by Sara Rosett
“Too tired for a candlelight date with my wife? I don’t think so.”
“Good.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. We kissed again, slowly; then I leaned back. “There’s one good thing about you having to go out of town so much.”
“What’s that?” he asked, interspersing his words between kisses on my neck.
“The coming home bit is nice.”
He smiled slowly. “I have to agree.”
“You know, we don’t have to eat right now. We can warm it up later.”
“Excellent idea.”
An Everything In Its Place Tip for an Organized Party
Party Countdown Checklist (One Week Prior)
Prep food—cut, chop, and arrange whatever you can ahead of time.
Prepare and freeze some food, if possible.
Pick up any items that you’re borrowing from friends.
Iron tablecloths and napkins. Polish silver, if needed.
Clean house.
Clean out the refrigerator and freezer.
Follow up with guests who haven’t responded to invitations.
Chapter Twenty-two
The next morning, I leaned over to kiss Mitch good-bye. “I’m leaving,” I whispered. “Kids are still asleep.” He murmured an agreement and I picked up the laundry basket. I had no doubt that the kids would make sure he was awake shortly. I sneaked down the hall to the laundry room at the opposite end of the house. I might as well throw in the first load since I had several piles of dirty clothes to wash today. It was so far away from the kids’ rooms, it wouldn’t wake them.
The laundry was like the Hydra that grew two heads for each one Hercules cut off. Every time I washed a load of laundry, twice as many dirty clothes seemed to sprout in the hampers. Too bad I couldn’t cauterize the hampers like Hercules did. But we couldn’t really have flaming hampers. Or dirty socks, for that matter. As I reached the end of the hall, I frowned.
What was that smell?
I pushed open the laundry room door and immediately recoiled at the rotten egg smell. I shut the door and hurried back to the bedroom. I was fairly handy at minor household repairs, but I knew nothing about gas leaks. I shook Mitch awake. “There’s a natural gas leak in the laundry room.”
“What?” he said blearily. He came fully awake when I repeated my news.
He paced down the hall and checked the laundry room. “Yep. That’s natural gas, all right.” He shifted the dryer a bit, then worked his hand into the space and closed a valve. He opened the tiny window above the dryer. “That should do it. I’ll fix it after it airs out.” He pulled the door closed and rubbed his hands through his bed head. “Good thing that door closes on its own, or else the whole house would smell like that.”
“So it’s not dangerous?” I asked as he ambled back to our bedroom.
“Not now. If that had been open all night and you made oatmeal for the kids, there could have been an explosion, but it’s good now.” He rubbed his hand over his hair, which was sticking straight up anyway.
“Why don’t we call the rental company? They’ll send someone out to fix it.”
“Nah, it’s not that hard and it’s a Saturday. It’ll probably take them until Monday to get someone out here. I’ll have it fixed before you get back,” he said as he climbed back into bed.
“I wonder how it happened?”
“We probably bumped it or it just wasn’t on the valve really well to begin with.”
“I was throwing the tennis ball with Rex yesterday. He chased the ball in here and slammed into the dryer when he lost his footing on the tile floor.”
“That probably did it. See you later,” he said with his eyes already closed.
The sun wasn’t even above the trees when I parked at the edge of the Quick Mart’s parking lot beside the shuttered stand that sold boiled peanuts. My breath came out in little white puffs as I hiked down to the cluster of people gathered at the edge of the vacant lot where the plastic bag had been found. I’d learned last winter that southerners do get a taste of winter. In middle Georgia the temperature could dip into the thirties overnight. There was rarely any snow, but it did get cold enough that gloves were required. After the sun cleared the trees it would warm up, but it would still feel like fall.
I saw several news crews inside the convenience store and pulled the brim of my baseball cap lower over my eyes. I’d dressed more for warmth than for anonymity in a long-sleeved shirt, down vest, jeans, boots, and gloves, but now I was glad that my hat hid my face, at least a little bit. Only Chelsea O’Mara and the male reporter knew what I looked like, and I hoped to steer clear of all the press today. They hadn’t reappeared last night. So far they hadn’t shown up on our street and I hoped it would stay that way, but I knew it was a strong possibility that they would be back and it irritated me. I didn’t like being held hostage in my house.
I spotted Colleen’s mustardy hair frizzing out from under a black ski cap, and hurried over to her. “Colleen! Hi!” I said.
She was sipping on a cup of Starbucks coffee and murmured hello. It didn’t look like she was a morning person and normally I would have felt bad about forcing her to chat with me when she clearly wanted to be left alone, but knowing that reporters could descend on my house at any moment…well, let’s just say that situation removed some inhibitions.
“This looks like a good turnout,” I said as I scanned the growing crowd.
“Pretty good.” She sipped her coffee and gazed listlessly at the office park where STAND’s offices were located.
I needed something to wake her up since the caffeine obviously wasn’t doing it. “Is Scott here?”
She shrugged. “No idea. Probably. He wouldn’t want to break his perfect attendance record. Unfortunately, we can’t bar him since it’s open to the public.”
At least she was focused on me now. “Colleen, did Jodi ever talk about what she was working on for the newspaper? Especially during those last few months?”
“Nothing specific. Sometimes she’d mention an interview or something, but only in general terms. I’ve gone over every conversation we had during those last few months and I can’t remember anything specific. Believe me, I’ve tried. The only thing that sticks out in my memory is one time. She was working on a story and said she might not be at the North Dawkins Standard much longer.” She finished off her coffee and tossed it in a trash can.
“And she never indicated what she was working on?”
“No.” Colleen sighed. “I’ve gone over that conversation again and again in my mind and she didn’t mention anyone or anything. In fact, it was more of a throwaway line. We were talking about whether she should paint the dining room in her house and she said she might as well wait and see if her story panned out. If it did, she might be able to get on at a bigger paper, like the AJC in Atlanta. I know the story had to be something big. I have no idea what it was.”
Something big. I’d say the Nash investigation would qualify as something big. It had certainly drawn national media attention. And Colleen was Coleman May’s granddaughter. Maybe that’s why Jodi hadn’t mentioned she was investigating Nash’s disappearance.
“Did she ever ask you any questions about your grandfather?”
Colleen’s head whipped toward me and she said, “No. Why?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to take the conversation in this direction, but I didn’t have a glib answer to throw her off either. Dang. I should have thought this one through, because coming up with stuff off-the-cuff was not my strength. In fact, I tended to get tangled up in my own words and trip myself up. By then it didn’t matter because my hesitation gave me away.
“She was looking into the whole Nash thing, wasn’t she?” Colleen turned away from me, her head thrown back and her hands braced on her hips; then she spun toward me again. “How? How do you know?”
“It was in her notebook. Just his name, nothing else, so I don’t know how far she got in her research, or even if it was only a story idea. She did k
now Coleman was your grandfather, right?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
“I only asked because I’d never have known. That night at the HOA meeting, I had no idea. Someone else told me you were related.”
Her hands, balled into fists, were still braced on her hips. “Look, I don’t broadcast it, okay? We’re not…” She shrugged and said, “Close. I hardly ever saw him when I was a kid. I lived in Seattle until I was ten, and I only remember one time that we came out to visit them. Grandfather made me a tire swing in the backyard and Grandma Ava let me play with her jewelry.” She sighed and shook her head. “It was cheap costume stuff. You know, the chunky brooches with lots of stones made into flowers or animals?”
I nodded. “My grandmother had the exact same stuff.”
Colleen smiled, more relaxed. “Yeah. Well, to a four-year-old those sparkly things were amazing. I loved the panda bear pin. Anyway, Grandma Ava let me play with them one afternoon. I had them spread out across her bed, every brooch, necklace, and earring.”
Colleen’s mood shifted and her face shuttered. She pressed her lips together, then said, “I don’t know how long I’d been in there playing, maybe an hour, but she came back later and freaked. She screamed at me. I don’t mean she yelled at me to put everything away. She lost control, shrieking. I was so scared. I thought she was going to hurt me. I used to have nightmares about it.” Colleen took a deep breath, seemed to shake off the memory. “Anyway, my mom packed our stuff that afternoon and we left. I didn’t see them again until I was ten and my dad got a job here. That’s kind of late to bond, you know, especially when your parents don’t get along with your grandparents. Makes it difficult. Looking back now, I can see that my parents kept us away from them, even after we lived here. We hardly ever saw them.”
“Was your grandfather volatile, like your grandmother?”
Colleen made a snorting noise. “No. Meek as a lamb, my mother used to say about him. That’s why the whole Nash thing is absurd. I wish Jodi had asked me about it. I could have told her he’d never do anything like that.”
She must have seen the doubt on my face, because she said, “I can understand why you’d think I might have a slanted view of my grandfather, but honestly, I hardly know him at all. I was only at his house that night of the HOA because of the connection to Jodi. You should talk to my mom. She’ll be in town this weekend. She can tell you about Coleman.”
Wouldn’t any family member have the inclination to cover for a relative?
“She’s never liked my grandparents, so you can count on her to give it to you straight,” Colleen added. “She even went back to her maiden name after the divorce. That’s why my last name isn’t May.”
She focused on a movement behind me and I turned to see what she was staring at. “I knew he’d show up,” Colleen said, her gaze focused on Scott as he walked into the Quick Mart.
“I didn’t recognize him with the baseball cap,” I said. He was back to his rumpled look in a University of Georgia hooded sweatshirt and worn jeans.
“Are you kidding? He’s got to be here to see if we find anything else that might implicate him. At least he had the courtesy to wear red. We’ll be able to keep track of where he is.”
“Colleen, do you really think he’d do something like tamper with evidence, if he found anything?”
She sent me a withering look and said, “I can see he’s charmed you, too.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s charmed me, but so far, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d hurt someone he didn’t agree with. Maybe argue them to death, but as far as physical harm goes, I don’t know. Do you know Candy? His receptionist?”
Colleen nodded and said, “Yeah, her daughter is in my science class.”
“Well, Candy doesn’t seem to be at all intimidated by him. In fact, she’s kind of, well, motherly isn’t the word, maybe bossy is a better choice, but she does seem to like him in a grudging way. And she doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d take crap from anyone.”
Colleen smiled. “You’re right on that.”
“Morning, ladies.”
Colleen and I both startled at the sound of a voice behind us. Scott stood a few feet away, holding two cups of coffee. He held one out to Colleen. “Thought you might need some more caffeine. It’s not Starbucks, but it is coffee. Cream, no sugar, right?”
Colleen stared at him for a moment before she said, “Ah, right. Thanks.”
She took the coffee and he raised his cup before moseying off to join another cluster of people.
“Well, that was unexpected,” I said.
Colleen rolled her eyes. “He was just being nice.”
“He sure didn’t bring me any coffee.”
Nita broke away from a tight circle at the edge of the vacant lot, a clipboard in one hand and a megaphone in the other. She raised the megaphone. “Good morning. First, I want to say thank you to each one of you for coming out today. I can’t tell you how much it means to us that you’re taking time out of your schedule to help us find Jodi. That’s why we’re here today, to make sure every inch of this vacant lot is scoured. We want to do this search as thoroughly as possible, so I’ve asked Detective Waraday to instruct us on the appropriate way to conduct this search.”
She handed the megaphone off to Waraday.
“We need everyone to line up across this side of the lot.” Waraday waved his arm, indicating the shorter end of the lot near the Quick Mart. We moved down and formed a rough line along the boundary of the lot. I ended up sandwiched between Topaz and a burly man in an insulated flannel jacket and work boots.
“How are you doing?” I asked Topaz.
“Great! Just got back from Jekyll Island yesterday,” she said as she tucked the longer side of her striped hair behind her ear. “I had two stores that sold out of my stuff, so I had to get out there. I wished I could have stayed because it’s so nice there—no crowds at all—but I felt like I should be back for this. I had no idea it would be so chilly.” She pulled her fuzzy multicolored scarf tighter around her neck, and her dangly metal earrings shivered.
Waraday’s voice came over the megaphone again. “Everyone spread out a little. You need space to move, but not too much. Good. Looks good. Now, we’re going to stay in this line and cross all the way over to the woods on the far side. For those of you who have the office park directly in your path, just wait for the rest of us to go around it and then get back in position on the far side. Move slowly. The most important thing is to stay low to the ground. If you see something, raise your hand and we’ll halt the line. I’ll send someone to assess what you found and then we’ll all move again on my signal. The woods on the far side will slow us down a bit, but it’s important to stay in line.”
Someone down the line shouted, “How far into the woods are we going?”
Waraday said, “All the way to Elliott Road. That means we’ll have to go around the lake. Use the same technique as with the office park. If the lake is directly in your path, drop back, let the line move around it, then take your place on the other side. This lot has been searched once by crime scene technicians, but there are a lot more of you than there were on that team. We may find something new, we may not, but the important thing is that if you see anything—paper, cloth, any disturbances in the dirt, digging, raised mounds, anything like that—raise your hand and let us check it out. Everyone ready? Okay, check the area directly in front of your toes. Anyone see anything?”
I didn’t have anything to report since I only saw wisps of grass, which were still green because of all the recent rain.
“Okay, let’s take one slow step and check again. Remember, the lower you can get, the better.”
We moved forward at a “Mother May I?” pace, one baby step at a time. We’d gone about three steps when Topaz squatted down and delicately moved a few blades of grass. Then she popped up and waved her hand. “I see something.” A ripple of excitement moved through the line. “I think it’s a gum wrapper.
”
Waraday approached, squatted to examine it, then placed it in a bag. “You’re right. Gum wrapper.” The tension eased as he noted the location, then said, “The smallest things can be important. Don’t overlook anything.” He gave the signal for us to move on.
I didn’t see anything more interesting than dirt, sticks, grass, and a few vines, but the line stopped moving several times. Each time word traveled down the line that it was a relatively minor thing. A scrap of paper, an empty can of motor oil, and a handmade garage sale sign all turned up and were carefully bagged and logged.
I had to admit that Waraday certainly was making every effort to do a thorough and professional search. Our line crawled past the office park and across the rest of the open area. We’d just entered the woods when a shout went up from a guy down the line. By then my shoulders, back, and thighs were screaming. Who knew searching the ground was such a good workout? I stretched and realized the people had gone extremely quiet. “What is it?” I asked Topaz.
“A mound of dirt.”
Chapter Twenty-three
“Oh no,” I said as the line began to collapse around Waraday. He stood up and pressed the air with his palms. “Stay in your line. We’ll let you know what we find.”
I realized I’d instinctively stepped forward and into the area in front of Topaz, so I stepped back. Waraday called in a woman from the sidelines and they carefully probed the stack of leaves, then removed a few of them. After a few minutes of both of them examining the ground, they stood up, walked carefully a few feet farther into the woods, and checked the ground again. I felt sick to my stomach and looked around to locate Nita. She was at the far end of the line, tensely waiting, her hand gripping Gerald’s.
