feel better, but it would also show him she
was not an enemy. She wished he wouldn’t talk so cryptically though.
After a few moments, Sadie nodded, hoping the hesitation would
keep her from looking too anxious. All through school she’d been accused of
being a teacher’s pet, a people pleaser who was always trying to get into her
superiors’ good graces. She hadn’t done that at all; she just liked to do well
at things and if it made people happy in the process, well, that wasn’t such a
bad thing.
Detective Cunningham smiled and it made her feel better.
“Aren’t there supposed to be a lot more people here?” she asked
as they approached the house. On TV there were always all kinds of cars,
bystanders, people running around, women crying.
“We’re not a large jurisdiction,” Detective Cunningham said as
he nodded at the two officers by the front steps. Sadie was half a step behind
him. “We have a couple crime scene officers on their way and the coroner has
been called, but they’re all coming from Fort Collins so it will be a while.
When we enter the house, please clasp your hands behind your back and don’t
touch anything.”
Sadie nodded and did as she was told, holding her hands tightly
together and hoping she didn’t touch anything on accident. Entering the house,
she thought it looked the same as it had this morning. Sadie took a deep
breath; she could still smell the lemon tart.
“I’d like to start downstairs,” he said without looking at
her.
She followed Detective Cunningham to the top of the stairs just
off the kitchen that led to the basement. Sadie’s skin bristled as she thought
of Anne being killed in this house, and then someone moving her dead body
outside. Sadie blinked back more tears and tried to keep her emotions in
check.
When they reached the basement, Detective Cunningham motioned
for Sadie to stand next to him in the doorway of the family room. She stepped
closer to him, their shoulders nearly touching. The room was long and narrow,
with a TV and a couch at one end, and a washer and dryer at the other. The area
around the washer and dryer had been tiled, whereas
the rest of the room was carpeted. On the wall across from the doorway where
they stood was a large window, allowing
the room to be fairly light, despite it being a basement.
“The curtains aren’t right,” Sadie said immediately, scanning
the panels of fabric while searching her mind for what was wrong. When she
realized what it was, she felt a rush of excitement. “She always tied the
curtain panels to one side, making a big swag.” But now, instead of the swag,
the panels were separated and pulled to their respective sides. It looked
perfectly ordinary, but it wasn’t the way Anne had kept them. Sadie wondered
what the implications of such a detail might mean.
“When was the last time you saw the curtains tied that way?”
Sadie searched her memory. “About two weeks ago,” she said, her
eyes scanning the room and resting on a framed print above the TV. Her hands
slipped apart and she quickly clasped them behind her back again, fearful she
would mess something up. “I gave Anne that print.” She nodded toward it, afraid
to point. “I found it at a discount store and thought the colors would be good
for this room. I helped her hang it up.”
“Would she have changed it between then and now—the
curtains I mean?”
“Possibly. I always made certain she didn’t feel some
obligation to do things my way, but she had seemed to like the curtains with
the one swag. I even sewed the tieback for her because she couldn’t find one in
the stores that matched.” She couldn’t believe that just hours after Anne had
turned up dead, she was discussing curtain arrangements with a detective.
“Describe the tieback,” he said, pulling out his notebook.
“Well, it was about three feet long, made out of a
floral-patterned, cotton-poly blend. It was just a long
rectangle—like the belt of a
was not an enemy. She wished he wouldn’t talk so cryptically though.
After a few moments, Sadie nodded, hoping the hesitation would
keep her from looking too anxious. All through school she’d been accused of
being a teacher’s pet, a people pleaser who was always trying to get into her
superiors’ good graces. She hadn’t done that at all; she just liked to do well
at things and if it made people happy in the process, well, that wasn’t such a
bad thing.
Detective Cunningham smiled and it made her feel better.
“Aren’t there supposed to be a lot more people here?” she asked
as they approached the house. On TV there were always all kinds of cars,
bystanders, people running around, women crying.
“We’re not a large jurisdiction,” Detective Cunningham said as
he nodded at the two officers by the front steps. Sadie was half a step behind
him. “We have a couple crime scene officers on their way and the coroner has
been called, but they’re all coming from Fort Collins so it will be a while.
When we enter the house, please clasp your hands behind your back and don’t
touch anything.”
Sadie nodded and did as she was told, holding her hands tightly
together and hoping she didn’t touch anything on accident. Entering the house,
she thought it looked the same as it had this morning. Sadie took a deep
breath; she could still smell the lemon tart.
“I’d like to start downstairs,” he said without looking at
her.
She followed Detective Cunningham to the top of the stairs just
off the kitchen that led to the basement. Sadie’s skin bristled as she thought
of Anne being killed in this house, and then someone moving her dead body
outside. Sadie blinked back more tears and tried to keep her emotions in
check.
When they reached the basement, Detective Cunningham motioned
for Sadie to stand next to him in the doorway of the family room. She stepped
closer to him, their shoulders nearly touching. The room was long and narrow,
with a TV and a couch at one end, and a washer and dryer at the other. The area
around the washer and dryer had been tiled, whereas
the rest of the room was carpeted. On the wall across from the doorway where
they stood was a large window, allowing
the room to be fairly light, despite it being a basement.
“The curtains aren’t right,” Sadie said immediately, scanning
the panels of fabric while searching her mind for what was wrong. When she
realized what it was, she felt a rush of excitement. “She always tied the
curtain panels to one side, making a big swag.” But now, instead of the swag,
the panels were separated and pulled to their respective sides. It looked
perfectly ordinary, but it wasn’t the way Anne had kept them. Sadie wondered
what the implications of such a detail might mean.
“When was the last time you saw the curtains tied that way?”
Sadie searched her memory. “About two weeks ago,” she said, her
eyes scanning the room and resting on a framed print above the TV. Her hands
slipped apart and she quickly clasped them behind her back again, fearful she
would mess something up. “I gave Anne that print.” She nodded toward it, afraid
to point. “I found it at a discount store and thought the colors would be good
for this room. I helped her hang it up.”
“Would she have changed it between then and now—the
curtains I mean?”
“Possibly. I always made certain she didn’t feel some
obligation to do things my way, but she had seemed to like the curtains with
the one swag. I even sewed the tieback for her because she couldn’t find one in
the stores that matched.” She couldn’t believe that just hours after Anne had
turned up dead, she was discussing curtain arrangements with a detective.
“Describe the tieback,” he said, pulling out his notebook.
“Well, it was about three feet long, made out of a
floral-patterned, cotton-poly blend. It was just a long
rectangle—like the belt of a
Similar Books
