Chapter Twenty-Nine

The first thing they saw when they entered Ben’s apartment was a huge pile of cardboard boxes in the center of the room, waiting to be assembled. A roll of packing tape sat on top of the boxes, and a black felt-tipped marker was next to it. One box was already closed and labeled. It had the word Mementos written on all four sides, and Hannah made a mental note not to leave Ben’s apartment without opening it and taking a look.

“This is your show, Hannah,” Delores said. “What do you want us to do?”

“You take the kitchen,” Hannah said to Michelle. “Call me if you find anything that has to do with Seattle, jazz clubs, Buddy Neiman, or Doctor Bev.”

“Or anything else that piques her curiosity?” Delores asked.

“Exactly right. You get the bedroom, Mother. Just call out if you need us for anything. I’ll take the bathroom and the living room, in that order. When we’re through, we’ll all meet in the hallway by the back entrance.”

“Got it,” Michelle said, heading off to the kitchen.

“Seattle, jazz clubs, Buddy, or Doctor Bev,” Delores repeated, walking toward the bedroom.

Hannah didn’t really expect to find anything in the bathroom, and she wasn’t wrong. The only item of interest was an expensive-looking silver watch that was nestled around the bottom of a replica of the Seattle Space Needle. Hannah picked it up and saw that it was engraved with a name, Dr. Gene Burroughs, on the back.

The living room was next, and it was devoid of personal items. If there had been any, they were probably already sequestered in the box marked Mementos. The bookshelves contained nothing but books, the coffee table had a plant that looked in dire need of water, and since there was a half-empty bottle of water nearby, Hannah watered it. The entertainment center housed nothing but DVDs, the wicker chest by the window was empty, and the closet by the front door accommodated only a coat, a windbreaker, and a parka.

“Hannah!” Delores rushed in with a large binder in her hands. “It’s a scrapbook. Is this the sort of thing you want to see?”

“It’s perfect,” Hannah said, reaching out to give her mother a little hug. “This could be important, Mother.”

Michelle came in just then. “Nothing in the kitchen. There aren’t even any frying pans. I think it’s safe to say that Ben didn’t cook.” She noticed the scrapbook in Hannah’s hands and hurried over. “What’s that?”

“A scrapbook.”

“There are photos, clippings, and some other things,” Delores reported. “I just flipped through it, and then I brought it right out here to Hannah.”

“Let’s take a look,” Hannah said, taking a seat on the couch and waiting until her mother and sister had taken places on either side of her. She flipped the book open to the first page, and they saw a photo of two boys, one a toddler and the other about ten years older.”

“Ben and Gene,” Delores read the caption. “They were cute kids. Gene must be his brother.”

“I think Gene was his stepbrother,” Hannah told her. “At least they had different last names. I found a silver watch in the bathroom, and it was engraved, Dr. Gene Burroughs.”

“I wonder if he’s a medical doctor,” Delores said. “It could explain why Ben went into medicine. They might be planning to open a practice together. Sometimes families do things like that.”

Hannah shook her head. “Not this time,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Dr. Gene Burroughs is dead. Marlene said Ben told her his brother was dead.”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Michelle said.

Hannah flipped through the pages. There were family photos, school portraits, snapshots of Christmas and other holidays. They were followed by graduation pictures and announcements. There was Dr. Gene Burroughs standing with a class of graduates, and an announcement of his graduation from medical school. Then there was the same type of photo of Ben, and the announcement of his medical school graduation.

“Here’s the last page,” Hannah said, flipping it over and staring at a clipping from the Seattle Times. The headline read, Local Doctor Murdered In Alley Behind Jazz Club, and there was a picture of Dr. Gene Burroughs.

“What is it?” Delores asked as Hannah gasped.

“It’s an article about Ben’s brother Gene. He’s dead. He was stabbed in the chest with a broken beer bottle in the alley behind a Seattle jazz club called Jazzmen.”

“Did they catch the killer?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t say. And there’s nothing else here except ...” Hannah stopped speaking and unfolded a piece of paper that was stuck to the back cover of the album.

“What is it?” Michelle asked when Hannah was silent.

“It’s a photo of the band that was playing the night that Ben’s brother was stabbed. They’re called Ticket To Tulsa.”

Michelle leaned closer to look at the photo. “That’s Buddy!” she said, and her voice was shaking. “His hair’s blond in the photo, but it’s him.”

“You’re right,” Hannah said. “It’s definitely Buddy. I wonder if Ben recognized him.”

“It’s Ben’s photo,” Delores pointed out. “I’m sure he must have noticed the resemblance. Even I noticed it and I only saw Buddy after he was ...” Delores stopped speaking and gave a little gulp. “Girls!”

“What is it, Mother?” Hannah asked.

“Ben must have known Buddy in Seattle. That much is clear. You don’t think that Ben ... that Ben killed Buddy, do you?”

Hannah was speechless for a moment and then she reached a conclusion. “I don’t know,” she said, “but we’d better show this photo album to Mike.”

“And we’d better get out of here,” Michelle added, grabbing the book from Hannah’s hands. “Let’s go, Mother.”

“Come on, Hannah.” Delores motioned to her. “Hurry! It’s too dangerous to stay here. Ben could be the killer!”

Hannah shook her head. “You two go and find Mike. Give him that scrapbook and tell him everything you know. I’ll be along in a minute. I just want to go through that box marked Mementos. There could be something important in there.”

“I think you should come with us now,” Delores argued.

“It’s okay, Mother. Ben’s working until eight tonight, and it’s only eleven in the morning. You know his schedule. You looked it up yourself. Just go on ahead with Michelle and I’ll meet you later.”


The first thing Hannah did after her mother and Michelle left was to get the silver watch and slip it into her purse. If Ben had killed Buddy, it could be important to the murder investigation. Then she went into Ben’s living room and dragged the heavy box to the couch. She had no intention of leaving Ben’s apartment. She was going to stay right here, gathering possible evidence, until her sister and her mother got back with Mike.

A little tingle of apprehension gave Hannah pause. She would have felt more secure if Ben’s apartment had been several miles from his workplace, but she convinced herself that she was perfectly safe. Ben was busy seeing patients and he had no idea that she was searching his apartment.

Hannah used the scissors on the coffee table to slit the tape on the box. So far everything they’d found was circumstantial. She didn’t expect to find a handwritten confession in the box, or the pair of gloves that Ben had worn when he stabbed Buddy Neiman in the treatment room, but a box labeled Mementos might contain something from Ben’s life in Seattle that would be useful.

Once she’d opened the box, Hannah removed the items one by one. She found photos of Ben’s parents, smiling at the camera, and one of the family dog romping with Gene. There was another of Ben and Gene in a rowboat on a lake. They were smiling and holding up fish on a stringer.

A stuffed toy cat was near the bottom of the box. One ear was shorter than the other. It had been mended with black thread, and Hannah decided that it had probably been a childhood toy. And then, very near the bottom, she pulled out a framed photo of Gene standing on stage with the man Hannah had known as Buddy Neiman. The photo was inscribed near the bottom right corner in silver ink. It read For my good friend, Gene. And it was signed Chaz Peyton.

That was when she heard it, a key in the lock. It wasn’t Mike. Even if they’d found him right away, he couldn’t have gotten here that fast. And it couldn’t be Michelle or Delores. There was no reason for them to come back. And if it wasn’t any of them, it had to be ...

Ben! No time to put things back in the box and tape it up. She had to get out. Now! He’d spot her if she tried to go out the back way. Ben had what was called a shotgun apartment. If you opened the front door and opened the back door, anyone standing on the steps outside could fire a shotgun straight through the apartment without hitting anything. No time to get out. And that meant she had to hide.

Quick as a bunny, the phrase flew through Hannah’s mind. But didn’t a very frightened bunny freeze? Her feet felt frozen to the floor, but she forced them to move to a spot just to the left of the front door. When Ben opened it, she’d be hidden. He’d spot the open box, walk over to it, and she’d slip out the door while his back was turned, and make a run for it.

The door opened. Hannah caught the knob so that it wouldn’t bounce back and close. Then she counted to five, just time enough for Ben to spot the box and walk over to it.

Cautiously, she peeked out. Yes! Just as she’d expected, he’d walked across the floor to the box. He was standing there staring at the contents, his back to her. It was time to get out. Now!

Hannah stepped out, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid he’d hear it, and slipped out the open doorway. And then she broke into a run for her very life.

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