We hustled across the street that seemed to have more and more cars and trucks breaking the speed limit in our once-quiet neighborhood.
I knocked on Fred’s door twice, then tried the knob. It turned, and I cracked an opening. “Fred,” I called. “Fred?” The rich smells of an Italian sauce told me where he was.
He stood at the stove, slowly moving a wooden spoon in his concoction.
“Fred,” I said.
He looked up and smiled. “Didn’t hear you. Is that Marley behind you?”
She stepped around me and walked to him and caught him in a bear hug. “I’m so sorry about Edgy,” she murmured.
He stepped back. “How so?”
Surely he understood Edgy was gone. Before I could say a word, he turned his back on us and stirred his pot of garlic and tomatoes laced with oregano and wine. He mumbled over his shoulder. “She’s where she needs to be. The haunting is finally over.” He sighed. “I’ll miss my girl, though.”
My heart hurt for him. “I will, too.”
He didn’t look at me, just kept stirring the sauce.
To keep him from asking us to leave, I said, “I got a phone call to be at the Justice Center to make a statement. I’ll stop by later.”
“I’m leaving as soon as I get this damned sauce done.”
“Where are you headed?”
He looked back at me. “Don’t know yet, just going. Take care of yourself, Corinne.”
“I understand you need to get away. I wanted to disappear when Mel died.”
“I’ll be back to bury her. Don’t know how long it will be before they release her body.”
I said no more and ushered Marley out with me.
The brick and mortar county courthouse, considered an architectural gem by valley residents, drew my eyes each time I drove the traffic circle around it. Even today, as we entered the first arc of the curved road, I studied its clock tower and spires. A memory flashed back forty-six years to Mel and me climbing the steep stairs and approaching the counter of the clerk and recorder to apply for our marriage license. We had been so nervous and elated.
My reminiscing was swept away as Marley rounded the half-circle and passed in front of the large, concrete-block Justice Center. We turned right and entered the crowded parking area.
A clammy dread crawled up my spine as Marley searched for an open space wide enough for her Jeep. Talking to a detective ranked harder than facing a line of bishops. Deadly sins might be easier than what I feared. Coping with an investigator who certainly would consider me a person of interest in the death of my best friend frightened me more than I knew how to communicate. I could never put into words just how nervous I was.
Marley finally found a spot that suited her and parked. She looked at me. “Mom, you’re jumpy as hell, but that gives you an edge. You’ll be sharp and wary. Just tell the detective what you saw.” She removed the car keys. The jangle of her messy, overloaded keychain reminded me of the clicking locks during my college years when I worked for the Gallatin County jail. I exhaled, squared my shoulders, and followed her, pretending she was the lawyer I should have brought with me. She could have been one as she marched straight to the window and told the woman behind the glass we were here at Detective Langnecker’s invitation. Her words, not mine.
We were told he would be right with us.
I rubbed the twitchy muscles in my right shoulder, my skin sensitive through the jacket. My hair had probably fallen and was hanging around my ears. I shouldn’t care if I drooped a little, but I did.
“Mom put your hands in your pockets,” Marley whispered. “It won’t be long.”
I hissed back, “I could’ve done without the drama of waiting.”
Marley’s look scorched my comment.
A man approached down the hallway. He walked with casual assurance, the kind of guy who drew attention when he entered any room. He was fairly tall, with squared shoulders and a shaved head, and was somewhere between his mid to late forties. I was about to meet Detective Bruce Langnecker.
I returned his smile. A pair of attentive hazel eyes behind stylish glasses spoke of kindness inside a tough, manly exterior. His clean-cut, healthy look seemed the polar opposite of the gimpy, worn-out sheriff. I relaxed somewhat as he introduced himself.
Marley held her hand out for him to shake. “I am her daughter, Marley Higgins.”
He gripped her hand for a moment and then guided us down the wide hall to a room with people sitting at computers.
“Ms. Higgins,” he said and indicated a chair beside a desk. “Please wait here while I speak with your mother.”
Marley sat down without a word.
He led me into a small, windowed room.
The first thing I noticed as we sat at the table was a camera on the wall. What I said would be recorded. I accepted that as positive. What I was asked and how I answered could not be misconstrued. I calmed a little more and straightened. They would also video my demeanor, and I’d better be sharp, even if it was hard not to be intimidated sitting in an interrogation room with a homicide detective.
Detective Langnecker spoke in an easy tone—just gathering facts. “Tell me, was there a special reason why Mrs. Brewster and you went to Millie’s last night?”
“Edwina wanted to go and play bingo.” It was the simple answer and an honest one.
“Why did she want to?”
That was harder. “She was restless, needing something to fill time.”
“Why fill time? Was she unhappy?”
“Not really. She just was searching for ways to make sense of life. It happens as we age.” I noticed a prick of interest. The detective didn’t sit up like a watchdog, but something changed.
“What in Mrs. Brewster’s life didn’t make sense?”
He tried to lead me to share what I knew of her past, and I knew better than to expose her secrets. Fred had to do that. He could tell the authorities about her lost child and her anguish over the death of her nephew in a car accident far better than I could. And I wouldn’t break my promise to Edgy.
“Edwina, who I call Edgy, was my friend and neighbor for years. We were just comfortable with each other. She tried to help fill my loneliness as a widow with fun things to do. It gave her a mission in life and also gave Fred a chance to have their home to himself for a few hours now and then. Hard to be a retired man.”
“Did you and Edgy have a disagreement?”
I didn’t like the question, but I answered, “Not really, but she seemed out of sorts.”
“What about?”
“Not sure. She’s been depressed lately. I thought the evening out might help, and Dean wanted to meet us there.” Why did I say that? I could’ve bitten my tongue.
“Dean who?”
“A friend of mine.”
“How did you scrape your hand and arm?”
He thinks Edgy and I had a fight. The thought hit me like a slap in the face, waking me up to the fact that I actually was a suspect. “When I saw her at the bottom of that steep hill, I ran down it to her. I fell a couple of times.” I detected doubt in his eyes. I jerked my right hand up shoulder high, palm out. “Honest to God, I never pushed her and have no idea who did. How can I make you believe me?”
The detective studied me as if to read my mind. And, for once, I remained unruffled while silently being accused by searching eyes. I never was unruffled with Mel—his silent questions follow me still.
Langnecker leaned back in his chair, his fingers fidgeting on the leather armrests, then he cleared his throat. “Let’s call it good for now. We’ll need to finish your interview after the results from the crime lab come in.”
The door opened before he reached for the doorknob. A familiar-looking man walked inside. He was medium height, fleshy, with bags under his eyes. His bulbous nose crisscrossed with veins appeared dark. In that moment, I recognized him. Detective Theo Wood, the man who had caused Mel so much aggravation and wrath.
He ignored Langnecker and zero
ed in on me. “Mrs. Cooper, I just read the Sheriff’s report on Edwina Brewster, and I have a few questions.” He still had not acknowledged the other detective and acted like he didn’t intend to. He leaned against the doorjamb, blocking us in. His expression held a touch of pleasure. Mine did not.
Cornered by him, I sat stoically, returning his stare and showing him a calm demeanor. “I’m surprised you’re not retired by now.”
“Mrs. Cooper,” he said. “What happened last night?”
I cleared my throat. “A friend and I went to play bingo. At break time, she went out for a cigarette and didn’t come back. I went to look for her and found her at the bottom of the hill.” I’d tell him only facts. Nothing more. I had learned years ago anything I said he would misconstrue into something damning.
His serious expression deepened. “Was this Dean you mentioned there?”
My skin tightened. He’d been listening as Langnecker and I talked. “Never showed up.”
“His last name?”
“Dean Hyatt.”
Wood studied me like I was the one who had killed Edgy. He finally said, “Why was he meeting you?”
“He wanted to talk to Edwina.”
“About?”
“Fred can tell you better than I can.”
“Fred is?”
“Edgy’s husband. I gave the information to the sheriff last night. I’m sure you have seen it.”
“How’s the relationship between them?”
“I’d say loving and good.”
“How did she get those stitches in her head?”
“Hit by a pool ball at the Blue Moon.”
“Why were you at the tavern?”
I wasn’t answering that. No way. “We were out having a good time.” I clenched my thumb in my opposite palm, digging the nail in a little to keep me sharp. He would not find out about my wanting a man or Edgy’s secret past.
Wood leaned toward me. “Did your hands get injured when you struggled with Mrs. Brewster?”
“I have told Detective Langnecker what happened, and it’s been recorded.” I glanced at the door, wanting to leave more than I had ever wanted anything.
Wood wasn’t done. “Is the crime lab going to find your DNA under Mrs. Brewster’s fingernails?”
Wood then shot me the question I was prepared for. “Did you kill Edwina Brewster?”
“I did not,” I said to Detective Langnecker as though Wood didn’t exist. I rose and got the nod to leave.
Just before the door closed behind me, I overheard Theo Wood spout off, “That woman is guilty as hell.”
Chapter 11
M arley took one look at me and clamped her mouth shut as I hurried down the hallway from the interrogation room. She walked beside me until we got to her Jeep and then drove in silence as if serious talk could only happen in the safety of her childhood home.
After the front door closed behind her, she eyeballed me and said, “Tell me everything the detective asked you.”
“Verbatim? I don’t think I can.” I sounded crankier than I intended to.
“You can be so frustrating.”
“Maybe because I’m at my wits end after Theo Wood’s harassment. He rapid-fired questions about Edgy and why we were at Millie’s. He did everything but actually accuse me of murder. I told the detectives all I know, except about her daughter. Fred needs to tell them that.”
“Should we get a lawyer?” Marley’s words came hushed and worried.
I threw my purse on the couch and plopped down. “I don’t know, yet. But Theo Wood is interested in only one thing . . . making a Cooper suffer.”
Marley widened her eyes. “Who is he?”
“He was the detective who helped the fire marshal investigate the cause of our warehouse fire.”
“You are not making sense.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know I’m ranting.”
Marley perched on the arm of the couch. “Please tell me.”
I had just endured a tough question-and-answer session, but Marley had suffered, too. Waiting while your mother was interrogated about the death of her best friend had to be awful. “You’re right about a lawyer, and I’ll contact one. But I need to tell you some things first. Do you remember anything about when the warehouse burned?”
“I was away at college, and you didn’t tell me much about it, but I knew Dad was really upset. Cooper Lumber was his whole life. And Grandpa’s, too.”
“We didn’t want you to worry. Nursing school was tough enough.”
“I understand the loss of the building was hard on Dad, but it was just the one at the back of the property. No one had been in danger. Cripes, Patrick and I used to play in it with our friends.”
“The loss of the building was not the problem. The business could survive that. The devastation came from what Detective Theo Wood did to Grandpa Cooper. He arrested him for setting the warehouse on fire for the insurance money. Accused him of fraud.”
“You never told me.”
“We saw no reason to worry you kids about it. You both had enough on your plates with school. The fire marshal eventually concluded the fire had been set by vagrants, and the charge was dropped. But Grandpa suffered a lot from embarrassment and loss of customers. He died of a heart attack about a year later.” Once again, I didn’t tell Marley the harsh details of what her father and grandfather had gone through. Some things the kids just didn’t need to know.
“And this same detective is working on Edgy’s case?”
I shook my head. “No, Detective Langnecker is, but Theo Wood burst into the room and started asking me questions like I had fought with Edgy and pushed her down the hill.”
Marley spluttered, “What the heck? What did Langnecker do?”
“Nothing, really. I think they were playing good cop/bad cop.”
“We have to get a lawyer.”
“I will, but I have time. So far, I’m just the person who called nine-one-one and the last one she was with before . . .” My words trailed off.
Marley shook her head. “Mom, someone has to tell us what to expect and how to prepare.” She stopped talking with an abrupt look of surprise. “I sound just like Dad. He always made a plan.”
My precious girl was only trying to protect me, but I needed to be alone and do my own thinking. “I’m going to work on the roses for a bit. Would you call your brother and let him know what happened?”
Marley shook her head. “No way. He’ll just want to talk to you.”
I retrieved my cell from the depths of my purse and called Patrick. His phone went straight to voicemail. I raised my brows and shook my head. “Why is your phone always turned off? This is important. Call me.”
Marley flounced around, arms wide like she’d like to hit something. “It’s just like him. He’s never been there for you.”
“Will you stop overreacting? He has no idea what happened. I’ll tell him as soon as he calls.” I had snapped at my daughter and didn’t like it. She was too old for correction, and I was too old to cave in to anger and dish it out.
She held up her hands up like a traffic cop. “I might as well get a run in while you’re busy in the backyard.” She stomped up the stairs, several risers creaking under her effort to show displeasure.
I rubbed my temples, fighting off a headache, before putting on a straw sun hat and grabbing leather gloves.
Once again, I turned on the sprinklers to soak the hydrangeas along the potting shed’s west wall. I retrieved the small pruning shears from inside the door to remove dead rose blossoms. The Bride’s Dream was blooming in full glory under the bright July sun. The large shell-pink blossoms were fragrant with the essence of rose oil in the sunny heat. The hot rays melted me, but the rose bushes thrived in the heat.
My thoughts wandered back to the night before. How on God’s green earth did Edgy topple down a hill and break her neck? What hit her to cause a gash on her head? Who hit her? How did she get the bruises on her upper arms? I couldn’t
recall seeing any contusions, although her fair skin was easily bruised. She had told me she inherited her pale hide from ancient Vikings. They sailed into the harbors along the Northumberland coast, stole what they wanted, and left babies growing inside ravished maidens. Edgy had always been proud of her fair complexion and tall, robust figure. It was just lately that she’d become a sunflower wilting under the pressures of life.
Alone among the flowers, I let my grief free to truly mourn her death. Tears didn’t form, but my soul wept as I snipped faded blossoms. Edgy’s life had also been clipped, but she had no chance to wither and lose her petals. Maybe, just maybe, that was a blessing. She had never wanted to wrinkle or get pudgy.
My lower back ached from bending over, and I settled on the bench for a quick break. I closed my drowsy eyes for a moment, and the years reeled backward to the last time Mel and I had shared the bench, enjoying a glass of sweet red cabernet while trying to calm down. It was the day after we had buried his father, and we were trying to make sense of what had happened.
The fire that burned the warehouse had also laid bare secrets I’d never wanted to acknowledge. Sitting here alone, I remembered so clearly how Mel had spoken with anger, his backbone and face stiff with the refusal to forgive. He had been my handsome man, but in anger he appeared forbidding and mean. I hated the look and the attitude that seemed to change his personality.
With that hard look about him, Mel had then told me the truth of the story. “Theo Wood’s hatred for us Coopers started when his grandmother had an affair with our grandpa.”
“Are you sure?”
Mel had growled back, “Yes, Earl Cooper, grandpa to our kids, and Virgie Wood, grandma to Theo, were low-down, immoral cheaters. The grandmas and grandpas of the Coopers and the Woods went to war over who betrayed who. The Wood family split apart under what they considered a shame on their families.”
“Mel, you’re making it sound worse than it was,” I had said to him, trying to help him deal with the pain.
He had ignored me and said, “I am not. Bad stock was the opinion passed around about them. The bulk of the shame rested in Virgie. She was treated as a pariah, and you know it.”
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