by Sofie Kelly
“I only met her once,” I said. “Marcus and the others told me some stories about her, but that’s about it.” There was something about the slight frown on her face that made me curious about her question. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know if this matters and I’m not even sure it’s something I should pursue . . .”
“But . . .”
“I think Dani was gay.”
I set my own spoon down, hoping nothing in my expression gave me away. “Have you asked Marcus?”
She shook her head, making her dark curls bounce. “No. It’s none of my business unless it has something to do with her getting killed, and so far I haven’t found any evidence of that. I don’t want to air her personal life because if she was gay she kept that information pretty private. But we are running out of possibilities for what happened to her.”
I got up and started the coffee to buy myself a little time. “What makes you think you’re right?”
“She had a book of essays in her backpack written by women sharing their experiences coming out. It just made me wonder.” She suddenly stopped, closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “I have a book about decomposition in my backpack,” she said. “What does that say about me?”
“That you’re a good detective,” I said. I hesitated for a moment. “And you’re right about Dani.”
“How did you find out?”
I explained about my online research and Marcus’s confirmation, without saying anything about his and Dani’s so-called secret.
Hope crumbled a cracker into her bowl. “I think it’s sad that Dani felt she had to hide who she really was from everyone.”
I nodded. “Me too.” No matter how crazy my family may have made me over the years, I knew they loved me unconditionally. I couldn’t imagine how Dani had to have felt, thinking that she’d lose her grandmother’s love just by being honest.
“Do you know the woman’s name? The one you think might have been involved with her?”
“Tanith Jeffery.”
“I should get in touch with her.” I didn’t answer right away and Hope looked up from her soup. “You don’t think it’s good idea.”
I sighed. “It’s just . . . what would you say?”
“Well, I’m not going to say, ‘Hey, you think your friend was killed because she was gay?’ if that’s what you’re worried about, Kathleen.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.
Hope looked away, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know that’s not what you were thinking.”
“I wasn’t,” I said. “It just seems to me that this woman cared about Dani. I don’t want to see her get hurt for no good reason.”
Hope nodded. “I get that. I do. In police work we ask a lot of people a lot of questions and, yeah, sometimes those questions stir up some painful emotions. But sometimes they help us catch the bad guy, and for the people we talked to, that’s worth it.”
It took no time, using her cell phone, for Hope to find Tanith Jeffery’s number. “Okay, I’m going to put this on speaker so you can hear both sides of the conversation, but please stay quiet.” She glanced down at the cats. “You too.” Owen yawned and headed for the basement. Hercules sat up straighter, his green eyes on the phone in Hope’s hand. “We good?” she asked.
I nodded. Hercules murped softly.
Hope punched in the number and I pulled up both legs and hugged my knees. Tanith Jeffery had a voice that reminded me of singer Bonnie Raitt. Hope explained who she was and why she was calling.
“I’ve been debating whether or not I should call you,” Tanith said. “It wasn’t common knowledge but . . . Dani and I were a couple. I feel as though I’ve been doing my grieving in secret.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Hope said. “Is there anyone you can think of who might have wanted to hurt her?”
“I’ve been asking myself that question since she . . . since it happened. And I can’t think of anyone. Everyone liked her. I know people always say that when someone dies but it’s the truth.”
Hope and I exchanged a look. The pain in Tanith Jeffery’s voice was raw.
“Ms. Jeffery, are you familiar with Travis Rosen?” Hope asked.
“Dani’s college boyfriend, yes. He replaced the engineer who was helping with the field research on the project she was opposing. She’d been trying to find the right time to tell him about us. It was . . . it was hard for her. I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d know if she did.”
“I’m sorry,” Hope said. “I can’t answer that.”
I was impressed with her kindness. I could hear the empathy in her voice and I was sure Tanith Jeffery could as well.
“What about John Keller?” Hope asked.
“Yes,” Tanith said slowly.
I had my chin propped on my knees but I raised my eyes to Hope’s. Like me she’d heard the change in the other woman’s voice.
“How do you know him?”
“They work together.” She cleared her throat. “Worked, I mean.”
It was still there in her voice, a tiny bit of reticence.
“Ms. Jeffery, is there anything I should know about Mr. Keller?” Hope asked.
“They’d known each other since they were twelve or thirteen,” Tanith said.
Hope rubbed her shoulder with one hand. “Just for a minute, don’t think of me as a detective. Think of me as another woman. Is there something you’d want me to know about him?”
She exhaled slowly. “It’s really just a feeling.”
“So what’s the feeling?” Hope asked.
“I thought there was just something a little off about him. Dani didn’t agree with me, by the way.”
“Off how?”
Tanith sighed again. “It was just little things, really. For instance, they were in touch with each other a few times a year but he didn’t tell her he was applying for the foundation job until he got it. Why would someone do that? Why wouldn’t you mention you know someone at a place where you want to get hired?”
“Did he give any reason for that?”
“He said he didn’t want to take advantage of his friendship with Dani.”
Hope leaned forward and propped an elbow on the table. “Was there anything else?”
“He moved into her neighborhood. She said she’d see him at the grocery store, at the gym, getting coffee. He just seemed to be everywhere.”
I looked at Hope. Her mouth was pulled into a tight line. I wondered if she was thinking what I was thinking: that John’s behavior was more than odd. It sounded creepy.
“Detective Lind, do you think it’s possible that John Keller had anything to do with Dani’s death?” Tanith asked.
“I don’t know,” Hope said. “But I promise you I’m going to find out.” She gave the woman her cell number, urging her to call if she thought of anything. Then Hope ended the call and set the phone down on the table.
My stomach was churning. “He talks about her in the past tense,” I said slowly.
Hope gave her head a little shake as though I’d interrupted her train of thought. “What do you mean?”
“When Marcus or Travis talk about Dani they do the same thing as Tanith Jeffery just did. They talk about her in the present tense. Like she’s not gone.”
“That happens a lot.”
“Not when John’s talking about her.”
That got me her full attention. “Are you sure?”
I nodded.
Hope picked up her cup, realized it was empty and set it down again. I got up and got the coffeepot, pouring a refill for both of us.
“He has an alibi,” she said. “He was with Rebecca. I talked to her myself.”
I added cream and sugar to my cup. I wasn’t sure what to say. Hope was a
good detective. It didn’t feel right to pick up the phone and check with Rebecca. I glanced down at Hercules, who looked pointedly toward the backyard. I knew what his vote was.
“Go ahead,” Hope said.
I frowned at her over my coffee. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Call Rebecca.”
“I believe you,” I said.
She pulled a hand through her dark curls. “I appreciate that. Call her anyway. It’s better if you do it than if I do.”
“Murr,” Hercules said at my feet.
Hope smiled. “See? He agrees with me. Call Rebecca.”
I reached for my cell phone on the counter.
“I’ve been thinking about your mother’s journals,” I said when Rebecca answered.
“You’re thinking John might have missed something.”
“Something like that.”
“I’m sorry, dear,” she said. “But I think you’re grasping at straws. That young man was so excited to see those notebooks. He took them and went right back to his motel room. He couldn’t wait to start reading them.” She sighed. “I wish he’d been able to find something that helped in them.”
I put my free hand palm down on the table and swallowed before I spoke again. “John took your mother’s books back to the motel?”
“Yes, but he took very good care of them and he brought them all back.”
“That’s uh, that’s good,” I said.
“Do you want me to bring them over?” Rebecca asked.
Hope was watching me. I couldn’t read anything from her expression.
“No,” I said. “If John didn’t find anything, I don’t think I would.” I thanked her and hung up.
Hope put her head in her hands. “I didn’t ask the right question,” she said. “I asked her if Keller had come to her house to see her mother’s journals. I didn’t ask if he stayed.” She lifted her head and looked at me. “That was stupid.”
“You thought you had it covered.”
“But I didn’t,” she said.
“Where did he get the car?” I asked, dropping one leg and curling the other underneath me. Hercules saw that as a sign to jump up onto my lap.
Hope looked blankly at me. “What car?”
“Dani was hit by a car and then the killer put her body over the side of that embankment. Dani and the two men had two vehicles. On the day of the murder she had one and Travis had the other. Where did John get a vehicle if he ran her down?”
I felt as though my brain at the moment looked like the kids’ game Mouse Trap and all I needed to happen was for all the little pieces to fall into place so the trap would fall down on the killer. On John, because now I was certain that’s what he was. “You know that they had no permission to be on the actual property that was going to be part of the development other than that little piece Ruby owns?”
“Right.”
Hercules nuzzled my hand and I began to stroke his fur. His attention was still on Hope. “I think John was actually on the lakeside property. He alluded to having been there. It’s rough, hilly, boggy-in-places terrain. Could some kind of cut down Jeep or truck have caused the injuries that Dani had?”
“It’s possible,” Hope said. She rubbed at the creases in her forehead. “I’d have to see it to be sure. That still doesn’t answer the questions though; how did John get a vehicle?”
“The big red barn.”
“You mean Hollister’s? The place that sells the vegetables?” I could see the skepticism on her face. I would have felt the same way if not for the conversation I’d had with Maggie and Roma the night Maggie made pizza.
“They have a little under-the-table side business selling old vehicles for off-roading—I’m guessing they’re not licensed, either. I know John knows the place because he brought me a bag of apples from there as a thank-you for all my help.”
Hope got to her feet.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m going to drive out there and see what I can find.” She pulled her keys out of her pocket.
I stood up as well and set Hercules on the floor. “You’re not going to call Detective Foster?”
“And tell him what? John Keller has a hole in his alibi and we think he’s the killer because the victim’s girlfriend thought there was something off about him?”
“I’m going with you, then,” I said.
“You’re not a detective.”
“And you’re not on this case.”
We stared at each other for a moment. “We’re taking my car. It has four-wheel drive,” Hope finally said.
I grabbed a hoodie and my phone. Hercules followed us. I stopped in the porch and bent down to his level. “You can’t go with us. Stay here.” I wanted to say “No walking though the door” but with Hope standing there I couldn’t. He immediately looked at Hope.
She shrugged. “Does he get carsick?”
“No,” I said, “but on occasion he will try to give directions.”
“What the heck,” she said. “Let him come. Maybe he’ll bring us good luck.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded. “We’re just a couple of women driving around with our cat, looking for a little piece of land to buy to build a getaway, maybe plant some flowers, make a fire pit, explore the woods in some kind of off-road vehicle.”
I smiled at her. “You’re good.”
She smiled back. “I didn’t get the badge for sending in two box tops and answering a time-limited skill-testing question.”
14
The big red barn was up the road a little from Wisteria Hill. Unlike Roma’s place, which was set back from the road, the barn and the old farmhouse were easy to spot. The farm stand was out by the road with the barn off to the right and the old house on a slight slope of land to the left. Both the old house and the barn had a list to one side, as though they’d gotten tired of standing upright over the years.
Hope pulled in next to a couple of cars. “Look at the pumpkins, check out the squash and apples. Watch. Listen. That’s it.”
“Stay here, please,” I said to Hercules as we got out of the car.
There were a couple of ladder-back chairs by the end of the vegetable stand. Hope walked over to them and tipped her head on one side as though she was trying to picture them arranged somewhere. Gerald Hollister spied her and headed in her direction. I made my way over to the bushel baskets, arranged on a couple of long low tables. Two other women were checking out pumpkins. And I realized I knew the woman waiting on them. Her son was one of the new first-graders added to our Reading Buddies program.
I could get bits and pieces of Hope’s conversation with the old man, and she wasn’t getting anywhere. He offered the two chairs to her for way more than I knew they had to be worth. And when she mentioned she’d heard he might be able to help her with an off-road vehicle he told her flat out whoever had told her that was steering her wrong.
Hope took it all in stride, shrugging and saying it must have been someone else. She pointed at the old barn and asked if Hollister had any more chairs. He told her no—another lie, I was guessing.
Meanwhile the two women had found their pumpkin at last. Bella Lawrence—Lawrence because she wasn’t married to her boy’s father, the old man’s son—came up quietly behind me.
“Hello, Ms. Paulson,” she said in her soft voice. Then she pointed at a basket of apples. “Haralson are good if you looking to make pie,” she added in a slightly louder voice. “So are Honeycrisp.”
“What about these?” I asked, moving over to the end of the makeshift table as far away from Hope and the old man as I could get.
Bella shook her head. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a braid, and her face, devoid of any makeup, made her look like a teenager—too young to be the mother of a six-year-old. “Those are SnowSweet. G
ood for eating, not for pie.”
She lowered her voice again. “The old man is lying to your friend,” she said. “I know she’s a police officer. She talked to Duncan’s class when they toured the fire station.”
Neither one of us was any good at undercover work it seemed.
“Please don’t tell him,” I whispered.
She smiled. “What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him. Anyway, I owe you. You should hear Duncan read now that he’s in your Reading Buddies. He isn’t going to be stuck here, that’s for sure.”
I picked an apple from the top of one of the baskets and pretended to be considering it just in case the old man was looking our way. “So he does have some off-road vehicles?” I said.
“A truck and an old Jeep.”
“Has anyone used either one of them lately?”
Bella picked up the basket of apples directly in front of me. “Good choice,” she said. She led me around behind the mound of pumpkins. “You know that thing planned for the lake? The resort?”
I nodded. “He doesn’t want it to happen. He figures the county’ll make him fix this place up and come after him for tax on all the stuff he’s selling. This guy came looking for something off-road.” Her eyes met mine. “I listen because it’s good to know things. He said he could stop the development from happening but he didn’t want anyone to know he’s been over on that land.”
I described John.
“That’s him,” she said. She took a pumpkin from the pile. “Is that everything?” she asked.
“It is,” I said. “Thank you.”
Bella dumped the apples into a paper bag and I paid her for everything. As she handed the bag of apples to me she bent her head close to mine. “If you want to look at that Jeep it’s parked in a lean-to out to the back of here. Head that way.” She pointed down the road. “Watch for a peeling green post and some yellow tape around a tree. That’s the road you want.” She straightened up and gave me a practiced smile. “Thanks for coming. Stop by again.”
I set the apples and the pumpkin on the backseat. Hercules immediately stuck his nose in the bag.
Hope slid behind the wheel with a fake smile plastered on her face.