father. The carrier was empty. Kendall turned to see Brynn standing in the doorway behind her, the white cat cradled in her arms, purring loudly. “He was lonesome.”
Despite the dark glasses she wore, Kendall could see Brynn was barely out of her teens, if that. “No problem.”
“Morrie charges more rent for pets.”
Not my concern. A week and I’m out of here. “He’s not mine; I’m only going to be keeping him temporarily.”
“Are you taking him to the shelter? I’m sorry, I read your note.”
I don’t have time for this—the cat or this conversation . “I’m not sure yet.”
Brynn held the cat closer. “I’ll keep him.”
Glausson might take the cat, but somehow she didn’t see him as a cat person.
Before Kendall could respond, Brynn asked, “Did he belong to those people who were murdered?”
No reason to hide the obvious. “He did. I’m not sure yet if anyone from the family wants him. If you’re sure you want him, I could find out and let you know.” It was hard to judge the girl’s emotions behind the dark glasses, but Kendall thought her face brightened.
“Can he stay with me for now?”
Kendall would be happy to see the orphan get a good home, not to mention she wouldn’t have to be the ogre responsible for taking it to the shelter. “Uh—sure. That would be good, I’m not around very much.”
“All right, then.” Brynn picked up the bag of cat supplies and moved toward her door.
Odd little duck . Kendall put the carrier inside Brynn’s door. “Don’t forget this.”
She wanted to ask Brynn about the card they’d found at the Glausson house, find out if Brynn was Callandra, but it would have to wait.
________
Rachel Jennings’ house was in a neighborhood of single-family homes whose origin probably dated back to the ‘70s. Sided in a soft yellow, Jennings’ small bungalow had what looked like the tail end of a rummage sale going on in the detached garage. A sign, “Everything 50% off,” was posted in front of the door.
A tall, gray-haired man wearing a red and white Wisconsin Badgers sweatshirt stood at one of the tables, deep in conversation with a woman deliberating over the purchase of a set of dishes.
“Excuse me.” Kendall flashed her ID. “I’m Detective Halsrud. I’m looking for Rachel Jennings.”
“That’s my wife. She’s in the house.” He pointed to a side entry. “She’s pretty shaken up,” he warned.
In answer to Kendall’s knock, a blonde woman in jeans and a bright orange sweater came to the door. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her hair hastily tied back into a short ponytail. Kendall produced her ID and introduced herself.
Rachel Jennings opened the door. “Come in. I’ve been expecting someone from the police department. You’ll have to excuse the mess. There are some things you can’t give away.”
The kitchen, although clean, was stacked with boxes and every surface covered with family treasures. Rachel took Kendall into the living room, where they sat across from each other on matching, blue-plaid sofas.
“I know this may be difficult for you, Mrs. Jennings, but I have to talk to you about the Glaussons. Not many people seem to have known them very well.”
Rachel wiped her eyes. “That’s true. The family didn’t have time to socialize much, I suppose. Mrs. Glausson, Chelsea, was devoted to Evan. She rarely left him. And Dr. Glausson worked long hours at the hospital.”
“Do you know where the Glaussons were going yesterday, why a nanny was coming?”
“Priscilla Olson? She babysat occasionally, but she wasn’t a full-time nanny. Chelsea told me she got along beautifully with Evan. I believe they were going to Sienna’s cheerleading competition in Chippewa Falls.”
“Did Mrs. Glausson confide in you?”
“She seemed to enjoy having someone to talk to, so I stayed late when I could. I wouldn’t really say she confided in me.”
“Did she ever tell you anything indicating she might have reason
Despite the dark glasses she wore, Kendall could see Brynn was barely out of her teens, if that. “No problem.”
“Morrie charges more rent for pets.”
Not my concern. A week and I’m out of here. “He’s not mine; I’m only going to be keeping him temporarily.”
“Are you taking him to the shelter? I’m sorry, I read your note.”
I don’t have time for this—the cat or this conversation . “I’m not sure yet.”
Brynn held the cat closer. “I’ll keep him.”
Glausson might take the cat, but somehow she didn’t see him as a cat person.
Before Kendall could respond, Brynn asked, “Did he belong to those people who were murdered?”
No reason to hide the obvious. “He did. I’m not sure yet if anyone from the family wants him. If you’re sure you want him, I could find out and let you know.” It was hard to judge the girl’s emotions behind the dark glasses, but Kendall thought her face brightened.
“Can he stay with me for now?”
Kendall would be happy to see the orphan get a good home, not to mention she wouldn’t have to be the ogre responsible for taking it to the shelter. “Uh—sure. That would be good, I’m not around very much.”
“All right, then.” Brynn picked up the bag of cat supplies and moved toward her door.
Odd little duck . Kendall put the carrier inside Brynn’s door. “Don’t forget this.”
She wanted to ask Brynn about the card they’d found at the Glausson house, find out if Brynn was Callandra, but it would have to wait.
________
Rachel Jennings’ house was in a neighborhood of single-family homes whose origin probably dated back to the ‘70s. Sided in a soft yellow, Jennings’ small bungalow had what looked like the tail end of a rummage sale going on in the detached garage. A sign, “Everything 50% off,” was posted in front of the door.
A tall, gray-haired man wearing a red and white Wisconsin Badgers sweatshirt stood at one of the tables, deep in conversation with a woman deliberating over the purchase of a set of dishes.
“Excuse me.” Kendall flashed her ID. “I’m Detective Halsrud. I’m looking for Rachel Jennings.”
“That’s my wife. She’s in the house.” He pointed to a side entry. “She’s pretty shaken up,” he warned.
In answer to Kendall’s knock, a blonde woman in jeans and a bright orange sweater came to the door. Her eyes were rimmed with red and her hair hastily tied back into a short ponytail. Kendall produced her ID and introduced herself.
Rachel Jennings opened the door. “Come in. I’ve been expecting someone from the police department. You’ll have to excuse the mess. There are some things you can’t give away.”
The kitchen, although clean, was stacked with boxes and every surface covered with family treasures. Rachel took Kendall into the living room, where they sat across from each other on matching, blue-plaid sofas.
“I know this may be difficult for you, Mrs. Jennings, but I have to talk to you about the Glaussons. Not many people seem to have known them very well.”
Rachel wiped her eyes. “That’s true. The family didn’t have time to socialize much, I suppose. Mrs. Glausson, Chelsea, was devoted to Evan. She rarely left him. And Dr. Glausson worked long hours at the hospital.”
“Do you know where the Glaussons were going yesterday, why a nanny was coming?”
“Priscilla Olson? She babysat occasionally, but she wasn’t a full-time nanny. Chelsea told me she got along beautifully with Evan. I believe they were going to Sienna’s cheerleading competition in Chippewa Falls.”
“Did Mrs. Glausson confide in you?”
“She seemed to enjoy having someone to talk to, so I stayed late when I could. I wouldn’t really say she confided in me.”
“Did she ever tell you anything indicating she might have reason
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