Wading Into Murder by Joan Dahr Lambert

directions before he crossed the street.
    “I wish he would leave the whole thing alone,” she lamented, “his grandmother too. You’d think seeing a second person almost run down would convince them that the situation could get dangerous, but I don’t think it has. I can’t imagine why they are so determined to get involved.”
    Violet’s forehead creased with worry. “Nor can I,” she agreed. “It doesn’t make any sense, especially since William is the most likely person to be hurt.”
    Laura’s mouth tightened. Violet was right. William really might become the next victim unless she found out what was going on soon. She had said she would leave the investigation to the police, but that didn’t seem to be working. Besides, she was tired of being a target. She didn’t have any practice at making herself invisible, but she did know a few things about disguise after her experiences last year.
    Claudine joined her as she walked back to the bus, and Laura saw with surprise that she no longer had her shopping bag. “What happened to the things you bought?” Laura asked impulsively.
    Claudine looked flustered, almost frightened. She seemed to be casting around for an answer. Then she spotted her husband, who was already standing beside the bus, and pointed at him. “He told me to take them all back,” she hissed, and the underlying fury in her tone made Laura wince. “He said they were too extravagant.” 
    Claudine’s lips closed tightly after the outburst, as if she regretted the words, and Laura didn’t have the heart to question her further.
    Who was lying? Laura performed a quick mental calculation and decided it had to be Claudine. There hadn’t been time for Dr. Bernstein to find her and for her to return the clothes. Returning items often took longer than buying them.
    Another thought popped into her mind. Claudine might not have bought anything at all. Maybe what had been in the missing bag was her husband’s disguise.
    Laura watched carefully as the bus negotiated the narrow street past the psychic’s shop and the next one, where Claudine had lingered. When the bus turned, she saw that there was an alley behind the shops where owners put out their trash, and each had a back door that led to it. Maybe Claudine had gone out the back door of her shop, he out of his, and they had met in that alley. The shopping bag could have contained first his disguise, then his own clothes, then the revealing disguise again, which had been left behind, probably in a rubbish bin.
    Tonight, she would go to the alley and see what she could find.

    ***************
    Getting away without arousing suspicion proved harder than Laura had anticipated. People lingered over dinner, chatting compulsively, and Alan insisted on escorting her to her room and checking it once they got there. “I want to make sure there are no intruders in your closet,” he joked, but he didn’t go to the door once he had looked into them, only half humorously, but stood looking at her thoughtfully.
    “You are an unusual woman,” he commented in a soft tone that made Laura wonder if he had other motives besides a security check. She had pegged him as a man who wouldn’t be averse to a brief romance if one came his way, but surely he didn’t have her in mind?
    “And a weary one,” she countered, standing rather stiffly by the door.
     “You are sure you will be all right?” Alan persisted. “I shall be just down the hall, in number fifteen.”
    “I will be fine,” she assured him, wondering if that had been a veiled invitation to join him if she wanted. “Violet should be here later, too.”
    Alan laughed. “You’ll make a pretty tough pair.” Reluctantly, he started for the door, and Laura stepped aside to let him pass.
    “Goodnight,” he said, and gave her such a charming smile that she began to wonder all over again whether she was imagining things. Maybe after all, he was just a very nice man who was concerned for her