It's a Wonderful Knife by Christine Wenger

on the floor.
    Perfume bottles, makeup, and jewelry were lying everywhere.
    Liz’s possessions, her special things, were discarded like yesterday’s birdcage liner. This was more than sad. It was horrible.
    And it obviously wasn’t a professional burglary, because it seemed as though valuable pieces of jewelry weren’t taken.
    So what was the amateur burglar looking for?
    Maybe it was the same thing that we were looking for.
    A little flash drive.
    â€œTrixie, I got the answering machine working!” ACB yelled from the other part of the house.
    â€œBe right there.”
    I crutched out and stood next to ACB. She hit play.
    â€œYou have reached Liz Fellows. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
    Beep. “You have three new messages and no saved messages.”
    â€œLiz, this is Sally from Harry’s Snow Removal and Lawn Care. I’m calling you at home because Darlene isn’t answering at the church’s main number. Anyway, the check you wrote to cover our snow removal of Sandy HarborCommunity Church’s parking lot in the amount of three hundred and twenty-five dollars has bounced. The returned check fee is fifty dollars. Please write us another check—one that won’t bounce (snort, chuckle)—and add that amount into the balance. Thank you.”
    Beep.
    â€œHey, Liz! It’s Lorraine from Lorraine’s Hairdo It Your Way. Darlene Robinson, you know . . . Pastor Fritz’s wife, owes my salon a chunk of change. Four hundred and fifty dollars, to be exact. She keeps writing checks and they keep bouncing. Half of that amount is fees. The other half is what she really owes me. I am at the end of my hair roots, so I decided to call you for help. It takes a village—I mean a hair salon—to keep Darlene’s hair dry and frizzy with Brass Glow number two-one-three-one (laugh) that I can’t talk her out of. I’m going to have to refuse service to her soon. Can you imagine her hair then? Can you help me out? And, by the way, your appointment is scheduled for Tuesday at five. See you then, and no Brass Glow two-one-three-one for you!”
    ACB shuddered. “Lorraine uses Posey Purple four-four-two-two on me. But when my roots grow out, it’s a horror. I can’t imagine Darlene’s hair if Lorraine bans her from Hairdo It Your Way.”
    Beep.
    â€œLiz, Pastor Fritz here. Would you mind coming in an hour early tomorrow morning? I have several very important things to discuss with you, and it’s for your ears only. I don’t want my wife or Roger to get wind of it. Thank you, Liz.”
    Beep.
    â€œEnd of messages.”
    I wonder if Liz had attended her meeting with Pastor Fritz. It would have been the morning of the auditions. The same day she died.
    And who was Roger?
    â€œAntoinette Chloe, these messages show that Darlene isn’t paying the bills. Their creditors must be desperate for them to ask Liz for payment. If there are two on the machine, there are probably a lot more who haven’t called yet,” I said.
    I needed to sit down, but where? I didn’t want to touch anything since I was smack-dab in the middle of another crime scene. So I kept looking for something
—
anything
—
that would help us find Liz’s killer.
    What I did see was a Sandy Harbor Sheriff’s car drive very slowly down Daffodil Street and pull over in front of Liz’s house. I knew immediately who was driving.
    â€œOh crap! Double crap! Antoinette Chloe, it’s Ty. I think he’s coming here. He can’t catch us! Let’s roll!”
    She looked as panicked as I felt. We both hurried to the back door. She flip-flopped as I crutched.
    ACB locked the door as I hopped down the stairs as if it were an Olympic event and assumed my position on the dolly.
    â€œHurry, Antoinette Chloe!”
    In her haste, she lost a