Copycat Killing

21

“Hello, Roma,” I heard him say. “I’m sorry for stopping by at this time of night, but I was hoping to talk to your mother. She’s here?”

I knew the tone of voice and the body language well. Marcus was in cop mode. I stood up and walked over to the door before Roma could invite him in.

“Hi Marcus,” I said. “It’s kind of late. Do you have to talk to Pearl tonight? She only got here a little while ago.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Roma was frowning at me.

“Kathleen,” he said. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was invited,” I said, stressing the word invited just a little. “For dinner.”

We stood there for a long moment doing the same kind of stare-down thing I sometimes did with the cats. Of course with them I was always the first to look away. This time, here, it was Marcus. I felt a tiny surge of very childish satisfaction when he did.

“So could you wait until the morning to talk to Pearl?” I asked.

He exhaled slowly and for a second I almost thought I saw a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “I guess I could.” He pulled one of his cards out of his pocket and gave it to Roma. “Would you call me first thing and we’ll set up a time”—his eyes darted to me for a moment—“that works for everyone.”

“I will,” Roma said.

“I really should get going myself,” I said. I glanced at Marcus still in the doorway. “Could you wait and walk me to my truck?” I asked. “It’s dark.”

The truck was parked in Roma’s driveway only a few steps away from the door, but Marcus didn’t so much as turn his head in that direction. “It is dark,” he agreed. “I’ll just wait out here for you. Take your time.” To Roma he said, “I’ll speak to you in the morning.” He moved down the steps to the bottom and leaned against the newel post, crossing his arms over his chest and one incredibly long, strong leg over the other.

Roma closed the door and turned to me. “What was all that between you two?”

“Nothing,” I said. “It’s just that it’s late and your mom must be tired. Why not let her get some sleep? This has to be hard on her.” Pearl was still on the sofa, turned toward Neil, talking to him in a low voice.

“You’re right,” Roma said, tipping her head back to stretch her neck. “I should have thought of that.”

I reached over and gave her arm a pat. “It’s been hard on you too.”

She looked at the little cardboard rectangle in her hand and then put it in her pocket. “I’ll call Marcus in the morning and we’ll take care of it first thing.”

“I think you should…uh…take a lawyer with you.”

“A lawyer?” She made a face and shook her head. “Why would we need a lawyer? Marcus is my friend. I thought you thought of him as a friend too.”

“This is still a police investigation and Marcus has to do his job. Call Peter Lundgren. Call somebody. Please, Roma.” I waited.

“All right,” she finally said.

I walked back to Pearl and Neil. “It was so good to see you,” I said.

Pearl stood up and took my hands in hers. “You too, Kathleen,” she said. “My daughter is very lucky to have you as a friend.”

“I’m lucky to have her,” I said and I realized how much I meant the words as I said them.

“It looks as though we’re going to be here for a few days. I hope we’ll see you again.”

I smiled at her. “I would like that very much.” I gave her hands a gentle squeeze and said, “Good night,” to Neil.

“Call me if you need anything,” I told Roma.

She had one arm folded across her midsection but she wrapped me in a one-armed hug. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

“Anytime,” I said.

Marcus was still at the bottom of the steps. He straightened when I stepped out and walked silently over to the truck with me. Then he made a point to check the front seat and the bed. “Everything looks all right.”

“Thank you,” I said.

He didn’t smile, but I could tell he wanted to. “You’re welcome,” he said. He made no move toward his car, which was parked on the street in front of the house.

“Are you going to give me the ‘stay out of my case’ lecture?” I asked.

“Will it work?” He was standing with his feet apart, hands behind his back.

“No.”

That made him laugh. “You’re honest, Kathleen,” he said. “I’ll give you that.”

I smiled at him. “I’m not trying to interfere in your investigation.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“All right, I admit it doesn’t exactly look that way.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What was Burtis Chapman doing out at Wisteria Hill this morning?” I asked.

He hesitated.

“I can ask Burtis myself,” I said.

“Yes you can,” he said. “It’s not a secret. Burtis knows those woods better than anyone else in town. I asked him to give me the lay of the land back there, that’s all.”

So did that mean he knew about the poker game and Idris Blackthorne’s business operations? I knew he wouldn’t answer that question.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Do you know what The Ladies Knitting Circle was?”

“No. I’m guessing they were knitting?”

I shook my head. “That’s what I thought. Years ago—at the time that Thomas Karlsson disappeared—they were operating a kind of safe house, hiding women from their abusive husbands and helping them get away to start new lives.”

“And how do you know this?” he asked.

My hair was slipping from its ponytail and I reached back and pulled out the elastic. “I’ve been researching some of the groups that used to meet at the library. The Ladies Knitting Circle was one of them.”

“So you think, what? That a group of little old ladies buried Thomas Karlsson out at Wisteria Hill?” Clearly he wasn’t taking what the women had been doing seriously.

“They weren’t exactly little old ladies. Anna Henderson was the leader of the group. When Tom Karlsson disappeared, when it looked like he’d abandoned Pearl and Roma, they were already being hidden by Anna and her friends.”

Marcus glanced back at the house.

My ankle was aching and I shifted more of my weight to my other leg and made a mental note to use Rebecca’s herbal salve on my ankle again before bed. “I’m not telling you this to point the finger at Anna Henderson,” I said. “Pearl had an out and she’d taken it. She was safe. Her child was safe. She had no reason to kill her husband.”

“I didn’t say that Thomas Karlsson was murdered,” he said.

“Oh c’mon,” I said, my exasperation showing in my voice. “I saw his remains. I don’t think he hit himself in the head and then lay down and scraped dirt and leaves over his own body with his last bit of energy. At best he hit his head accidentally and someone hid the body.”

Marcus stared past me, down the driveway. I knew what was coming. Finally he looked at me. “Kathleen, this is an active police investigation,” he said.

“So stay out of it,” I finished. This was the point where I usually got aggravated at him and left in a huff. But I really didn’t want to do that anymore. “Could you stop being a police officer and just be a person for one minute?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “Being a police officer is part of who I am. As far back as I can remember, it’s the only thing I ever wanted to be. If you and I are going to be friends, you’re going to have to find a way to accept that.” He shifted position, folding his arms across his chest. “I can’t go easy on someone who’s part of an investigation just because you’re friends with them.”

“And I just can’t ignore it when one of my friends is in trouble,” I said, pushing that annoying tendril of hair back off my face again. “You’re going to have to find a way to accept that, if we’re going to be friends.”

I pulled my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the driver’s door. “I’m going to leave now,” I said. “Because I’m kind of mad right now.”

“Are you still going to be mad Saturday morning when we go feed the cats?”

Right. I’d forgotten that I’d traded a shift with Harry Junior so I’d be out at Wisteria Hill again in another couple of days.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe.” I wanted to stay mad. It just wasn’t working for some reason.

I climbed in the truck, started it, and backed carefully out of the driveway, making sure my seat belt was fastened. Marcus watched me from the driveway. I raised one hand in good-bye. I was annoyed.

Not rude.