K Is for Killer

she might be able to help me out, so I went over there. Her car was there, but her lights were out, and she didn't answer my knock. I figured she was out somewhere. I went back first thing in the morning, hoping I could catch her before she left."
    "What time was this?"
    "Maybe nine, nine-thirty. I was supposed to take the money to the travel agent by noon or I'd lose my deposit. I'd already given them a thousand dollars, and I had to have the balance or I'd forfeit everything I'd paid."
    "That was for the cruise you took last fall?"
    "Uhn-hun."
    "What made you think Lorna had money?"
    "Lorna always had money. Everybody knew what she did. Sometimes she was generous and sometimes not. It depended on her mood. Besides, she told me she'd help. She just about promised."
    I started to quiz her on the subject but decided it would be better to let that pass for now. "Go on."
    "Well, I knocked on the door, but she never answered. I saw her car was still there, and I thought maybe she was in the shower or something, so I opened the door and peeked in. She was on the floor. I just stood there and stared. I was so shocked I couldn't even think."
    "Was the door locked or unlocked the night before?"
    "I don't know. I didn't try. I didn't even think of it. Anyway, I touched her arm and she was really cold. I knew she was dead. I could tell just by looking. Her eyes were wide open, and she was staring. It was really gross."
    "What next?"
    "I just felt awful. It was horrible. I sat down and started crying." She blinked, staring through the windshield, which was a little dusty for my taste. I figured she was trying to conjure up a quick tear to impress me with the sincerity of her anguish.
    "You didn't call the police?" I asked.
    "Well, no."
    "Why not? I'm just curious about your frame of mind."
    "I don't know," she said grudgingly. "I was afraid they'd think I did it."
    "Why would they think that?"
    "I couldn't even prove where I was earlier because I was at home by myself. Mom was there, but she was sleeping, and Trinny still had a job back then. I mean, what if I was arrested? Mom and Daddy would have died."
    "I understand. You wanted to protect them," I said blandly.
    "I tried to think what to do. I was really screwed, you know? I'd just been praying for the money, and now it was too late. And poor Lorna. I felt so sorry for her. I kept thinking about all the things she wouldn't get to do, like get married, or have a baby. She'd never get to travel to Europe –"
    "So you did what?" I said, cutting in on her recital. Her voice was getting quavery.
    She took out a ratty tissue and dabbed at her nose. "Well. I knew where she kept her bank books, so I borrowed her driver's license and this passbook. I was so confused and upset, I didn't know what to do."
    "I can imagine. Then what?"
    "I got in my car and drove down to the valley and took some money out her savings."
    "How much?"
    "I don't remember. Quite a bit, I guess."
    "You closed the account, didn't you?"
    "What else was I supposed to do?" she said. "I figured once they found out she was dead, they'd freeze all her accounts like they did with my gramma. And then what good would it do? She promised she'd help. I mean, it wasn't like she'd turned me down or anything like that. She wanted me to have it."
    "What about her signature? How'd you manage that?"
    "We write alike anyway because I taught her myself before she went to kindergarten. She'd always imitated my writing, so it wasn't that hard to imitate hers."
    "Didn't they ask for identification?"
    "Sure, but we look enough alike. My face is fuller, but that's about the only difference. You know, hair color, but everybody changes that. Later, when the news hit the paper, nobody seemed to put it together. I don't even think her picture ran in the paper down there."
    "What about the hank? Wasn't there a closing statement sent out?"
    "Sure, but all the mail comes to me at home. Everything from them I pulled out and threw away quick."
    "Well, almost everything," I said. "Then what?"
    "That's all."
    "What about the earrings?"
    "Oh, yeah. I probably shouldn't have done that." She made a face meant to signify regret and other profound emotional responses. "I've been thinking I should put the rest of it back."
    "Back where?"
    "We still have some of her clothes and stuff. I thought I could stick the jewelry in an old purse, like that was where she kept it. In the pocket of her winter coat or something, and then, you know, discover it and