Chapter 33
WE’RE SITTING IN RUTH’S FRONT ROOM. DETECTIVE BELLMAN HAS called all of the residents of Cheshire Lake together for an update.
A young woman has accompanied him, and he introduces her as Detective Roz Sanchez.
Her dark hair is slicked back in a tight bun, and her blue suit is neat and tailored.
She remains quiet, in the background, her brows drawn together over her notebook while Detective Bellman addresses us.
“I just want to let you know where we are in the investigation into Mr. Harwood’s murder.”
I’m perched at the end of the sofa. Noah came in last and wedged himself between me and Alex.
Sunny, who drove back as soon as she heard about our father’s impromptu interview, sits on Alex’s other side.
Larry and Ruth are sitting in matching armchairs.
Larry leans back, his hands clasped over his belly, while Ruth fusses with her wedding rings.
Dale sits in a dining room chair pulled to the arched doorway. His clothes are rumpled, his hair uncombed. And he keeps looking over his shoulder as if Aubrey might be hiding somewhere in the interior of Ruth’s home.
Jeffrey stands half in the foyer, half in the front room as if he doesn’t want to be too near the detectives. Detective Sanchez peeps up from her notebook periodically, her gaze lingering on each of us in turn.
“We still have not located the weapon used in the commission of the murder,” Detective Bellman says.
“Nothing has panned out from our search in the lake on that front. We’d really like to search everyone’s home and grounds here.
” His forehead furrows as his eyes go from one of us to the other.
“But so far, other than Jeffrey, no one has allowed us to do that. Why? It would move the investigation forward to check that off our list.” He hitches up his pants.
“Seems to me you would all be eager to let us do our jobs.”
The antique mantel clock chimes loudly.
Alex clears his throat. “It’s not that, Tom. We just feel it isn’t necessary. No one here would’ve hurt Simon. We think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“We’ve got no indication whatsoever that anyone came from the outside,” Detective Bellman says in a stern voice daring us to challenge him.
Ruth turns and looks at Dale, whose face is bright red. Dale’s gaze shifts to Larry, who takes a furtive glance at Jeffrey.
“What about my wife? What about Aubrey!” Dale shouts, standing beside his chair.
“Do you have any reason to believe that Mrs. Thompson was involved in the murder or that she has any information about it?” the detective asks.
“What? No, of course not. I want to know where she is. I want to know if …” His gaze wanders the room. “I want to know if someone killed her, too! And I don’t understand why you people don’t seem to give a damn about her!” Dale collapses back into his chair, his head in his hands.
“Well, maybe if you or your neighbors let us take a look on your property, we might find a clue to your wife’s …
situation,” Detective Bellman says. “In any case, her car is gone. You told us her purse and her phone aren’t at the house.
At this point there is no reason to think anything bad has happened to her. ”
“But you don’t know that!” Dale says.
I think of the black-and-white checkered scarf hidden in Noah’s bathroom drawer. I notice that he’s got a small notebook on his lap, a pen in his hand. Sunny seems to have just noticed, too.
“What about you, Noah?” she says. “You have anything to add about Aubrey?” Her words are razor sharp and I catch my breath. What does Sunny know about the two of them?
Noah tucks his glasses into his coat pocket. “No. I have no idea where she is. But …” He turns his attention to Detective Bellman. “You are more than welcome to search my house and grounds.”
The room falls silent, as if Noah has laid them all open to scrutiny, as if he’s broken with the team. If Noah allows a search of his place, the rest should follow, unless they have something to hide, that is.
“Thank you, Mr. Cole. We’ll get that set up.” Detective Bellman smiles like the cat that swallowed the canary. A break in the enclave has occurred.
With a little murmuring, the meeting wraps up. Dale darts out the front door, and Ruth offers the rest of us coffee. She disappears into the kitchen, followed by Larry, Alex, and Sunny.
Noah trails the detectives into the foyer.
“What have you found out about Carol Lawson?” he asks.
Detective Bellman shoots a look at his partner. Her dark eyes meet Noah’s. “We’re talking to her sister. That investigation is active, Mr. Cole. Do you have anything to add?”
“No.” Noah’s gaze drops to his notebook, and I can’t help but think that Noah is doing an investigation of his own. He follows the detectives out the door, where they linger a moment on the porch out of earshot.
I walk into the kitchen, where Sunny’s voice is raised.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea, Dad?”
“Don’t you think it would look worse to cancel?” They turn in my direction. “What do you think, Emma?”
“What are we talking about?”
Ruth sets mugs of coffee on the table while Larry settles himself heavily into a chair. Jeffrey is nowhere in sight.
“The launch party,” Alex says.
I’m not sure why he cares what I think, so I manage a shrug.
Sunny throws up her hands. “Whatever.”
“Are you busy Tuesday night, Emma? I’d love for you to be there,” Alex says.
A party. Not my favorite thing, and considering the circumstances, I’m even less enthusiastic than usual. But what can I say at this point? “Sure. I can be there.” Where else did he think I had to be anyway?
“We’ll all be there to support you, Alex,” Ruth says. Which feels strange. I haven’t known Ruth to go farther than the grocery store since I’ve been here. And the launch party is slated to take place at a venue in Boston.
“That would be wonderful. Let’s have the whole family there,” Alex says.
“Should be a great event. We’ve made a big deal about the local connection with this book.
Salem Witch Trials and all.” He glances at Sunny.
“And we should carry on, right? If we start canceling things, it’ll look like we do have something to hide. ”
Sunny blows out a breath, pulls her phone from her pocket, and leaves the room.