11
Julia and Courtney turned onto the road that led to Kay’s farm, surprised to see a line of Pennsylvania State Police cruisers parked along the shoulder, their black-and-gold trim glinting darkly in the sun.
State troopers were walking through the middle of the pasture in rows, and their black knit caps stood out against the brownish-green grass.
Julia straightened in the passenger seat. “This has to be about the murder, right?”
“I’ll ask.” Courtney drove to a state trooper emerging from one of the cruisers.
He was young, and his nametag read SYLVESTER in white letters.
He had on a black insulated jacket over a bulletproof vest, and his thick belt held a matte-black holstered gun, handcuffs, keys, and a radio.
His black knit cap showed the Keystone emblem.
“Please keep moving, Miss,” Trooper Sylvester said with a professional smile.
“I’m Courtney Horan. My grandmother was Kay Patterson.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Trooper Sylvester slid off his cap, revealing a bristle of brown hair.
“Thank you, but can you tell me what’s happening here?”
“Okay, since you’re the victim’s family. We’re conducting a manhunt.”
“But the murder was Monday. Why now? Did you get a tip?”
Julia was thinking the same thing. It seemed late for a manhunt, and she doubted Kay’s killer would still be in her backyard.
Trooper Sylvester hesitated. “No tips. We were just called in by Buckley.”
“Well, thank you. I had no idea.”
“It’s up to Buckley to keep you informed.
Unfortunately, they don’t have a Comms department like the bigger forces.
We lend a hand when needed. It’s mutual aid, and the locals don’t have the manpower to cover ground.
” Trooper Sylvester gestured over his shoulder.
“We’ll probably be at this all day. It takes time. ”
Courtney gestured at the line of troopers. “So they search, like that?”
“Yes, quadrant by quadrant. It’s standard procedure, and it works. You probably remember the Cavalcante manhunt, a couple years ago.”
“No, I’m not from around here.”
“It was a big one. Cavalcante escaped from Chester County Prison and eluded capture for two weeks. Before him was Eric Frein, who killed one trooper and wounded another at the Blooming Grove barracks. We worked with the locals, ATF, FBI, and DEA on that one. It took forty-eight days, but we got him. The problem is the terrain in the area. Woods, ravines, caves, abandoned outbuildings. Lots of places to hide.” Trooper Sylvester gestured behind him, to his right.
“You probably know this, but there’s a creek back there in the woods. ”
Courtney nodded. “I haven’t been back there since I was little, but I believe you. Will you tell me if you find him?”
“We’ll inform Buckley, and they’ll inform you.”
“Do you know if they have a suspect?”
Trooper Sylvester pursed his lips. “Unofficially, I’ll tell you they do not.”
“Okay, thanks. My grandmother’s house is at the end of the road. Please come by if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks.” Trooper Sylvester stepped back, waving. “Take care now.”
“Bye.” Courtney gave the car gas, shaking her head. “I don’t get something. Why would the Buckley police wait so long to call in the state troopers?”
“I don’t get it, either. He said Buckley doesn’t have Comms, but they can pick up a phone, right?”
“I’m telling you I have no confidence in these guys.” They reached Kay’s house and Courtney pulled into the driveway to find two older women sitting in a double rocker on the front porch, holding foil-covered Pyrex trays on their laps. “Oh no, I forgot they were coming.”
“Who are they?”
“Her best friends. Mona’s the one on the left and Susan’s on the right.” Courtney parked behind an old blue Subaru with an I LOVE MY MALTESE bumper sticker. “They weren’t supposed to be here until ten.”
“Aw.” Julia eyed the women, who were sitting close together, comfortable in the way that only old friends can be. They were both short, slim, and white-haired, as cozy as two salt shakers. “That’s us, years from now.”
“Except for the casseroles.” Courtney cut the ignition and grabbed her phone. “Come on. We can’t let them see that carpet.”
“Oops, right.” Julia got her purse, and they hustled out of the car and hurried to the porch steps to meet the women.
Both women rose, setting the casseroles aside, and Courtney and Julia hustled up the steps.
They met on the porch, when Mona and Susan gathered Courtney into a motherly hug.
Mona was Indian American, with amber-framed glasses that coordinated with a tan cotton sweater, loose jeans, and suede Birks, while Susan was white with a styled coif and dressed more conventionally, in a navy sweater set with black pants and black Hokas.
“We’re so sorry,” Mona and Susan said in unison.
“Thank you.” Courtney let them go, her eyes filmed. “I’m so sorry for you, too. I know how much you loved her.”
Mona’s hooded eyes glistened behind her glasses. “She was everything you could ever want in a friend.”
“I thank God for her, I truly do.” Susan turned her palms heavenward.
“She helped me through so much in my life. My husband’s death, my breast cancer.
She was there for me, every step of the way.
” Susan touched Courtney’s cheek. “You were everything to her, too. She talked about you nonstop. But you know that already.”
Courtney nodded, sniffling. “I do, she was the best.”
Susan shook her head. “I can’t believe we lost her, this way. We have to find who killed her. Did you see the state police finally showed up? What took them so dang long? The first twenty-four hours are the most important.”
Mona turned to Courtney and Julia. “She watches all the crime shows. Dateline, all that.”
Susan nodded, frowning. “Even I could get away by now. Not to mention a killer is on the loose. Everybody’s afraid. I was on the phone all night with my prayer group. We’re going to say a special Mass for Kay.”
Mona put an arm around Courtney. “Let’s not yammer out here. I brought my tuna fish casserole and Susan made pasta salad. Let’s go inside.” Mona turned to go, but Courtney stopped her.
“We don’t need to go through the living—”
“That’s okay,” Susan interrupted, her tone gentle. “We saw the rug through the window. We didn’t go in. We didn’t want to contaminate the scene.”
Mona shook her head. “We don’t mind seeing. We owe that to Kay.”
Later, the four women made a heartbroken huddle in the living room, standing a respectful distance from the bloodstain.
Susan made the Sign of the Cross, and Mona dabbed her nose with a Kleenex from her sleeve.
Courtney hung her head, and Julia kicked herself for not putting the room back in order last night.
The furniture was still upended, and the air smelled faintly of blood.
Susan cleared her throat, her mouth draped by soft cheeks. “When you get to be our age, you’ve seen so much, you can handle anything. You get stronger when you get older, not weaker. Life makes you strong.”
Mona bunched up her Kleenex. “But this is a test.”
Courtney turned to them with brimming eyes. “My grandmother loved both of you. Thank you for being such good friends to her.”
Susan dabbed her nose again. “It was our pleasure. She was our pleasure.”
“That’s the truth.” Mona sniffled. “You know, we used to talk about getting older, even dying. She was brave enough to look it in the eye, she really was. She named our book club the Right-Side-of-the-Daisies Book Club.”
Courtney smiled sadly. “That sounds like her. She planned her whole funeral. She picked out the readings, the music, even the restaurant for the repast. She told me she didn’t want me to have to plan another funeral, after my parents.”
Mona nodded. “She told us that. She wanted to be cremated because it was better for the environment. She wanted her ashes scattered over her garden.”
Susan sighed. “Ladies, let’s eat. We need to keep up our energy. Food helps, take it from me.”
Courtney nodded. “Julia and I didn’t have breakfast. We could really use a tuna casserole with pasta salad.”
All through breakfast, Julia was preoccupied.
She felt moved by being with Mona and Susan, seeing them so bereft and hearing them talking about Kay with such love.
Julia’s gaze kept straying to the window overlooking the backyard, and she felt drawn to see Kay’s garden again, even after last night.
So when the meal was over, and they picked up the dishes, Julia exchanged a meaningful glance with Courtney, excused herself, and went out back.
Julia stepped outside, closing the screen door behind her. The air felt fresh and cool, and she breathed it in. She could see the lay of the land now that it was daytime, and the area directly behind the house had been mowed, but beyond it was the pasture, overgrown with rippling grass.
She walked left to the garden, now simply a large rectangle of hard earth, yet to be planted.
Little silver signs with embossed lettering that read SHASTA, GERBER, and GOLDEN were posted here and there.
The sight touched her, and her heart ached at the thought of Kay lovingly cultivating the earth, anticipating a Spring she would never live to see.
Suddenly Julia spotted police cruisers racing across the overgrown pasture. Birds and insects flew squawking from the scrub, flapping their wings in panic.
Julia felt a bolt of excitement. Something big was happening. The cops could have found Kay’s killer.
“Courtney!” she shouted, running for the house. “Get the car!”