“No,” Sean said with a brief grin. “But here’s the weird thing. The witness, Mr. Andrews, looked out again about twenty minutes later—he’s not completely sure of the time—and saw someone leaving the house.” He paused. “But this time it was a woman.”

THIRTY-FIVE

“A woman?” I almost dropped my quiche-laden fork. “So Mrs. Taylor had two visitors that night?”

“Looks like it,” Sean said. “And it seems more likely that the woman might have been the killer.”

“Could Mr. Andrews describe anything about the woman?”

“Not much,” Sean said with a rueful grimace. “The only thing he could say was that she wasn’t very tall. Neither was the man, apparently. The significant bit is that she was carrying a big box as she left.”

“She was taking away Mrs. Taylor’s files. That clinches it.” I was excited by the new discovery. Then a question occurred to me. “He was sure the person with the box was a woman? Couldn’t it have been the man?”

“He says it wasn’t. The head was bigger, like the second person had a lot more hair than the first one.”

I mulled that over. “The man might have been Gordon Betts, and I suppose the woman could have been Della Duffy. I think they’re about the same height. Well, if Della Duffy was wearing heels, she would be.”

“Kanesha said she would question both of them today about their whereabouts that night.” Sean sipped at his beer. He gestured with the bottle toward the scrapbook, box, and newsletters on the table. “I presume you’re doing research with those.”

I explained quickly what they were. “I’ve been through probably a third of the newsletters, but so far I can’t see that I have run across anything pertinent to the murder. They may be one big red herring.”

“You might find something significant yet.” Sean forked up a bite of quiche.

“Maybe.” I felt less sanguine about the prospects, but I knew I had to plow on through the rest of the newsletters as well as the scrapbook.

“I wish I had time to help you,” Sean said, “but I need to go back to the office for a couple of hours. Another case I’m working on. There’s not much else I can do for Mr. Eagleton right now.”

“I appreciate it, but I’ll muddle through. Although if Laura or Stewart should happen to wander in, I might co-opt one of them.” I grinned.

“You’re out of luck,” Sean said. “Laura and Frank drove over to Cleveland last night for a visit with his mother. I think Stewart is busy this weekend, too. I doubt you’ll see him until this evening.”

I had forgotten about Laura’s plans with Frank. “So much for that idea. Too bad Diesel can’t read,” I said.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Sean said wryly. “That’s one smart cat.”