“Did you have a bad time of it today?” Penny asked after a moment.
“It wasn’t exactly pleasant,” Mrs. Weems replied. “Reporters and photographers came from every paper in Riverview. The police too—although I was glad to have them. And the telephone! I counted twelve calls in an hour.”
“You must be dead. You shouldn’t have waited up for me.”
“I wanted to, Penny. About an hour ago I thought I heard your step on the porch, but I was mistaken.”
Penny sat up. “Haven’t you had a caller during the last hour, Mrs. Weems?”
“No, I’ve been alone.”
“But I saw footprints on the porch! And I found this in the mailbox!”
Penny snatched the long envelope from the table. Holding it beneath the bridge lamp, she noticed for the first time that it bore no stamp. Strangely, it was addressed to her.
“Why, where did you get that letter?” cried Mrs. Weems.
“Found it in the mailbox.” Penny’s hand trembled as she ripped open the flap.