that morning over
applesauce. “Ron said that, not me,” she said sadly, hating to relive those
moments again.
“So you are comfortable with continued questions?”
Sadie just shrugged and looked at a crack in the sidewalk at
her feet.
“Is that a yes?” Detective Cunningham asked. “It would be very
helpful if you would continue answering questions for us. You knew Ms. Lemmon
and so far you’re the only person with any intimate knowledge of her life. We
would appreciate your assistance.”
Sadie had always been a sucker for people needing her help—it’s
why she served on half a dozen volunteer committees and was the first person
everyone called when someone was in need of a casserole. She just had a genetic
disposition to help, and people knew it.
“Any word on Trevor?” she asked.
Detective Cunningham shook his head. “We’ve issued an Amber
Alert and there is a separate team working on his disappearance. What we
need from you is help figuring out who Anne Lemmon is and who could have done
this.”
Sadie nodded. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“Did Anne have a phone? We haven’t found one in the house.”
“Yes,” Sadie said. “But only a cell phone. I told her she
should get a landline, but she didn’t seem to understand how important it is to
be listed in the phone book and she didn’t want to pay two phone bills.” She
shrugged. “Her cell was small and silver. She took it everywhere with her. Why?”
“We’d like to check it for personal numbers and things,”
Detective Cunningham said.
“Oh,” Sadie said. That made sense.
He looked back at his notebook, then met her eyes again. He had
hazel eyes with dark lashes—the kind of lashes women would kill
for. “Do you know where Anne kept her personal papers, bills, documents?” he
asked. “We’re still waiting for the crime scene unit to arrive but upon our
initial inspection we’ve found almost nothing of that sort in the house.”
“Well, she kept almost everything in the filing cabinet next to
her bed. I’ve been there when she’s opened her mail and she puts it all right
into the appropriate files. She mentioned that she used to work as a
receptionist and she liked organizing things like the office—everything
in its place.”
“By the bed,” he muttered, writing it down.
“I was wondering,” Sadie said. Cunningham looked up from his
notes. “About the purse in the field. Trevor’s shoes were in the house, and
Anne was in quite a state of . . . disarray, and yet it looks as if
she’d taken her purse outside with her.”
“And this strikes you as odd?”
Sadie nodded. “Yes, it does. I wonder if perhaps someone took
Trevor and she was going after them. It’s the only scenario I can think of that
would excuse her forgetting his shoes.”
“It is something to consider,” Cunningham said. “But that would
mean someone attacked her after she left the house and then killed her in the
field.”
“Well, of course,” Sadie said, nodding, but her thoughts were
still spinning. “But that would be rather risky, wouldn’t it? Killing her
outside when she has neighbors.”
Cunningham nodded, still watching her carefully.
“You think someone moved the body?” Sadie asked, her heart
racing again. For some reason the possibility made it all the more sinister.
“And then . . . the purse would be there as a decoy.” The thought
gave her chills. “So calculated,” she said under her breath.
He held her eyes for another moment and then wrote some more
before closing his notebook. “It’s not typical for us to bring people into a
crime scene, but if you don’t mind, I’d like you to come inside and verify some
things I believe have been altered inside Ms. Lemmon’s house.”
Sadie hesitated. She didn’t want to appear too eager, but she
wanted to help in any way she could and she
knew she had nothing to hide. The trick was to convince the detective of that.
Helping him would not only make her
applesauce. “Ron said that, not me,” she said sadly, hating to relive those
moments again.
“So you are comfortable with continued questions?”
Sadie just shrugged and looked at a crack in the sidewalk at
her feet.
“Is that a yes?” Detective Cunningham asked. “It would be very
helpful if you would continue answering questions for us. You knew Ms. Lemmon
and so far you’re the only person with any intimate knowledge of her life. We
would appreciate your assistance.”
Sadie had always been a sucker for people needing her help—it’s
why she served on half a dozen volunteer committees and was the first person
everyone called when someone was in need of a casserole. She just had a genetic
disposition to help, and people knew it.
“Any word on Trevor?” she asked.
Detective Cunningham shook his head. “We’ve issued an Amber
Alert and there is a separate team working on his disappearance. What we
need from you is help figuring out who Anne Lemmon is and who could have done
this.”
Sadie nodded. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“Did Anne have a phone? We haven’t found one in the house.”
“Yes,” Sadie said. “But only a cell phone. I told her she
should get a landline, but she didn’t seem to understand how important it is to
be listed in the phone book and she didn’t want to pay two phone bills.” She
shrugged. “Her cell was small and silver. She took it everywhere with her. Why?”
“We’d like to check it for personal numbers and things,”
Detective Cunningham said.
“Oh,” Sadie said. That made sense.
He looked back at his notebook, then met her eyes again. He had
hazel eyes with dark lashes—the kind of lashes women would kill
for. “Do you know where Anne kept her personal papers, bills, documents?” he
asked. “We’re still waiting for the crime scene unit to arrive but upon our
initial inspection we’ve found almost nothing of that sort in the house.”
“Well, she kept almost everything in the filing cabinet next to
her bed. I’ve been there when she’s opened her mail and she puts it all right
into the appropriate files. She mentioned that she used to work as a
receptionist and she liked organizing things like the office—everything
in its place.”
“By the bed,” he muttered, writing it down.
“I was wondering,” Sadie said. Cunningham looked up from his
notes. “About the purse in the field. Trevor’s shoes were in the house, and
Anne was in quite a state of . . . disarray, and yet it looks as if
she’d taken her purse outside with her.”
“And this strikes you as odd?”
Sadie nodded. “Yes, it does. I wonder if perhaps someone took
Trevor and she was going after them. It’s the only scenario I can think of that
would excuse her forgetting his shoes.”
“It is something to consider,” Cunningham said. “But that would
mean someone attacked her after she left the house and then killed her in the
field.”
“Well, of course,” Sadie said, nodding, but her thoughts were
still spinning. “But that would be rather risky, wouldn’t it? Killing her
outside when she has neighbors.”
Cunningham nodded, still watching her carefully.
“You think someone moved the body?” Sadie asked, her heart
racing again. For some reason the possibility made it all the more sinister.
“And then . . . the purse would be there as a decoy.” The thought
gave her chills. “So calculated,” she said under her breath.
He held her eyes for another moment and then wrote some more
before closing his notebook. “It’s not typical for us to bring people into a
crime scene, but if you don’t mind, I’d like you to come inside and verify some
things I believe have been altered inside Ms. Lemmon’s house.”
Sadie hesitated. She didn’t want to appear too eager, but she
wanted to help in any way she could and she
knew she had nothing to hide. The trick was to convince the detective of that.
Helping him would not only make her
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