Free The Alpine Menace by Mary Daheim

Vida fibbed. “Not really.”
    I remembered to ask about the dog, but I had to be cagey since I wasn't supposed to know he existed. I brought up the subject by noting that the carpet and some of the upholstery had been chewed.
    “That darned dog,” Henrietta said as we finally moved out of the tiny hallway and into the bedroom. “He drove me crazy when they left him tied up outside. Sometimeshe'd bark half the night, especially if they forgot to let him in. I haven't seen him since the night of the murder.”
    The double bed had been stripped, the closet had been cleaned out except for some shoes, and it looked as if Kendra had been working on the bureau when she quit. One drawer was bare except for a sachet, but the others were still full. The white wicker dressing table was also partially emptied.
    “Does Kendra have an apartment?” I inquired as we headed back into the living room.
    “I don't think so,” Henrietta replied. “She graduated from high school last June, but she still lives at home as far as I know.”
    “Where did Carol work?” I asked, realizing that Vida hadn't joined us.
    “At a seafood packing place in Ballard,” Henrietta told me. “Carol mentioned she was trying to get Kendra a job up in Alaska for the summer at a cannery. The pay's so good, you know.”
    “Carol seems to have taken a real interest in her daughter's life,” I remarked as Vida entered in her splayfooted manner.
    Henrietta nodded. “She did for a fact. I suppose she was trying to make up for all those lost years.”
    “Where was the body found?” Vida asked, surveying the room as if she could make a corpse materialize before her eyes.
    “There,” Henrietta said, pointing to the floor in front of the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen. “I peeked in when the door was open and saw the outline. It must have been chalk, because it's gone now.” She turned to look at the big-screen TV. “You'd think Kendra would get that out of here before somebody steals it.”
    “Is there a problem with burglars?” I asked.
    “Oh—no, not really,” Henrietta said, obviouslyembarrassed lest I be frightened off. “It's like anyplace else, especially when there's a vacancy. You know, Kendra mentions the big TV to her friends and one of them is into drugs and the next thing you know, they break in and steal what's not nailed down. Generally, I mean. We haven't had much of a problem. Not at all.”
    “What exactly is the rent?” Vida asked.
    Henrietta looked relieved by the change of subject. “Six seventy-five, plus the usual damage deposit, first and last month's rent. You know the drill, I imagine.”
    “Oh yes,” Vida said breezily. “But we don't want Emma feeling rushed.”
    “Of course not,” Henrietta agreed, letting us out and locking the door. “Maybe you could come by Wednesday, after Kendra's finished.”
    “What a good idea,” Vida enthused. “You've been very helpful.”
    “Could I get your number?” Henrietta asked. “So I can tell Mr. Chan.”
    Vida started to say something, but I interrupted, offering my cell-phone number. Henrietta thanked us, complained about the unkempt landscaping, thought better of it, and allowed that the landlord probably had someone coming in as soon as the weather turned nice.
    “I gave her the cell number in case she thinks of something about Carol that we ought to know,” I explained after we got into the car. “What were you going to do?”
    “Tell the truth,” Vida said, looking affronted. “That we were down from Alpine. That you're moving here to start a new job.”
    “Vida,” I said, amazed, “that's not the truth.”
    “Part of it is,” Vida retorted. “Though your answer may have been better. Less complicated.”
    “It'd be better if we'd been up-front with all these people,” I grumbled. “Now we have to pretend, not to mention lie through our teeth. I don't like it.”
    “They wouldn't speak so freely if we didn't,” Vida