Page 25 of The Murder Club

Janet leaned forward, as if she was about to share a secret. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but the woman was a drinker,” she said in low tones. “I’d often see her out late at night, wandering around her backyard with a glass in her hand.”

“An alcoholic?”

“I can’t go that far,” Janet corrected her, obviously uneasy at sharing her suspicions. “But her maid also cleans for my sister, and she told her that the old woman went through two or three bottles of gin every week. And the few times we spoke I could smell the alcohol on her breath. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when I heard that she’d fallen.”

Bailey nodded, forcing herself to concede that it was increasingly likely that this was nothing more than an accident. She was an old woman who was no doubt upset from her argument with her grandson. Add in alcohol and it was a recipe for disaster.

“That makes sense,” she murmured, unable to shake the feeling that she was missing something. Something obvious.

“What’s bothering you?” Janet asked.

She tried to imagine the old woman heading out to the patio, a drink in her hand, as she fumed over her annoying relative. Was she headed toward one of the chairs? It was too cold for a swim . . .

Abruptly, Bailey realized exactly what was troubling her. “The newspaper article mentioned that she died in an empty pool.”

Janet nodded. “Yeah, I saw the van for the pool guys in front of her house a few weeks ago.”

“It seems odd that she would have her pool emptied but not covered.”

“Wait.” Janet’s brow furrowed, as if she was searching through her memories. “I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I would swear that I saw the cover on the pool when I glanced in the backyard a couple of days ago.”

“So, did something happen that she had to take it off?” Bailey shrugged. She’d never had a pool. Honestly, she didn’t know anyone who did. She had no idea if the wind could blow off a cover, or if there might be some other reason to remove it. “Certainly something to think about.” There was a loud bark from Ernie, who was clearly impatient with being trapped in the truck. Time to move along. “Has there been anything else unusual in the neighborhood?” she asked, realizing she wasn’t as good at being a detective as she’d assumed.

So far all she knew was that Pauline Hartford may or may not have had an argument with her grandson, that she may or may not have been drunk, and that the cover hadn’t been over her pool.

Zac didn’t have to worry about her taking over his job as sheriff anytime soon.

“Not really.” Janet glanced toward her house. “Between you and me, it’s pretty boring around here.”

“Trust me, boring isn’t a bad thing,” she assured Janet.

Climbing into the truck, she put it in gear and drove back to Pike. She parked in the attached garage and herded the dogs into the fenced-in backyard to do their business. A part of her knew that she was avoiding the moment when she had to step into the empty house.

She never missed her grandmother more than she did now, she acknowledged with a small sigh. Normally she kept herself too busy to notice that she lived alone. She had her job, her friends, and the Murder Club to keep her occupied. It was only when she had endless hours stretching before her that she realized she wasn’t overly fond of me time.

Trying to shake off her dark mood, she forced herself to concentrate on the dogs, who’d immediately raced to the back porch to sniff something near the door.

“No,” she called out, hurrying toward the house.

There was a stray cat in the neighborhood who took inordinate pleasure in tormenting the dogs. The last encounter ended with Ernie nursing a scratched ear and Bailey’s favorite flowerpot smashed beyond repair. She was hoping to prevent any more damage.

Leaping onto the porch, she breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered it wasn’t a cat but a large envelope near the door. Her next-door neighbor must have put it there while she was gone. There wasn’t much crime in Pike, but it was better to avoid temptation, and Dorinda would often grab any deliveries that had been left for Bailey and store them out of sight.

It was one of the upsides of living in a small town.

Unlocking the door, she grabbed the envelope and herded her dogs into the kitchen. Then, flipping on the lights, she wandered toward the table as she ripped open the package to reveal a small jewelry box. Bailey frowned. She didn’t remember ordering anything, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d agreed to buy something from one of her resident’s grandkids. She had a whole freezer filled with Girl Scout cookies, candy bars, and pizzas.

Pulling off the lid of the box, she felt a stab of surprise at the sight of the pearl necklace that was nestled against the black velvet. Okay, this wasn’t anything she’d ordered. She might have forgotten a box of cookies or even a T-shirt, but a necklace? And it looked expensive. Even in the dim light, the pearls glowed with a luminous beauty.

Placing the box on the table, she grabbed the envelope and turned it over. The address was hers, but there was no name. And the return address was too smudged to read. Obviously it was a mistake. Like the package of seeds that had randomly arrived in her mailbox last year or the magazine subscription that she was still trying to cancel.

With a shrug, she left the box on the table. She wasn’t worried about the necklace, but it was weird. She’d recently seen pearls. But where?

She had the dogs watered and nestled on their beds in the spare bedroom when she at last recalled where she’d seen the pearls. With a muttered curse, she rushed to the kitchen where she kept her laptop on the table. It was the only place she could work without the dogs jumping on her.

Settling in one of the wooden chairs, she opened her computer and typed in the search engine. A second later the news report of Pauline Hartford’s death popped up, along with a picture of a silver-haired woman with hard gray eyes. It was obviously a professional photograph, perhaps taken during her days as a superintendent, but Bailey wasn’t interested in the older woman’s stern expression or the arrogant tilt to her chin.

It was the pearl necklace hanging around her neck that had Bailey reaching for her phone to send a quick text.

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