to a young woman she didn't even know very well? And speculation would run rampant; I couldn't even imagine the things people would make up to explain Jane's inexplicable legacy. People were going to talk anyway, but any dispute about the will would put a nasty twist on that speculation.
Looking at Parnell Engle and his silent wife, with their dowdy clothes and grievances, I suddenly wondered if I'd gotten the money to pay me for the inconvenience of the skull. What Jane had told Bubba Sewell might have been just a smoke screen. She may have read my character thoroughly, almost supernaturally thoroughly, and known I would keep her secret.
"Good-bye," I said to them gently, and closed my front door slowly, so they couldn't say I'd slammed it on them. I locked it carefully, and marched to my telephone. I looked up Bubba Sewell's number and dialed. He was in and available, to my surprise.
"How's things going, Miss Teagarden?" he drawled.
"Kind of bumpy, Mr. Sewell."
"Sorry to hear that. How can I be of assistance?"
"Did Jane leave me a letter?"
"What?"
"A letter, Mr. Sewell. Did she leave me a letter, something I'm supposed to get after I've had the house a month, or something?" "No, Miss Teagarden."
"Not a cassette? No tape of any kind?"
"No, ma'am."
"Did you see anything like that in the safe deposit box?" "No, no, can't say as I did. Actually, I just rented that box after Jane became so ill, to put her good jewelry in."
"And she didn't tell you what was in the house?" I asked carefully. "Miss Teagarden, I have no idea what's in Miss Engle's house," he said definitely. Very definitely.
I stopped, baffled. Bubba Sewell didn't want to know. If I told him, he might have to do something about it, and I hadn't yet decided what should be done. "Thanks," I said hopelessly. "Oh, by the way..." And I told him about Parnell and Leah's visit.
"He said for sure they weren't going to contest?" "He said they knew that Jane was in her right mind when she made her will, that they just wanted to know why she left everything the way she did." "But he didn't talk about going to court or getting his own lawyer?"
"No."
"Let's just hope he meant it when he said he knew Jane was in her right mind when she made her will."
On that happy note we told each other good-bye. I returned to my chair and tried to pick up the thread of my reasoning. Soon I realized I'd gone as far as I could go.
It seemed to me that if I could find out who the skull had belonged to, I'd have a clearer course to follow. I could start by finding out how long the skull had been in the window seat. If Jane had kept the bill from the carpet layers, that would give me a definite date, because the skull had for sure been in the window seat when the carpet was installed over it. And it hadn't been disturbed since. That meant I had to go back to Jane's house.
I sighed deeply.
I might as well have some lunch, collect some boxes, and go to work at the house this afternoon as I'd planned originally.
This time yesterday I'd been a woman with a happy future; now I was a woman with a secret, and it was such a strange, macabre secret that I felt I had guilty knowledge written on my forehead.
The unloading across the street was still going on. I saw a large carton labeled with a picture of a baby crib being carried in, and almost wept. But I had other things to do today than beat myself over the head with losing Arthur. That grief had a stale, preoccupied feel to it.
The disorder in Jane's bedroom had to be cleared away before I could think about finding her papers. I carried in my boxes, found the coffeepot, and started the coffee (which I'd brought back, since I had carried it away in the morning) to perking. The house was so cool and so quiet that it almost made me drowsy. I turned on Jane's bedside radio; yuck, it was on the easy listening station. I found the public radio station after a second's search, and began to pack clothes to Beethoven. I searched each garment as I packed, just on the off chance I would find something that would explain the hidden skull. I just could not believe Jane would leave me