I dropped into the cruiser.
Sweat beaded Johnny’s handsome face. “Two-adam-five.”
“Two-adam-five go ahead.”
“No trace Ford driver, redheaded woman in her late twenties in a light brown mink coat. Apparently accompanied by unknown male. Loud voices heard, cannot locate. Woman shouted, ‘Murder.’ Missing redheaded driver originally seen in same car with Susan Flynn. Mrs. Flynn wasn’t in the car. Possibly a search should be made. Send backup.”
I zoomed up until I spotted the white envelope. “Wiggins, I’d hoped to return Jake’s car to Pritchard House, but there’s no chance.” We both knew (at least I knew) whose fault this was, but laying blame never warms relationships. “Officer Cain’s calling for help. The police will contact Susan’s house.” I reached out, grabbed the envelope. “I’ll take the will to the post office.” I’d promised Susan.
He held on to the will for a moment, then relinquished the envelope. “I suppose,” it was as if he spoke to himself, “that you might as well see the will on its way since the document now exists, even though I’m sure Susan’s delayed arrival in Heaven caused consternation. Very well.” He cleared his throat. “Deposit the envelope. I’ll alert the Rescue Express to pick you up at the post office.”
My return ticket was all but in my hand. I’d seen Keith safely through and helped Susan provide for his future and his rightful place as his father’s son, but I was miserable.
Susan had been murdered. I’d not understood that she was in my care, but nonetheless I felt responsible now. Abruptly, I quivered with anger. I’d wondered why Susan had to die tonight when happy days with Keith lay ahead of her. “Murder! That makes me furious. Worst of all, no one will suspect a thing. She looks so peaceful lying there. They’ll think she overdid today and simply died. That isn’t right.” I glared down at the police car. “I’d almost go down there and tell that young officer. But he’d try to take me into custody and when I disappeared that would put them off on the wrong—”
I felt a rush of excitement. “Wrong track!” I gave a whoop and I didn’t care how Officer Cain reacted. “Wiggins, there’s no time to lose. The police will be on their way to Pritchard House. I may only have minutes. I’ll dash by the post office.” Zooming through the night air above the lights of Adelaide was an experience to be savored, especially with all of the glorious Christmas decorations. “As soon as I drop the envelope in a letter box, I’ll pop immediately to Susan’s bedroom. I know how to make sure the police investigate her death.” I took a deep hopeful breath. “Please signal the Rescue Express that my assignment has been extended. We can’t let Susan’s murderer get away with a perfect crime.”
I waited. Time on earth can seem eons long. My chest ached as I held my breath. Would Wiggins approve? Wiggins followed the rules. I often didn’t and I had no doubt my plan would shock his conservative soul.
“Do you believe you can make a difference?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Of course you can make a difference. You always do.”
I chose not to focus on the faintly bitter tone of his voice.
“Do whatever you need to do.” He was gruff and determined. “Susan should have had those happy days with Keith. I’ll send the signal now. Assignment extended.”
CHAPTER NINE
The Meissen clock on the mantel chimed a quarter after one. A little more than an hour had elapsed since Susan and I had departed, Susan laughing with pleasure as she floated through space to the hall below.
I hovered above the bed. She still rested on her side. In profile, her face looked peaceful. Yes, now she was at peace. I gently edged the pillow from beneath her head, carried it to the dresser. I opened the drawer, found a makeup kit, smudged lipstick on the pillowcase.
The phone shrilled. It rang a second time, a third, stopped in mid-peal.
I felt like a horse flicked by a crop. I moved fast, throwing back the bedcovers and tumbling Susan’s body onto the floor. Quickly, I placed her on her back. I bent her arms at the elbow, placed her hands palm up, and covered her face and hands with the pillow.
I’d no more than finished when a rattling knock sounded on the bedroom door. The door swung wide. “Susan, the police just called.” Jake’s voice was breathless. “They said you—Susan? Susan?” The light flicked on.
Jake Flynn stepped inside, struggling to pull on a pink chenille robe. Curlers held wisps of hair, exposing pink patches of scalp. She stared and her puffy, sleep-raddled face froze in horror. Unsteadily, as if the floor rocked beneath her feet, one hand pressed against her lips, Jake crossed the room, dropped to her knees beside Susan. Jake pulled Susan’s right arm from beneath the pillow and pressed her fingertips against the wrist.
Downstairs, the doorbell pealed. Authoritative raps sounded.
Jake came to her feet, breathing in short, quick gasps. She looked toward the hall, then once again turned to that still figure. Face quivering in distaste, she bent over, reaching toward the pillow.
“Mother!” Peg’s cry was stricken.
Jake whirled to face the door, clutched her chest.
“What’s happened?” Peg hurried to Susan’s body, stared down. “Why is that pillow over Susan’s face?”
“I don’t know.” Jake’s voice shook. “I just found her. I didn’t find any pulse. And you can tell she isn’t breathing. The police called and asked to speak to Susan. I told them she was sick and they said they had to talk to her and I came and found her.”
The doorbell rang without pause.
“She’s dead.” Peg’s voice was dull, leaden. Her hand hovered above the pillow. She shuddered and drew back. “We mustn’t touch anything.”
The doorbell continued to peal.
“Wait just a minute. I’m coming.” Gina’s call on the stairwell was loud and irritated. “Jake? Peg? Where is
