“Now I just have to figure out how to track Susan down through her marriage in 49 other states.”
“Don’t forget the territories, the District of Columbia, and all the foreign countries in the world.”
“Great. Thanks.” Annie sat on the couch beside Alice and started shuffling through the mail. “Bills, bills, and bills, it looks like. What did you decide about the harvest banquet?”
“It’s the pumpkin bread again.” Alice sighed dramatically. “My public demands it.”
“You know you could always …” Annie frowned at the envelope she held. “I wonder what this is. It couldn’t have come in the mail. There isn’t an address.”
Alice shrugged. “Maybe somebody brought it by. What’s in it?”
“Let’s see.”
Annie slit open the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper, half smiling as she looked at it. The letters were cut from the newspaper the way they did in old gangster movies. It had to be a joke, right?
Alice’s eyes showed her concern. “What is it?”
Annie let her read the message for herself.
FORGET ABOUT SUSAN AND MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.
****
“Mayor Butler’s office. May I help you?” Silver-haired Mrs. Nash waved at Annie and then spoke into the telephone receiver attached to her ear. “Yes, Mr. Price. Can you hold, please?”
She touched a button on the telephone on the desk and then smiled.
“Good morning, Mrs. Dawson. What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping to see the mayor.” Annie cringed inwardly. This whole thing seemed so silly now. “I—I don’t know whether it’s important, but I’d sure like to talk to him about something.”
“Hold on a minute.” Mrs. Nash touched another button on the telephone. “Mr. Butler, Mr. Price is on line 1, and Mrs. Dawson is here to see you.” She paused a moment. “Yes, sir, I’ll tell her.”
“I can come back if this is a bad time,” Annie offered. “It looks like he’s pretty busy.”
“He wants you to go right in.” Mrs. Nash gestured toward the door to the mayor’s office and then returned to the call she had placed on hold. “Mr. Price? The mayor would like to know if he can return your call in a few minutes.”
Ian opened the door before Annie could reach it, enveloping her hand in both of his.
“Come in, come in. Have a seat.” He closed the door after her and then rolled a padded leather chair up to the desk and offered it to her, his dark eyes warm. “Nothing like starting the morning with a visit from a pretty lady.”
She sat down, managing a little bit of a smile. “I’m really sorry to bother you with something so silly, but I just wasn’t sure if this was something the police should see.”
She handed him the anonymous note and waited for him to look it over.
He narrowed his eyes. “When did you get this?”
“It must have been pushed through my mail slot sometime yesterday. I don’t know when. I was in town most of the day.”
“Looking for information on this Susan, right?”
“You’ve been at The Cup & Saucer.”
“Word does get around.” Ian put the note down on his desk. “Who touched this after you opened it?”
“Just Alice. And you, of course. That’s all. I suppose I should have put it in a plastic bag or something to protect any fingerprints that were on it. It … well, it’s kind of hokey looking, don’t you think? I’m not sure if it isn’t somebody’s idea of a joke. As you said, word does get around. I have to admit, though, it creeped me out a bit to be all alone in the middle of the night.”
“That’s understandable. Where was it in the mail you picked up? On the top or the bottom?”
Annie shrugged. “I don’t remember. I was shuffling through all the letters and telling Alice about the stuff I got on Susan from the library and didn’t pay attention. Does it matter?”
“Maybe not. I just thought that it might give us an idea about whether it came before or after the regular mail delivery. What exactly did you find out about this woman, anyway?”
“Not much, really. Her parents and her aunt are the only relatives I know of, and they all died back in the late ’80s. I’m still trying to find out who Susan married back then, but so far that’s it.”
“Nothing strange about the deaths?”
“Not at all. Her parents were in a car accident, and her aunt died of pneumonia. It’s tragic, especially for a young girl suddenly left alone, but not mysterious. Now, though, I’m wondering why someone would take the trouble to leave me that message, and whether there’s more to the story.”