Free Hanging Hannah by Evan Marshall Page A

that’s what she’s calling about.”
    â€œWill do,” Daniel replied cheerfully, and the intercom light went out.
    She stared at the pile of work on her desk, but it soon blurred, to be replaced by a collage of haunting images.
    A pretty young woman walking along a country road, excited about a “wonderful surprise.”
    A young woman waiting in a cave for a kind stranger to return with food and drink.
    A young woman walking at the edge of the deep woods behind Hydrangea House, peering out at the trees . . . an outsider looking in....
    A young woman hanging by her neck from a tree, her face garishly made up. CLOWN GIRL . . .
    Jane shook herself. It was all too awful to contemplate. She thought about poor Doris, so worried about Arthur, whom she had never mentioned in all the years Jane had known her, in all the meetings of the Defarge Club they had attended together. Surely she couldn’t be ashamed of or embarrassed by Arthur because he was retarded. No, Doris was too enlightened to feel that way. Then why had she never mentioned him? Was it perhaps because he wasn’t at all the kind, easygoing sort Doris had just painted a picture of? Did he have some history of violence that made Doris now think he could have hurt that poor girl? As Nick had reminded Jane, it was she herself who had said never to trust the way things appear—a sad way to have to live, but especially necessary nowadays.
    There was a soft knock, and Daniel came in with the mail. He walked to Jane’s desk, searched for a clear spot, and placed the stack at the extreme right edge. Then he scrutinized Jane, his eyes narrowed.
    She looked up and met his gaze. “What?”
    â€œAnything you’d like to talk about?”
    Jane smiled. Now that Kenneth was gone, Daniel knew her better than anyone. Or was she simply that transparent? Doris’s visit alone would have made Daniel wonder what was going on.
    Jane did confide most everything to Daniel, and he never betrayed her confidence. She nodded, and he sat down facing her. Slowly, trying to recall every detail, she told him what Doris had said. When she was finished, he sat looking more shocked than she would have expected.
    â€œWow,” he said slowly. “Doris’s nephew might have done that to that poor girl.”
    â€œDoris doesn’t think so,” Jane said. “Or at least she says she doesn’t think so. I’ve never met this Arthur, have you?”
    â€œNo, but I’ve seen him.”
    â€œReally? Where?”
    He thought for a moment, rising. “The last time would have been about a year ago. He was at the church bazaar with Doris. That’s coming up soon, you know. You going?”
    â€œOf course! Who in Shady Hills misses the church bazaar?”
    â€œLaura loves it,” Daniel said at the door.
    â€œTell her to buy jewelry from Rob.”
    â€œI’ve seen his jewelry,” Daniel said with a smile. “Even in friendship, there’s a limit.” He was laughing to himself as he went out.
    She had to laugh, too. Rob’s stuff was pretty awful. She kept to her work, called Bill Haddad, duly stroked him, vetted two contracts, rejected some manuscripts, and when she wasn’t thinking about work, she tried to force herself to think about the church bazaar instead of Arthur. But she knew she was just procrastinating, and remembering one of Kenneth’s favorite sayings, “Do the worst first!” she picked up the phone, called the police station, and asked to speak to Detective Greenberg.
    â€œMrs. Stuart,” he said brightly. “What can I do for you?”
    â€œThis is very awkward. I don’t know quite how to say it. It’s about that poor girl we found in the woods on Sunday. I have something to speak to you about, but I’d really rather do it in person. May I come over to your office and see you?”
    â€œI have a better idea. Why don’t I meet you at