Free Happiness Key by Emilie Richards Page A

The woman straightened her shoulders and glared at Tracy.
    Wanda Gray. Dressed in black spandex leggings and an equally tight black T-shirt, like some sort of white trash ninja.
    Tracy felt herself relax, then she tensed again with righteous anger. “You scared me to death! What do you think you’re doing here? And how did you get in?”
    Wanda reached in her pocket. For a moment Tracy wasn’t sure what to do, then Wanda swung a key in her direction on a spiral chain.
    “Herb gave me his extra key. On account of him being so old and all. I think he expected me to come over now and then if I didn’t see him outside, and check to be sure he wasn’t lying on the floor with a broken hip or worse.”
    “And that’s what you’re doing?” Tracy tried to sound cooler and calmer than her elevated heart rate dictated.“You’re searching the cabinets to see if he’s in there with a broken hip?”
    “No need to get smart. I know he’s gone.” Wanda snapped her fingers. “Like that. The Symington fellow told me. Of course, Mr. Symington wasn’t the one that found poor Herb. The one that found him didn’t bother to tell his neighbors he was dead.”
    There was too much truth in that, but Tracy didn’t blink. “Maybe if you’d used that key the way Herb wanted you to, you would have been the one to find him, and you would have gotten all the bad news firsthand.”
    Wanda didn’t say anything.
    “What are you doing here?” Tracy said.
    “I brought him some pie last week, in my special pie dish. My daughter gave it to me, and she’s not all that good at gifts. One year she gave me a pair of brown suede earth shoes, like she actually thought I might wear them. That dish is a winner, though. I didn’t want somebody coming in and taking it home just because they like it.”
    “Why didn’t you just tell me, so we could look for it together?”
    Wanda snorted.
    “Not to put too fine a point on it, but I’ve gone a lot of years without baking a pie, and I see a lot more in my future.” Tracy saw a switch and flipped it so the overhead light came on. “Come on, let’s see if we can find it.”
    “You just want to see if I’m telling the truth.”
    Tracy supposed that was a little bit true. But mostly she just wanted Wanda to go home. “What does it look like?”
    She listened as Wanda described the dish, then she started opening cabinets. Glasses in one, just a few, which gave her a pang. Some plates in another, a few saucersand bowls. More pangs. No need for enough dishes to entertain, she guessed.
    “Did Mr. Krause have any friends?” she asked. “You knew him better than I did. I guess, more important, did he have family? Because the funeral home took his money, but not his information.”
    “Memorial, right? Somebody at work told me Memorial will be after me soon enough, too. They probably got to Herb and didn’t take the time to do the thing right. Busy canvassing everybody over fifty who hasn’t laid down their money.”
    “So do you? Know anything about him?” Tracy asked. Her search had turned up nothing, but as she watched, Wanda pulled a ceramic pie plate out of a cupboard, followed closely by a lid that looked like the top crust of a pie.
    “Well, here it is.” Wanda held it out. “Close enough to my description for you to believe me?”
    “I never accused you of trying to steal his pie dish. That chip on your shoulder must tip a lot of scales. You just surprised me by being here in the dark, rummaging through his cupboards.”
    “I didn’t want to have to go into the whole story.”
    “I guess you don’t want to tell me if he has friends or family, either. So I’ll have to play detective, maybe? Give me something else to worry about?”
    “You having a little pity party over there by the sink? Don’t worry none about inviting me.”
    “Glad you found the pie plate. You can let yourself out.” Tracy went back into the living room, snapping on the lamp so the cottage was now