Police,” said the heavyset man as he ambled across the grass to me. He didn’t remove his aviator sunglasses from his face, which was narrow near his forehead and salt-and-pepper crew cut, but widened around his chin and lower checks because of his jowls.
The approach was so similar to Mansfield’s last night that I thought of MacInally. Were they here to ask more questions about him? Had he gotten worse?
“I’m looking for Summer Avery,” Detective Brown said as the young woman followed him.
“I’m Ellie Avery, Summer’s sister-in-law. She lives in the converted apartment in the back,” I said and pointed to the small building at the back of the lot. It was obvious that the apartment had once been a detached garage, because the driveway still ran right up to the edge of the small building. “Is there something wrong?” It dawned on me that a detective wouldn’t bring me news about MacInally’s health.
“Thanks. Just usual inquiries,” he said and walked up the slight incline of the driveway with the woman.
I turned back to the van. “I’d better go.”
Abby leaned forward. “Do you want me to stay? Do you think everything is okay?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s okay, but I think it’ll be better if I go by myself.”
“All right. Call me if you need me. I can get a cab or something and come get you.”
By the time I got to Summer’s door, the police were already seated on her futon couch. Summer had pulled a bar stool over to the “living area” and perched there with one high-heeled foot dangling. She hopped up when she saw me walking up the driveway and let me inside. “Just be a sec,” she said to me as I headed to the other bar stool in the kitchen area. “Help yourself to something to drink.”
I really couldn’t believe her sometimes. A second session with the police and she was acting like all she needed to do was put on her lip gloss and she’d be ready to go. I know I wouldn’t be so blasé.
Summer went back to the living area and I found a bottle of water in the fridge. One of the first mantras of pregnancy is to stay hydrated. Not that I’m very good at following mantras, but I like to at least give the hydration one a shot every once in a while. I climbed onto the other bar stool, wishing I could kick off my shoes. I hadn’t thought I was tired from the day, but suddenly my feet and calves ached and I wanted to stretch out and take a nap. The monuments had been amazing and I’d been caught up in their massive scale.
I couldn’t see Detective Brown’s face, but the set of his shoulders seemed to telegraph his disapproval. He asked, “So you met Jorge Dominguez six months ago?”
Summer shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t remember the date. He came to work for the Archers’ last fall. Probably around October. I’m sure they’ll have the date.”
“Did he have any family?”
“I don’t know.”
“How often did you talk to him?”
“I don’t really know. Whenever he was here doing the yard I’d say hello to him if I was leaving to go to class or coming back home. And I saw him in the Metro a few times.”
“When did you start dating?”
It was a good thing I hadn’t taken a big swig of water because, if I had, I would’ve spit it across the room. I managed to choke down my drink with only a muffled cough. Summer didn’t seem to notice my reaction. She laughed, a short, you’ve-got-to-be-kidding laugh. “We didn’t date.”
“Your neighbors say you rode in the landscaping truck with him.”
“He gave me a ride to class once when the battery in my car was dead. It was on his way to his next job. It was nothing.”
“When did he start bothering you?” Summer’s foot swung into a higher gear, but that was the only sign his question bothered her. I bet Brown picked up on it, though.
“He asked me out for a date. It was probably a month ago. I said no, thanks. End of story.”
The woman stood up and strolled around the room. Since
The approach was so similar to Mansfield’s last night that I thought of MacInally. Were they here to ask more questions about him? Had he gotten worse?
“I’m looking for Summer Avery,” Detective Brown said as the young woman followed him.
“I’m Ellie Avery, Summer’s sister-in-law. She lives in the converted apartment in the back,” I said and pointed to the small building at the back of the lot. It was obvious that the apartment had once been a detached garage, because the driveway still ran right up to the edge of the small building. “Is there something wrong?” It dawned on me that a detective wouldn’t bring me news about MacInally’s health.
“Thanks. Just usual inquiries,” he said and walked up the slight incline of the driveway with the woman.
I turned back to the van. “I’d better go.”
Abby leaned forward. “Do you want me to stay? Do you think everything is okay?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s okay, but I think it’ll be better if I go by myself.”
“All right. Call me if you need me. I can get a cab or something and come get you.”
By the time I got to Summer’s door, the police were already seated on her futon couch. Summer had pulled a bar stool over to the “living area” and perched there with one high-heeled foot dangling. She hopped up when she saw me walking up the driveway and let me inside. “Just be a sec,” she said to me as I headed to the other bar stool in the kitchen area. “Help yourself to something to drink.”
I really couldn’t believe her sometimes. A second session with the police and she was acting like all she needed to do was put on her lip gloss and she’d be ready to go. I know I wouldn’t be so blasé.
Summer went back to the living area and I found a bottle of water in the fridge. One of the first mantras of pregnancy is to stay hydrated. Not that I’m very good at following mantras, but I like to at least give the hydration one a shot every once in a while. I climbed onto the other bar stool, wishing I could kick off my shoes. I hadn’t thought I was tired from the day, but suddenly my feet and calves ached and I wanted to stretch out and take a nap. The monuments had been amazing and I’d been caught up in their massive scale.
I couldn’t see Detective Brown’s face, but the set of his shoulders seemed to telegraph his disapproval. He asked, “So you met Jorge Dominguez six months ago?”
Summer shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t remember the date. He came to work for the Archers’ last fall. Probably around October. I’m sure they’ll have the date.”
“Did he have any family?”
“I don’t know.”
“How often did you talk to him?”
“I don’t really know. Whenever he was here doing the yard I’d say hello to him if I was leaving to go to class or coming back home. And I saw him in the Metro a few times.”
“When did you start dating?”
It was a good thing I hadn’t taken a big swig of water because, if I had, I would’ve spit it across the room. I managed to choke down my drink with only a muffled cough. Summer didn’t seem to notice my reaction. She laughed, a short, you’ve-got-to-be-kidding laugh. “We didn’t date.”
“Your neighbors say you rode in the landscaping truck with him.”
“He gave me a ride to class once when the battery in my car was dead. It was on his way to his next job. It was nothing.”
“When did he start bothering you?” Summer’s foot swung into a higher gear, but that was the only sign his question bothered her. I bet Brown picked up on it, though.
“He asked me out for a date. It was probably a month ago. I said no, thanks. End of story.”
The woman stood up and strolled around the room. Since
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