Moving Is Murder

by Sara Rosett

  Tessa put down her book. “Oh, you’ve got Livvy!” The book’s cover had a bare-chested man embracing a woman in a nightgown. The background, a field of pink flowers, contrasted with Tessa’s camouflage uniform, called Battle Dress Uniform, or BDUs. People’s reading choices always surprised me. She smiled at Livvy. Tessa’s white teeth shown brightly against her dark chocolate–colored skin as she said, “She’s still gorgeous.”

  When we first arrived in Vernon we stayed in Lodging on base in a hotel room until our boxes were delivered. I could only spend so many hours in a hotel room watching TV and reading the local paper. It was too hot to do anything outside, so after I wandered around the Base Exchange and checked our mail at the post office, I’d head over to the squad where Mitch was already working. Tessa was Livvy’s biggest fan in the squad.

  “Want to hold her?” I asked.

  “Nah. You’ve got her all buckled in. Leave her. I’ll hold her next time you come by the squad. I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

  “I’ve been unpacking.”

  “But you were at the barbeque. Can you believe that?” Tessa’s soft southern drawl stopped abruptly. “Oh, I forgot. You …”

  “Yeah. I found her.”

  Tessa’s face turned sympathetic. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  “It’s just that everyone is talking about Cass nonstop. Especially with the questioning going on.” Tessa shook her head. “Couldn’t get any work done when she was alive and can’t get any work done with her gone, either.”

  “What?” I slid into the chair across from her and put the car seat on the floor.

  “Well, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead or anything, but that woman was at the squadron all the time. Constantly in and out of the orderly room, looking for Joe or for Colonel Briman. She always had some ‘issue’ to discuss with Briman, but I don’t know why she had to discuss everything draped over his desk. Like she was his top priority.” Tessa usually had a stack of forms for Briman to sign on her desk. I’m sure Tessa thought the forms took priority over Cass. “But she treated all the guys that way. Like on Friday. I saw her on my way to the barbeque. There she was practically glued to Captain McCarter, laughing and flirting.”

  So, Cass was snuggling up to Mr. Wandering Hands. “And I bet he didn’t discourage her.”

  Tessa shook her head. “He certainly wasn’t running the other way.” Tessa leaned toward me. “Colonel Briman’s had several complaints about Captain McCarter being too friendly to the ladies, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. What’s going to happen?”

  “Nothing, for now. No one wants to put anything in writing.”

  I asked, “Do you think there was anything going on between Cass and Brent?”

  Tessa stirred the chicken noodle soup in her bread bowl before she answered. “You know, I don’t think there was. I told that closed-mouthed detective that, too. I think she wanted, maybe needed, the attention. She had to have every man in the vicinity wrapped around her little finger. She was a flirt, but I don’t think it went any deeper.”

  Mitch came over, said hello to Tessa, and then we left. As we stepped into the parking lot, I wondered if Cass had died because she was a tease. Or maybe she did have an affair.

  “I’d better go. Got a meeting in ten minutes,” Mitch said. He kissed me good-bye and headed for his car on the other side of the parking lot. I trudged down the row to the Cherokee. In the slot next to the Cherokee, a man sat on the open tailgate of his small white pickup truck, pulling on boots.

  “Hi, Jeff.” I waved and closed the last few steps.

  “Hey, Ellie. Is Mitch around?” I’d wondered what Jeff’s attitude would be when I saw him. Would he be depressed or angry? But his tone and open smile were so, well, normal that I found myself talking to him without feeling awkward. He patted Livvy’s foot and scanned the parking lot for Mitch.

  I said easily, “No. He’s gone back to the squad.”

  Jeff pulled the laces tight on the last boot, a pale brown desert camo boot. I nodded at the boots. “Left over from your last deployment to Iraq?”

  He yanked the laces into a tight bow, then tucked them inside the top of the boot. “Yeah.” He hopped off the tailgate. Without his weight, the pickup rose several inches. “I’m going scouting. Best use of these dang boots, yet.”

  “Oh. Scouting. Like for a place to hunt?” Abby had explained that scouting out good hunting locations and obtaining the owner’s permission to hunt on the land could take as much, or more, time than the actual hunting.

  “Yep.” Jeff stowed his shiny black boots that went with his flight suit in the bed of the pickup and grabbed a plastic bag with the AAFES logo, the company that ran the Base Exchange. He slammed the tailgate closed.

  “I thought you were in a hunting lease.” He eyed me for a second before he stripped the plastic bag off of a grid map of Eastern Washington.

  “Abby told me,” I explained.

  Jeff smiled, his eyes crinkling and the second of tension I’d felt dispersed. “Yeah. Abby tells everyone everything. I’m in a deer lease. Today, I’m looking for a place to hunt ducks.”

  “Oh. So who else is in the lease with you?” To keep the relaxed atmosphere, I quickly added, “Is there room for Mitch?”

  “Sorry. We’re full up. Got me, Tommy, and two other local guys. They won’t take anyone else, but maybe someone will drop out and Mitch can join next year.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell him. Is it close?”

  “North of town. About an hour up 247,” Jeff said, naming a state highway. “Okay, I’ll let you go. Good to see you.” He patted Livvy’s foot again and got in his pickup.

  I drove home from the base on automatic pilot. So Jeff really was in a hunting lease and I bet the guys at the squad would back him up. And his disposition was sunny, upbeat. He looked like his biggest worry was finding a pond full of unsuspecting ducks. I should have felt better after seeing how relaxed he was. He wasn’t worried about a murder charge. But shouldn’t he have looked a little worried? If detectives were asking questions about me, I’d be a nervous wreck. Of course, he didn’t do it. Not Jeff.

  I hoped he didn’t do it. Okay, don’t think about that. Who else could it be? Cass caused a lot of trouble. She was fired up about some housing development and had it out with Diana at the spouse coffee. But that was underway. Diana was selling lots and people were already building. Not much Cass could do there. Cass was spreading rumors about Gwen, and Cass was snuggling up to Brent.

  I turned the corner at our street and saw Rex, lounging in the sun on our concrete driveway. He flipped from his side to his feet, then stretched, first his front legs, then his back legs. Finally, he trotted over to my car door, languidly wagging his tail.

  “What are you doing out of the backyard?” I asked Rex as I climbed out of the Cherokee. Mabel rounded the corner. She quickly strode along in a black shirt paired with black, red, and tan plaid pants.

  “He’s been there for about an hour.” Mabel patted her shiny forehead with a tissue. “I saw him jump the fence when I started my walk. He’s been very well behaved. Just sunning himself.”

  “But how did he get out of the Vincents’ backyard? Does he get out a lot?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve never seen him out before,”

  I bet if Rex had gotten out before Mabel would have seen him.

  Mabel continued, “He’s really quite clever. Used that tree beside the fence with the low-forked trunk. He jumped on it and boosted himself over the fence.” She tucked the tissue in her waistband and reached down to scratch Rex’s ears.

  “Why would he want out now?”

  “Probably lonely.” Rex thumped his tail. “Well, I’ve got to get on the Nordic Track. Good luck.” She patted my shoulder. Livvy realized the Cherokee’s rocking motion had stopped and started crying.

  “I don’t need this today,”
I muttered to Rex.

  An Everything in Its Place Tip for an

  Organized Move

  Hand carry essential paperwork. If you’re driving to your new home, consider purchasing a small safe with a lock to store documents like:

  Financial records

  Marriage and birth certificates

  Shot records

  Chapter

  Eleven

  Even though the North Country Mall was located in the relatively flat and treeless North Valley of Vernon, which had been cleared for the development of tract housing and strip malls, the interior of the North Country Mall combined the atmosphere of a log cabin and a northwest forest. Rough bark lined the walls between the shop entrances; planters with lofty trees stretched toward the second-story skylights and ivy twisting up their trunks. The centerpiece of the mall was the two-story waterfall cascading from the edge of the food court on the top floor. “So where is Rex now?” Abby asked as she took another bite of pepperoni pizza.

  “In our backyard.” I raised my voice over the rush of water beside our table near the waterfall. Last night Rex had decided he was tired of being by himself in the Vincents’ backyard. “Mitch fed him and we walked him around the park before we went home. He barked and whined for two straight hours. We finally gave in around nine o’clock. I figured the neighbors would call the pound if the noise went on much longer. He slept in the kitchen last night.”

  “I bet Mitch is happy.”

  “Ecstatic.” I took a bite of pizza crust. “Mitch loves having a dog. Now he’ll want to get one as soon as Joe is back.” I sighed and wiped my greasy fingers on a paper napkin, hoping Rex wasn’t licking Livvy’s toys or Livvy. Maybe Rex was even outside. No, as soon as Abby had called this morning Mitch said, “Go on. A break will be good for you.” He had shooed me out the door and I’m sure he opened it wide for Rex as soon as I turned the corner. I decided not to think about it.

  “When is Joe coming back?” Abby asked.

  “We’re not sure. He’s staying at least until the end of this week. Mitch talked to him last time and said he sounded vague even about that. I’m sure he’ll call us.”

  Abby’s face still had that closed look and dark circles under her eyes indicated she wasn’t sleeping well. As I opened my mouth to ask how she was doing, she said, “Hey, isn’t her husband in the squadron?” Abby nodded to a woman weaving her way through the tables.

  “That’s Friona.” She set her drink down a few tables away from us, then piled four shopping bags on one chair and flung a hanging bag over the pile. The hanging bag, stuffed with clothes, looked like a body bag. It slid to the floor.

  “Oh, I meant to tell you I thought I saw her at Copeland’s the night Livvy got sick. She was wearing one of those green aprons like she worked there.” Friona picked up the bag by the hangers, flung it across another chair, and then sat down in the third chair.

  Friona’s black jeans emphasized her long legs and her black short-sleeved turtleneck showed off the rest of her figure. Today her dark hair hung thick, straight, and shiny to her shoulders. With a pair of dark sunglasses, which she probably had in her oversized black bag, she would look like a movie star or model dressing down to elude the paparazzi. She took a drink of her soda, then unzipped one ankle-length boot, kicked it off, and rubbed her instep.

  “It must have been someone else,” Abby said.

  “I know. It doesn’t look like she spends her working hours asking if it will be paper or plastic.”

  We finished our lunch and stopped at Friona’s table to say hello. When she recognized us, she put her boot back on, slid the zipper closed, and stood up in one smooth motion. “New boots. I had a wicked cramp.” She edged over to the pile of packages.

  Abby smiled. “I know exactly how you feel. I love to buy shoes, but I hate breaking them in. We’re on our way to the parking lot. If your car is on the other side of the mall, we could give you a ride.”

  “No.” Friona snatched the bags and smiled a shallow smile to cover her sharp tone. “Nice of you, but I’ve got more shopping.” She tucked her hand with the shopping bags behind her and hooked the hanging bag over her shoulder, her elbow extended out.

  She edged away. “Bye.” She hurried out of the food court.

  “She didn’t want to spend an extra minute with us,” Abby said as we stepped on the escalator.

  “She told me she shops, but wow, she had a lot of bags.”

  “Must have been a sale.”

  “You know, I think she lives on your street,” Abby said as she swung open the heavy glass door to the parking lot. “I talked to her and her husband when I was out on a run.

  He was mowing the yard while she sat on the porch.”

  “My street? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Across the street from you. Next door to Cass and Joe.”

  I hooked my keys on the key hanger inside the kitchen door. “Hello?” I called softly in case Livvy was sleeping, but the house felt empty.

  I found a note beside the phone. “Gone for a walk. Back soon.” The hardwood floor creaked as I walked through the quiet house. I thumped down into our overstuffed chair and wondered what to do with myself, looking at the disarray of folded onesies on the couch and Livvy’s favorite rattle dropped under her bouncy chair. Fold clothes? Take a bubble bath? Read? Start supper? I discarded the ideas as quickly as they came. I wondered where Mitch had taken Livvy for a walk. Probably to the park, but if I left now I might miss them. We walked several different routes to the park and back. I’d stay here and wait.

  I realized I was anxious to see them, especially Livvy. I laughed at myself. Here I was with nothing to do and I was alone, a state I missed and longed for frequently now that Livvy dominated so much of my days, and nights for that matter. But now that I was alone and it was quiet, I was wondering where Mitch and Livvy were and if I could catch up with them. I shook my head at myself. I wanted something, and then when I got it I wanted something else.

  I emptied my shopping bags on the ottoman, a pitifully small haul compared to Friona’s purchases. Fall was on the way, so the stores were well into their winter clothes with coats, wool, and flannel dominating the displays. I had found one pair of shorts on a clearance rack and bought them. Then I paid way too much for the jeans, but I would need something when the weather turned cold. And everyone kept assuring me that it would be a long winter. Like I really wanted to dwell on those thoughts. I’d never liked driving on ice.

  I found a pair of scissors and cut off the price tags on the clothes. Then I pulled out the purse I’d found at a kiosk in the mall. Patchwork-like squares of tapestry fabric mixed with denim covered the tote bag. A fuzzy black trim edged the top of the bag. It was just the thing to add some pizzazz to my sedate mommy wardrobe of jeans, shirts, and sweaters. I added it to the pile of clothes on the ottoman, then I leaned back and put my feet up. I’d do nothing. I gazed out the window across Ed and Mabel’s perfect lawn and studied the Vincents’ house. I needed to pick up their paper and take in the mail today. I wondered if the investigators would ever ask us for a key to the Vincents’ house to check it out.

  My eyelids were drooping when a white car slowed and pulled into the driveway next door to the Vincents'. I sat up and watched a slim woman with long dark hair get out of the driver’s seat. It was Friona. She opened the trunk, pulled out her bags, and dragged them inside. So it had been Friona I’d seen going to Copeland’s that night. I looked from Friona’s house to the Vincents’ house. Did Cass notice Friona leaving at night? Friona drove without lights, perhaps because she didn’t want to be seen. I got that prickly feeling along the back of my neck. Cass’s death and Friona’s stealthy nighttime drives probably had nothing in common.

  But then I remembered what had teased at the edge of my thoughts when Mitch said a spouse might be involved in Cass’s death. Friona had red lumpy marks on her arm at the barbeque, like bug bites or stings.

  I’d go take in the mail for the Vincents’ and see if I
ran into her again.

  I moved the hose and turned on the water in the front yard before I unlocked the Vincents’ front door. I tossed the newspaper onto the counter beside the growing mound of mail and rolls of newspapers encased in plastic covers. I glanced in the bedrooms, checked the bathroom quickly for leaks, and stuck my finger into the soil of a few potted plants. They were still moist, so I twisted the dowel to open the living room miniblinds. It was overcast and they needed as much light as they could get.

  Something seemed off, different. I tilted my head sideways and thought as I retraced my steps through the house. I stopped at the pink bedroom. The closet door was open. It must have caught my eye when I checked the bathroom. I knew that closet door had been shut the last time I checked the house, because I remembered noticing the pastel poster of a ballet dancer on the door. Now the door was open. The eyelet bedspread and pink lamp on the nightstand were for Cass’s daughters who visited a few times a year. Cass put in a lot of work to make their room special. During the rest of the year wouldn’t it remind her everyday that her daughters weren’t with her?

  I walked around the end of the bed and closed the closet door. Everything else looked fine. I’d have to remember to ask Mitch if he opened it when he brought in the mail yesterday. As I stepped onto the porch, Mitch turned the corner down the street and waved. He pushed the stroller with Rex bouncing around him and the stroller like a basketball. I locked the front door and went to meet them.

  I plunged the pan into the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink. I could hear Mitch talking to Livvy down the hall as he changed her diaper and dressed her. Livvy still had a runny nose, so we had opted for French toast, eggs, and bacon instead of church hunting this weekend. I dried the skillet and wondered if we would be able to get a dishwasher soon. I loved the charm of the older homes, but they lacked what I considered basic amenities.