Further down in the box, under a few more stacks of the same things, I found a photo. I gently lifted it out and instantly recognized Penelope. It must have been from at least twenty or so years before. She looked lovely and the clothes were perfection. Pieter had his arm around her and she gazed adoringly up at him. A canal ran through the background and it was obviously taken in Amsterdam. They looked so in love.
Els came into the bedroom with several more boxes. “Let me just go down and get another stack while I’m at it,” she said.
“Els, could you come here for a moment? I found an old picture of your father and Penelope you may want to keep.”
Els brushed a stand of her hair from her face and wiped her hands on the apron. “Really? Let me see.” Els took the picture and stared at it for a long time. A tear slowly made its way down her cheek and I felt bad showing it to her at this moment. I should have waited a few days, after we finished all the packing.
I stood up and went to her side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess seeing them together, how happy they were brings up too many memories for you.”
“No. No, not at all.” She tossed the picture on the floor.
I bent down to get it and looked at Els. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want it?”
“No, I don’t. But maybe when you find out who the man in the picture is, you can give it to him.”
“Nope, she had no idea who the guy in the picture was,” I said to my sister as soon as I got back to my office.
“Maybe it was her father. It was old, maybe she just didn’t recognize him,” my sister added.
“That’s what I thought, but she showed me a picture of her dad she carries in her wallet and it was not the same man.” I grabbed three red M&Ms off my desk and ate them one by one. “After she saw the picture, she didn’t want to work on the packing anymore. I’m not sure if she’s going to finish it or not, but I told her to call me if she needs my help.”
“I don’t suppose I could send her a bill for the couple hours you were over there?” my sister asked, always looking out for our bottom line.
I rolled my eyes and tossed another candy into my mouth. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m glad to be out of there. Wilhelm’s an odd duck, always creeping up on me and offering me some candy with a weird name. He’s got a real problem where sweets are concerned.”
My sister watched as I grabbed another handful of M&Ms from the jar on my desk and started to laugh. “He’s got the problem?”
I looked at my hand, holding the chocolates and tossed them in the wastebasket. “Fine. But I don’t go around sticking a fistful of candy in people’s faces and saying stuff like,
pepermuntballen
.
“So what are you going to do now?” Sam asked.
“I don’t feel like working and I’m not sure I feel like talking with any more suspects today after my run-in with Connie, but I do need to go back to the murder house and get more clothes. I thought John would be home by now. Want to go with me?”
Sam checked her watch. “Sure. I don’t have to pick the kids up for a couple of hours.”
Twenty-five minutes later we picked our way through the mess of wet branches and leaves on my front porch and entered the house. I immediately looked through the living room to the door leading into the library. Sure enough the crime scene tape stretched across it and I knew it was locked. Good. There was no way I wanted to go in there.
Sam followed me upstairs and I got an overnight bag out of my closet and filled it with enough stuff for several more days. It felt weird standing in my own room, almost like I was in a hotel and I wondered if I would ever feel at home here again.
“I talked with Detective Maroni this morning and he told me there were no wet footprints from Bert’s boots in the library.”
I left my room and walked down the hall to the room where Bert entered my house. Sure enough there was mud all over but it could have come from the window blowing open. I took a closer look and could make out boot prints leaving the room. We followed them down the stairs, through the living room and into the dining room where they stopped. The prints in the dining room were fainter than those up in the hall and I figured as he walked, his shoes dried out by the time he got downstairs. I told my sister the detective’s theory about Bert and the boots.
“Maybe he took them off when he came down to kill Penelope,” Sam said. “It would make sense because he would want to be as quiet as possible.”
“That’s exactly what I thought. But could he have come down, killed her, and crept back upstairs without anyone seeing him?”
“The lights went out and everyone walked around trying to find their way to the bathroom, the kitchen, the food table. It’s possible.”
“Or,” I said, “A better idea would be he had help.”
Sam smiled. “Connie.”
“Connie.” I thought about this for a minute. “She didn’t look like she just killed someone.”
“Did anyone look like they just killed someone?”
“Well, no, I guess not. Where was everyone standing when Mom asked where Penelope was?”
My sister looked at me like I was crazy, and maybe I was. “I don’t know. It was dark, remember, except for candle light.”
I slumped down on the sofa. “How am I ever going to figure this thing out? It could have been anyone.”
Sam sat next to me. “Yes, it could have.”
“We still don’t know if Penelope was even the intended victim, do we?” I asked.
“Nope.”
I twisted around and looked at Sam. “You’re not much help, are you?”
Sam got up and extended her hand to me. “Come on. Let’s get your stuff and get out of here. This place is creeping me out.”
I went into the kitchen and took a few things out of the refrigerator and tossed them into a bag I would take to my parents’ house. Who knew when I would come back here? I hadn’t wanted to move into this house and now a murder had taken place. Maybe it was an omen.
“What are you thinking about?” my sister asked.
“Nothing. Well, just I didn’t want to come here, and now this happened and maybe it’s some sort of payback.”
“Yeah. Whatever,” my sister said, not willing to get sucked into my Catholic guilt trip. “All I can say is you had better figure this thing out and quick.”
“Why?”
“Because you took the ring, you said ‘I do,’ and you rented out your other house. If you don’t solve the murder and get the bad karma out of here, you’re going to have to move back in with mom and dad. For good.”
From a very young age, I knew I had one person on my side unconditionally. My parents were wonderful and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. My sister is my best friend and I love her dearly. But everyone needs someone who is always in their corner. Everyone needs someone who thinks they’re just the best thing to happen since sliced bread, thinks they can do no wrong, and embraces them and loves them more for all their quirkiness. To have someone like that in your life is a true blessing and so I headed there now, to my very own one-person fan club.
I drove through the arched entryway to the small community and turned onto the first street on my left. All the houses were small, no more than two bedrooms, one storied, and all had front porches where the residents would sit on summer evenings reminiscing about the good old days.
I pulled up in front of one of the bungalows, where a large maple stood in the front yard and hydrangea bushes surrounded the porch. Meme pushed the screen door open and waved.
My grandmother. My mother’s mother. The two of them couldn’t be more different. Actually, they had a lot in common but where my mother pretty much played by the rules and didn’t take many risks, Meme was a crazy person like me. More of a firecracker. Jumping before looking. Mom represented the voice of reason. Meme represented fun.
I walked up to my grandmother and gave her a hug.
“Change of plans. We’re going out for dinner.”
I followed Meme back into the house. “Fine by me, but how come?”
Meme turned off the light in the living room and plopped herself down on her favorite chair. “Cuz Harriet Lubinsky keeps coming over for dating advice and she’s driving me crazy. If we stay here, she’ll be over and ruin the whole evening. We gotta keep the lights off so she thinks we’re gone.”
Meme lived in a senior community and anyone who thinks all they do is sit around all day or take naps is in for a surprise. The things my grandmother and her friends get up to make me dizzy. I can hardly keep track of all her neighbors let alone what they’re all doing.
“She’s coming to you for dating advice? What kind of dating advice?” I asked suspiciously, knowing full well Fred, the ninety-something hunk of the group, had turned to generic Viagra at the advice of one of his neighbors and it hadn’t turned out so well.
“She met a man on one of those dating things on the Internet. He lives in Guilford. They been going at it pretty strong and she’s dying to meet him. And at her age and with her bad health, dying is a pretty good description.”
“They haven’t met yet?” I asked trying to stifle a smile.
“He keeps putting her off and she’s getting suspicious. That’s why she keeps coming over here so I can read his emails and try to decipher them for her.” Meme got up and peeked out the curtains. “I’m waiting for Theresa and then we can go.” Meme closed the curtain again and came back to her chair.
“So why is Harriett suspicious of this guy?” I asked, looking at my grandmother through the dim light of the street lamp coming through the small window at the top of the front door.
“She thinks he’s got another girlfriend, or worse yet a wife, and that’s why he keeps putting her off. Every time she tells him she wants to meet for a coffee, he comes up with an excuse.”
I only had limited experience with online dating but the few times I did try it pretty much put me off the process. Chances are if this man kept making excuses he probably did have a wife or girlfriend, or maybe he was only twelve and just liked playing around on the Internet.
“I keep telling her to forget about him. Come play bingo with us. But she has her sights on him something terrible and won’t let go. He told her he has a house on the ocean and she’s thinking he must have some bucks and with all the medicine she has to take, the insurance doesn’t pay for it all.” Meme sighed.
We heard a light knock on the door and Meme got up and peeked out the curtain. “It’s Theresa. We can go now.” Meme took her purse from the small table to the side of the door and I followed her out.
“We’ll take your car, Alex, but keep the lights off till we get to the main street.”
We all piled into my Honda and I drove slowly down the street and turned right at the next corner.
“Get down!” Meme shouted and both she and Theresa hunkered down in their seats. My grandmother is not the slimmest of women but she managed to slide down and tuck her head to her chest as far as she could. I figured she wasn’t talking to me when she shouted get down, so I kept driving, eyes on the dark road in front of me. Sure enough, a woman with a cane and what looked like a hairnet on her head rounded the corner and walked up Meme’s street. She gave my car a quick glance but then continued on her journey.
“Geesh. That was close,” Theresa said from the back seat.
Meme sat back up and fifteen minutes later we arrived at Sam’s Clam Shack. It’s not really a shack though it looks like one from the outside with its weathered gray shingles. Inside there are booths along two walls and a few tables in the middle. It’s decorated like you would expect a New England beach shack to look complete with glass floats, lobster traps and a very big stuffed fish on one wall. The place always smells wonderful. Their linguine with seafood is superb and I decided on the spot to order it.
We gave our orders to the waitress and Meme took a sip of her wine and then looked at me.
“So what’s Penelope’s stepchildren like?”
I wasn’t surprised one bit Meme already knew about my running into Els and Wilhelm. My sister just couldn’t help herself. The good thing was I didn’t have to get into all the details. Whatever I told Sam, she told Meme and that meant Theresa was up to date as well. Instead, I asked my grandmother and Theresa if they remembered anything else from Friday night.
“Nope. But I think you should have another game when this is all cleared up and we should have teams. I want to play with Millie or Jean. They both played real good. I lost a lot of quarters to them,” Meme said. I knew she hated to lose and she probably wanted to win her money back.
“Millie played a hand, what was it called?” Theresa asked. “She said it was easy. I want to try it next time.”
“Dazzle,” Meme said. “I liked the one Jean tried to get, more challenging. The Christmas hand. I think she called it Christmas Spirit. She said it was a hard one but looked real nice on the rack when you won. She never could get all the tiles so she kept switching back to that easy hand too.”
“No wonder they both kept winning,” Theresa shook her head and I could tell she and Meme were already plotting their revenge for the next time we played.
“Anything else?” I looked at both of them.
Meme took another sip of wine. “Remember what Mary-Beth told us on Saturday about the conversation she overheard?”
I shook my head. “Which conversation?” I had heard so many things the last few days, I just couldn’t remember everything.
“Something about your one true love and then she met her husband?” Theresa added.
I took a sip of water and tried to focus on the conversation. “Right. That she met her one true love and then she met Pieter.”
“Maybe the picture you found is the one true love,” Theresa said.
Meme nodded. “Probably is or why keep it all these years?”
“I think you may be right. She was married to Pieter for quite a while, twenty or so years, so why have the other picture all this time unless she forgot about it,” I said.
“You never forget.” Meme shook her head.
The waitress arrived with our plates. The linguine came with chunks of fresh fish that looked and smelled wonderful. Meme and Theresa both had the catch of the day with garlic mashed potatoes and sautéed vegetables. We ate in silence for a few minutes. There didn’t seem to be much else to add on the subject of the picture. I mean, so what? Penelope had been in love with someone before she met Pieter, but then she married him for whatever reason. End of story.