by Liliana Hart
“What’s she talking about? What story?” Jack asked.
“The one where you’re cheating on me with the floozy you were doing it with in the back of your Tahoe. Madam Scandal was watching from afar.”
“I hope she didn’t see me knee myself in the forehead. That would be embarrassing.” He rubbed at the spot and my lips twitched with laughter. “We probably shouldn’t do that again.”
“Or maybe just move to the backseat where there’s more room. I find the older I get, the more comfortable I like to be. Like going to a concert. I want to pay for the expensive seats so I can sit down the whole time and avoid teenagers standing up in front of me.”
“How old are you?” Jack asked, cocking his head. “A hundred?”
“Shut up. Remember how we got invited to go camping, but you found out we’d have to sleep in a tent instead of a hotel so you said no?”
“I just didn’t want an audience when we made love. You’re a screamer. Besides, there are certain luxuries one deserves after a certain age and income level.”
Katie came back in the room and set our tea on coasters on the coffee table in front of us, and Jack took out the red notebook he habitually carried and a pen to take notes.
“I can imagine you’re here about Mrs. McGowen.” She took the soft recliner across from us and tucked her legs beneath her in the chair. “It’s just awful. She was the sweetest woman. When Callie was born she knitted her a blanket and brought over all kinds of food so I didn’t have to cook.”
“Are you home most days with Callie?” Jack asked.
Katie rolled her eyes and rubbed a hand over her taut stomach. “I don’t get out much. Jeremy, that’s my husband,” she said, looking at me. “He’s a junior partner over at Crichton and Hutch, which means he does all the work with less pay, so he’s gone most of the time. It’ll pay off eventually when he makes partner, but right now things are tough.
“I’ll get out to the grocery store on Monday mornings. We go to Martin Grocery because Callie likes that Mrs. Martin gives her animal crackers to snack on while we shop. We’re usually done by ten o’clock so we can get home for Callie’s nap. I like to take one too,” she said smiling mischievously. “I could sleep sixteen hours a day. This baby has drained all my energy.” She looked at me conspiratorially and I couldn’t help but smile. “I figure it must be a boy. Only a man can leave you that tired.”
I snorted out a laugh and took a drink.
“Umm…let’s see,” she continued. “On Tuesday and Thursday at nine I take Callie to play group, but that’s pretty much it. I spend most of my time on this street, visiting with neighbors or working on various projects. The Millers—they own the big house in the middle of the cul-de-sac—they let me and Callie come down and use the pool.”
“Did you see Mrs. McGowen pretty regularly?” Jack asked. “At certain times or on certain days?”
“Oh, sure,” Katie said, taking a sip of her tea. “Rosie always said that idle hands were the devil’s workshop. She got up about four o’clock every morning and started baking. I could sometimes smell her cinnamon rolls. There was nothing like the smell of those cinnamon rolls. My mouth is watering just thinking about them. And they tasted even better. I could eat a truck full of those rolls.”
“When are you due?” I asked.
“Three weeks. It’s not going to be too long before we outgrow this house. I’ve always wanted to be a stay at home mom. Rosie would come over some afternoons and show me a recipe or two, walking me through it. I never had the hand at it like she did, but I can bake better than most. My husband usually goes in late for work when I get up to bake, so it’s nice to spend the extra time with him.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Jack asked.
“She brought banana bread on Sunday afternoon. About three o’clock. Carl was with her. She’s very independent, and she’d sometimes stack everything on her walker and haul it up and down the street, but Carl stopped her and insisted he carry the basket. She brought me two loaves.”
“You didn’t see her any time after that?” I asked.
“I didn’t see her,” Katie said. “I heard her. She doesn’t like turning on her air conditioner until she has to. She lives on a fixed income, so she was real particular about that stuff. So she’d open all her windows and turn on her fans. She’d sleep with them open like that, but it’s not something you really have to worry about in this neighborhood. We do it sometimes too.”
“What do you mean you heard her?” Jack asked.
“She was real independent, like I said, still driving herself everywhere and things like that. But her hearing wasn’t so good. She’d turn her TV up real loud at night, so it was easy to hear with the windows open. But it didn’t really bother me. She always turned it off and went to bed about eight.”
“You heard her TV on Sunday night?”
“Yes, but I got busy because Callie had a fever, and Jeremy didn’t get home until after nine. I was up on and off through the night, but I saw her lights on and could smell something baking when I got up to check on Callie about five. I crashed pretty soon after that though. Callie’s fever broke and I put her in bed with me. I don’t think we woke up until close to noon.”
“Is there anyone in the neighborhood who didn’t get along with Mrs. McGowen?” Jack asked.
Katie paused and thought about the question. “It’s hard to say. It’s a real friendly street for the most part, but people are people. They get into over silly things and then they’re fine the next day. The Brights live two houses down from Rosie. No one really gets along with them, but they mostly stay to themselves, so I can’t say if they had an issue with Rosie. She brought them banana bread anyway.
“There are just little snipes here and there. Janet Selby tried real hard to get Rosie to move to assisted living just so she could sell the house for her and get commission. Janet was rather put out that Rosie said no. And one time, one of Rosie’s cats got out and Harrison Taylor found it on the hood of his Porsche. You’d have thought someone had taken a tire iron to it the way he reacted. He called the cops and tried to have the cat put down.”
“We went to school with Harrison Taylor,” I told her. “It sounds like he hasn’t changed much.”
Katie snorted in disbelief. “He’s a word I can’t say in front of a two-year old. He and his wife are a pair. JoAnn likes her margaritas, and she’s usually half-lit at any neighborhood function we have. I can’t blame her since she’s married to Harrison. But she used to drive Rosie crazy, always telling her she needed to publish her recipes and how she could help her get it done. And of course, they could split the profits.” Katie rolled her eyes. “JoAnn knows as much about cooking and publishing as she knows about modesty. I think it made Rosie uncomfortable though. She was very protective of her recipes. Rosie used to say a woman didn’t get to be her age without learning how to keep a good secret.”
“Can you give me a rundown on the rest of the street?” Jack asked.
“Oh, sure,” she said. “That’s easy. Doug Roland lives next door. He retired from the Army several years ago, but he likes to travel, so he’s rarely home. When he is home, he has a lady friend that comes to visit about three times a week. He never comes to any of the neighborhood stuff. In his words, ‘I hate that crap.’”
She stopped and tried to find a comfortable position in the chair, but I figured the only way she’d be comfortable again was to give birth.
“The Middletons live right across the street from Doug. They’re newlyweds. Monica is a nurse and works days, and Doug works nightshift security somewhere on Capitol Hill. I think he goes to school during the day, so he’s rarely home.” Katie looked as if she were going to say something else, but she paused.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“Not my business really. I’ve just noticed a couple of times Monica has had someone over during the night. I got an ice cream craving one night and went out about midnight. I could see two people m
oving around in the house, but there was no car in driveway. Someone could easily park on one of the side streets and cut through the woods. No one would see them. I just feel bad, you know? Doug’s a nice guy, and he’s working really hard.”
“Was she friends with Mrs. McGowen?”
“Not really. They were friendly, and Monica usually does participate in the neighborhood events, but she’s got her own life that’s separate. She seems a very private person.
“Next door to Doug and Monica is Clark and Maria Green. That’s the house directly across from this one. Maria is a few months behind me in her pregnancy, so I’ve been able to give her lots of maternity clothes.
“Jenson and Angela Davis live next door to them, right across from Rosie. They’re nice, but quiet. They’ve got two kids that walk over to the elementary school, and I’ve seen them next door for cookies and lemonade with the other kids. Abby Clearwater lives next to them. She just moved in last year, so no one knows her very well. She teaches at the high school. Harrison Taylor took a liking to her right off. Poor girl can’t shake him. I told you he’s a piece of work. A few months after Callie was born he made a pass. He grabbed my—” She paused and then spelled A-S-S. “He passed it off as an accident when I told him to keep his hands to himself. I started carrying mace. Abby got one for all the women on the street after he started hassling her.”
“None of the men have gotten into it with Taylor for making unwanted advances?” Jack asked.
“There’s definitely tension there, but Harrison likes to throw his weight around. He makes veiled threats about having loans recalled or investigating trumped up complaints. He’s the DA, so there’s not a lot anyone can do.”
What she said was the truth. No one had as much power as the DA. The good news was Harrison was up for reelection in November. I hoped he lost. He was a real horse’s ass.
“Of course, Carl and Robert live on the other side of Rosie. Poor Carl is the one who found her this morning. They were close. He was more like a son to her than a neighbor. Carl works in construction, so he’s usually home every day about four o’clock, but Robert works from home. Robert is Carl’s husband.
“I’ve already told you about the Brights,” she said, looking out the window at the house, mentally going through the checklist. “They live next door to Carl and Robert. Harrison and JoAnn are next to them on the cul-de-sac. Tom and Lynette Miller live in the big Colonial at the center of the cul-de-sac. They always have the neighborhood parties there because they have a pool. Next door to them is the Selbys. Very Stepford,” she said with a shudder. “They’re pretty active in the community. Always coming and going.”
Jack closed his notebook. “Katie, if you ever want a job as a cop let me know. You’re very observant.”
“My dad would kill me,” she said, grinning.
“Did you see Mrs. McGowen any other time this week?” Jack asked. “Did you notice her car gone or her TV too loud?”
“Now that you mention it,” she said, “no. It’s been a crazy week with Callie being sick, and I’ve been working on the nursery for the baby. I’ve been neck deep in paint and ordering the rest of his things online. I have noticed she wasn’t gone as much this week. Her car has been right there in the driveway every time I’ve looked that way.”
“Is she gone a lot?” I asked.
“Oh, sure. Rosie was very active, especially down at the senior’s center. I personally think she had a boyfriend. She’d sometimes leave late at night and come back before the sun came up the next morning. I’m a light sleeper and our bedroom is right next to her driveway. Jeremy can sleep through anything,” she said with exasperation. “Whereas I’m up forty-two times a night to go to the bathroom or trying to find a position so I don’t have a foot in my ribs. I figure I can sleep when I’m dead.” She winced after she said the words. “That’s a horrible thing to say. I’m sorry. I guess we never realize when one breath might be our last. I just hate that she was there by herself at the end. But she never seemed like she was a lonely woman. There was always someone around.”
“Did you see any cars in her driveway this week or anyone knocking on her door?” Jack asked.
Katie cocked her head and stare at Jack for a few seconds. “I’ve got pregnancy brain or I would’ve caught on faster. I am a cop’s daughter after all. You think someone killed her?” she asked, eyes wide. She glanced over at her daughter as if to make sure no one had snatched her out of her cage.
“We know someone did,” I confirmed.
“When? How?” she asked. “I just don’t see how that’s possible. Nothing happens in this neighborhood. It’s the safest place I know. Most people don’t even lock their doors.”
I wasn’t going to say anything, but that seemed like a mistake to me. This wasn’t 1983. The news was full of good places where bad things happen because bad people live in the world.
“I didn’t see or hear anything unusual,” she said. “It’s a quiet neighborhood. I haven’t noticed any cars out of place. We’ll get a lot of walkers and joggers because it’s a pretty street, and sometimes cars will pass by to look at the houses. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Jack and I thanked her for the tea and told her not to get up to see us out. She was looking a little peaked. The little girl in the cage was watching One Life to Live as if it were oxygen and finishing off her Cheerio’s. She didn’t even notice we left.
“What do you think?” I asked once we were back outside.
“I think whoever killed Mrs. McGowen knew her routine as well as Katie.”
We were back in front of the little gray house. It wouldn’t be long before it was all over town that someone had killed her.
“When are your bones going to be done?” he asked.
“Another couple hours or so. I’ll have Lily lay them out before she goes home for the day, and I’ll take a look at them first thing in the morning.”
When I’d first moved back to Bloody Mary after my parents’ “deaths”, I hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of taking over the family business. I was a doctor, and I liked being a doctor. And weirdly enough, I’d liked being an ER doctor, even though the pay wasn’t as great as specialists or surgeons and the hours were lousy.
And maybe if the coroner’s job hadn’t been offered to me I wouldn’t have stayed in Bloody Mary, carrying on the family legacy, especially after finding out what my parents had been using the family legacy for. But being a coroner—finding the reasons why someone died—made me see a different purpose than just saving lives.
I’d done a rotation in pathology when I was a resident, and I’d enjoyed it. My attending physician had said it was the best kept secret in medicine. You never had to work late and no one was in a hurry because dead people were still dead the next day. It was true, and I found I didn’t miss the chaos that working in the ER brought. It was nice to go home to my husband at night and still be awake enough to talk to him.
“Let’s go down and talk to Carl,” Jack said. “Maybe he can fill in some of the missing pieces.”
My nose squenched before I could help it.
“Maybe don’t do that when you see him. It was twenty years ago. People change.”
“I sure hope so. But just in case, do you think he’d be offended if I shook his hand with my gloves on?”
Chapter Five
I didn’t know much about Carl Planter other than the rumors that had probably plagued him every moment he spent in Bloody Mary.
The thing about King George County was that it was still south of the Mason Dixon line. People here liked to think that they were progressive thinkers and that things like equality were the norm, but the truth was, we still lived in an area with one of the most active Aryan Nation headquarters, where men were still seen as superior to women, where the LGTBQ community was talked about in hushed tones, and African Americans were watched closely in stores. Change wasn’t something easily accepted in the small parts of the country.
Don’t get me wro
ng, there were plenty of great things about King George County. It was a good place to raise a family and patriotism ran strong. But it was a place that preached against judging others, unless the judging happened with a cold beer or a sweet tea. Then it wasn’t judging. It was showing neighborly concern while making sure everyone knew someone else’s business.
According to Katie, Carl worked in the construction business in some capacity. There was a white Ford-150 parked in the driveway along with a silvery blue Prius. He also lived in my favorite house on the street. I was thinking he’d remodeled it, because it halfway looked like the other houses on the street, but on steroids.
It was a farmhouse-style house with two brick chimneys and a covered front porch with thick raw beams for the posts. The roof was metal, and green baskets of ivy hung evenly spaced between the porch posts. Glass French doors were placed right in the middle of the house and there was a matching pair on the opposite side, so you could see straight through. There weren’t coverings on any of the windows. When I looked at the house, I thought of space and light. And that it must be terribly hard to keep the house clean enough for people to be able to look inside all the time.
Jack rang the front doorbell and we only had to wait a few moments for Carl to answer.
“I thought we might get a visit from you two,” he said, opening the door wide. “I saw you go down and visit Katie.”
“Good to see you again, Carl,” Jack said. “It’s been a long time.”
“Almost twenty years,” he said, grinning. “Not near long enough to outrun the rumors that followed me out of town. I guess fantasy was much more exciting than the reality of my mom getting a job offer in Pittsburgh and having to move away.”
Jack laughed and acknowledged the elephant in the room. I tried to look like I had no idea what he was talking about.
“I’ve just poured some iced tea,” he said. “Robert is at the kitchen table.
