Moving Is Murder (13 page)

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.

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
  

E
ven 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.

When I put away the orange juice and butter, I saw Livvy’s antibiotic in the refrigerator. I measured out her dose, using the syringe from the pharmacy. A lot of neat things had come out since I was a kid, like pacifier holders that clip on to the baby’s clothes and small plastic boxes for carrying wipes in my diaper bag. How did my parents get along without this stuff?

Mitch was changing the liner in Livvy’s diaper pail while Livvy kicked her feet and waved her arms on the changing table at Mitch’s elbow. She took her medicine and then scrunched up her face. “Didn’t taste good?” I said to her.

I wiped the dribble of pink off her chin and said to Mitch, “I’m taking her back on Friday, so they can recheck her ears. I saw someone, Nick Town, I think, in the waiting room when I took her in last week.”

“You mean Nick Townsend?” Mitch said as he looked through Livvy’s clothes hanging on miniature hangers in
her closet. He pulled out a denim jumper and pink top with flowers embroidered around the collar. He took a pair of orange socks out of her sock drawer and changed her out of her sleeper. I took the orange socks back and got out a pair of pink socks. “Yeah, I guess so. I must have misunderstood the name. Short, restless guy?”

Mitch smiled. “That’s Nick.”

“I wonder why he’s going downtown? Think he’s seeing a specialist?”

“Only if it’s something we don’t have on base,” Mitch said as he matched up the snaps on the jumper. “Maybe he got hurt worse than he let on.” He picked up Livvy, tucking her up on his shoulder so she could see around the room. Her fuzzy head bobbed as she gripped his shoulder. “A few weeks ago he got into a fight at some bar. A guy said something to him and he flew at the guy.”

“Isn’t Nick kind of small to be getting into barroom brawls?” I asked as I replaced the hanger in Livvy’s closet.

“Tommy was there and he said Nick more than made up for his size. Said he looked like a terrier attacking the postman. But Nick knocked the guy out.”

“But don’t they have a lab and X-rays on base?”

“Sure,” Mitch said and led the way out of Livvy’s room. Before I could say anything else, the phone rang and I went to get the cordless phone from the kitchen.

“Ellie. Glad I caught you. Jill Briman.”

I said hello, while searching my mind for any friends named Jill. Then my brain clicked on: squadron commander’s wife. I might have to start drinking coffee if my brain refused to work more quickly than this.