“Handy for Dave, when he ended up there. They must have kept in touch. Dave gave him the key to his post office box for Pete to take him mail in prison.”
“Yeah, you told me.” Ketcham sighed.
“So what else do you know?”
“Not much. No physical evidence that wasn’t obvious. The rest of the calls he made besides the one to his buddies in Pontiac all make sense in the light of the timber he’d planned to sell.” “Yeah.”
“He was always a ladies’ man, but we didn’t find any evidence of a wife or even a long-term partner. One of the people he pulled a scam on was expecting him to marry her and take her away to a life of leisure, but that comes under the category of business, I’m afraid. She was still mad enough to be worth a little more checking, and not smart enough to hide it. No idea how she’d’ve known where he was, though, and we found her at home. Doesn’t mean she’s the only one, of course. But the warden says he hardly got any mail or phone calls in prison, and only Pete visited.”
“So you’re up a creek.”
“Altschuler’s tearing what’s left of his hair. I tell you, Fred, I don’t know how we’re going to solve this one.”
“What about Bud what’s-his-face?”
“We’re looking for him. It’s been a long time, but he’s a mean drunk, and he’s got a record a mile long. Piddly stuff, mostly, but he’s violent enough. One arrest was for killing a dog. With a knife. I can see him stabbing a man in the back like that.”
Fred changed the subject. “Were you still there when Joan found out about the flowers?”
“Flowers?”
“In church today. Chrissy gave them to her. Broke down and made it sound as if she and Dave were secretly engaged.”
“You think it’s true?” No flies on Johnny Ketcham.
“That’s just it. The guy was such a flirt there’s no way of knowing how much of it was in her mind. But he was out of circulation long enough, he might have been ready for something permanent.”
“Or a quick roll in the hay with a kid half his age. Her mother looked like she kept her on a tight leash—or wanted to.”
Ketcham had seen that. Good. “I don’t know what that was about,” Fred said. “But you might be right. He used to date her mother.”
“Not that it gets us anywhere. We’re going to have to look at some more of the people he defrauded. They’re none of them around here, and that’s going to be a slow business, begging for cooperation from all over. I doubt Altschuler would authorize travel.”
Fred reached over and snagged one of the last fries.
“How long do you think I’ll have to stay away?”
“How much vacation time you have saved up?”
“A fair amount, but this isn’t how I’d planned on spending it.”
“So take your wife on a trip.”
“It’s a thought.” About the only one Ketcham had come up with. Somehow, though, he didn’t think he could persuade Joan to budge just now, and there was no way he was going to take off by himself and leave her to face this alone.
He eyed Wilma’s pie, but it had no appeal today.
“I don’t suppose we could do a little unauthorized travel together.”
Ketcham looked tempted, but he shook his head. “If it weren’t for your mom, we might get away with it, but it’s still in your family. And between you and me, you might want to get Joan out of town for a while.”
“You’re worried?”
“Let’s just say it wouldn’t hurt.”
Chapter 28
Joan and Andrew kept going through family pictures. Answering his questions, she told him family stories about his own childhood, and even though she knew he was pumping her to take her mind off Dave’s murder, she enjoyed doing it.
Looking again at his senior prom pictures, she had a sudden thought. They had left Oliver the summer after that spring dance. As far as she could tell, kid sister that she was, Dave and Patty had been a couple when the family moved back to Ann Arbor. But he’d saved no letters from her, no more pictures, not even her school picture tucked in with the others. Had they broken up before he left? Or had he just decided to forget her? Was she still bitter? But then why had she even gone to his funeral?
Maybe only to support her daughter in the loss she was feeling. Or maybe she was mad enough even now to want to see the last of him.
Not that there had been anything to see. They hadn’t even put an empty urn in the church. They’d probably scatter his ashes in his own woods. Surely that would happen long before his will was probated. But who was to know, anyway?
I’m getting silly, Joan thought. She wondered whether Patty would be working at Ellen’s today. Even if she turned out not to be, going over there would be something to do. You’re really stretching it, she told herself, but she gave herself permission to go, rather than just picking up the phone.
“Think I’ll take a walk,” she said.
“You want me to come?” Andrew asked.
“No, I’d rather go alone.” Not a lot he could say to that. Besides, it was the truth.
“Okay. I’ll wash up.”
“Thanks, Andrew.” Hardly looking back at that small miracle, she pushed her feet into her boots and went out.
The snow wasn’t as deep as it had been, but there was still plenty for sledding. With the park full of kids and dogs, she had to keep her eyes open to avoid the occasional sled flying down the hill from her left and across her path to the next downhill. Below her, she saw an elderly couple trudging up the hill with a sled big enough to share. What fun. She wondered whether she could talk Fred into giving it a try. They’d have to borrow a sled somewhere. Or break down and buy one, if they could even find one.
A little ahead of her, she recognized Laura Putnam, pulling a small sled up the hill. Joan waved to her, and the little girl stopped and waited for her when she reached the path. She was well bundled in padded jacket, snowsuit, and bright blue mittens, but her red cheeks and nose showed that she’d been out in the cold for a while.
“Are you going sledding, too?” she asked, apparently overlooking Joan’s lack of a sled.
“It looks like fun. I was thinking maybe my husband and I could get a big sled and go together.”
Laura looked her up and down. “You wouldn’t fit on mine.”
“I sure wouldn’t.”
Laura’s smile lit up her face. “Guess that means I don’t have to share.”
“No, I’ll have to find a sled of my own.”
“Mom has a big one. She might let you borrow it.”
“Maybe I’ll ask her sometime. Is your mom home now, Laura?”
“No, Patty’s sitting with me. But she said it was okay to come out here alone.” Laura suddenly looked worried.
“Then I’m sure it is. Maybe I’ll go say hi to Patty.” Maybe that was why Patty ducked out of the church so fast. Just a babysitting job.
“Okay. Bye, Joan.” Her worry relieved, Laura turned back up the hill. She’d picked a small hill close to home, with no trees or other hazards to worry about. Joan had no qualms about leaving her to fly down it on her own.
When she reached Ellen’s backyard, the dog didn’t bark. It did wag its tail at her. Something to be said for having been introduced. Joan reached over the fence and patted its head before she pushed the gate open, sliding her body in so that the dog couldn’t take off to join Laura in racing down that hill.
“Anybody home?” she called at the back door.
Now wagging its whole rear end, the dog joined her there.
Patty opened the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh, it’s you. I mean, I just saw you at the church. Come on in, but Ellen’s not back yet. She’s picking up some last-minute things for Laura.”
Christmas was almost on top of them and the last thing on Joan’s mind, in spite of Andrew’s tree waiting and the gifts she’d bought and wrapped long ago, knowing there’d be no time with the wedding right before it. She thanked Patty an
d went in, stomping the snow off her boots before slipping her feet out of them. Patty’s face wasn’t as tense as it had been at the church, but Joan felt anything but welcomed. “I hope it’s okay to stop by like this.”
“Of course. Can I give you anything?”
“Maybe something hot, if it’s really all right. It’s cold out there.”
“I made cocoa, for when Laura gives up. She’s out there sledding, and she’s gonna be an ice cube before long.”
Joan nodded. “I saw her. Right now, she looks good for a few more trips down the hill. But if you have enough, sure, I’ll drink some cocoa.”
Patty poured a cup out of a pan on the stove, plopped it on the kitchen table, and waved at a chair. “You might as well sit down.”
She sat down obediently and sipped the hot cocoa.
Turning her back, Patty slammed pots into the sink. “Gotta get these scrubbed for the Christmas party.”
“Oh? Who’s having a party? I’d thought Ellen wasn’t expecting much of anybody.”
“No one staying here, if that’s what you mean. Just a bunch of people in town who don’t want to have to fix their own Christmas. Seems to me that’s part of it.”
“Depends on how many relatives descend on you, I suppose.”
“Not relatives. Just paying back their social obligations for the year with a big bash during the holidays. Or rather, we are.” She sighed. “It’s a job. I suppose I should be grateful for that.”
“But?” Even through Patty’s back she could read the but.
“Oh, nothing.” She finally turned around, though. Her face was less angry now and more sad. “Not the way I’d expected—hoped—to spend my life.”
Joan nodded. After Ken’s death she’d felt that way for a long time.
“He let you down, didn’t he? Dave, I mean.”
“Oh, I got over that.” But the bitter look was back.
“Patty, I am so sorry.”
“I managed. I still do.”
Joan knew about managing, and how hard it could be. What could she say to someone who was still struggling? She could hardly tell Patty she might get lucky. It hadn’t all been Fred, though. Joan hadn’t waited for luck to come along. But neither had Patty. She was clearly a hard worker, and she had at least one grown child.
“Chrissy seems to have turned out well.”
The look was back again. “Till now. Till he came back.”
Oops. And not for you. Another blow.
“But I can’t tell her anything,” Patty said. “Not that I haven’t tried, but she won’t listen to me.”
“Probably not. Rebecca goes her own way, too.”
“Only she’s landed on her feet.”
“She has, hasn’t she? In spite of Bruce’s mother.”
“His mother? You mean that awful woman is his mother?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Heaven help your daughter.”
“They seem to be ducking her pretty well. The other day the woman actually showed up in my office to tell me I had to give her their new address and make them do things her way.”
Patty looked fascinated. “What did you do?”
“I told her I didn’t know where they were living.”
“You lied?”
“Didn’t need to. I wouldn’t let Rebecca give me their new address. I’d repeated the calls Dave made from our land line, and I was afraid of one of the guys who answered. For all I knew, I’d talked to Dave’s killer. I didn’t want him to be able to find Rebecca.”
“You’re scared?”
“You would be, too, if someone in your family was murdered. You’d want to do what you could to protect Chrissy.”
Patty turned around and attacked the pots again. “Gotta get these done before Laura comes home.”
Was Ellen a tough taskmaster for her few employees? Or was it just a way to avoid answering?
“I’m sorry,” Joan said. “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Tell Ellen I stopped by, and thanks for the cocoa. Forgive my butting in on you. It’s been such a strange time.”
“Yeah.” Patty took the empty cup from her. “For me, too.”
Joan didn’t try to figure it out, but pulled on her still-chilly boots and coat. “Thanks again. I’ll see myself out.”
“Sure. And send Laura home if you see her, okay? Then I won’t have to go out and chase after her. She’s another one with a mind of her own.”
“I’ll be glad to.” Not that she’d planned to go back the same way she came, but she could do that much for Patty.
What must it be like, to have your old boyfriend, so much older than your daughter, come back, only to go after her? Or was it all Chrissy’s imagination? Either way, it had to make life difficult.
Shrugging, she set out into the park again, but she didn’t have to persuade Laura to go home. The child met her a few yards down the path.
“Hi, Joan,” she said. “I’m about frozen. You remember that if you go sledding.”
“I will. If you scoot on home, you’ll warm up fast. Patty has hot cocoa waiting for you.”
“With a marshmallow?”
“You’ll have to ask her. She didn’t give me one.”
“I don’t need to ask. I know where Mom keeps ’em.” She waved and took off for the house.
Chapter 29
Still at loose ends, Joan kept trudging toward home. No place else to go right now. Just as well Ellen wasn’t there, she thought. I didn’t really have any business bothering her, or Patty either, for that matter. So why do I keep wanting to go there?
She knew, of course. But it seemed mawkish to want to return to the scene of her brother’s murder. Why don’t I want to go to the scene of Rebecca’s wedding, instead? Then she remembered that she’d been there only that afternoon. Now the service for Dave overshadowed that lovely day.
I knew he’d wreck it, she thought. But that wasn’t fair. Dave hadn’t brought his killing on himself. Or had he? What had he done to make someone kill him? Maybe old Vern had a point.
Had the police investigated that question? Now she had a purpose. Picking up her pace, she charged through the snow, not to her own house, but to the police station. For a change, she wouldn’t have to worry about interrupting Fred there.
She met Ketcham at the door instead, in his parka and boots.
“Joan.” He sounded surprised to see her.
“Oh, you were going home. I’m sorry.” Poor man, why had she assumed he’d be spending Saturday afternoon at work, after attending her brother’s funeral, at that?
“Not at all, come in. I’m glad you’re here.” He turned and held the heavy door for her.
She thanked him and followed him up to an interview room, where he stripped off the parka and hung up her coat.
“What can I do for you? You’re not looking for Fred.” It sounded like a half question.
“No, I hoped to see you.” She took the seat he offered, and he sat opposite her at the small table. She could imagine being grilled at that table, instead of being met with such sympathetic courtesy. “I keep trying to figure out who killed my brother, and why. I know you are, too, and I had to come ask if there’s any way I might . . . anything I could tell you at this point.”
He nodded as if he had all the time in the world. “That’s good of you.”
“I mean, I know better than to ask what you know, but I just couldn’t stay away.”
“I understand. It’s frustrating, with Fred not able to take an active role in this one.”
“We understand why.”
“Sure you do, but it’s got to be maddening.”
“Yes.” Not much more to say to that. “Do you think it’s because of something Dave did? I mean, we know he was in prison. There must have been people mad at him.”
“We’re looking into those old cases now. It’s hard to do, because they didn’t happen in Indiana, for one, and they’re old, for another. He spent a fair amount of time out of circulation.”
/> “Oh.” Of course. What had she expected, anyway?
“And there doesn’t seem to be anything recent to account for the anger that would provoke that kind of attack.”
She’d tried not to think of the specifics of it. He must have seen it on her face, because he reached out and patted her hand.
“I’m sorry, Joan. It was pretty horrific. At least we’re sure Fred’s mother didn’t do it.”
“She’s a strong woman.” Feeling disloyal, she made herself say it.
“Oh, I don’t mean she couldn’t have. But there wasn’t anything to suggest that she did. From what I’ve heard, she’s never been violent. Best we can tell, she thought she was saving his life, you see.”
“That’s what Fred told me. Poor Helga.”
“He says she forgot it within the hour.”
“I think so, too.” There had been no sign of concern in Helga’s behavior at the rehearsal dinner, much less at the wedding the next day. “She’s lucky to remember her own family.” Much less mine, she didn’t say, but he nodded as if she had.
“What I keep wondering is why it happened here,” she said. “Why not back in Pontiac, where he’d spent so much time and where he was living until he showed up here? You’d think there’d be a reason.”
“Like old Bud, you mean?”
“Well, sure. Have you found him?” Too much to hope for.
“We’re checking into it.” A polite none-of-your-business, if she’d ever heard one. Or was it? Maybe they really were.
“We were looking at old family photos tonight.” Her voice came out hesitant, though she’d tried to sound matter of fact.
He leaned forward. “Yes? You found something?” “Not really. Just that Chrissy looks so much like her mother when she and Dave were dating. And now she thinks he was courting her. She told me today they were engaged. Sort of.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I have to wonder what her mother thought when she heard. Dave pretty much dropped Patty back when we left town.”
Her Brother's Keeper Page 21