by Raven Snow
Rowen didn’t get the whole license plate of the car, but she did get a partial. She jotted that down on her pad of paper. It probably wasn’t anything important anyway, she told herself. It was probably just someone who was mad they had been blocked in for so long. Going on an impromptu car chase on a hunch was asking for trouble.
Rowen got out of the car and went to Marve. “Did you see the person in that car?” she asked, pointing down the road.
Marve had his hands shoved in his pockets. He hunched his shoulders briefly in the approximation of a shrug. “Kinda.”
“Well, what did they kinda look like?”
“Short hair. Glasses.”
“Did you recognize her?”
“No, but I don’t come here all that often. I don’t know the regulars here or anything.”
“Thanks.” Rowen headed back toward her husband. He was still standing at the shack with Jeff.
“Hey there, Little Tiffany,” said Jeff with a sad smile. “Sorry to hear about your step-dad.”
“I didn’t know him that long,” said Rowen, like that made it better.
Jeff shrugged. “I’m still sorry.”
“Did you see a woman here with short hair and glasses?” Rowen ignored the glance her husband gave her. She would explain what she was getting at later.
“I see a lot of women around here. I’m sure I’ve seen more than a few that wore glasses.”
“She was just here, drove a white four door.”
Jeff took a drag on his cigarette. “I don’t know. I was inside until just now. People come and go as they please around here.”
“Would you even tell us if you knew who it was?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you let that Marve kid make a run for it. You let him slip out a back window or something didn’t you?”
“Hey, that was his choice.” Jeff took another long drag. The smoke was aromatic when he exhaled, earthy. “I don’t rat people out, as a general rule. I like folks to feel comfortable around here. What they choose to do is their choice.”
“Even if that includes choosing to murder someone?”
“You think Marve is a murderer?”
Rowen didn’t answer that question. She tried another approach. “You know you have to come forward to the police if you have suspicions, right? I get not outing people for drug use or whatever, but murder is a completely different animal. You’ve always struck me as the sort of person who respects all life equally, you know?”
Jeff hesitated, his eyes narrowed, sizing her up like she was trying to trick him into saying something he shouldn’t. “I do,” he said after a moment, that measured gaze of his still on her.
“Then do you have any suspects? Is there anyone you can think of who might have done this?”
Jeff rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He frowned. “None I’m comfortable mentioning to the police.”
“What does that mean?” asked Eric.
“It means, I don’t have enough info. I didn’t see a whole heck of a lot that night.”
“Just tell us then,” said Rowen.
“Fine.” Jeff dropped what was left of his cigarette and stomped it out with his heel. “But if you go to the cops, I’m not going to confirm or deny.”
“Just tell us,” Rowen repeated. She was liking Jeff less and less with each passing moment. She was getting tired of these games. If he had some kind of evidence or any ideas as to who killed Andrea and Rory, he needed to just tell them.
Jeff looked from Rowen to Eric, like he was trying to determine if they actually meant that. “Fine,” he said. “You didn’t hear it from me, but… I saw that guy your mom used to date here last night.”
“Who?” Rowen could think of about a dozen different guys her mother used to date. She didn’t remember most of their names. They were, more or less, just a big blur of faces.
Jeff sucked on his teeth. “I don’t know him that well. I know Tiff introduced us the first time she brought him over here. It was when they first started dating. He was really out of his element back then. He’s come a few times since, but not much. Average build, thick accent, real redneck looking fellow.”
“Roland?” That was the first name that came to Rowen’s mind, even if it was terribly unlikely.
“That’s it!” Jeff pointed at her. “Roland. I hadn’t seen him in a while, but he was definitely here the night Andrea and Rory had to have been killed.”
“Did anyone else see him?” asked Rowen. She didn’t want to believe Jeff. She hoped he had been intoxicated, that he’d just seen someone he thought was Roland.
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask someone else.” Jeff didn’t have much else to add.
“What do you think?” Rowen asked her husband as they headed back to their car one final time.
“I think Roland is a possibility worth checking into.” Eric must have noticed Rowen frown. He gave her a nudge. “I know you like him, but we should at least rule him out. Maybe we’re looking at this from the wrong angle.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe Andrea was the one who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Chapter Nine
Rowen went to the Greensmith household that afternoon. She didn’t want to, but she had about a dozen missed calls that came in once her cell phone was back in range. Most of them were from Lydia. She was leaving rapidly escalating threats. Rowen wasn’t sure they were meant as threats, but she didn’t know how else to take them, “See if any of us show up to comfort Eric when you die.” She hoped Lydia hadn’t really thought that statement out before she spoke it.
“You need to just go,” said Eric.
Rowen resented Eric trying to guilt her about this. Sure, he was a Greensmith… technically. He didn’t have all the facts, though. He didn’t know how it felt to be Rowen right now. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to comfort her mother about a guy she barely knew. She didn’t trust herself not to make it worse.
Even so, Rowen relented and went. The entire Greensmith family appeared to be parked in the driveway and out on the lawn. “Do you want me to come in with you?” asked Eric, like he was hoping she might not.
“Of course I do.” Eric wasn’t getting away from this that easily. If she had to go, so did he.
***
Rowen didn’t announce herself when she entered. She had a key and let herself in as quietly as possible. She wanted to observe the situation before wading into it. That turned out to be a good idea, too. As soon as she cracked the door open, she could hear her mother wailing. How long and loud could one person cry? Rowen continued in, taking a detour to enter the kitchen when she saw some of her cousins standing around.
Willow, Peony, and Margo were all standing there, whispering to one another and holding coffee mugs. They looked up when they noticed Rowen. “Want some coffee?” asked Peony, her voice low.
“No thanks. I’m all right. What are you guys doing in here?”
“What do you think we’re doing?” Margo motioned emphatically in the direction of the wailing. “We don’t know what to do in there.”
“It’s awkward,” said Willow.
“Super awkward,” confirmed Peony.
“How’s she doing?” That felt like it had been a stupid question as soon as she had asked it. Rowen could still hear her mother crying, after all.
“Not great,” said Margo, raising an over-plucked eyebrow. “She’s been asking when you were gonna show up.”
“I was busy,” said Rowen.
“With what?” asked Margo, her tone mildly accusing, like she was aggravated to have been saddled with a job that should have gone to someone else.
“With trying to figure this whole thing out. They haven’t caught the killer yet, you know. Whoever killed Rory is still out there.”
“They killed that Andrea woman too,” said Willow. “I saw it all over the news.”
Margo gave a little huff. “We should be covering that ri
ght now instead of congregating here. We do have a news source of our own to run.”
“Where’s Rose?” asked Rowen.
Margo pointed in the direction of the crying. “Out in the thick of it.”
“You go on.” Margo pushed away from the counter, taking a few steps toward the door like she had decided something. “You go talk to your mom. We’re gonna slip out of here and see if we can’t get some work done. It’s not like we’ve been helpful loitering around in the kitchen anyway.”
Rowen didn’t argue with them, though she did note that it really said something if Margo would rather work than stand around a house. Still, it was with great reluctance that she headed on into the den.
Tiffany looked up when Rowen came in. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she hurried over and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. Rowen hugged her back, doing so a bit awkwardly. She had never been much good at hugs. Hugs with her mother always felt especially awkward. It was like they were… too familial. That was probably an odd thing to say about hugging one’s own mother, but it was the truth.
“I’m really sorry,” said Rowen, once she had managed to take a step away. “I’m trying to solve this thing. We’ll figure out who did it.”
Tiffany nodded, but she didn’t look too interested in the how of all this. “I can’t believe he’s gone. It feels like we were together just yesterday.”
Rowen didn’t point out that it had been just yesterday. “Do you want me to try to get him to talk to you?”
That got Tiffany’s full attention. Her eyes widened. “He’s been talking to you? Where? When?”
“Well, I first ran into him here. He led me back to where he was murdered after that. Ever since then, he’s been distant. I’m really not sure why. Kind of… bummed about being dead, I guess. Sometimes they get like that.”
“Why wouldn’t he come to me?” asked Tiffany, like her feelings had been hurt by this piece of news.
Rowen winced. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. “He didn’t know he was dead when he came to me. Besides, it was Natalie who found him first. If anything, I guess you can say that I went to him.”
“But why wouldn’t he come to me afterward? He must know how distraught I am about all this!”
Rowen didn’t have a good answer for that. She wished she hadn’t said anything. Heck, she wished she hadn’t come here at all. “I, uh, don’t know. I guess you would have to ask him that.”
“And how am I supposed to if he never shows himself to me?!”
Another good question Rowen didn’t have an answer to. At least her mother had stopped crying. Now, she looked ever so slightly angry. “I can try and get Natalie to get in touch with him. I can ask him to come here, if you want.”
“Not if he doesn’t want to.” The way Tiffany said that sounded almost angry, like she was mad at her husband as a wife would be under any other normal circumstances. “I’m not going to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She stood there for several moments in silence. “I’m going for a walk,” she declared suddenly. She walked from the den and toward the back door, taking wide, purposeful steps.
Nadine hurried after her. Lydia, Norm and Rose all remained. Lydia frowned at Rowen from the sofa. “Did you really have to say all that?”
Rowen spread her hands. She could feel her mouth hanging open, at a loss. She had really tried here. She hadn’t wanted to come, but she had. Even making her best effort, she had apparently just made things worse.
“Oh, lay off her,” said Norm, shooting a dirty look right back at his sister. “She didn’t do anything wrong.” He looked to Rowen. “You really didn’t, Sweetie,” he said gently. “Everyone is just on edge.”
“I’m not on edge,” Lydia snapped so fast it kind of proved his point.
“Sure you are. It’s bad enough what happened to Rory, but then you’ve got Ben getting hurt too.” Norm’s eyes darted to Rose. “Sorry.”
Rose shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“Every married Greensmith is suddenly all worried about what might happen to your fellas. You all conveniently forget about your rotten luck until it’s too late.”
Lydia fidgeted. “I did protection spells,” she said. “I’m good with them. Reginald is perfectly safe.”
“If protection spells were all it took, I think we would have a lot more men in the Greensmith family,” Norm said, not backing down.
“It’s our choice too,” Eric interjected. “I don’t know about all the other guys, but I got the warnings. I chose to marry Rowen anyway. I’d make the choice again, even if you asked me as a ghost.”
Rowen looked to her husband. She reached and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. She felt a rush of affection for him which, despite his intentions, made her feel guiltier than ever for marrying him. “Is there any way to… I don’t know. Do more than protection spells alone? Reverse the curse we’re under or something?”
“You don’t think we would have tried that if the option were available to us?” asked Lydia.
Rowen nodded. She supposed that had been a rather stupid question to ask. “Well, whatever, should I try and get Rory here or not?”
“Not unless your mother asks,” said Norm.
“Then I’m heading out. It doesn’t seem like she wants me here anyway, and I have work to do.” Rowen turned.
“I’m coming with you,” blurted Rose.
“Rose!” Lydia sounded surprised.
“What?” Rose was already standing. “There’s not a whole lot I can do here, and we’re really getting behind. I need to head home and check on Ben anyway. He’s been working twice as hard on paperwork. I swear he’s spending more time working now than he ever has.”
Lydia looked torn. She clearly wanted the family to come together in these trying times, but it wasn’t quite working out that way. “Be careful,” she said, after several seconds of frowning silence.
***
Eric, Rose, and Rowen all headed to the door. The rest of their cousins had already gone, fleeing from the kitchen like Willow had planned. That family unity Lydia wanted really wasn’t panning out. “Sorry,” said Rose as soon as they were outdoors, like it was her responsibility to apologize for her mother. “She’s not trying to be mean right now. I think she’s just worried. Plus, you know, she doesn’t like seeing her sister upset.”
“I know.” Rowen didn’t need an explanation. She knew Lydia better than she knew her own mother, knew she loved her. When she got really worried about her family, she liked to keep them close. It came off as lashing out sometimes. With a family as big as theirs there wasn’t a whole lot one could do to keep a tight leash on everyone. “What are you going to do after you check on Ben? Margo and the others are already headed back to the Inquirer. At least, that’s where they said they were going.”
“Did they?” Rose raised her eyebrows. She had every right to be surprised by that bit of news. Margo, Peony, and Willow didn’t willingly go to work often. “I’ll probably work from home,” she said, finally. “There is a ton to do.” She stopped then, not continuing to her car just yet. Her gaze had gone unfocused like she was deep in thought. “Do you think you could help me out?”
“With what?” asked Rowen. She didn’t want to commit to anything she wasn’t sure she could help with.
“I know you can’t legally help with the Andrea story, and I know the Rory stuff is iffy because it’s probably connected and, well… your mom.”
Rowen nodded. She was wondering if the police were officially letting herself and Eric go now that the case hit closer to home. They hadn’t said anything yet but, even if they did, talking about it was probably still off limits.
“I know it seems like really minor news now, but… well, we need some kind of light news during times like these, don’t we?”
Rowen wasn’t sure they did, but she thought she saw where Rose was going with this. “You want me to finish up that Valentine’s Day story with the mayor,” she guessed.
“Yeah. Would you mind?”
Rose was a hard person to say no to. She was always so nice and helpful and hardworking. Rowen didn’t have the heart to deny her much. She didn’t ask for much. “Yeah,” Rowen sighed. “Yeah, I guess we can.”
Rose smiled, her shoulders sagging a bit in apparent relief. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“Do you have any kind of appointment with them?”
“You’ll have to call.” Rose took out her phone. There was a number in her contacts. “That’s the office number. Just ask the receptionist when he’s free. Just say we didn’t get all we needed last time.”
“What do we need outside of what we got last time?”
“I’ll send you some questions. Make sure you bring one of the cameras, too. We need pictures.”
Rowen nodded and moved along. “I suppose I’m coming along with you for this too?” asked Eric as they headed for the car.
“Unless you have something better to do.” Rowen knew that he didn’t. The Andrea and Rory case was as much on hold for him as it was for her. “Besides, if you think I’m letting you out of my sight for a second, you’re out of your mind.”
“You can’t try and babysit me forever, you know.”
Rowen scoffed. “Can’t I? We’ll see about that.”
Chapter Ten
The receptionist wasn’t very helpful. The mayor was all booked up she insisted. He had an appointment on the hour every hour for the foreseeable future. Rowen wasn’t going to let that slide. She headed for the mayor’s office anyway.
“You can’t just barge in there, you know,” Eric had said with a sigh.
“Can’t I?” asked Rowen. “My tax dollars pay for… I don’t know. His job or something. I’m allowed to wait around in the waiting room if I want to. That’s why it’s called a waiting room.”
