by Sara Rosett
Mitch shrugged. “Whatever you want to do, but I’m telling you, the food and beer are the main attraction.”
I went back to my list. “I weeded the flower beds this morning. I’m going to mop the kitchen floor, then start on the food.”
“Food? What food? We’ve already got the burgers and dogs.”
“I’m going to make chocolate chip cookies for dessert.”
There was a clatter; then Mitch came over to me. “Ellie,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. “You’re spinning out of control here. The house looks great. The yard looks spectacular. We even have plenty of chairs. You’ve covered it all. You don’t need to make cookies. Don’t get me wrong, I love your cookies, but let’s pick some up at the store tomorrow.”
“It’s just that…”
Mitch rested his forehead against mine. “Ellie,” he said lightly.
“Okay,” I sighed. “No homemade cookies, but we get ice cream at the store, too. And some brownies.”
“Fine,” Mitch said.
“And I guess you don’t want to hear about the appetizers we’re having—mini quiches, cheese straws, and a veggie tray.”
Mitch smiled and shook his head. “You’re making this way harder than it has to be, but if you want to…”
“Well, you’re the one who added the turkey.”
He kissed the side of my neck and released me. “Fine, make appetizers, make cookies, just don’t kill yourself.”
I blew out a breath and ran my hand over the back of my neck. Maybe Mitch was right. Maybe I was getting too worked up about things that didn’t really matter. Perhaps I was over-organizing? “Okay, you’re right. I am freaking out a little bit. Maybe I should get out of here, go for a walk.” I hadn’t been on a walk in days. I’d thrown myself into preparing for the party.
“Good idea,” Mitch said absently as he went back to work on the turkey fryer.
I went to get Rex’s leash. Even though we hadn’t had any weird or threatening incidents in the last few days—they’d felt almost normal, except for the discovery of Jodi’s body—I still was extra cautious. I didn’t think anyone would bother me while I had a Rottweiler by my side.
A few minutes later, I paused at the end of the street. I’d avoided the gravel path through the woods, since there had been so much activity there during the last few days, but now the cars were gone. The crime scene tape was gone, too. As I hesitated, I heard pounding footsteps behind me. I spun around and a woman jogger trotted past me with a quick wave, then continued up the gravel path.
I took a deep breath and paced up the path. I might as well get my first walk down the gravel path over with. I liked the idea of the jogger blazing the trail. At least I wouldn’t be alone.
I was about halfway down the path, just hitting the gentle curve, when the runner bobbed out of sight and a flash of yellow through the trees caught my eye. I slowed. Every so often a swath of open space branched off from the gravel path. Someday there would be paved roads shooting off from this road, twisting deeper into the development. Past two huge pieces of construction equipment, a person stood at the end of one of the cut paths. It was Nita.
I pulled on the leash and walked over to her. “Hello, Nita,” I said. She moved her head slightly and blinked her dark eyes. Delicate and slight, she again reminded me of a small bird as she stood there with her hands in her jacket pockets and her elbows tucked next to her body like folded wings.
I could tell she hadn’t heard my noisy approach; it took her a minute to break out of her reverie. “Hello.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, and the words didn’t seem to be enough, so I gave her a quick hug. She wasn’t a hugging-type person, but she surprised me when she gripped my shoulders in a tight, quick hug, then stepped away.
“Thank you, Ellie.” It didn’t look like she’d been crying. Her eyes weren’t red or puffy, but her face seemed to have aged since the last time I’d seen her, as if grief had deepened the creases and wrinkles.
“Are you okay out here?” I asked.
She nodded. “This is where they found her. She was here the whole time.”
I turned and saw a shallow depression in the ground, little more than a trench, really. The sun was setting and it cast everything in a golden light, a backdrop to the bright yellow leaves that still clung to the trees around us. It was so achingly beautiful that it made everything seem more surreal. There shouldn’t be a grave here in this golden fall landscape. “Wasn’t this area searched?”
I’d spoken more to myself than to Nita, but she answered matter-of-factly as she gazed at the field. “Yes. The whole neighborhood was searched. Twice. The areas were so immense. I’ve learned that it’s very…difficult…to find a body that has been buried. Especially when you have no idea where to start looking. The focus of the search was the house and neighborhood immediately around it. Then attention shifted to Peter Yannis and Florida.” She looked at me. “They’ve found him, by the way.”
“Peter Yannis?” I asked.
“Yes. Apparently, he went on vacation in the Caribbean last January and liked it so much he decided to stay. He didn’t even come home, just found a job and moved from the hotel to a tiny apartment in Charlotte Amalie. He’s been crewing a yacht, sailing vacationers around the Virgin Islands. He arrived back in Florida a few days ago to pack and put his condo on the market.”
So another suspect, however remote, was marked off the list. “What about Scott?” Party preparations had taken up all my time during the last few days, but I had watched the news and read the paper. Scott’s name hadn’t been mentioned. No charges had been filed, no arrest made.
“There’s no physical evidence to tie him to Jodi during that weekend,” Nita said with a small shrug.
I stood there not knowing what to say, but I didn’t want to leave her here with the sun going down. I stood beside her. Finally, she said, “I need to come here. I’ve spent so long believing she was alive that I have to come here to remind myself that she’s not. Gerald can’t come here. He’s been looking through our photograph albums and then driving around town, taking down the flyers. We’re each grieving in our own way.”
I swallowed. Before I could say anything, Nita went on. “She was wrapped in a blue plastic tarp with a shovel. The medical examiner says the shovel matches the injury to the back of her skull. It was over quickly.”
At least Jodi’s death had been instantaneous, unlike Nita’s pain, which had gone on for months and was now transforming into a different type of grief. I pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to know the details since I’d hoped that the end would be so different. The details made it worse somehow, but as I looked at Nita, I suspected she was reciting those details as a way to get through it. She was the type of person who faced things head-on and she was handling her grief in the same way she handled everything else in life.
Shadows were lengthening across the field. “Nita, I have to go. Is your car close to here? Can I walk you to it?” I asked doubtfully. I hadn’t seen her car parked on the street or along the gravel path.
“I’m parked down at the end of the gravel,” she said, nodding in the opposite direction from which I’d arrived. “You go ahead. I need to stay for a few more minutes. Thank you for listening.”
“Sure.” I turned and made my way back home.
Chapter Thirty
My conversation with Nita occupied my thoughts during the rest of the walk and I arrived home and automatically stopped to get the mail before going inside. I sifted through the envelopes quickly. Most of them were bills, except for the homeowners’ association newsletter and a few advertising flyers. The headline on the newsletter was a reminder to bag our leaves instead of shoving them into the street where they would clog the drains. Scintillating stuff. Other articles had pruning recommendations and reminders for the monthly HOA meeting. On the back was a small framed notice.
A Workout Designed for Moms
Are you looking for an easy way to get a
quick, consistent workout but can’t get to the gym? Do you have a stroller? If you answered yes to those two questions, then the Magnolia Estates Stroller Brigade is for you. You’ll get a workout that combines aerobic and resistance training while making new friends.
I stuck the paper to the refrigerator door with a Bugs Bunny magnet. That sounded like a workout that might actually work for me. I was about to pitch the last piece of mail in the trash, a glossy, oversize postcard picturing a white sand beach and see-through turquoise water, when I noticed the handwritten note on the back.
It was so nice to meet you last year. Hope you’ll come back and see us again. December is a great time to visit the Gulf. Off-season is beautiful and peaceful, but you already know that!
It was signed “Theresa.” The postcard was addressed to “Jodi Lockworth.” The return address was the La Rue Bed-and-Breakfast in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. I frowned at the card.
Mississippi? Had Jodi gone to Florida and Mississippi in December? Maybe I was reading too much into the few words. I tapped the card against the counter for a second, then picked up the phone and dialed the number listed under the address.
A recording stated, “You’ve reached the La Rue Bed-and-Breakfast. We’re sorry that we can’t take your call. We’re taking care of our guests right now. Please leave us a message and we’ll call you back as soon as we can. Have a great day.”
“Hi.” I clipped the postcard to the fridge with another magnet. “This is Ellie Avery. I got one of your postcards today and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” I figured I had a better chance of getting a return call if Theresa thought I was a potential customer, and who knows? We might be. That white sand looked pretty good.
“I don’t know why I bothered to clean up the rest of the house or worried about the yard,” I said to Abby as I surveyed the party. It had ended up, like most parties do, in the kitchen. Little groups of people spilled over to the dining room or the living room. Some people drifted onto the back patio to get their drinks from the ice chests, but few stayed outside. Most congregated around the spread of food in the kitchen. I could have skipped planting the annuals in the flower beds.
“That’s how it always is,” Abby said. We were standing in the kitchen. I had Nathan perched on my hip and she had Charlie on hers. Livvy came flying through the room, dodging between the adults like she was a downhill skier clearing the gates. Five kids tailed her, trying to keep up.
I reached out a hand and stopped her, then whispered, “Why don’t you show the other kids your new blocks?”
Her face, already sweaty from running, lit up. “We can build a city,” she said as she sprinted down the hall.
The oven timer beeped and I asked Topaz, who’d just entered the kitchen, if she’d hold Nathan.
“Um, okay. I’m not very good with kids…”
“You’ll do fine.” She held Nathan out from her body, his legs dangling. “Just hold him close to you. Use your body to hold him up.”
I pulled the cookie sheet out of the oven, transferred the mini quiches to a serving dish, and went back to get Nathan. He grabbed at Topaz’s dangling metal earrings.
“Here, let me take him back.”
“No, that’s okay,” she said as she pulled off the earrings, dropped them at the back of the countertop, then focused her attention on Nathan. “He really is a cutie.”
Nathan stared, fascinated, then seized a hunk of her stripy hair. “Ouch! He’s got a good grip.”
“Sorry,” I said, and pried his fingers off her hair, then took him back.
“Don’t worry about it.” She finger-combed her hair. “I don’t know how you moms do it.”
I’d set up some table games on the coffee table in the living room and Kyle, Nadia’s husband, called out, “Hey, we need another person for our team. Who wants to play?”
I waved him off. I had too much going on being the hostess to concentrate on the game that combined four other board games into one megagame.
“Mary!” Kyle shouted to a woman standing in the entryway. Topaz’s head jerked toward him.
“How about you?” Kyle called, “Come on, Mary, we need another player.”
The woman in the entryway shook her head, but Topaz said, “I’ll play.”
Abby said, “Great party, as usual. Maybe your next business can be as a party planner.”
I grimaced. “I don’t think so. Too stressful for me. I keep feeling like I forgot something and worrying about every tiny detail.”
Topaz’s laugh rang out. She was posed with her profile turned to the group and her arms flexed out in the classic Egyptian hieroglyphic stance. Her team shouted out, “‘Walk Like an Egyptian’!”
“King Tut. No, Cleopatra!”
Nadia joined us and I said, “Before I forget, I wanted to invite both of you to the Halloween Hayride. It’s a big tradition for the neighborhood and it would be fun if you could come. We could order a pizza or something for dinner before.”
Nadia squeezed her hands together. “Sounds wonderful! I just love hayrides, don’t you? The girls will be so excited. They’ve never been on a hayride. I’ve got to tell Kyle.” She hurried off.
Dorthea arrived and I went to say hello. We’d gone with the invite-the-neighbors ploy, hoping that would waylay any complaints about extra cars and noise. Nathan leaned toward her and she reached out to take him. “How’s my boy?” she asked as she snuggled him close.
Above the music and chatter, I heard the phone ring and answered it.
“May I speak with Ellie Avery?”
“Speaking,” I said.
“This is Theresa La Rue from La Rue Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“Oh. Hold on a second.” I hesitated. I didn’t really want to take this call right now, but who knew how long it would be before I’d get her on the phone again? I eased into the laundry room and closed the door so I could hear better. As more people arrived, the party got louder and louder. “Thanks for calling me back.”
“Sure. Did you want some specific information on the B and B?”
“Yes, that’s part of the reason I called. Do you have a brochure you can send me with prices and room descriptions?”
“Of course.”
I gave her my address and continued. “The other reason I called is about a postcard we received.” I described it and said, “The note on the back sounded as if you’d met Jodi. Did she come to your B and B last December? She had blond hair and was a youth sports coordinator as well as a part-time reporter.”
“Oh yes. The reporter doing the story on Hurricane Katrina. I remember her. She seemed like a sweet girl.”
“You remember her?” I asked, surprised. There was a basket of clean towels sitting on the dryer and I pulled one out and folded it.
“Yes, she was a beautiful girl and so intelligent. She didn’t stay here—that’s why I can tell you about her. If she’d been a guest, I wouldn’t confirm that she’d stayed here, but she just dropped in one afternoon, said she was making the rounds of the B and Bs looking for background info for a story she was writing.”
“So you had a long conversation with her?”
“Well, I don’t know if you’d call it a conversation. It was more like a monologue. You get me going and I can talk forever, and when the topic is Katrina, which rocked our world, let me tell you, I have plenty to say. And she wanted to hear it all.”
“Was there anything in particular she was interested in?”
Theresa, who’d been so open before, shut down. “Who did you say you were, again?”
“It’s kind of a long, convoluted story. Jodi lived in the house we’re living in now. That’s why I got your postcard. Jodi’s been missing since last January. Her body was discovered a few days ago near here.”
“Oh my God,” Theresa breathed.
“You might have seen some news coverage about her on the cable channels.”
“No, I never watch the news. Too depressing. Oh my God. I can’t believe it.”
“Anyway, her family knows she went to the Gulf Coast in December, to Destin. They thought she only went to Florida. And as far as I know, the investigation only checked out her activities in Florida. If she did go to your B and B…well, it raises some interesting questions. Like why would she go to Mississippi and why aren’t there any charges on her credit cards or bank statements in Mississippi?”
“That…I’m shocked. She was…” She cleared her throat and said, “I’m speechless, which is something for me. What did you want to know?”
Before I could repeat my question, she cut me off. “You’ll call the police when you hang up with me, right? Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Well, I don’t remember everything, but of course, she asked about Katrina and that got me rolling. You see, we rode out the storm here. The house had been here since 1912. It survived Camille and we thought it would ride out anything. We were wrong.”
“What happened?”
“The short version is that the house basically broke in half. At first, it was only rising water, and then the ocean swept through. It was a huge surge because we were so close to the beach. It ripped the house apart like it was a dollhouse. You have no idea how much faith and security you put in your house. I always felt like I was safe there, but that day I saw how truly fragile everything is. I spent the rest of the storm clinging to a tree branch down the road.”
“It sounds like it was awful.”
“It was,” she said flatly. “It was worse after the storm passed because we could see the devastation. Just foundations where houses had been. Clothes and blankets tossed up in trees. Scraps of people’s lives scattered around like confetti. And that’s not counting the human loss.”
