Hannah stared down at the photo for a long moment, her brow wrinkled in thought. “This picture’s got to have something to do with Boyd’s murder, but I’m not quite sure what.”
“I don’t know either, unless…” Andrea’s voice trailed off, and her face turned pale. “Do you think that Lucy… I mean, if Boyd wouldn’t pay her and she got mad at him, she… she wouldn’t kill him, would she?”
“Not a chance,” Hannah reassured her. “Lucy’s short and Boyd was tall.”
“So?”
“The blow that killed Boyd came from above. Lucy would have had to stand on a stepstool to hit him over the head with that much force.”
“Okay. I can see that. But what if Boyd was kneeling and begging for mercy?”
“From Lucy? Boyd outweighed her by a hundred pounds, and we already know he wasn’t squeamish about hitting women. If he’d thought that he was in danger, he would have grabbed Lucy, hammer and all, and thrown her up against the wall.”
“True. But maybe Lucy tricked him into kneeling. If she dropped something, and it rolled under the car, Boyd could have been trying to get it back for her.”
“That doesn’t play either,” Hannah informed her. “There were oil spots on the garage floor and Boyd was wearing light gray pants. If he’d been down on the floor, he would have had oil stains on the knees of his pants.”
Andrea breathed a big sigh of relief. “I’m glad you told me that, Hannah. For a second there, I thought we might be searching the apartment of a murd…”
“Shh!” Hannah grabbed her arm to hush her. “I hear something!”
“Another woodpecker?”
“Not this time.”
Both sisters held their breath, listening intently. They heard the sound of faint footsteps and Hannah turned to her sister. “It’s Vera. She’s coming up the inside staircase.”
“She must have heard us walking around up here.” Andrea looked panic-stricken. “We’re going to get caught, Hannah!”
“No, we’re not. Go hide in the closet. I’ll be with you in a second.” Hannah gave Andrea a little shove. “Hurry!”
Hannah gathered up the evidence they’d found, shoved it back in the hidden compartment, and replaced the drawer. Then she grabbed their coats, their caps, and the bag of cookies she’d brought and ran for the closet as fast as he could. If Vero Olsen caught them up here, she’d call Bill and Mike to report it. Andrea would get off with a slap on the wrist. Both Bill and Mike would believe that Hannah had been the instigator. But when Mike found out that Hannah had ignored his warning and was actively meddling in his case, he’d lock her up and melt down the key.
Chapter Eleven
“She doesn’t know we’re here,” Hannah whispered, pushing aside the long red skirt that was brushing up against her face.
“How do you know that?”
“If Vera thought we were burglars, she would have called the sheriff’s station from downstairs.”
Andrea was silent for a moment, then whispered back, “You’re right. There’s now way a woman Mother’s age would confront a burglar herself.”
Hannah grinned in the dim light that filtered in from the far end of Lucy’s closet where a small window had been installed. Vera Olsen claimed to be fifty, but Hannah had seen her picture in the old 1957 Jordan High yearbook she’d paged through at the school library. Unless Vera had taken a decade to complete her senior year, she was a lot closer to sixty than fifty. But if Vera chose to lie about her age, Hannah wasn’t about to bust her for it.
Lucy’s closet door was made of knotty pine, and Hannah poked Andrea and motioned toward a handy knothole. She found another for herself, and both sisters peered out to see what Vera would do. The door next to Lucy’s bed opened and Vera stepped in with a smile on her face. She wouldn’t be smiling if she thought that she was about to confront a burglar, and Hannah knew they were safe, at least for the present.
Vera crossed the floor and headed straight for Lucy’s computer, which was sitting on a table just opposite the closet. She flicked on the switch, fired up the monitor, and sat down in Lucy’s chair with her back toward them.
Andrea nudged Hannah. She was wearing a puzzled expression, and Hannah answered with a shrug. Then Hannah pointed to her eye and Andrea nodded her response. Their dialogue was complete without words.
What is she doing, Hannah?
I don’t know. We’ll have to watch and see.
Okay.
Vera hummed a little tune as the computer went through its warm-up. Since the room was narrow and Lucy’s seventeen-inch monitor was sitting on top of the CPU, Hannah and Andrea could see the screen perfectly.
Once the warm-up was complete, Vera used Lucy’s mouse to click on the Internet provider icon. There was the sound of a dial tone and the number was dialed automatically with a series of musical beeps. There was a burst of static and another few beeps as Vera was connected, and then a computer-generated voice said, “Welcome Hot Stuff. You’ve got mail.”
Andrea slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle, and Hannah swallowed hard. The thought of Vera as “Hot Stuff” was enough to make both of them quake with silent laughter. Vera clicked on the mail icon and a message appeared on the screen. It was in large block letters and the two sisters could barely contain their mirth as they read it.
HELLO HOT STUFF—YOU ASKED FOR A PICTURE. HERE IT IS. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS CLICK DOWNLOAD. HOW ABOUT ONE FROM YOU? I’LL BE CALLING YOU TONIGHT TO HEAR YOUR SWEET VOICE OVER THE PHONE. LOVE YOU BABY, SILVER WOLF.
As they watched, Vera downloaded the picture and a photo of a man with silver hair appeared on the screen. He was smiling at the camera and waving from the deck of an expensive-looking sailboat. Vera turned on Lucy’s color printer and printed it out, snatching it from the tray with a smile. Then she hit the button to reply and typed in a message.
I’LL SEND YOU MY PICTURE TOMORROW. I HAVE TO FIND JUST THE RIGHT ONE. I PROMISE I’LL BE WAITING BY THE PHONE FOR YOUR CALL. LOVE YOU TOO, HOT STUFF.
Hannah didn’t risk glancing at Andrea for fear she’d lose it. Vera Olsen, a woman she hadn’t even known was computer literate, was carrying on an online romance.
Once Vera had deleted her personal message and shut down Lucy’s system, she walked across the floor with a spring in her step and Silver Wolf’s picture in her hand. She opened the door, stepped through, and closed it behind her with a click.
Neither Hannah nor Andrea said a word as they listened to Vera’s receding footsteps. When they were certain that she’d gone back downstairs, Hannah nudged Andrea. They emerged from the closet, glanced at each other, and promptly burst into a volley of laughter.
“Do you think Vera’s really going to send Silver Wolf her picture?” Andrea asked.
“Why not? She looks good for her age.”
“She’d look even better if she got her roots touched up.”
“Maybe she will.” Hannah chuckled. Leave it to Andrea to notice something like that. “Come on. It’s only seven thirty-five, but why take chances? Let’s grab the evidence and get out of here.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Won’t Lucy notice that it’s missing?”
“Of course she will, but she won’t know who took it. And she can’t very well complain that it’s been stolen.”
Andrea started to grin. “I guess not. She’d have to explain how she got it in the first place. How about the money? Are you taking that, too?”
“Absolutely. It doesn’t belong to Lucy. I’m going to return it to the contestant’s husband and give him a lecture about trying to bribe a judge.”
