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Chapter Thirty-four

On Monday morning, Janelle walked into Thorne’s Bra and Girdle Company. She passed Clara, the matronly cashier with the white hair, who was stacking bra boxes on a shelf.

         “Good morning, Clara.” Janelle pressed the up button on the elevator.

         “Oh, Janelle! I read about the kidnapping in the paper. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Her eyes looked like two blue buttons in her pale wrinkled face.

         “Thank you.” Janelle smiled and turned to the elevator. She had answered way too many questions at church yesterday.

         Clara inched up beside to her. “Those men were gamblers. You could have been hurt!”

         “The Lord took care of me. Thanks for being concerned, though.” That had become her stock answer at church.

         “Well, it just makes me nervous.” Clara glanced around as if she expected someone to jump out from behind one of the mannequins. “First, Mr. Thorne is murdered in his office, and then you’re kidnapped.” She wrung her hands together. “You never know who you can trust nowadays.”

         “Don’t worry. The worst is over, and I’m sure everything will get back to normal.”

         “But the sheriff can’t find the murderer. He could be lurking around the premises, ready to strike again, and we’d never know it.”

         Maybe Clara had information that would shed light on the case. “Do you remember anything unusual about that evening when Jed Thorne was murdered?”

         The thin white eyebrows shot up. “No, nothing unusual at all. Sheriff Horton asked me so many questions, but I couldn’t tell him much. I had the normal Friday night customers.”

         “All women, I suppose?”

         Clara smiled at that. “Yes, mostly women shop here. Although every once in a while a man will buy something for his wife, usually before Valentine’s Day.” She leaned closer. “And then there are the boys that come in with their girlfriends.” She clucked her tongue. “It’s just shameful. That’s what it is—shameful.”

         Janelle nodded, trying to keep a serious expression. “So you didn’t notice anyone who acted suspicious that evening?”

         The older woman shook her head. “I remember when Helga left the building around six o’clock, and also Mr. Thorne. Elliot, that is. Then, about eight o’clock, Howard Chapman left.” She frowned. “He looked angry and didn’t even notice when I bid him goodnight. That’s not like Howard at all.”

“What about your customers?”

“Since we close at nine, only a few people came in after that. Mrs. Murdock was here and one of the Howland twins, with her boyfriend.” Clara stopped to purse her lips. “Then there were three woman I don’t know, Ida Thorne—”

         “Ida was here?”
         “Oh, yes. Ida comes in quite often. She seldom buys anything, but she stays for a while and looks around.” Clara lowered her voice. “I think the poor thing is losing her mind.”

         The elevator door opened. “Thanks for the information, Clara.” Janelle stepped inside.

Poor Aunt Ida. She probably had nothing better to do on a Friday night.

* * *

Until Monday… May the Lord bless your weekend!