'Greg told her he'd be staying with her temporarily, just until Annette found a house in Colorado, but some legal papers came for him from a family law firm in Denver. Mrs. Canfield thinks that they were divorce papers.'
'She's probably right. I met Annette and she didn't strike me as the type to stick around when the money got tight.'
'I know. I guess Greg just wasn't successful enough for her.'
'But he was,' Andrea objected. 'His store was making money. I know that for a fact.'
'Then Greg didn't go broke?'
'No. His store had record sales in December. One of his clerks told me that they outsold all the other stores in the mall. That's why I don't understand why Greg lost his lease. It just doesn't make sense.'
'Why not?'
'Because the mall charges rent, but they also take a small percentage of the profits from each store. Why would the mall refuse to renew Greg's lease if his store was making extra money for them?'
'I don't know,' Hannah said and she began to frown. 'That's like cutting off your nose to spite your face, unless . . .'
'Unless what?'
'Unless the mall manager had bigger fish to fry. Didn't Rhea Robinson tell us that Connie Mac wouldn't sign a lease in a mall with a competing store?'
'Yes, but Greg's store was an import business.'
'Didn't you tell me that you bought a cookie jar at Greg's closeout sale?'
'I bought two. They were half price. And I bought a set of everyday dishes, too. They're really cute, Hannah. They've got blue cornflowers around the border.'
'So Greg carried a lot of kitchen things?'
'Yes, he did. He had glassware, and flatware, and. . .' Andrea stopped speaking and she drew in her breath sharply. 'I see where you're going and I think you're right. I'm going to look for the lease that Connie Mac signed.'
It took a few moments, but Andrea found the right file folder. She handed it to Hannah and they flipped through it together.
'I'll take the lease,' Andrea offered, pulling the legal document out of the file. 'I'm more familiar with leases than you are. You look at the correspondence.'
They worked in silence for several minutes. The only sound was the rustle of pages turning. Finally Andrea handed the lease back to Hannah. 'There's nothing about competing stores in here. It's all standard boilerplate.'
'But this isn't,' Hannah said, holding up a sheaf of pages that were stapled together at the corner. 'Here's a letter that Alan wrote to the mall manager. It says that Connie Mac agrees to open one of her kitchen boutiques at the mall, but there's a condition. She wants the mall manager to cancel Greg's lease when it comes up for renewal and give his space to her kitchen boutique.'
'And the mall manager agreed?'
'Oh, yes. Alan drew up a four-page contract. The mall manager signed it, and so did Connie Mac and Alan.'
'So Connie Mac and Alan put Greg out of business?'
'I'm no lawyer, but it sure looks that way to me.'
Andrea thought about that for a moment, and then she reached for Hannah's notebook. 'Do you want me to add Greg to our suspect list and write down what we've learned?'
'Definitely. People have killed for less. I don't believe Greg would murder anybody, but I have to check it out. I promised Mrs. Canfield that I'd come down for coffee when I got home and I'm going to take this letter with me. If Greg's there, I'll ask him about. . .'
Hannah stopped speaking abruptly and Andrea glanced up at her. 'What?'
'I heard something. Douse your flashlight. Quick!'
Andrea clicked off her flashlight and so did Hannah. The room was plunged into near-darkness. The only illumination came from a distant streetlight that glowed faintly through the window.
'What did you hear?' Andrea asked.
'A car. I think it drove around the building and parked in back.'
Both sisters listened intently. All was quiet for almost a minute, and then they heard the faint sound of a door clanging closed.
'The stairwell door,' Hannah said, reaching in her pocket for the keys to her truck and dropping them into Andrea's purse. 'I just put my keys in your purse. Take it and crawl under the desk.'
'Why?'
'Because it could be someone from the sheriff's department. I'll stick with my original story about how Janie sent me out here to pick up something. Maybe I can convince them to call her to confirm it, but they might haul me in to the station for questioning, anyway. If that happens, just wait until they're gone and drive my truck back to the inn.'
'But I can back up your story. It's probably someone I know, and they'll believe me.'
Hannah grabbed her sister's arm. 'No, Andrea. Get under the desk. Please!'
'But why?'
'Because maybe it's not a deputy.'
'Oh,' Andrea said, and she sounded a little sick. 'Do you think it could be the . . . the killer?'
'If it is, there's no way he's going to get you. Get under there, Andrea. Now!'
'But with two of us, we'll have him outnumbered. I won't let you face him alone.'
'Get under there now, and don't make a sound!' Hannah ordered, pulling her sister around the desk.
'But I can help you. Why should I hide under the desk like a coward?'
'Because I won't let you jeopardize the life of my new niece or nephew,' Hannah declared, shoving her sister under the desk and rolling the desk chair back into place.
'But I'm not. . .'
'Just shut up and do what I say!' Hannah hissed, interrupting her sister's denial. .'Believe me, Andrea. If I say you're pregnant, you're pregnant!'
-31-
Hannah's heart was racing as she slipped out of the back! room. She moved quickly, hurrying down the center aisle toward the display windows at the front of the store. The lighting inside the boutique was dim, but someone passing by the windows could still glance in and spot her. Rather than take that risk, she ducked down behind a display of fine china.
The mall was so quiet, she could hear the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Hannah hoped that it was just another store owner, intending to restock his shelves before the doors opened on Monday, but she didn't hold out much hope. Since it was almost eleven on a Sunday night, that was about as unlikely as Moishe suddenly sprouting wings and zooming off into the wild blue yonder.
The sound of the footsteps was increasing in volume as the person approached, clunking against the decorative tiles that lined the floor of the mall. Hannah was convinced that they belonged to a man. The stride was positive and energetic, and no effort was taken to step softly. Perhaps she was doing women a disservice by even thinking it, but Hannah doubted that any woman alone, entering a deserted mall this late at night, would tread so boldly.
Her heart in her throat, Hannah willed the stranger to walk on by, but the sound ceased abruptly in front of the door. She risked a glance, peeking up over a platter that probably cost more than she earned in a week, and she gasped as she recognized the person standing in front of Connie Mac's Kitchen Boutique.
It was Greg Canfield. Relief washed over Hannah in a giant wave. Greg was all right. All her dire thoughts had turned out to be baseless. She was just getting to her feet, preparing to call out and offer to let Greg in, when she had an unsettling thought. What was Greg doing out here on a Sunday night? And how had he gotten in?
Hannah ducked back down and thought about it for a second. Greg had kept his keys to the back door of the mall. That much was clear. And she'd told Mrs. Canfield that she was coming out to the mall. Perhaps Greg had
