“Ellie. Where are you?” Abby, my best friend, sounded breathless and shaken.
“I’m at home.”
“I just got a busy signal,” she said sharply.
“Hey, can’t I listen to my messages? I was returning a phone call.” The wonders of technology. Now when someone is too impatient to wait for the phone not to be busy they can call my cell phone.
“Sorry,” Abby rushed on, “Jill’s trying to find you. You remember that form, the one we filled out? With all the info? Penny never filled one out. They don’t know who to call.”
“Slow down. What’s going on?” I was used to Abby’s scattered conversations, but I felt a finger of cold that had nothing to do with the weather trace along my neck. Her trembling voice held a note of fear. Something was not right.
“I’m doing this all wrong.” Abby took a deep breath. “Penny’s dead.”
An Everything In Its Place Tip for Organized Closets
Add more room to your closet with these ideas:
Capitalize on unused space in the top of a closet with additional shelves for low-use items like extra blankets and pillows. Upper closet shelves are also a great place to stash Christmas gifts that you pick up during end-of-season sales.
Dropped rods double your clothes space. Look for the kind that hook over the upper rod so there’s no installation.
Invest in a shoe organizer. The possibilities are as varied as your taste: Cubes, racks, and over-the-door-models come in a variety of finishes and styles.
Multigarment hangers allow you to hang several items on one hanger.
Chapter Two
“No, she’s not,” I said. “I saw her this morning. Just a few hours ago.”
“Ellie. I’m sorry, but Penny is dead,” Abby’s voice transitioned to her firm third grade teacher voice.
I stood there staring at the cocoa box, shaking my head. Rex scratched on the door. Automatically, I opened the door, unhooked his tether, and he bounded into the kitchen, leaving wet puddles. “What?”
“Will came home for lunch and found her. She’d committed suicide.”
“No. She couldn’t—I mean, I saw her this morning. She looked…radiant.” There was no other word for it. “She couldn’t have done that.”
Rex stopped bouncing and watched me with his ears perked up and his head cocked to one side.
“Ellie, I know it’s hard to believe. I’m having trouble believing it, too. She was quiet and kind of mousy, but she didn’t seem depressed. Anyway, Jill called me looking for you, since you knew her so well. Will’s in shock.” Abby swallowed. “He found her in the bathtub with her wrists slit. So he’s not functioning real well right now. Jill wanted to know if you knew anything about her family.”
“No. Not really. I think she mentioned Michigan once. I’ll call Jill.” Rex came over to rub against my side, apparently deciding I needed some affection.
“I’m sure the police will sort it out, but Jill wanted to try to contact the family, too.”
“Okay. Let me call her.”
While I patted Rex’s head I called Jill, confirmed that I didn’t know enough to help her, and she hung up.
I twisted the cocoa box back and forth on the counter. I couldn’t believe it. I walked back and forth across the kitchen as I reviewed my conversation with Penny this morning. She’d been happy. I was sure. I barely noticed when an icy puddle of water soaked into my sock. She’d been concerned about something, too, but only momentarily. She certainly hadn’t been depressed.
I leaned against the counter and pushed PLAY on the answering machine, expecting Jill’s sharp tones again.
“Ellie! I can tell you now.” Penny’s soft but unmistakably sunny voice came out of the little speaker. I felt that touch of cold again and shivered. “I’m so excited. I’d promised Will I wouldn’t tell anyone until the test was confirmed, but now it’s official. I’m pregnant! Can you believe it? I can’t. It must have happened right before Will went TDY in January. I didn’t even realize until last week. I thought I was late. I’m babbling, aren’t I? I can’t help it.” She laughed, a bubbly sound. “I’ve waited so long. I’m going to find my baby name book. Call me when you get in. We can go shopping for baby clothes.”
I put my head down on the counter and cried. The automated voice stated “Monday. Twelve thirty-four.” After I wiped my eyes, I went to the little secretary desk that my dad made for me. I pulled a stack of business cards out of one of the cubbyholes and flipped through them until I found the plain white one with small black type: OLIVER THISLEWAIT, SPECIAL AGENT, OFFICE OF SPECIAL INVESTIGATIONS.
Chapter Three
Thistlewait listened to the tape with his head bent, intently studying the countertop. I paced back and forth in the kitchen, tensing as Penny’s voice, light and joyful, floated through the air again, “Ellie!”
It was too hard to listen. I hurried into the living room where I’d left Livvy with a mound of pastel blocks, her favorite doll, and Sesame Street on DVD. She sat in the middle of the rug with her back straight, swaying slightly from side to side as she sang along with Elmo.
I returned to the kitchen, sidestepped a stack of Livvy’s miniature pots and pans, and belatedly noticed the pile of white clothes on the kitchen table waiting to be folded, the dirty dishes in the sink, and the layer of dust over everything. I got that self-conscious my-house-is-a-mess feeling and wished I’d at least picked up before I’d called Thistlewait. His tall form crouched over the answering machine, turning it in his hands.
Had I done the right thing? I could have called the police, but after last year and my contact with them during a spate of burglaries, I thought it would be too hard to convince anyone to take me seriously in the few minutes I’d have on the phone or in person.
“This thing have a tape?” Thistlewait asked.
“No. It’s electronic.” He hadn’t changed much. Same curly brown hair, same tan overcoat, but today he’d arrived wearing a wool scarf and gloves.
“I need to take it with me.”
“I thought so. Last time they took my vacuum cleaner and I still haven’t gotten it back.”
He shrugged. “Sorry about that. Evidence.” He put the answering machine down and glanced pointedly at my mug and cocoa on the counter. “Don’t let me get in your way.”
I smiled and went to make hot chocolate. He’d hardly changed at all. Last time he arrived to ask me questions about the break-ins he’d mooched our leftover dinner rolls. As I punched buttons on the microwave to heat water, I considered my approach.
“There’s no way Penny would commit suicide if she knew she was pregnant,” I said and set a steaming mug topped with marshmallows in front of him. I leaned against the counter and sipped my own.
Thislewait sighed. “Mrs. Avery.” His voice was a warning, tinged with weariness. “It is always hard to accept the death of a friend, even in the most uneventful circumstances.”
I slammed my mug down on the counter. A milky brown puddle sloshed over the edge. I usually didn’t know what to say when someone made me mad until about three hours later, but I had to let him know about Penny. I had to speak up. I gathered my swirling thoughts. “Penny adored kids and wanted her own. She’d had two miscarriages in two years, but she wanted a baby. Her doctor told her it was possible, but not probable.” He raised his eyebrow, skeptical. “They were beginning to