A Dangerous Woman (A Fay Cunningham Mystery-Book 1)

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

I drove to the local gossip corner and arrived before the usual stragglers from the breakfast crowd had cleared out. I had a seat at the rear booth that seemed a favorite to only Mitch and me. Willie was beside me with coffee and a compliment on my dress by the time I got situated in my seat.

Then she told me, "You just missed your buddy."

"Mitch?"

"Um-huh. Said he was on his way to do a little investigatin' work."

I think it was the sudden flashback of the last time I began making demands on Willie to relinquish private information, and the scare I gave her, that I was able to conceal my throbbing curiosity. I knew it was best to ease into the question I desperately wanted answered. So I sipped my coffee before the casual inquiry.

"And did Mitch happen to mention just what he was investigating?"

"Nah. Probably has somethin' to do with whatever he was whisperin' to the state boys about, though. So you want breakfast? Got some fresh home fries on the grill."

"Bring me some. And my usual eggs over easy and bacon too."

"Comin' right up," Willie promised with a wink and smile before heading out for the kitchen.

This day, I sat facing the customers. But there was nobody I recognized. Or more correctly, no one I wanted to strike up a conversation with. So I sat alone and had a silent conversation with myself. I asked myself what Mitch was off investigating. Then I went ahead and answered myself with more questions. Maybe a good citizen came forward who had seen Ethel with someone prior to the murder? Or maybe more evidence was collected from the crime scene that had been overlooked earlier? Or could it be that something turned up concerning the strand of cheap red wig hair found wrapped around Ethel's fingers?

After a short while, Willie returned with a plate of delicious looking food. She was about to take off again to fetch me more coffee when I asked her to hold up a minute.

"Willie, you didn't happen to hear any of the state troopers talking about Ethel's murder, did you?"

She glanced toward her remaining customers and dropped in the seat across from me. Then she leaned close, eyes wide, as if she was going to reveal a deadly secret.

"They're thinkin' it was a woman that done it," she whispered. "They found 'em a real long piece a hair, you know."

"That's why they think it was a woman?"

"One a the reasons." She took a quick peek over her shoulder, then finished in a tone so soft I had to strain to hear. "Tests are bein' done, but they're almost sure the sleeve of Ethel's dress had lipstick on it. You knew the old girl, Fay. She never wore a lick a makeup her whole life..."

Willie scurried off to the sound of someone at the other end of the restaurant hollering for more coffee while I poked fork into a fried potato.

What Willie said made sense. The lipstick on the sleeve gave reason to assume Ethel's killer could have been a woman. But who? Ethel had no enemies. And there certainly wasn't a woman alive that I knew, who would want to do harm to such a good-hearted and kind old soul. But there was one woman I didn't know very well. The truth is, I knew nothing about Angel Adams, other than she was Joe's new housekeeper.

As much as the glass-eyed doll gave me the creeps, I really couldn't picture her as Ethel's killer. I mean, it was not comprehendible for me to believe she would kill a woman just to take over her position as a housekeeper.

The thought was ludicrous. Of course there are people who kill over a measly few bucks. But I had strong doubts Angel was one of them. She seemed too smart to do something so stupid. No, Angel Adams would not kill Ethel for her housekeeping job. But what if there was another reason?