by Leslie Meier
“Dad!”
Livvie walked me to the front door. “Are you going like that?”
I looked down at the sweatpants and T-shirt. “Casual visit,” I said.
She followed me onto the porch. “Binder and Flynn said they’d come around ten to take Page’s statement. Can you be here? You know those guys better than Sonny and I do, and you’ve been through this before.”
“Of course,” I said. “Anything you need.”
* * *
Vee answered the door at the Snuggles, dressed as she always was in a skirt, blouse, hose, and heels. Today, appropriate to the season, the skirt was a wool plaid of deep oranges, browns, and yellows, and she wore a cardigan in the same deep orange over her crisp, off-white blouse. Her snow-white hair was in the neat chignon she always wore. I wondered if, after all these years, it grew that way. She was perfectly made up, which made me even more self-conscious about the sweats and T.
“Julia, what a delight. You’ve come to visit.”
“Yes,” I hesitated, “and no. I’m actually here to see the Davies.”
Vee didn’t miss a beat. “They’re in the dining room. Or at least the adults are. I think Talia’s in her room.”
“Perfect. Thanks.” I stepped through the door into the big front hallway and made for the swinging door to the dining room. I’d been in and out of that house so often since I was a child, I felt as comfortable there as I did in my mother’s home or my own.
Talia’s parents sat at the Snugg sisters’ polished mahogany table with their backs to the door. They turned and rose at the sound of my footsteps.
“Howard Davies.” He extended a hand.
“Blair Davies,” she said and then offered her hand as well.
“Julia Snowden.”
“You’re Page’s aunt,” Blair said. “You came to the girls’ rescue last night. We can’t thank you enough.”
My first impression was that Blair Davies was much older than her husband. He wore his brown hair long, with not a hint of gray. He had a youthful body, loose-limbed and lean. Her hair was completely white and fell to her shoulders. Her body was soft and pleasantly round. But as I looked from one face to the other, I saw the same lines around the eyes, the slight softening of skin at the chin. They were probably quite close in age. Late forties or early fifties, I guessed.
“Nice to meet you both. Unfortunately, I was too late for an actual rescue. I’m sorry I had to leave Talia alone with the police. They wouldn’t let me take her.”
“We pulled into the driveway moments after you left with Page and Vanessa. Talia was happy to see us, but of all the things that happened last night, I don’t think spending a little time waiting with Officer Dawes was the traumatizing event,” Howard said.
“How’s Talia doing?” I asked.
“She’s quiet and withdrawn,” Blair answered. “It’s a lot to process.”
Howard Davies blew out air. “Sit, sit,” he said, gesturing toward the dining table. “There’s still coffee in the carafe.”
I helped myself to coffee and cream in one of the Snugg sisters’ china cups with the delicate pink roses painted on it, and sat across the table from the Davies. “Have you spoken to the police this morning?”
“They called to ask us to be available since they plan to come over later to interview Talia,” Howard said. “They have crime-scene techs working at our house and in our yard. That’s all we know.”
“They asked if we knew who Mrs. Zelisko’s next of kin would be,” Blair added. “Unfortunately, we don’t.”
“We inherited her as a tenant,” Howard explained. “She rented the third-floor apartment from the previous owners. We had no immediate use for the space, and it was nice to have a little cash coming in to help with the moving expenses. We welcomed Mrs. Zelisko staying on.” He paused. “It’s not like we interviewed her or selected her. The previous owners vouched for her. They told us she paid the rent on time, kept the place neat, didn’t intrude in their family life. Her apartment didn’t have a separate entrance, so she had to go through our living space to get to hers. It was a little awkward, but as the previous owners told us, she did her best to respect our privacy, and we respected hers.”
“Did you get to know her at all?” I asked.
“A little,” Blair answered. “We have a traditional Sunday meal, usually a roast or a casserole, served earlier than our normal workday dinner time. We invited her a few times. But our conversations tended to the general. Plans for the house, town events. She never talked about her past. We asked a few times. That accent.” Blair paused and looked around the room, as if the source of the accent might be hiding in a corner. “She was polite, but not expansive.”
“Where is the accent from?”
“Slovenia, she said,” Howard answered.
“Talia is at an awkward age,” Blair said. “She wasn’t happy about the move. Thirteen is a terrible age to move a kid. She’s too old for a babysitter, but we were concerned about leaving her at night or for several hours on her own.”
“So we would ask Mrs. Zelisko to keep an eye on her”—Howard picked up the story—“and tell Talia she could go to Mrs. Zelisko if she needed anything when we weren’t home. It seemed to suit them both.”
“Believe us”—Blair Davies looked straight at me, begging for what? understanding? forgiveness?—“we never, ever would have left your niece and her friend at our home for a sleepover without adult supervision. We thought it was three girls who’d be watching movies and eating snacks. We’re so thrilled Talia has made friends.”
“I work at Emerson Laboratory,” Howard said. “We accepted an invitation to a Halloween party at the home of one of my colleagues. We had lots of friends in Massachusetts, but moving here, especially during the season when everyone is so busy, has been challenging. I have work, and now Talia has school, but it’s been hard on Blair. So I jumped at the chance to go to this party. I shouldn’t have.”
“We never imagined . . .” Blair’s voice broke, and she stared into her lap. “We are so sorry. Please tell your sister and brother-in-law how sorry we are.”
Chapter Five
I shivered my way back to my apartment to shower and change into my fall uniform of jeans, a flannel shirt over a T-shirt, and work boots. On the way out the door, I grabbed my quilted vest off a hook by the staircase. The day was gray and chilly, a harbinger of the weather the rest of November would bring, if it wasn’t worse.
As I walked back over the harbor hill, I saw the unmarked state police car belonging to Lieutenant Jerry Binder and his partner, Sergeant Tom Flynn, pull to the curb in front of my mother’s house. I met the detectives on the front walk.
“Julia.” Under his ski-slope nose, Jerry Binder’s mouth turned up in a genuine smile. “You can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”
“Coincidence. I picked up my niece and her friend because Sonny and Livvie were out of town.”
“Uh-huh.” Tom Flynn didn’t seem to find the fact that I kept turning up in their cases nearly so funny.
I led them to Mom’s house and opened the front door. “Livvie has asked me to sit in on Page’s interview, if that’s okay.”
Binder stepped across the threshold. “The more the merrier.”
“Just keep quiet and let us drive,” Flynn added. Completely unnecessarily in my opinion.
“We’ll need to talk to you after,” Binder said. “Since you were there when the body was discovered.”
“I’m not sure what I can add to whatever Officers Dawes and Howland told you, but I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
Livvie was in the kitchen. Mom had gone to work, and Livvie had sent Sonny and Jack home. I wasn’t sure how she’d talked Sonny into not being present for his daughter’s interview, but I was relieved. Things would go much more smoothly without Sonny’s simmering temper and Jack’s kinetic energy.
“Page!” Livvie called up the back stairs to her daughter. “Lieutenant Binder and Sergeant Flynn are he
re.”
Page walked down the stairs, staring carefully at her feet. She was dressed in blue jeans and a nice shirt, and she’d made an attempt to tame her red curls, pulling them back in a ponytail.
“Hello.” Page addressed the policemen.
“Shall we sit here?” Binder gestured to the kitchen table.
“Of course,” Livvie said. “Anybody need anything? Coffee? Water?”
“Coffee would be nice,” Binder said.
Flynn added, “Water, thanks.”
I doubted they were thirsty. They probably wanted the atmosphere to appear more relaxed. Page was plainly miserable.
Livvie distributed the drinks, including a glass of water for Page, who hadn’t requested it. Binder, sitting across from Page, leaned forward and put the elbows of his tweed sports coat on the table. Next to him, Flynn took out his notebook. Livvie sat next to Page. I took the chair at the end of the table.
Binder’s sports coat looked comfy and lived-in, like Binder did. He was in his late forties; sandy hair ringed his bald head. He had two boys a little younger than Page. He was normally the good cop in these interviews, patient and understanding, while Flynn pushed aggressively for the details.
I hoped Flynn wouldn’t push Page too hard. The cops were on the trail of a murderer, but Page was a kid. She’d met both detectives before, but in passing and never in a situation like this. Flynn, with his buzz-cut hair, military bearing, and gym-toned body, could be intimidating even when he didn’t mean to be.
“Page,” Binder said in his nice-dad voice, “we’re going to ask you some questions about last night. It’s very important that you’re honest, even if you think your answer might get you or a friend of yours in trouble. Can you do that?”
Page nodded, face solemn.
“Nothing she says can get her in more trouble than she’s already in.” Livvie saw what Binder was doing.
“Okay,” Binder said. “Let’s begin. What time did you arrive at the Davies’ house?”
Page looked at her mother, who nodded, encouraging her. “Vanessa’s mom, Emmy, picked me up here before her shift started at Crowley’s. It was around five o’clock, I think.” Her voice had a soft, little-girl quality I hadn’t heard in years.
“Sonny and I had left for Portland,” Livvie said. “So Page was already here at Mom’s.”
Binder gave her a curt nod and turned his attention back to Page. “Who did you see at the Davies’ house when you arrived?”
“Talia and her parents.” Page continued in the same, barely audible tone. “And Vanessa, who came with me, of course.”
“Both of Talia’s parents were present when you arrived,” Binder confirmed.
“Yes.”
“Then what happened?”
“Mrs. Davies went over the rules. She said we could watch whatever we wanted on the TV, even if it was scary. She said there was pizza and salad for dinner and soda, which Talia was excited about because normally she’s not allowed. Mrs. Davies said we could go into the family room; she’d take care of the trick-or-treaters.”
“Did you see Mrs. Zelisko at any time when Talia’s parents were still there?” Flynn asked.
“No. I never saw her at all, until . . .” Page’s eyes again darted to her mother. Livvie nodded, her expression serious.
“We’ll get to that.” Binder steered the conversation kindly but firmly. “For now, let’s keep talking about the time before the Davies left.”
“We watched a movie, not a scary one. We could hear the doorbell ring, and Mrs. Davies complimenting all the little kids on their costumes while she gave out the candy. Then she heated up the pizza and called us to the kitchen to eat.” Page drew a deep breath. “That’s when she told us she and Mr. Davies were going out.” Page picked up her water glass and took a long drink. “I was worried because I knew my parents wouldn’t like that. But then Mrs. Davies explained that Mrs. Zelisko was upstairs, so I felt fine about it. A little later, Mr. and Mrs. Davies came into the back room to say goodbye to us. They said Mrs. Zelisko would be keeping her ears open, and we should go to her if we had any problems. And then they left.”
“What time was that?” Binder asked.
“We’d been there maybe two hours?” Page didn’t sound too sure.
“What did you do when they left?” Binder continued.
“At first, we started another movie, but we got bored, so then we started texting with some friends.”
“Are these texts still on your phone?” Flynn asked.
“Yes.”
“We’d like to see it, if that’s okay.”
“My mom has it.”
Livvie retrieved the phone from her oversized pocketbook in the back hall. The rest of us were silent while we waited, though I had a million questions. Livvie entered the password and held out the phone. Flynn reached across the table and took it.
While Flynn examined the phone, Binder went on with the interview. “Who did you text with, Page?”
“Different friends from school. We were asking what they were doing. Some went trick-or-treating; some handed out candy. Then we found out Jenna Warren was having a sleepover at her house with Kennedy and Lucy.”
“I don’t see that text here,” Flynn said.
“It isn’t on my phone. We were all on our own phones, checking in with different people. Talia was texting with Jenna and invited them over.” Page paused, looking again at her mother. “I told her not to. But she said as long as we were quiet, Mrs. Zelisko wouldn’t come downstairs, and no one would ever know.”
Livvie looked at me, an amused squint to her eyes. Only a thirteen-year-old girl could believe six adolescent girls could remain quiet enough not to attract attention.
“And the three girls did come over,” Binder said.
“Yes. Right away. Jenna only lives around the corner from Talia.”
Flynn asked the girls’ full names and wrote them down. I wondered if their parents knew they’d been at the Davies’ or if the girls had snuck out and the parents were in for an unpleasant surprise.
“Then what happened?” Binder leaned farther forward and lowered his voice. We were getting to the hard part.
“Jenna did a group text to the whole world saying there was a party at Talia’s and her parents weren’t home.” Page’s voice quivered. “And then people started coming from everywhere, bringing beer. Big kids. High school kids. Jenna let the first group in, and after that we couldn’t keep them out. They kept letting each other in.”
“Did you know these kids?” Flynn asked.
“Some I know, like from swim team.” Page had been on the Y swim team since she could dog-paddle. High school kids served as assistant coaches and lifeguards. “Some I recognized from school.” Busman’s Harbor had a combined middle and high school in the same building. The kids would pass each other in the halls. “Some were in costumes with creepy masks or makeup. Some I’m sure I’ve never seen before.”
“How many kids would you say were there at the peak of the party?” Binder asked.
“Maybe a hundred?”
I doubted that was the actual number, but however many it was, it had seemed overwhelming to Page.
Binder didn’t have to prompt her to continue.
“The party went on and on. Kids started wrecking the house. The music was really loud. There was a fight in the backyard. Someone threw up in the downstairs bathroom and didn’t clean it up. People were in the bedrooms.” Page shuddered. “Talia was crying. She knew she was in so much trouble. We didn’t understand why Mrs. Zelisko didn’t come downstairs and throw those kids out. Talia and I went up to get her.”
At this point, both Binder and Flynn got very interested. They leaned in toward Page, whose eyes opened wide. She pushed her chair back a little.
“Did you see Mrs. Zelisko?” Flynn asked.
“There was no one in her apartment,” Page said. “It was empty. We looked in every room that we could get in. Talia said maybe she forgot she was suppose
d to watch us and went out.”
“Were there rooms up there you couldn’t get into?” Binder asked.
“One door was closed. I thought it might be the bathroom. Talia wasn’t sure. Mrs. Zelisko already lived there when Talia’s family moved in, so Talia had never been in the apartment. We knocked and knocked. I tried the knob.” Page’s skin, already flushed behind her freckles, reddened more. “Normally I would never. But we were really scared. I couldn’t open it.”
“The door was locked from the inside?” Flynn tried to keep his normal bark in check.
“I don’t know. The knob turned, but the door was stuck.”
“Then what did you do?” Binder prompted.
“We went back downstairs. We couldn’t find Vanessa. We shouted for her, but the house was so noisy. I got really nervous, so I called Aunt Julia.” Page looked at me. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” I said. “That’s what I’m here for.” Not only had Livvie and Sonny specifically asked me to provide backup in this instance, I thought it was generally the job description of an aunt to take those kinds of calls. I never wanted Page to hesitate to call me.
“What time did you call your Aunt Julia?” Binder asked.
“I don’t know.” Page sounded weepy, like not knowing the time was a personal failing.
Flynn scrolled through her phone. “Does nine forty-three sound right?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Go on,” Binder said to Page.
“The house was so crowded. There were people everywhere. There was a big group in the front hall, where Talia and I ended up when we came down the stairs from the apartment. Finally, I spotted Vanessa through the archway to the kitchen. I called out to her. A girl screamed and pointed up. And then everyone was screaming and pointing. Mrs. Zelisko flew down from the ceiling! She was all dressed in white like a bride! Her face was white. She was a ghost! That’s where she was when we were in her apartment. She was dead.” Page burst into noisy tears. Livvie put an arm around her. The poor kid. The fanciful flying ghost story aside, whatever had happened had clearly been traumatizing. And something had happened. Mrs. Zelisko was dead.
