“Yes, sir.” Officer Leland turned away.
G h o s t at Wo r k
Chief Cobb looked at Judith. “Let’s check the rest of the house, see if anything else has been disturbed.” I zoomed ahead of them. Everything looked to be in perfect order.
I doubted there was more for me to learn at the Murdoch house. It was time to honor my promise to Kathleen and deal with the red nightgown.
Oklahoma weather was as coquettish as I remembered. The morning’s cold wind and lowering clouds were gone. The sky was a soft fall blue, and the air was warming. The high temperature would likely edge near seventy this afternoon. I wished away my lamb’s-wool coat. Bradford-pear leaves glowed bright as Burgundy shot through with sunlight. Red-and-gold maple leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze. A sturdy sycamore shed tawny leaves that were heaped, sculpted by the wind, near the Murdoch cabin’s front steps.
The drive ended in a turnaround near the cabin. A small green pickup was parked near the steps. It likely belonged to the cleaning ladies. I expected that was where Daryl had parked Wednesday evening. Kathleen likely pulled in behind his car. The drive didn’t circle behind the cabin. Parking must always be a problem, cars straggling along the drive back to the road.
When Kathleen fled, she’d jumped into her car, locked the doors, made a tight turn, and sped up the drive to the road. She’d made no mention of another car. There were no offshoot lanes from the drive.
Where had the other car parked?
Ca ro ly n H a rt
I knew there had been another car or some means of transportation. Someone else must have been present that evening to know about the red nightgown.
I heard the whine of a vacuum cleaner within the cabin. Soon I would go inside and see about the nightgown, but it was essential to understand what had happened here Wednesday night.
Had Daryl told someone about the episode of the red nightgown?
Sexual bullies don’t relish looking foolish. It was not a moment for him to recount with pride to his buddies, Kathleen tossing the nightgown into the fire and slamming out of the cabin. Therefore, someone saw Kathleen unwrap that present, fling it to destruction, and flee. The front windows were uncurtained, the interior shutters folded back, affording a clear view within. I glanced up the drive.
The house wasn’t visible from the road.
I pictured the cabin in the gloom of approaching night, Daryl inside, the fire burning. Kathleen arrived, tense and upset, and somewhere outside someone watched.
I stepped close to the window on the right. A buxom woman in a red T-shirt and jeans flapped a spread onto a twin bed.
I moved to the first window on the other side of the porch. The window was raised about an inch. A wiry cleaning woman in a flower-patterned housedress pushed a sweeper close enough to the window that we would have looked eye to eye had I been there. The machine’s shrill whine rose to a shriek.
I looked past her, saw the cream sofa where Kathleen had sat.
A leather recliner faced the sofa. A sagging easy chair was near the fireplace. From here an observer would have seen everything that transpired.
I glanced down. Sycamore leaves bunched up in a puffy mound.
Shoes would leave no mark. If someone had watched through this window Wednesday night, I would find no trace here.
I wasn’t following the progress of the vacuum cleaner. The sudden
G h o s t at Wo r k
cessation of sound startled me. I looked into the room and realized the cleaning lady was bending toward the fireplace.
At once I was beside her, but I watched helplessly as she gingerly lifted up the singed remnants of the red silk nightgown and the gift box and wrapping paper. She lifted her voice. “Jenny, you won’t never believe what I found. Come look at this. Don’t you know there’s a tale behind this here.”
Kathleen was my charge and here was evidence that would link her to a murder and tarnish her reputation forever. If I had come directly from the rectory as I had promised, Kathleen would not be in jeopardy. It was my old sin of curiosity. With a dash of impulsiveness.
Good intentions may indeed pave the road to hell, but if-onlys point the way to the slippery slope to despair.
I stared at the dangling remnants of the red silk gown. Kathleen’s future hung in the balance.
The Precepts warned against alarming earthly creatures and certainly Wiggins found any such activity reprehensible, but I had no choice. In a flash, I shot to the kitchen, opened my mouth, and yelled.
As my shrill shout rose and fell, I felt a moment of pride. The sound was unnerving. I didn’t know I had it in me.
“Mabel, what’s wrong?” The strangled call came from the bedroom. “Are you hurt?”
In the living room, Mabel shouted, “Somebody’s gettin’ killed in the kitchen. Hurry, Jenny. Run. Get out the front door.” I screamed again, as loudly as possible, pulling breath all the way from my toes.
Pounding steps sounded in the living room. I moved back to the fireplace in time to glimpse heavyset Jenny
