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When they called her, Catherine had mentioned she needed to come into the trading post anyway to see if the gift shop would carry some of the small rugs she created.
She was supposed to arrive at any minute.
Simmy was even letting them use her little office for privacy. A few other travelers had come into the trading post since the road had opened. That meant she had food to prepare and rooms to clean. They’d also taken a sheet and pinned it to the wall to conceal the murder board. That was for their eyes only.
As they waited, Lockjaw called and informed Andi that a tow truck was coming. She’d need to be there when it arrived since the truck was her responsibility.
She understood—even though she didn’t like it. She still had several hours until she needed to be there.
Finally, Catherine walked in. The woman was in her mid-fifties with curly brown hair cut short around her face. Her skin appeared weathered, and she’d dressed for the outdoors in wool pants, boots, and a thick coat.
Simmy fixed them some tea, and then part of the group settled into the small office as Simmy went back to work.
Andi felt an excitement like she hadn’t felt in a long time race through her blood as she glanced at Catherine.
Maybe Catherine could offer them some answers.
Maybe they’d finally make some progress.
chapterfifty-two
“I just couldn’t believeit when I walked in and saw Henrietta . . .” Catherine’s voice trembled with emotion as she balled a tissue in her hands.
“Why did you stop by the house that day?” Andi waited, curious to hear this woman’s perspective on what had happened.
She leaned back in her stiff wooden chair and waited. Duke sat beside her, also listening with rapt attention.
“Henrietta and I liked to spend a lot of our afternoons together.” Catherine rubbed her lips together, appearing apprehensive about the conversation. “A lot of times we prepped meals together while the kids played. We became very close since we were some of the first ones living in the village. We’d planned to do some canning. The kids had picked some cloudberries, and we wanted to make preserves.”
“Tell me about Henrietta and her family.” Andi desperately wanted more insight into the Blancos. Were they as perfect as they presented themselves to be? What kind of secrets did they hide?
Didn’t every family have secrets? Even Andi’s salt-of-the-earth parents had kept her in the dark about some debt they’d been in.
Catherine let out a sigh. “They seemed like the ideal family to me. Everyone was loving and patient. They were kind to each other. Henry and Henrietta were very adamant that they wanted to teach their kids life skills. Of course, they already knew a lot just from living on a homestead. They could work the land. Cook and clean. Make a shelter. Find berries when they were in season.”
“Sounds smart, especially if they planned on living out here in these parts,” Duke said.
Catherine relaxed just a little, seeming more at ease as the conversation went on. “I remember one time the kids wanted to make some extra cash, so they decided to bake some homemade goods and make some lemonade. They sold them to truckers as they passed.”
Andi raised her eyebrows. “Really? The house where they lived doesn’t exactly seem like the ideal location for setting up a lemonade stand.”
“That’s what I said too.” She let out a little laugh. “But their first day they made almost three hundred dollars. After that, they were hooked for life. Whenever they knew it was going to be a high-traffic day, they set up their little stand and sold their goods. People loved it. One of the state troopers made it a point to stop by every time he came past.”
Her breath caught. “State troopers?”
Was that a clue they were searching for? What if a state trooper was behind this? It could explain why there had been no progress on finding the killer.
“I don’t know who it was. I just know he was enamored with the lemonade and cookies.”
Andi made a mental note to look into that.
Had Gibson been a state trooper then? Trivago?
Duke shifted. “Sounds like the Blancos were quite the family. Did they have any problems that you know of?”
“No, not really. I mean, just the normal stuff. Sometimes Henry and Henrietta had little arguments, but they were the type of disagreements that every married couple has.”
“What were they about?” Andi knew good and well that things weren’t always as they seemed. Image was important to a lot of people—it seemed especially prevalent in people with religious backgrounds.
