69

Penny Hammel knew she should not take the chance of driving past the Owens farmhouse and being spotted by Gloria Evans. But as she told Bernie, she also knew that something was going on in that house and it was probably a drug deal. “And maybe there’s a reward,” she said. “You know you can be an anonymous caller, I mean they won’t blab all over the news that you’re the one who blew the whistle.”

There were times when Bernie didn’t mind being on the road so much, and one of those times was when Penny got it into her head that something mysterious was going on around her. “Honey, remember the time you thought that stray poodle you found was the missing champion that ran away in the airport? When you checked it out, he was a foot higher and twelve pounds heavier than the other one.”

“I know. But he was a nice dog, and then I advertised and his owner came for him.”

“Your thank-you was a bottle of the cheapest wine that guy could find in the liquor store,” Bernie reminded her.

“So what? The dog was so happy to be found.” Philosophically, Penny had shrugged off the incident. It was Saturday morning. Over breakfast they had seen the news clip of Alexandra Moreland leaving the station house last night still screaming denials that she had kidnapped her child. Penny had thoroughly reasserted her opinion of what should be done to that heartless mother.

Bernie was about to leave for an overnighter that would bring him back on Monday evening. Penny had reminded him several times that he absolutely could not miss the Lottery Winners’ reunion in Alvirah and Willy’s apartment on Tuesday evening.

He zipped up his jacket and pulled on his wool cap. It was then that he noticed that Penny was wearing her tracksuit and thick boots. “Are you going for a walk?” he asked. “It’s pretty cold out.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Penny said dismissively. “I’m considering going into town and stopping by to say hello to Rebecca.”

“You’re not going to walk into town, are you?”

“No, but I may do a little shopping or something.”

“Uh-huh. Well, just don’t overdo it.” Bernie planted a kiss on Penny’s cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, honey.”

“Drive carefully. If you get sleepy, be sure to pull over. Remember I love you and I don’t want to be a merry widow.”

It was their traditional parting when Bernie went on the road.

Penny gave him plenty of time to get out of town, then around ten o’clock went into the closet to get her heavy jacket, snow hat, and gloves. She had already put the binoculars on the sideboard behind a lamp where Bernie wouldn’t see them. I’ll park the car on the street that borders the end of Sy’s property, she thought, then I’ll sneak up and hang out in the woods for a while. It might be silly, but who knows? That Evans woman is up to something. I can feel it in my bones.

Twenty minutes later she was standing behind an evergreen tree with heavy branches. From there she had a good view of the house. She waited for nearly an hour and then, her hands and feet cold, decided to leave. It was at that moment that the side door of the farmhouse opened and she saw Gloria Evans come out carrying two suitcases.

She’s leaving now, Penny thought. What’s her big hurry? Rebecca said that she has thirty days to get out if the house sells. On the other hand, Rebecca told her that she was bringing the buyers in tomorrow for a look around the house. That’s probably what Missy Evans is worried about. Dollars to donuts, I’m right. What’s she got to hide in there?

Gloria Evans had put the suitcases in the trunk of her car and returned to the house. When she came out again, she was dragging an oversized trash bag that seemed to be heavy. That, too, she started to put in the trunk. As Penny watched, a paper fell out of the top of the bag and blew back into the yard. Evans looked after it, but did not chase it. Then she went back into the house and for the next half hour did not come out.

Too cold to wait any longer, Penny went back to her car. It was nearly noon and she drove straight into town. Rebecca had left a note on the door: “Back soon.”

Disappointed, Penny started to drive home but then, on an impulse, returned to her observation spot behind Sy’s farmhouse. This time to her chagrin, the Evans car was gone. Oh, boy, that means nobody’s in there, she thought and, holding her breath, walked up to the back of the house. The shades were drawn to the sill except for one of them that was raised about six inches. She peered in and could see into the kitchen with its heavy old furniture and linoleum floor. Can’t tell much from here, she thought. I wonder if she’s gone for good?

Making her way to the wooded area again, she saw that the sheet of paper that had blown away was caught on a shrub. Pleased, she ran to get it.

It was coloring paper and a childish hand had obviously sketched it. It had the outline of a woman’s face with long hair, a face that in some way resembled Evans. Under the sketch was a single word, “Mommy.”

So she has a kid, Penny thought, and she doesn’t want anyone to know it. I bet she’s hiding it from the father. That would be just her style. I wonder if she cut her hair recently. No surprise that she didn’t want me to see the toy truck. I know what I’ll do. I’ll call Alvirah and tell her—maybe she can trace Ms. Gloria Evans. Maybe if she’s been hiding a kid from his father, there’ll be a reward. Wouldn’t that really be a surprise for Bernie?

With a satisfied smile, Penny went back to the car, the drawing securely held between her gloved fingers. She laid it on the passenger seat, looked down at it, and frowned. Something was sticking in her mind, it felt like a sore tooth that was starting to throb again.

Darned if I know what, she thought as she started the car and drove away.