Love for Sale

what she made for her lunches to take to school.“
    “Oh, a teacher. Is she the one you’re substituting for?“ Howard asked Lily.
    “Yes, and she appears not to have gone to the home address she gave the principal.“ Lily said. “Mrs. Tarkington wrote to her when she first left, and the letter came back marked ‘not known at this address’ or some similar wording. So she found the telephone number for the address and called it. The people were elderly, knew everybody in the small town’s business, and had never heard of her. Mrs. Tarkington thinks perhaps she put down the wrong town name.“
    “How could someone make that kind of mistake?“ Howard countered.
    “Maybe she’d lived in a lot of little towns and just mixed them up.”
    Howard considered this might be possible but was unlikely.
    “It looks to me as if this place isn’t being used. Do you agree?“
    “I do,“ Miss Jurgen said. “She must have had other clothes and such that she took with her.“
    “Was it always so empty looking?“ he asked. “No pictures on the wall? No books?”
    Miss Jurgen shrugged. “I don’t know. I never came in here after she moved in. I provided the basic furniture, the icebox, and stove. I never thought of asking what she’d done with her half and never invited her into mine. Let’s go back to my side. I made some cookies this morning and can do some coffee or tea if you can stay. We can talk this over.”

Chapter 22

    The three of them talked only about how good the cookies were. Miss Jurgen insisted on sending a paper bag of them home with Chief Walker. He’d obviously liked them.
    “The woman who cooks at the boardinghouse where I live and work prefers gummy, greasy undercooked tarts. Lily, do you need a lift home?“
    “Are you going that way?“ Lily asked.
    “I could,“ he said.
    As he opened the door of the police car for Lily, Amelia Jurgen watched out the front window, wondering if they were sweet on each other. It would be easy to like Chief Walker very much. She’d never had dealings with him but often saw him around Voorburg and had always thought he was handsome with that dark hair and slightly Indian-looking eyes.
    When Howard dropped Lily off, he went back to his office and sat at his desk with his feet up on it and his chair balanced on the back two legs. He did his best thinking in this precarious position.
    Miss Amelia Jurgen had interested him. She, like Mrs. Towerton, appeared to have carved out a successful, if not very exciting in his view, way to make a living by herself. Both had been fortunate enough to inherit a house of their own as well. As had Lily, come to think of it.
    He occasionally thought how pleasant it would be to have a nice house of his own. In his imagination, there was usually a wife involved in the fantasy. No one in particular. There were lots of good choices. But he himself wasn’t a good choice. His income probably barely exceeded by much either Mrs. Towerton’s or Miss Jurgen’s. Although the town had voted him a meager raise six months ago, which was encouraging. If the financial situation improved with Roosevelt in the White House, he might be blessed with another raise someday.
    Switching mental gears, he thought he should have asked more about this mysterious Miss Langston. How and why did she and Miss Jurgen share a home without knowing or caring anything about each other? At least it had sounded like that, from Miss Jurgen’s view. Two young women who lived in the same house and worked together should have had opportunities to learn a little bit about each other.
    Was it Miss Jurgen’s choice to keep a distance from her renter or Miss Langston’s, or both of them? He suspected it was Miss Langston. Miss Jurgen hadn’t seemed too shy or standoffish. And she and Lily seemed to be friends.
    He ate one of Miss Jurgen’s delicious chocolate cookies while he brooded aimlessly on the reason she’d called him. It was distinctly odd that Miss Langston had given the principal of the school a clearly wrong address. Thinking like a cop, who normally saw things in a logical way, he found that hard to figure out. How long had Miss Langston lived here in Voorburg? He should have asked. She could have deliberately given the school a fake address, but why would she?
    He tipped his chair back upright and looked at his watch. It must be about time for school to let out. Since he wasn’t getting anywhere with his investigation into Brother Goodheart’s