Chapter Twenty-Eight

A few quick swipes with a soapy sponge in certain cracks and crevices, an extremely warm rinse, and Fay Cunningham's shower was finished.

I was in too big a hurry to bother styling the hair or cover facial age marks with makeup. I pulled on a comfortable old cotton nightshirt and robe and headed back down to the kitchen.

Mitch was left to entertain himself for a total of fifteen minutes. I'm not sure how entertaining those minutes were for him, but by the way the table looked, he hadn't daydreamed them away either.

"Haven't you been the busy little beaver," was my way of a compliment as I sat down at the table in front of a double-decker sandwich and steaming mug of coffee.

"You might want a think about replacin' things in the frig," Mitch suggested as he sat down in the chair across from me. "You got some really scary lookin' stuff growin' in there."

I bit into tomato, lettuce and cheese, neatly layered between four slices of whole wheat bread.

"How is it?" Mitch asked as he watched me chew, then swallow, my first big bite.

"Not bad, but it'd be a lot tastier with a few slices of bacon."

He commented by way of shaking his head in disapproval before biting into his own sandwich.

I sipped my coffee, while I waited for him to finish thoroughly chewing his food before swallowing. The wait was a strain on the nerves. I survived it though in silence. But the second he swallowed, I fired away with my question. "Are you gonna tell me or not?"

When he put his mug of coffee to his lips instead of answering me right away, I wanted to kick him one under the table. But something, or more specifically, that inner voice told me that wouldn't be a smart move.

"Something's turned up on this Angel Adams," he finally mentioned.

And here I was, all puffed up, expecting big news. What a let-down.

"I already know about her being Joe's daughter," I said, and picked up my sandwich to take my disappointment out on it.

"She's Joe's daughter?"

My teeth were a hair from chomping into my sandwich when his question came. The sandwich was dropped back down on paper plate.

"That's not what you were going to tell me?"

"Angel Adams isn't Angel Adams. Her legal name is Angel Traditor. Adams was her mother's maiden name."

Mitch did take another bite of his sandwich, while I kicked a few things around in my head.

"Traditor must have been the step dad's name. That has to be it. Angel doesn't like him, or the name, and decided to take her mom's maiden one. No crime in that."

Mitch chewed and swallowed this second bite a lot faster and had a response to my moment of thinking out loud.

"Don't know about a step dad, but there was a crime."

He took another bite of food, while I puffed up again with anticipation.

This time, I didn't have the patience to wait until he finished emptying his mouth.

"What crime?"

"Don't know. Happened when she was a juvenile. Records are sealed."

"But you're saying Angel committed a crime?"

"Yep. That's how I found out her name isn't Adams. Had the boys put her fingerprint through that there fancy new computer system of theirs."

"How did you get Angel's fingerprint?"

Mitch was back to sipping his coffee. There was also this sly grin lighting up his face and eyes.

"When I stopped by yesterday mornin' to break the news about Ethel to Joe, I got me a strange feelin' about the young woman who answered the door."

"My first impression of her wasn't a good one, either. But tonight I saw a side of her I really admired. Sounds like she had a tough childhood, Mitch."

"Yeah, and one that got her a criminal record in Portsmouth, Ohio."

"So just how did you get the fingerprint?" I asked while my mind was already trying to cough up the reason Portsmouth, Ohio sounded so familiar.

"It was quite by accident. I was pullin' my car keys out of my pocket to leave, when the little note pad I just brought dropped out. Angel picked it up for me."

"See. She can be very nice."

"Maybe. But I'd feel a lot better if I knew how she broke the law."

"Betsy."

"Betsy what?"

"She was one of the best crime reporters the paper's ever had. Last year she got married and followed her new husband to Ohio. Portsmouth, Ohio."

"I think it'd be a really good idea to give Betsy a call. But just in case this Betsy doesn't come through, the state boys might."

"If the records are sealed-"

"No, not that. They sent Ethel's clothes away to be analyzed. Angel's fingerprint is on it's way there now."

"You can't lift fingerprints from clothes, can you?"

"You'd be surprised what all this new technology is capable of doing."

"So you really think Angel might have had something to do with Ethel's murder?"

"I'm not rulin' her out."

"But why would she do it?"

"Didn't have that figured out till you said she was Joe's daughter." I'm sure Mitch saw in my expression his answer hadn't satisfied me. Or better still, had only piled on more confusion.

"She kills Ethel because she wants Joe all to herself."

Too bad Mitch hadn't witnessed the two of them together. Angel took a backseat to no one in Joe's eyes. Fay Cunningham included.