The House of Seven Mabels

rigidly trained to always be polite and gracious. It didn't stick with Marty, though, when she got to live her own life.

'Could we stop off just a moment at the project?' Shelley asked. 'I forgot to measure the basement. And we haven't even seen the third floor where the gables are.'

'Dormers,' Jane automatically corrected her. 'I guess so. I left dinner with instructions to put it all in the oven at five-thirty. And it's that time now. Won't be ready for at least half an hour.'

Everyone had apparently left the job site. No trucks, no sign of lights left on, and plenty of parking space. 'I brought along flashlights,' Shelley said. 'I have no idea if there are light fixtures down there.'

The front door wasn't locked. 'No wonder anyone can wander in here,' Jane said. 'Bitsy and Sandra should lock up everything when the workers are gone.'

'That's just one of many things they aren't doing right,' Shelley said, opening the basement

door and feeling for a light switch along the wall. When she found one, an old-style push-button, light flooded the stairway.

'Oh my God!' Jane exclaimed. 'There's a body down there!'

Twelve

Shelley and jane called their homes and let their children know they'd been delayed. 'But turn the oven down to 225,' Jane said to Todd.

'What's up, Mom?'

'There's been an accident at the place thaf s being renovated. I'll be home as soon as I can. I have to get off the phone now.'

'Are you and Mrs. Nowack okay?'

'Perfectly okay. Don't worry,' Jane said in the chirpiest voice she could manage, and it wasn't easy. Shelley had already dialed 911 from her cell phone, and they could hear sirens in the distance almost immediately.

'Shouldn't we go down there and see if we can help her?' Jane had asked.

'I don't think so,' Shelley said, her voice shaking. 'I'm very sure from the angle of her neck that she's dead. Let's just stay by the front door. I'm sorry I pushed that light button. I might have put a fingerprint over someone else's.'

Two ambulances arrived at the same moment,

and Shelley told them where to find the basement door. Mel VanDyne arrived only a moment later. And very angry to see them.

'I just finished all my work and got this call. What the hell are you two doing here?'

'Go check out the situation and we'll explain later,' Jane said, understanding his frustration. They hadn't had any time together for over a week, and were both looking forward to his getting free for a while.

Shelley asked Jane, 'Didn't Mel know what we were doing?'

Jane shook her head. 'He's been frantically busy for the last week. Three different cases to wrap up. Mostly all we've been doing has been playing phone tag. No wonder he's mad at us. Now he's probably going to get stuck with this, just when he was expecting a bit of peace and quiet.'

'But we'll be able to give him the background material and our impressions of the people working here. Won't he be the least grateful?'

Jane just rolled her eyes in disbelief that Shelley could say something that innocent with a straight face.

Mel was back shortly, thunder in his look. 'I presume you know who the victim is?'

'Sandra Anderson,' Jane said. 'She is — or maybe was — the contractor.'

'What does that mean, 'is or was'?'

'The last time I spoke with the owner,' Shelley answered, 'she was getting ready to fire Sandra.'

'And who's the owner of this wreck, if you don't mind telling me?' Mel asked, still deeply in sarcastic mode.

'Bitsy Burnside,' Jane said, pretending she didn't realize he was making a nasty remark. 'If you can wait a sec, I think I have her telephone number in my purse.' She rummaged while Mel fumed and found the crumpled deposit slip she'd written it on. She handed it over and asked, 'May we go home now?'

'Please do. I remember where to find you,' he said with a sigh.

'If you can get away, dinner's in the oven,' Jane offered.

'Do you really think? Never mind.' He turned away and disappeared.

Jane and Shelley fled. 'Do you think she just tripped and fell, maybe?' Jane asked on the way home.

'I didn't see a purse. The police must not have found one either if Mel had to ask us her name. I never saw her without one. No, I don't think she tripped all by herself. Someone pushed her.'

Bitsy called Jane later in the evening. 'Jane, this is so awful! I'm afraid that detective thinks I killed Sandy. He said he'd spoken to you and Shelley, and I got the impression you knew him before.'

'I'm dating him,' Jane admitted.

'You're kidding! No, I guess you're not. Sandy

and I did have a big blowup when I told her I'd I hired the contractor I'd originally gotten a bid

from. But I had no reason to harm her. Can't you explain that to your detective?'

'He's an intelligent man, Bitsy. This is what he successfully does for a living. He doesn't jump to conclusions. And he really wouldn't welcome my input.'

There was a long silence on the line. Finally, sounding tearful, Bitsy croaked, 'You don't think I could have done such a thing, do you?'

'No, of course not,' Jane lied. If Bitsy had shoved Sandra down the steps, she certainly didn't want to act as if she suspected her for fear that she herself might become the next victim. 'I'm just telling you he's an expert at what he does and he'll find out by himself what happened to Sandra.' This wasn't precisely the truth. Jane and Shelley had contributed domestic insights to Mel on a couple of other cases. He called this dangerous snooping. They regarded it as helping.

Bitsy went on, not at all reassured, 'But I left the renovation before she did. The discussion was getting needlessly ugly and I thought there was nothing else productive to say, so I left the house, meaning to come back and lock up after everyone had gone. Surely someone saw me leaving, or knew I'd gone while she was still standing in the yard yelling at me as I drove off. I'm sure everybody was gawking and eavesdropping. Some of the workers really disliked her. But I was too

upset by the confrontation to remember to go back and lock up when she was gone.'

'Then everything should be okay,' Jane said, 'if you have witnesses.'

'Half a dozen, at least. Everyone was upstairs still working and Sandy was screaming so loudly, I'm sure they heard it. Your detective did ask for everyone's names and addresses.'

My detective, Jane thought. It made him sound like her personal bodyguard.

Jane immediately called Shelley. 'Are you finished with dinner? I just got a hysterical call from Bitsy.'

'I have to supervise some homework first. It'll be about a half-hour.'

Jane's own supervision consisted of looking into Todd's bedroom door, where she could see the screen of his computer. He was obviously constructing grids for his prime number project. Katie was on the other phone line, giggling.

'Time to hang up and get your homework done,' Jane said.

'I don't have any, and Jenny and I are making plans for next weekend,' she said.

'Be sure to clear them with me,' Jane warned as she went back downstairs to load the dishwasher.

Shelley was dead on time. 'So what did Bitsy say to you?'

'That she thinks 'my detective' thinks she did it.'

'Your detective? How did she know about you and Mel?'

'He must have mentioned speaking to us. Apparently she got the idea he already knew us. I admitted it. She wanted me to influence him.'

'Fat chance!' Shelley exclaimed.

'She didn't understand when I explained that he always got the right perp,' Jane said, pouring them each a cup of hot decaf coffee and setting a plate of grocery-store cookies on the kitchen table.

'She thought I meant I thought she'd done it,' Jane finished up. 'I told her I thought no such thing.'

'Good for you. We don't want to make an enemy of her if she turns out to be guilty.'

'She said there was a horrible blowup when she fired Sandra. Lots of yelling. She felt that all the workers