Candace said, “Hi, Karen. Long time, no see. Karen, this is my friend Jillian.” She turned to look at me. “Karen is Ed’s closest, um,
She nodded. “What Candy means is that we usually spend the night together. I assume this is our widow, Ms. Hart, the one we have all heard so much about?”
“That’s me. Nice to meet you, Karen,” I said.
She eyed me with an inscrutable stare that made my stomach tighten up again. Finally she said, “You are not at all what I pictured. Why, you’re immensely attractive. I suppose I was expecting the devil incarnate after I heard about the murder.” The smile she offered came more from her deep blue eyes than from her lips.
Candace came to my defense again. “She didn’t kill anyone.”
“I’m sure you are correct. She doesn’t look the least bit evil.” Now Karen smiled.
Ed said, “Sweet Pea, what brings you back?”
“Forgot my hat,” she said. “You two ladies can surely understand why a woman might forget something in this place. I would be more accurate saying I lost my hat and I am hoping it’s not been crushed under a pile of junk.”
Ed whipped out a black cloche from beneath the counter. “Would this be what you’re looking for, Sweet Pea?”
“You know it would. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I seem to have arrived at precisely the correct moment.” She looked at me. “God works in mysterious ways, and though I believed I came about a hat, it would seem I have arrived to keep an otherwise kind and honest man from presenting a falsehood to, of all people, a policeperson.”
Candace focused on Ed. “And what falsehood would that be?”
“Why, I have no idea what Miss Karen is talking about.” But his cheeks were flushed.
“Edwin Duffy, you tell the truth or I will be forced to do it for you,” Karen said.
He hung his head. “Okay, okay,” he said, hands held up in surrender. “I don’t toss the flyers.”
“There’s more,” Karen said. “God is offering you an opportunity to be forthright and you should honor His bidding.”
“What
Karen gave him a stern look. “You know I am perfectly aware of this affliction of yours, Ed. What exactly
He took his time answering, but at last, in barely a whisper, he said, “Nothing.”
“Oh my,” she cried. “I am so proud of you for speaking the truth out loud. So very proud.” And with that, she practically leaped over tables and toys and came around the counter. She hugged him for what seemed a very long time while Candace and I stood and watched. I didn’t know about Candace, but I was baffled.
After several kisses, which marked Ed’s mouth with Karen’s bright red lipstick, he turned to us. “I have the flyers. Just haven’t had time to sort through and file them.”
Karen offered a dismissive laugh and addressed us. “That filing system is a trunk in the back room. And when the trunk gets full, the flyers and whatever else he’s gathered from people’s lawns or out of ditches or what’s meant for the garbage collector is transferred to a cardboard box and dated.”
Ed squared his shoulders. “It is my belief that what is offered to me on the streets of Mercy is valuable, even though the city wants to throw it all out. See, you two have come searchin’ for something, and I believe that’s proof that I have collected an important piece of—well, I don’t know, but it’s something.”
I cocked my head. “You know what, Ed? You might just be right.”
Karen rolled her eyes. “Please do not encourage the man.”
“That’s not our intent,” Candace said.
“Oh, sweetheart, I know that. It’s just that Ed and I have been working on his problem with him collecting stuff, mostly because we need to downsize. I read all about this downsizing idea in the money magazines. When you’re ready to retire, that’s one of the first steps.”
“Could we have a look at all the papers you’ve collected over the last few months?” I said.
“It’s only a bunch of paper,” Karen said.
“But what Ed’s collected might provide a clue as to who killed Flake Wilkerson,” Candace said. “Might tell us other people who’ve lost cats in the last few months. See, a few kitties were found in the house, and maybe somebody is sorely missing them.”
“Missing them enough to kill the man?” Karen asked.
“I’m not saying that for sure,” Candace explained. “But it’s a place to start.”
Ed turned on his amazing smile. “In that case, have at it, ladies.”
The two of them led us to a hallway to the right—no easy task with a treadmill and a slew of old computer monitors in the way. We had been standing in what must have been the living room of the old house, and now we passed a kitchen on our right—at least I thought I saw a refrigerator and a stove. But this had apparently become the kitchen item collection spot. Blenders, microwaves, tables, even sheets of Formica filled the space.
To the left, however, was a tidy and usable bathroom, and up ahead a bedroom that was neat and habitable.
