40

After the cozy dinner she had shared with her friend Rebecca, and the fact that they both had enjoyed several glasses of wine, Penny had slept soundly through the night and even allowed herself the luxury of bringing her morning cup of coffee back to bed. Propped up on pillows, she had watched the news on television. Once again the Central Park photos of Zan Moreland taking her child out of the stroller and the others of her being carried to the ambulance were briefly shown.

“Unless those photos are proven to be doctored, in my opinion, the arrest of Alexandra Moreland is imminent,” the network’s legal expert explained on the Today show.

“Should have happened yesterday!” Penny barked to the television screen. “What are they waiting for, a sign from heaven?” Shaking her head, she got out of bed a second time, put on a warm robe, and carried the coffee cup to the kitchen, where she began to prepare her usual generous breakfast.

Bernie phoned as she was running the last scrap of toast over the plate to catch the remnants of the yolk of her fried egg. His voice sounded disgruntled as he told her that it would be another couple of hours before the truck was fixed, so he wouldn’t get home till midafternoon. “Hope you and Rebecca didn’t eat all the pot roast,” he told her.

“More than plenty for you,” Penny assured him before saying good-bye. Men, she thought, shaking her head indulgently. He’s upset because he’s stuck in a gas station in King of Prussia, and he’s trying to find a reason to get mad so he can have a fight with me and get it off his chest. I should have told him that Rebecca and I ate the whole thing and tonight we’re having frozen pizza.

As she loaded the dishwasher, Penny saw that the mailman was delivering to their box at the end of the driveway. After his van disappeared, she tightened the belt on her robe and hurried outside. Spring may have just arrived, but boy you’d never know it, she thought, as she opened the box, closed her hand on the small pile of letters, and at an even quicker pace made her way back to the warmth of the house.

The first few envelopes were solicitations from various charities. The next contained a fingernail-sized sample of a new facial cream. The last envelope brought an unconscious smile to Penny’s face. It was from Alvirah Meehan. Quickly she ripped it open. It was a notice that the semiannual meeting of the Lottery Winners’ Support Group was being held the following week in Alvirah and Willy’s apartment.

Alvirah had written a personal note on the notice. “Dear Penny, hope you and Bernie can make it. Always so good to be with you.”

We can make it, Penny thought happily, as she mentally reviewed Bernie’s schedule. I’d love to get her opinion on that More-land woman now. I know Alvirah’s been friendly with her.

The sense of pleasant anticipation wore off as Penny went upstairs, showered, and dressed. Something was gnawing at her and it had to do with that snippy Gloria Evans, who was renting the Owens farmhouse. It wasn’t just the fact that Gloria Evans had been so rude when I gave her the blueberry muffins, and it wasn’t just the toy truck on the floor, Penny decided. That woman was supposed to be finishing a book, but even writers who want privacy don’t practically slam the door in a person’s face, do they?

Penny was by nature thrifty. That was why another thing that Rebecca had told her about Gloria Evans—that Evans didn’t bat an eye about paying for a year’s lease when she only planned to stay for three months—seemed strange.

There’s something going on with that lady, she decided. She wasn’t just being rude. She was downright nervous when she answered the door. I wonder if she’s doing something illegal, like selling drugs out of there? No one would know if someone came late at night and turned onto that dead-end road. Sy’s is the only house on it.

I’d love to keep an eye on the place, she thought. The trouble is, if Gloria Evans happens to be at the window she’ll see me driving past, then turning around and coming back. If she is up to anything, I’d be tipping her off.

As Penny, her lips pursed, applied bright red lipstick, her only tribute to glamour, she began to laugh, smearing the lipstick on her cheek. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said aloud. “I know what’s bugging me about that Evans bird. She reminds me of the Moreland woman. Isn’t that a riot? Wait till I tell Alvirah that I was trying to hatch a mystery. She’ll get a real laugh out of that!”