Evidence of Guilt by Jonnie Jacobs

Velma's husband," I prompted.
    "Yeah. The guy's a lech. And crazy besides. You go to pick up your order and he makes you lean way over to get it so he can look down your blouse. You don't give him a peek, he makes sure your next meal is either raw or overcooked. The way he's always making suggestive remarks, you'd think he was eighteen instead of almost sixty."
    "Why do you put up with it?"
    She shrugged. "It's not a bad place to work. Even with Carl. And I make decent money."
    "Is that why Lisa put up with it too, because of the money?"
    "Lisa never got too upset about Carl. She'd threaten him with everything from bringing a sexual harassment suit to telling Velma, but it was all talk. It was almost like she enjoyed the attention. Jeremy, stop it!"
    Caroline turned to rein in the toddler, who was now using the cushion between us as a trampoline. In the process she detached herself from the baby's mouth. He let out an angry, ear-splitting wail. Caroline sighed again, rehooked the baby, then turned back to me as if it were all my fault.
    Which in a way maybe it was. "Look, I'm sorry," I said. "I can come back another time if that would be better."
    "It won't be any different." Her tone was resigned. Jeremy tried crawling into her lap, whimpering that he was hungry. "You just ate," she protested as she endeavored to nudge him to the side.
    The kid was not easily dissuaded. He butted the baby with his head and continued to whimper. "I wanna cookie. And juice."
    "Wait until I'm finished here, would you?"
    It was clear that waiting was not Jeremy's strong suit. And putting up with whiny kids was not mine.
    "I'll get it for him," I offered. "If you'll tell me what and where."
    "No, he can wait for ..."
    Jeremy had been tugging at the baby's bootie. Suddenly it came loose and Jeremy toppled back against the coffee table. Although he didn't appear to be hurt, he wailed loudly.
    Caroline sighed. "Okay, you win. Cookies and juice." She turned to me apologetically. "Is it okay if we move into the kitchen?"
    "Sure."
    Still holding the baby to her chest, she tried to open the refrigerator with her elbow. When I repeated my offer of help she smiled gratefully. "Thanks. The apple juice is in a pitcher. You can use the Snoopy cup by the sink. The
    cookies are in the drawer next to the stove." From the look on her face you'd have thought I was offering to scrub the kitchen floor, which I'd noticed needed it badly. The soles of my shoes stuck with every step.
    I poured Jeremy's juice and dug out the bag of frosted animal cookies. We settled at the Formica table, which had been squeezed into one end of the narrow kitchen. The windows were bare, and the blue and white wallpaper had already begun to peel at the edges, but I noticed she'd hung an embroidered sampler on the wall near the door. Home, Sweet Home.
    When she saw me looking, she laughed. "My mother-in-law made it," she said, in a voice that spoke volumes. "Now, where were we?"
    "You were saying that Lisa was friendly, but distant."
    "Right. Sometimes it was more than distant. There was a restlessness about her that was hard to pin down. It was like she was there, but she wasn't."
    "Do you think she was involved with drugs?"
    "I couldn't say for sure, but I'd guess not. I don't know how she'd afford them, for one thing. And she was pretty careful about her body because of the headaches. Besides, she was into being responsible. I got the feeling she'd knocked around quite a bit before, but now she wanted to get her life back on track for Amy's sake."
    "How about recent conflicts? Was there anyone who was angry with her?"
    Caroline's tone had lightened considerably after we'd shared the quip about her mother-in-law. But now her expression grew subdued again. She hesitated, then shook her head. "Nothing that I recall."
    "Do you know where Lisa was living before she moved to Silver Creek?"
    The Bay Area somewhere. Maybe Berkeley. But I don't think she was there long."
    "Did she ever talk