Page 60 of Little Last Words

“On the contrary. We’re great friends, though she’s a handful at times. Now, are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me find my dish?”

I got the impression if I tried to get her to leave without it, she’d cause a fuss. If helping her meant a speedier exit so I could get on with my day, I was willing to give her a hand.

“What does it look like, and where haven’t you looked?” I asked.

She gave me a brief description and then pointed at a couple of cabinets behind me. “Haven’t checked those yet. If you look in there, I’ll finish going through these.”

I nodded and opened one of the cabinet doors. As I moved a few bowls around, I felt something under one of them. I turned the bowl over and saw a notecard, something the police must have missed during their processing of the house. It was the size of a business card and looked like it was from a florist shop.

On the card were the words:

It’s great to have you back. I missed you.It’s time to put the past behind us. Let’s talk.

There was no signature.

The card could have come from any number of people, or it could have come from the man who’d professed his love for her right before she died.

I rummaged around the drawers for a Ziploc bag.

I found one, and I slipped the card inside.

“What do you have there?” Polly asked.

“Just a notecard I found.”

It seemed like she was going to probe further until her eyes widened and she said, “I found it!”

She grabbed the casserole dish out of the cabinet, and we headed for the door. When I opened the door, Rita was standing there, just about to knock. She narrowed her eyes at Polly and said, “What areyoudoing here?”

“Looking for my casserole dish,” Polly said. “There was no need to get the detective involved, you know.”

“I wouldn’t have if you’d told me you were here, Polly.”

“Not every move I make needs to be announced to you, Rita.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Polly said, “I have things to do. I’ll see you both later.”

As Polly started for home, Rita looked at me and shrugged. “False alarm, I guess.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke to your husband this morning.”

She raised a brow. “Just how long is this conversation going to be?”

“Why?”

“I have bread baking.”

“And I have a lot to do today, so if I could just ask my questions, we can both get on with it.”

Rita glanced at her watch. “Come over to my place. I’ll slice us both a piece of bread, and we’ll talk.”

“Some of my questions relate to Aaron. Is he home?”

“He’s taken the car to get new tires. I don’t expect him back for at least another hour.”