dear? I made them fresh this morning."
Kate accepted a melt-in-the-mouth butter cookie from the plate and planned her next question. "So, did you begin working for the Nethercutts once they returned to Hazelton?"
"I've always worked for the Lane family. That's Miss Amelia's maiden name," she explained. A well-fed calico sauntered in, melding beautifully with the surroundings. "Ah, Lady Puss, you're gracing us with your presence, I see."
"What a beautiful cat."
"Yes, a gift from Miss Amelia." Mrs. Baxter leaned down to scratch the cat's chin. "Rescued from one of the backyard trees, and she didn't have the heart to call the animal shelter."
"You've been a longtime friend, then?"
"All my life, dear. My mother was the family cook. My father tended the automobiles. I was scullery maid, pastry assistant, and childhood friend, whichever was appropriate to the moment. Miss Amelia had to let everyone go after her parents died, what with her getting married and living abroad. But once she remarried this last time to Mr. Daniel, and returned to Hazelton, I was the first person she called."
"Sounds like she thought a lot of you."
"Of my talents, you mean." Mrs. Baxter gave a brisk nod. "Knew I learned beside my mother, and Miss Amelia always adored her cooking. We needed more help around the place, to dust and straighten everything, but Miss Amelia was tight regarding daily people. Only had a crew come in once a week."
Here was a new angle. "When were they last in the house?"
"The Friday after Mr. Daniel's funeral." Mrs. Baxter sighed. "A lovely service. The minister did Mr. Daniel right, though the Nethercutts' idea of church attendance was to do little more than send in the tithes they wrote off on their taxes at year-end. But, I never knew a man better than Mr. Daniel, and he deserved every fine word spoken over him."
Okay, the cleaning people were out unless one of them had a key. Made a wax impression at some time? Was anything taken? She couldn't remember hearing anything like that in the police station, but Sophia said something the day they'd met. "Did the officers mention missing items when they interviewed you?"
"I was traumatized over finding the body." Mrs. Baxter answered in non sequitur fashion, her drifting gaze showing a mind firmly elsewhere, across time and space to the previous day, standing once more in the deadly parlor. Kate shivered as she watched the age-spotted hands shake at the memory, and return the cup to its saucer.
"I'm sorry—"
"Such an agonized expression." Mrs. Baxter's eyes glossed over. Her right hand covered her own face at temple and cheek.
Kate recognized the signs. Mrs. Baxter was revisiting a trauma to which the cook had never meant to return and now couldn't forget. She tried to switch the subject, but Mrs. Baxter blazed on, apparently past any diverting effort. Her need for exorcising the memory remained too great to easily overcome.
"Miss Amelia had been in tremendous pain, clutching her middle. I'll forever associate the smell of vomit with the poor woman," Mrs. Baxter recounted. "Overpowering, I tell you. I grabbed Mr. Walker's arm. He was her attorney and just arrived for an appointment. If he hadn't helped me to a chair I think I would have fainted dead away. Oh!"
Kate patted Mrs. Baxter's hand in sympathy. She remembered what the lieutenant had said the night before about the body's discovery. While she knew it was unreasonable and unfair, she wished the attorney had seen Amelia first and stopped this poor woman from stumbling onto the sight.
Mrs. Baxter shook her head. "Mr. Walker took charge. We saw him ringing the front bell as Mr. William and I drove up. But, of course, Miss Amelia never answered the door herself. I called from the car window, and he walked around the back to come in with Mr. Thomas and myself."
"You mean Amelia's son," Kate clarified. "Why didn't he let the lawyer inside?"
"Couldn't hear the door chimes out in the garage." Mrs. Baxter's gaze
Kate accepted a melt-in-the-mouth butter cookie from the plate and planned her next question. "So, did you begin working for the Nethercutts once they returned to Hazelton?"
"I've always worked for the Lane family. That's Miss Amelia's maiden name," she explained. A well-fed calico sauntered in, melding beautifully with the surroundings. "Ah, Lady Puss, you're gracing us with your presence, I see."
"What a beautiful cat."
"Yes, a gift from Miss Amelia." Mrs. Baxter leaned down to scratch the cat's chin. "Rescued from one of the backyard trees, and she didn't have the heart to call the animal shelter."
"You've been a longtime friend, then?"
"All my life, dear. My mother was the family cook. My father tended the automobiles. I was scullery maid, pastry assistant, and childhood friend, whichever was appropriate to the moment. Miss Amelia had to let everyone go after her parents died, what with her getting married and living abroad. But once she remarried this last time to Mr. Daniel, and returned to Hazelton, I was the first person she called."
"Sounds like she thought a lot of you."
"Of my talents, you mean." Mrs. Baxter gave a brisk nod. "Knew I learned beside my mother, and Miss Amelia always adored her cooking. We needed more help around the place, to dust and straighten everything, but Miss Amelia was tight regarding daily people. Only had a crew come in once a week."
Here was a new angle. "When were they last in the house?"
"The Friday after Mr. Daniel's funeral." Mrs. Baxter sighed. "A lovely service. The minister did Mr. Daniel right, though the Nethercutts' idea of church attendance was to do little more than send in the tithes they wrote off on their taxes at year-end. But, I never knew a man better than Mr. Daniel, and he deserved every fine word spoken over him."
Okay, the cleaning people were out unless one of them had a key. Made a wax impression at some time? Was anything taken? She couldn't remember hearing anything like that in the police station, but Sophia said something the day they'd met. "Did the officers mention missing items when they interviewed you?"
"I was traumatized over finding the body." Mrs. Baxter answered in non sequitur fashion, her drifting gaze showing a mind firmly elsewhere, across time and space to the previous day, standing once more in the deadly parlor. Kate shivered as she watched the age-spotted hands shake at the memory, and return the cup to its saucer.
"I'm sorry—"
"Such an agonized expression." Mrs. Baxter's eyes glossed over. Her right hand covered her own face at temple and cheek.
Kate recognized the signs. Mrs. Baxter was revisiting a trauma to which the cook had never meant to return and now couldn't forget. She tried to switch the subject, but Mrs. Baxter blazed on, apparently past any diverting effort. Her need for exorcising the memory remained too great to easily overcome.
"Miss Amelia had been in tremendous pain, clutching her middle. I'll forever associate the smell of vomit with the poor woman," Mrs. Baxter recounted. "Overpowering, I tell you. I grabbed Mr. Walker's arm. He was her attorney and just arrived for an appointment. If he hadn't helped me to a chair I think I would have fainted dead away. Oh!"
Kate patted Mrs. Baxter's hand in sympathy. She remembered what the lieutenant had said the night before about the body's discovery. While she knew it was unreasonable and unfair, she wished the attorney had seen Amelia first and stopped this poor woman from stumbling onto the sight.
Mrs. Baxter shook her head. "Mr. Walker took charge. We saw him ringing the front bell as Mr. William and I drove up. But, of course, Miss Amelia never answered the door herself. I called from the car window, and he walked around the back to come in with Mr. Thomas and myself."
"You mean Amelia's son," Kate clarified. "Why didn't he let the lawyer inside?"
"Couldn't hear the door chimes out in the garage." Mrs. Baxter's gaze
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