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one of the nicest things I’d heard about her."

“She certainly was ill-mannered,” Hannah said and they turned to walk back to the house.

"When I had to question her before the trial, she wasn’t rude, but she was not helpful either.  She just stuck to her story that her husband had gone to bed with her, and when she was awakened by the sheriff pounding on her door, he was no longer there.”

“The sheriff was just leaving as I arrived. He walked right past me, and she never introduced us.  I only knew who he was by his badge.”

“He never introduced himself?”

“No, all I got was a slight tip of his hat, but he did call me Mrs. Hart.  How did he know my name?”

Cameron shrugged.  “It’s a small town."  He lifted her hand to mouth and kissed it.  “Shall I call him out for it or sue him?”

Hannah was pleasantly shocked.  She smiled, gently reclaimed her hand, and laughed. “Neither, but I hope I’ll have better luck tomorrow with Mrs. Wilson.  Have you heard anything about her?”

Cameron leaned against the porch railing.  “I met Chloe Wilson on a few occasions and found her to be cooperative while she was still in shock.  It was easy to believe her story until she said she had never woken up, had never met Monroe, and had no idea why he was lying dead in her bedroom.”

“You don’t believe her?” Hannah asked.

Cameron shook his head.  “I don’t know.  I did when I was talking to her, but later, I thought she might just be a good actress or defending her husband.  I did, however, believe Wilson when I was with him.  My doubts formed when I wasn’t with him.  He had such a convincing way of telling his story.”

“How do you mean?”

“When someone is accused of something they didn’t do, their first reaction is anger, and he was angry as a newly-castrated bull.  I thought it was anger because he'd found a half-dressed man in his wife’s bedroom, but later when I talked to him, he’d calmed down, but he still swore that he had nothing to do with the murder.”

“Wait,” Hannah said,  “Monroe was half-dressed?”

Cameron nodded.

“How befuddling.”

Mrs. Wilson answered Hannah’s knock with curiosity but also a smile.  “Hello.  How can I help you?”

“I’m Hannah Hart, and I’ve brought you some cookies.  They’ll go perfectly with a pot of tea.”

“Oh, your husband is the one who helped to free my Charles.  I’m Chloe—do come in.”

Chloe Wilson was a petite woman with hair as black as a raven.  She was pretty, but would have been more so without so much rouge on her cheeks.  Chloe led Hannah through the sitting room to a kitchen table, and Hannah put the plate of cookies on the table while Chloe brought out the teacups and saucers, and poured hot water from a kettle on the stove into a teapot.

“We’ll let it steep for a few minutes,” she said.

“I’m sorry about the ordeal your poor husband had to go through.  You must have been a nervous wreck,” Hannah said.

“No, I was in shock.  I woke up to find a half-clothed dead man on my bedroom floor.”

Hannah’s hands flew to her cheeks.  “I can’t even imagine how that would feel.”

“Charles knew right away that I had nothing to do with the man, bless his heart.”  Chloe jumped up and poured their tea.  “Take care, it’s hot.”

Hannah was intrigued. She had to ask, “How did he know?”

“First of all, he had to wake me up.  Who would ax a man and then fall asleep?  Also, I was wearing my favorite flannel nightgown, and when Charles and I... um get together, I always wear either my black or pink silk gown. He knew that if I’d had something planned with the dead man, I wouldn't have worn flannel. Besides, he knows I love him.”

Hannah sat speechless, gently blowing on her hot tea.

Chloe continued, “I sat up and screamed.  In my sleepy mind, I was confused and said, ‘What did you do to that man?’  Once I woke up completely, I saw that Charles had no blood on him, and he still had his satchel in his hand and his hat on.”

“Well, I won’t use his exact words, but he said, ‘What happened in here?’  He was as shocked as I was.”

“Had you never met Mr. Morgan before?”

“Never.  I’ve heard that his wife had also worked at Lilah’s, but by the time I'd started working there, she had already left to get married. In fact, Lilah gave me her room.”

“How did that man get in your room, do you suppose?” Hannah asked.

“I left the door unlatched.  I knew Charles would be home soon.  He’s a traveling salesman and is often out of town.”  Chloe took a sip of her tea and took one of the cookies.

Hannah was glad that Chloe was not only friendly but extremely talkative.

“These are excellent cookies—did you make them?”

“No,” Hannah confessed.  “Our housekeeper made them.

“All right.” Hannah began to figure the scene in her head. “So, the man came into your house and just died on your bedroom floor?”

“Extremely unlikely. To be honest,” Chloe said, taking another cookie, “the sheriff did a lousy job.  Your husband would make a better sheriff.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Charles and I noticed right away that there was very little blood on the floor under the man.  The sheriff said there wouldn’t be much until the ax was removed from his head.”

“Is there a doctor in town to confirm that?”

“No,” Chloe answered.  "We had one, but he left due to a lack of business.  So many people are leaving Hunter’s Grove.  The town council is trying to find a new one for us.  At least, that’s what the undertaker said.”

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