey on top of her, the fight for the gun, and those agonizing moments of not knowing if she’d be killed overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face. She wiped them with a tissue an officer had handed her earlier. She couldn’t even imagine how she looked. Her eyes must have been puffy and red, smeared with mascara and eye makeup, not to mention her hair, which had to look like a rat’s nest, thanks to rolling around the floor with a psychotic killer. Thinking about how she looked seemed superficial since she had almost been murdered, but it was the safest thing to think about.

  “Hey.” Ethan gently tilted her chin up with his forefinger. “Look at me.”

  She met his dark eyes.

  They held the gaze for a moment before he said, “Thank God you’re safe. I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you.” His voice was low and husky and comforting. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him, and she went willingly.

  She pre
ssed against his chest, the steadiness of his heartbeat lulling her into a calmness she desperately needed. All of the bad things that had just happened faded away. She closed her eyes, shutting away the whole world and feeling safe for the first time in a long time.

  “Excuse me, Chief.”

  Hope opened one eye, spied Detective Reid standing under the arched doorway, and frowned. She should have known he’d show up on the scene. She opened her other eye as she pulled herself out of Ethan’s embrace. A chill wiggled through her body. And she disliked the detective a little bit more. Bigelow wasted no time in snuggling up to her. He laid his head on her lap. The sweetness of the dog nearly melted her heart.

  “I have a few questions for Ms. Early, if you don’t mind,” Detective Reid said.

  A flicker of irritation flashed on Ethan’s face. He stood and walked over to his detective, rested his hands on his hips, and glanced back over at Hope. “I think she should be examined by a doctor before any questioning.”

  “Ethan, I’m okay. Audrey didn’t hurt me.” Hope was eager to do whatever she needed to in order to get home and sink into a hot tub for an extended stay.

  “I appreciate your willingness to cooperate, Ms. Early.” The detective flipped open his notepad. “Before we begin, I want to read you your rights.”

  “What?” Hope leaned forward, jerking Bigelow up.

  “It’s only a formality, I assure you,” the detective said.

  “Formality? The woman tried to kill me. She had a gun and was pointing it at me. She told me she was going to kill me!” Hope exclaimed.

  “Hope, I really think you should let the ambulance take you to the hospital before you make any further statements,” Ethan said.

  Detective Reid glanced at Ethan, his expression unreadable.

  Hope inched to the edge of the sofa. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Unfortunately, Mrs. Bloom is unconscious and I’m unable to ask her any questions that would verify your story—”

  “My story?” Hope asked.

  “I will interview her as soon as I am able to. Until then, I need to follow the evidence.”

  Yeah, she’d heard that before, and her sister ended up arrested for murder. Hope was beyond confused. Detective Reid didn’t believe Audrey confessed to the murders and had tried to kill Hope. In his law-and-order mind, he probably thought Hope concocted the whole story to frame Audrey for the murders Claire committed. Looking at him now, his expression was very readable.

  “I’m telling you Audrey admitted everything. Hitting Mrs. McCoy with her car, killing Peaches because Peaches was going to turn her in, and killing Vanessa because she stumbled upon the truth. I can’t believe this is happening. She had a gun!”

  “From what we can ascertain at this time, the Blooms own that gun legally. Ms. Early, it is quite possible you were the assailant here and Mrs. Bloom was just protecting herself. After all, I understand you have been entering homes under false pretenses to search the premises,” Detective Reid said.

  “That’s crazy!” Hope rubbed her face with her hands, pushing her hair off her face.

  How did this get all twisted around?

  Detective Reid stepped forward, heading for the chair opposite the sofa. “It’s plausible, and I need to interview you and Mrs. Bloom.”

  “Ethan?” She looked at him. He had to stop Reid.

  “We do need to know exactly what happened here, however, you are under no obligation to talk to the police as you can refuse or seek legal counsel first. I do think since you were involved in an altercation with Mrs. Bloom, you should be examined by a doctor before saying anything further.” Ethan approached Hope and guided her up by her arm. “I will call Claire for you and have her meet you at the hospital.”

  “Maybe she should bring Matt with her and maybe I should stop talking.” Hope let Ethan escort her out of the living room. Was this what Matt meant by there was a chance she could do more harm than good?

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Hope’s feet slapped the pavement. Her rhythm kept by a soundtrack she created for her moderate run. Five days after Audrey confessed to Hope about the murders, Harrison had packed his bags and Bigelow’s, too. He decided to leave Jefferson while the divorce proceedings began, and he didn’t want the dog. Hope offered to take him and give him a home.

  For her first run with her new companion, she lowered the intensity so they both could get used to running together. She wasn’t sure how it would work out, but Bigelow kept pace with her, his ears flapping and his eyes focused on the road. He’d been trained to run by Audrey, and Hope wondered, as they came to the end of their three miles, if he was disappointed by the shorter run. Glancing at her running buddy, he didn’t look unhappy.

  Hope checked her fitness tracker as they both waited at the intersection of Hartford Road and Main Street for a break in the mid-morning traffic to cross. Her heart rate was exactly where it needed to be, and she’d hit her calorie burn goal. Which meant she could hit The Coffee Clique for a latte. When the two-lane road was clear of traffic, she whistled to Bigelow and tugged on his leash, picked up her pace, and dashed across the road. Safely on the sidewalk, she returned to walking. She looked down at the dog again. She liked having him with her on the run. She felt as if she owed the dog a debt since he saved her life, and she loved him. She worried he wouldn’t adjust easily to his new home, but from the moment Harrison dropped him off, with all of his toys, his bed, and a case of food, the dog seemed to settle in easily.

  Hope and Bigelow reached the front door of The Coffee Clique, and then she realized she couldn’t take a dog inside the coffee shop. Standing there, jonesing for a latte, she tried to figure out a solution.

  “Why do you still have him?”

  Hope swung her head. Claire was crossing Main Street from the real estate office.

  Solution found. “Oh, hi. I’m glad to see you.”

  Bigelow lunged forward, and then jumped on Claire.

  Hope pulled on the leash. The last thing she needed was Bigelow messing up Claire’s tweed skirt or silk blouse. “No, Bigelow!”

  Claire sighed and rolled her eyes as she pushed the dog down. When Bigelow was back on all fours, Claire brushed away any dirt that might have transferred to her clothing. “If you must keep him, you really should get him trained.”

  “He likes you.” Hope smiled as she patted his head.

  “I know a trainer you can hire. I just sold him a house.”

  “He’s just excitable. He’ll calm down. Soon.” Hope mustered as much confidence as she could in her new pet. But she wasn’t sure. She’d never owned a dog before and wasn’t sure if Bigelow would grow out of his extended puppyhood mentality. Maybe he would just take longer to mature. She definitely needed to get some books on dogs and that trainer’s number.

  “Do you want a latte?” Claire pulled open the front door of the shop.

  Hope nodded. “And a cup of water for Bigelow?”

  Claire threw a skeptical glance over her shoulder then nodded before stepping inside the shop. Hope squatted to meet Bigelow eye to eye. “Don’t worry. She’ll warm up to you. But you do need to have some manners around her.”

  Bigelow replied with a deep bark, followed by a low, steady growl.

  He was so soft and warm and sweet, so when he growled and his body tensed, she was surprised. Hope stared at him and wondered what was wrong. His light brown eyes were fixated on something behind her. She looked over her shoulder. Detective Reid was approaching. Great. She stood, turned, and braced herself for more grief from the detective who followed the evidence. Though, she’d do as Matt told her to do—say nothing.

  “Good morning, Ms. Early.” He joined her and Bigelow. “I heard Mr. Bloom had given you his dog. Is he adjusting well?”

  Bigelow let out another bark.

  Hope pressed her lips together to keep the smile that tugged from spreading. For what he lacked in manners, he made up for in taste. Clearly, he didn’t care for the detectiv
e.

  “Yes, he’s adjusting well. Don’t let us keep you.” Hope gestured to the front door of The Coffee Clique.

  “You’re not. But since I’ve run into you, I thought I might take this opportunity to give you an update on the investigation.”

  “My attorney told me not to speak to you.” She stroked Bigelow’s head, hoping it would calm him. The last thing she needed was for the dog to lunge and attack the detective. That would be wrong. Right?

  Bigelow glanced upward as if to say, “No worries, I’m a lover not a fighter.” He settled next to her, his compact but solid body resting against her leg.

  The front door of the shop opened and Claire exited with a tray of two lattes and one cup of water. She came to a fast stop when she saw the detective.

  “She’s not supposed to be speaking with you. Neither of us are.” Claire’s words were clipped.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to speak to me. I’ll do the talking.”

  Hope wasn’t surprised by that statement. “What do you have to tell me?”

  “I’ve concluded my investigation, and this morning Mrs. Bloom will be arraigned for the murders of Mary Beth McCoy, Peaches McCoy, and Vanessa Jordan.”

  “Excuse me?” Hope wasn’t sure she’d heard the detective correctly.

  “Audrey finally confessed?” Claire asked.

  “Yes, she eventually did. There was mounting evidence against her, and the fact we found her fingerprint on the seat adjustment of the van she stole from Wallace Green seemed to leave her no choice but to confess. Criminals often overlook the smallest details.” Detective Reid shoved his hands into his pants pockets and looked proud of himself for closing the case. The mounting evidence he was taking credit for was uncovered by Hope, but she wasn’t holding her breath for a thank-you from him.

  “One fingerprint somewhere it shouldn’t have been. Wow.” Hope took in the news. Relief, vindication, and joy whirled. She knew all along her sister was innocent and proving it almost got her killed before almost getting arrested. She was sure Reid wanted to slap handcuffs on her right there at the Bloom house the day Audrey attacked her and it was only because of Ethan he didn’t. Having her examined by a doctor in the emergency room allowed enough time for Matt Roydon to arrive and intercept an official interview.