Staying Home Is A Killer. Sara Rosett
Marsali set down his mug. “She just didn’t seem depressed at all when she called this morning.”
An Everything In Its Place Tip for Organized Closets
Before you dive into organizing your closet, take a few minutes to gather some items you’ll need:
Large boxes or plastic bags (leaf bags work great) for throwaway and give-away items.
Pad and pencil to jot notes.
Measuring tape in case you decide you need additional shelving.
Chapter Four
“She called this morning?” I asked.
Marsali nodded. “She wanted to come by this afternoon. She did that sometimes. Said she had a hard puzzle for me to look at, but she never came by.”
“A puzzle?” Something, a filmy question, teased at the edge of my consciousness.
“A crossword,” Marsali said. “Sometimes she’d come by and look things up in my books. I have several foreign language dictionaries. She’d usually bring something from here, too. A cinnamon roll or a bagel.”
I swallowed hard. “That sounds just like her.” Then the vague thought crystallized. I’d been so wrapped up processing the fact that Penny was dead and then focused on convincing Thistlewait to check into the message that I hadn’t had time to think about why someone made her death looked like a suicide. No one accidentally slashes their wrists.
“I saw her, too, this morning. She was happy.” I wondered who else Penny had spoken to this morning. “It was about eleven o’clock when I saw her.”
“She called me right at lunch. I was sitting down to my tomato soup and the noon news. She said she’d be by before three.”
“I wonder where she went between eleven and noon.”
Mitch gave me a warning look.
“Cake! Cake! Cake!”
I fed Livvy a sliver of my cake and then I quickly finished the last bite. “All gone,” I told her.
“So Penny did crosswords. I didn’t know that,” Mitch said, obviously trying to steer the conversation to safe ground.
“William enjoyed them as well, but he never stopped by.”
“Umm. I never would have guessed that.” I had trouble picturing Will even reading a newspaper, much less filling in a crossword. Of course, I tried to spend as little time as possible around Penny’s rowdy, knuckle-cracking spouse. I guess I could have missed some of his finer points.
Livvy’s foot thumped me in the shin as she flutter-kicked her feet. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and stared, glassy-eyed, at Marsali’s mug. Then she jerked her fingers out of her mouth and grabbed for the silverware. I snatched it away. “Time for us to go. Livvy’s getting tired.”
“Sure. Good to see you.” Marsali pulled out a silver pen and adjusted his glasses to read the clues for the Across section.
“Maybe I’ll drop by some afternoon,” I said as I zipped Livvy into her coat. “Cinnamon rolls in the afternoon sound great.”
Marsali pushed his huge glasses up his nose and smiled. “I’ll look for you.”
On Wednesday the cold front moved on and glaring sunshine bounced off the snowbanks and reflected off the sheets of ice. I sat in our overstuffed chair with Livvy on my lap. Sunlight covered us like a warm quilt as I turned the pages of our picture books from the library. “Okay, pick another one,” I said.
“Spot! Eed, Spot!” Livvy commanded, meaning “Read, Spot.”
“Okay, for the seventh time today.” I opened the book with the smallest sigh I could manage. The phone rang when we were on page 3.
“Ellie. These people won’t leave me alone.”
“Who is this?” I didn’t recognize the low, garbled voice.
“Will Follette. Penny was always going on and on about you. How smart you are and how you always knew what to do.”
I’d had a high GPA in college, but I always knew what to do? I didn’t think so. “What do you need?” I asked cautiously.
“The phone’s ringing all the time. They all want something. I’m going out of town to bury my wife and don’t have time for this crap. My wife is dead. I don’t have time to return their stupid messages.” His voice wavered up and down.
“Just a minute.”
I pressed the phone into my shoulder and leaned over the arm of the chair to talk to Abby, who was using my computer because hers had crashed. “This is Will, Penny’s husband. He needs help sorting out some messages for Penny. He sounds pretty upset. Could you watch Livvy while I run over there and see what he needs?”
“Sure.” She spun around on the chair and headed to the living room. “I haven’t got to read to anyone for two days.” Abby was out of seclusion after suffering through a vicious forty-eight-hour flu. She’d stayed home today from her third grade class to make sure she was completely over it and get caught up on grading papers and lesson plans.
Outside, it was bright, but it wasn’t warm. The snow wasn’t going to melt any time soon. I crunched through the shell of frozen ice and the puddles of dirty slush as I made my way down the street to Penny and Will’s house. Perched on the tiny slab of a porch, I rang the doorbell.
Will opened the door. “Come on in.” He headed back to his green leatherette recliner and collapsed. Several beer cans on a rickety end table clanked together as he bumped it with his arm.
I took a seat on a worn beige sofa. The decorating scheme was a combination of bachelor pad mismatches and garage sale finds. Black and chrome modern pieces contrasted sharply with faded brown armchairs and the sofa that was way past shabby chic. A few pictures of military jets dotted the stark, white walls. The house had a utilitarian air, like the temporary austerity of a dorm room. The only splash of color came from rugs in the living room and dining room. They looked similar to the ones on our floors, so Will probably brought them back from a trip to Kuwait, Turkey, or Iraq. Those rugs and Penny’s throw her aunt had made with various shades of blue fabric had been the only bright spots in the room. I didn’t see the throw. I was kind of glad it wasn’t there. I swallowed. It was hard enough to know that Penny wasn’t going to walk out of the kitchen any minute. Livvy loved the fringe on the throw and Penny always pulled it out when we came over.
Will listlessly sipped his Budweiser, then lifted it toward me. “What one?”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m sorry about Penny.”
He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Man, she was good to me. Better than I deserved.” His gaze dropped back down to me. “And you know what? I treated her like shit.” His eyes watered and he wiped the corners of his eyes with the back of the hand that held the beer can.
Silently, I agreed with him. Will always seemed to be gone. He was either out of town or out drinking. And if he happened to be home he’d never been there emotionally when Penny needed him. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, glad I hadn’t brought Livvy. At least he was a sentimental drunk.
He picked up a framed snapshot and brought it over to me, then wove his unsteady way back to the recliner. “That was when we started dating. Panama City.”
I studied the smiling faces. The couple stood with their arms around each other. In a wide-brimmed hat and red tank top, Penny looked almost pretty instead of plain. Will’s brown hair drooped down over his eyes. He waved a greeting with his ever-present can of beer in one hand. His smile was relaxed and seemed to mesh with his casual T-shirt, shorts, and sandals. They looked tanned and happy.
I set the picture down on a