sixty, the other in her forties.
“Do you ladies live around here?” he asked.
“About half a mile up the road,” one of them said. “We’re cross-the-street neighbors from each other.”
“Did you know Annalee?”
The older woman squinted at him in the end-of-day sunlight. “Who are you?”
“I’m an investigator,” he said, deliberately leaving off the word “private.”
Probably assuming he was one of the police detectives, the younger woman said, “Oh yeah, we knew her. She came to neighborhood association meetings. Is it true she was shot?”
Michael evaded the question. “Did either of you happen to see anyone in a white pickup truck on the street today?”
The younger one shook her head. “I just got home a little while ago. I’ve been working all day.”
He turned to the older one. “And you, ma’am?”
“No, I’ve been inside all day. I didn’t see or hear anybody. Is that who did it? Somebody in a white pickup?”
“We don’t know yet. I’m just checking out everything. Do you know of anyone in the area who might have had a birthday party today? For children, I mean?”
They looked at each other like they couldn’t figure out the question. “I don’t know anybody,” the younger one said.
“No, it’s Monday. People usually have parties on weekends.”
He considered how to phrase the question. “So … have you seen anyone around in a costume?”
The older woman’s eyebrows popped up. “You mean a clown costume?”
Hope bloomed. “Yes.”
“No, but one of the other police officers asked us that a little while ago.” She brought her hand to her throat. “Is somebody in a clown costume breaking into houses out here?”
Disappointment deflated him. “We’re not sure, but you should be diligent to lock your doors. Arm your alarm systems. Stay alert when you come and go.”
“They need to be looking at that husband of hers,” the younger one said again. “She said he was abusive, and he would do anything to get that boy. She said he was fighting her tooth and nail. If you’re looking for a clown suit, I’d start by looking in his closet.”
He didn’t bother to tell them he’d just been in Jay’s closet and there was nothing of the kind.
Suddenly feeling weary, he decided to head back to the police station and give Cathy the emails, pictures, and names of the women who’d rented clown suits. Maybe Jay had made a mistake about the color. But if the suit wasyellow, he probably would have noticed blood splatters. Or would he miss that among all the polka dots?
Whatever the case, Cathy should at least show Jay these pictures. Michael wished he could help her more.
C HAPTER 12
J uliet saw Jackson’s excitement when she picked him up from day care. He loved coming to her house because she had a swimming pool and kept popsicles in her freezer. Juliet tried hard to evade questions about when Mommy would come to pick him up, and chattered instead about the dog Jackson loved who couldn’t wait to play with him.
Holly sat in Juliet’s passenger seat, blotting tears from her eyes. Though Juliet was used to her depressed sister falling apart at the drop of a hat, she didn’t have much patience for it today. She turned the rear speakers up so Jackson could sing along with Cookie Monster, then poked her sister.
“Stop that right now,” she said in a low voice. “You’re going to get him upset.”
Holly didn’t answer, just compressed her lips and tried to hold back her tears. “Sorry.”
“I know it’s hard, but pull yourself together. For him, if not for me.”
She knew what Holly was thinking. Her sister, who was especially sensitive, was imagining some violent clown breaking into Annalee’s house, walking her to the bathtub, and shooting her through the heart.
She was taking inventory of all the horrible things that had happened to their brother in the last year. She was thinking how unfair life was. How unfair God was.
But those thoughts
“Do you ladies live around here?” he asked.
“About half a mile up the road,” one of them said. “We’re cross-the-street neighbors from each other.”
“Did you know Annalee?”
The older woman squinted at him in the end-of-day sunlight. “Who are you?”
“I’m an investigator,” he said, deliberately leaving off the word “private.”
Probably assuming he was one of the police detectives, the younger woman said, “Oh yeah, we knew her. She came to neighborhood association meetings. Is it true she was shot?”
Michael evaded the question. “Did either of you happen to see anyone in a white pickup truck on the street today?”
The younger one shook her head. “I just got home a little while ago. I’ve been working all day.”
He turned to the older one. “And you, ma’am?”
“No, I’ve been inside all day. I didn’t see or hear anybody. Is that who did it? Somebody in a white pickup?”
“We don’t know yet. I’m just checking out everything. Do you know of anyone in the area who might have had a birthday party today? For children, I mean?”
They looked at each other like they couldn’t figure out the question. “I don’t know anybody,” the younger one said.
“No, it’s Monday. People usually have parties on weekends.”
He considered how to phrase the question. “So … have you seen anyone around in a costume?”
The older woman’s eyebrows popped up. “You mean a clown costume?”
Hope bloomed. “Yes.”
“No, but one of the other police officers asked us that a little while ago.” She brought her hand to her throat. “Is somebody in a clown costume breaking into houses out here?”
Disappointment deflated him. “We’re not sure, but you should be diligent to lock your doors. Arm your alarm systems. Stay alert when you come and go.”
“They need to be looking at that husband of hers,” the younger one said again. “She said he was abusive, and he would do anything to get that boy. She said he was fighting her tooth and nail. If you’re looking for a clown suit, I’d start by looking in his closet.”
He didn’t bother to tell them he’d just been in Jay’s closet and there was nothing of the kind.
Suddenly feeling weary, he decided to head back to the police station and give Cathy the emails, pictures, and names of the women who’d rented clown suits. Maybe Jay had made a mistake about the color. But if the suit wasyellow, he probably would have noticed blood splatters. Or would he miss that among all the polka dots?
Whatever the case, Cathy should at least show Jay these pictures. Michael wished he could help her more.
C HAPTER 12
J uliet saw Jackson’s excitement when she picked him up from day care. He loved coming to her house because she had a swimming pool and kept popsicles in her freezer. Juliet tried hard to evade questions about when Mommy would come to pick him up, and chattered instead about the dog Jackson loved who couldn’t wait to play with him.
Holly sat in Juliet’s passenger seat, blotting tears from her eyes. Though Juliet was used to her depressed sister falling apart at the drop of a hat, she didn’t have much patience for it today. She turned the rear speakers up so Jackson could sing along with Cookie Monster, then poked her sister.
“Stop that right now,” she said in a low voice. “You’re going to get him upset.”
Holly didn’t answer, just compressed her lips and tried to hold back her tears. “Sorry.”
“I know it’s hard, but pull yourself together. For him, if not for me.”
She knew what Holly was thinking. Her sister, who was especially sensitive, was imagining some violent clown breaking into Annalee’s house, walking her to the bathtub, and shooting her through the heart.
She was taking inventory of all the horrible things that had happened to their brother in the last year. She was thinking how unfair life was. How unfair God was.
But those thoughts
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