The Silver Anniversary Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

gloss. I rather liked it.
    I introduced myself and showed her the sketch. She looked at it carefully, then focused again on me. “I haven’t seen her for about a month.”
    “But you know her?”
    “Oh yeah. She came in every week or two. She was Ronda’s client.” She pointed to her left. “That’s Ronda over there.”
    “What’s this woman’s name?” I asked.
    “Rosette something. Wait a minute.” She turned back several pages of her appointment book. “Parker. Rosette Parker.”
    “Is she married?”
    “I think so. Ronda would know. She sees her hands all the time.”
    “When will Ronda be free?”
    She looked at her watch. “Five minutes. Tell her you want to talk to her. She has a little time before her next appointment. There was a cancellation this morning.”
    Ronda confirmed she would be free soon and told me to sit and make myself comfortable. I did as she suggested, finding a new issue of
Time
magazine on the rack. I had hardly gone through the table of contents when Ronda called me to follow her. We went downstairs to a basement kitchen and break room. A small microwave sat on a counter near the refrigerator. All the comforts of home.
    I explained what had happened without being too explicit. When I said a body had been found, Rondo drew in her breath and opened her eyes wide. I asked her to look at the sketch, and she quickly identified the face as belonging to Rosette Parker.
    “How long has she been your client?” I asked.
    “About two years. Maybe not that long. Could I look at that again?”
    I handed her the sketch, which seemed to mesmerize her. “Was she married?”
    “I’m pretty sure she was. She wore a thin diamond band on her left hand, very nice diamonds.”
    “Did she ever talk about her husband?”
    “She never talked about anything personal. She was pleasant and she tipped well and we talked, but I never heard her say much about her private life.”
    “What about children?” I asked.
    “I don’t know. I guess I assumed she had them because she was married and the right age, but I don’t think she ever mentioned them. She worked, I know that.”
    “Do you know where?”
    “Uh, maybe White Plains.” White Plains is a metropolitan center northeast of New York City, a great deal smaller than New York but the largest city in the area. It has department stores and the expected malls, buildings full of business offices, and too much traffic.
    “Did you ever see her car?”
    “I don’t know. She parked outside but I can’t say I ever—wait a minute. I think I once saw her get into a maroon SUV-type car.”
    That could be the one the Mitchells’ neighbors had seen filled with furniture a few weeks ago. “I don’t suppose you noticed a license plate,” I said with no hope that she had.
    She smiled. “Sorry. Uh, could I ask you something? When did Mrs. Parker die? The last time I saw her she seemed fine.”
    “She died a few weeks ago. When was the last time you saw her?”
    She calculated. “Three weeks ago? Four? It’ll be in the book at the desk.”
    “Did she tell you what kind of work she did?”
    “I think it was something in public relations. She saw clients, I know that. Every so often she’d tell me a little story about one of them, something funny that happened. One woman locked her purse in her car along with the key, and Mrs. Parker gave her lunch money and called the police to help her break into her car.”
    “Did she ever recommend anyone to be your client?”
    “Never. I’m sure of that.”
    I wasn’t surprised. When you’re using two names, you have to be very careful not to entangle your personas. “Was she a regular?”
    “Pretty regular. Sometimes she had to go out of town and she couldn’t come in.”
    “Does the shop have her phone number?”
    “They must. We have to be able to call in case there’s bad weather and I can’t get in or I’m sick or something like that. They should have it at the desk.”
    “Anything else you