Barbara nodded and sniffled again. She looked around the kitchen, taking in the details. The tableware in the sink was for one person. A cup, spoon, and a ceramic bowl, ready for a quick rinse, were dishes of a lonely old woman. It told Meghan more than she wanted to admit because the same utensils and dishware occupied the kitchen sink in her house.
“I’ll take Barbara to Linda’s,” Freddie said. He opened the door. A gust of wind broached the house, spilling snowflakes inside. The storm thickened outside.
When they left, Meghan stood quiet in the kitchen with Lester and Eric waiting.
“She knew the killer,” Meghan said.
“Hilma lived here her whole life,” Lester said. “She’s got a two-bedroom house and lives alone.” His words had a little edge to them. It was something Meghan picked up on Lester’s attitude. She missed something in his statement.
Meghan frowned at the observation. “I live alone.”
“Most families stay together here,” Eric explained. “Sometimes you’ll have upwards of twenty people living under the same roof. A house like this has a lot of room for one person. Hilma knew everyone. And everyone knew Hilma.”
“And any one of them is a suspect,” Meghan said.
Chapter Ten
Eric and Lester removed the body from the living room. Freddie had extra room inside a shipping container near the water treatment plant. A twenty-foot vessel that had a collection of miscellaneous items and a lot of room on the floor, the steel container had a lock. Until they finished the investigation, Hilma’s body needed cold storage and protection. It didn’t get much colder than the uninsulated steel box exposed to the raw elements.
Motive—that was the issue, they had to eliminate all obvious angles to find the straight line to why someone wanted Hilma dead. They had the house to explore and speculate.
She had shed all the winter clothing and turned down the heat in the house to a tolerable range. Meghan had a long look around while Lester and Eric secured the body. She tried to look at the woman’s everyday life, walking around the house several times while she was alone.
Meghan made several trips from the kitchen to the living room. The five wide steps that led into the living room had slip-resistant rubber padding. It was as new as the cement floor with thick carpet padding under the expensive polyester carpeting.
The recliner had a wired remote that included chair features that reclined, changed the headrest position, as well as heat and massage. The basket with knitting supplies had the beginning of something the color of northeast autumn in the yarn. The television, when Meghan used the remote, had the station for a national news organization.
The room had a new element as if the addition happened that summer or the year before. Meghan wondered if the late Paul Coleman had something to do with its construction. With his death, the local Alaskalytical Construction Company closed the shop and moved back to Anchorage. She wondered who Hilma got to replace the roof.
Strolling from the living room to the bedroom was a shorter distance than walking to the kitchen. Halfway between the bedroom and the living room was the bathroom. It was quaint with a walk-in shower that had a molded seat and handrails. She didn’t know Hilma but the woman planned for the future. If the woman didn’t need the railings or support when she took a shower, in due course, she would.
Meghan spent a lot of time in the bedrooms. Hilma’s master bedroom was devoid of anything that caught Meghan’s eye. She went through the closet. She went through the plastic totes on the shelf inside the cabinet. Meghan went through each of the drawers in the dresser and the nightstands. Whatever ‘they’ wanted, it came from inside the bedroom. That’s what Meghan determined after searching the second bedroom.
The spare bedroom had a desk with layers of dust, a computer that was purchased shortly after the turn of the millennium. It had a port for a three-inch floppy disc. The closet had more plastic totes. Each of them was stacked orderly with nothing out of place. Whatever the reason for Hilma’s death, it wasn’t because of something in the spare bedroom.
The stairs in the living room told Meghan the lady wasn’t giving up on life any time soon. The steps didn’t have a railing. If Hilma was anything like her daughter, walking up and down steps didn’t bother her at all.
“It wasn’t an accident,” Meghan said finally. It was after midnight, which meant it was already Sunday.
When her team returned, she bounced ideas off them.
“I agree,” Lester said. “But the murder weapon isn’t in the house. So, the killer took it.”
“I checked inside her mouth and throat. She died before they set the fire. Her palate was pink and clear of charring,” Eric said. “That’s a relief, I guess. If they meant to burn Hilma to hide the evidence, why didn’t they try harder?”
“It’s not something someone thinks about,” Meghan explained. “This wasn’t premeditated. No one expected Hilma’s death. No one expected a body on fire wrapped in a blanket wouldn’t burn.”
She found the empty bottle of isopropyl alcohol under the kitchen sink in the trashcan. Meghan left it on the counter inside an evidence bag. They had the foresight to bring their evidence collection kit. The plastic bottle didn’t have fingerprints. Everyone wore gloves in the winter.
“Even with the alcohol,
