Disorderly Conduct. Mary Feliz
to go over them with you when you’re ready?”
“Sure,” Tess said, but then excused herself from the table and escaped to the back of the house.
The doorbell rang. Stephen moved the curtain over the kitchen sink and peered out. “It’s Elaine,” he said. “With a hot dish and cookies, it looks like. If Tess and Teddy aren’t up to visitors, we should pull all the drapes on the front of the house. Or I can answer the door and tell people to come by in a few days.”
The seldom-used landline attached to the kitchen wall rang loudly, followed quickly by the cell Tess had left on the table and the phone in Teddy’s pocket. Word of Patrick’s death, apparently, was out.
Chapter 6
Documents to pack for an emergency:
Medical records, insurance cards, prescriptions;
property deeds and insurance policies;
passport, license, birth certificates, wills, powers of attorney.
Include a written list of phone numbers you may need (even if this information is also on your phone). Consider putting copies of all documents on a thumb drive. Digital versions of these files may speed claims processing.
From the Notebook of Maggie McDonald
Simplicity Itself Organizing Services
Sunday, August 6, Early evening
Elaine Cumberfield lived a few houses down the street from Tess, directly across from the middle school. We’d met while I was investigating the murder of the former principal. As soon as I’d stopped suspecting Elaine, we’d become friends.
She came through to the kitchen carrying a plate of her locally famous gingerbread men. “I rang the bell instead of coming through the back, in case you weren’t up for visitors and wanted to pretend no one was home. Am I the first caller? Let me help get things set up. It will be a madhouse before you know it. How on earth does word get out so quickly?” I peeped under the aluminum foil at the cookies. Elaine was known for creating artful cookies, sometimes meant to send a message. Today I wanted to be sure Elaine hadn’t been too flippant and created images Tess and Teddy might find disrespectful.
Elaine smiled and I blushed, knowing she’d read my mind. As a retired middle school principal, she was adept at reading tiny clues to a person’s innermost thoughts. A few hundred years ago, she’d have been burned as a witch. “Just your garden-variety gingerbread men today,” she said. “What did you expect? Angels? Corpses with little x’s for eyes? Chalk outlines of dead bodies? Give me some credit, Maggie. I wouldn’t hurt Tess or Teddy for the world. How are they holding up?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet how I’m holding up. It’s early. I think they’re both still in shock.”
“I don’t know who started this dreadful custom of intruding on a family in their grief, but Orchard View will turn out in droves. They all adore Tess—and an unsolved mystery.” Elaine handed me a cloth grocery bag that was heavier than I’d anticipated. “I stopped by Safeway and picked up some decaf and juice. Can you brew the mocha java and mix up the lemonade? Make sure she’s got plenty of ice.”
I dropped the bag on the floor next to the fridge and helped Elaine move the table to create a buffet. She rummaged in a cabinet for a tablecloth while I marshaled the troops.
“Teddy, pull out whatever soda, beer, and bottled water you have in the kitchen or the garage.” Action was supposed to be effective for dealing with grief. We’d have to see. “Do you have a tub or a cooler your mom uses for parties? David and Brian, help him get soft drinks on ice on the patio. Beer stays inside so the teens don’t help themselves.”
David and Brian sighed in an overly dramatic manner and rolled their eyes.
“Other teens,” I said. “Not you or Teddy or any of your friends. Other teens. Teens I don’t know and you don’t know. Keeping an eye on the intoxicating beverages is the responsible thing to do. Providing underage people with alcohol is a crime. Do you want your mom to get arrested?” My kids weren’t the only drama queens in the family. They rolled their eyes again and got to work. If eye rolling was an aerobic activity, no high school on the planet would need to worry about physical education credits.
I continued issuing orders. “Max and Stephen, find serving utensils and get the buffet set up. Locate whatever pitchers or thermal carafes, cups, and glasses you can find for lemonade and coffee. Pull those dining chairs into the living room. If you see anything that needs to be tidied up or thrown in the wash, do Tess a favor and take care of it without asking. She’ll be overloaded with decisions for the next few days, and we don’t want to add to her burden. Paolo, you’re on fridge and freezer duty. See what you can consolidate or toss. Be ruthless. Clear out as much as you can. Casseroles and dinner salads will start piling up before you know it. I’ll track down masking tape and a marker, so we can label any non-disposable dishes with the owners’ names.”
Max and Stephen stared at me like students who hadn’t expected a pop quiz. I said what I thought they were thinking. “Is this kind of heavy-handed? Moving Tess’s furniture and taking over her kitchen?”
“Trust your instincts,” said Elaine. “I’m a widow. My husband died years ago, but I still remember the pain and the fog. I couldn’t have made an extra decision to save my life. Tess probably won’t notice or care what we do. And if she does, she’ll be grateful. Where is she? She’s become a member of the club no one wants to join—parents without partners, subgroup: young widows.” Elaine sighed, and without waiting for an answer regarding Tess’s whereabouts, strode confidently down the hall toward the bedrooms.
Elaine was right. I’d no sooner mixed the first batch of lemonade and poured boiling water over coffee grounds than the neighbors descended. The first few rang the doorbell, but after that they poured in, all of them bearing food. Kids gathered in the backyard. I whispered to Brian and David to call an adult if they needed any help, but I recognized most of the kids and knew they’d be supportive.
Paolo moved through the crowd with uncharacteristic ease, refilling chip bowls, making sandwiches, and distributing food to the high school students assembled around Tess’s gas fire pit in the back. Max and Stephen helped too. We all kept a close eye on Tess to make sure she wasn’t buttonholed by anyone with more hot air than tact. Every time I spotted Jason, he was speaking gravely into his cell phone. I hoped that after the spontaneous gathering wrapped up, he’d pass along any news he’d gleaned about the fire and Patrick’s death.
The conversation swirled with rumors, mostly about the fire. I shamelessly eavesdropped as I circulated, refilling lemonade glasses, greeting people, and answering questions. “It’s too soon to tell,” was my go-to response and it fit nearly every query about the fate of our house, plans for a memorial service for Patrick, the cause of his death, or requests for reports on how well Tess and Teddy were coping.
I overheard pieces of conversations:
“I hear it’s already sixty percent contained.”
“I don’t know why everyone is freaking out.”
“Attention seekers, I guess. Drama queens—”
“They found multiple points of origin. Can’t figure out what caused it. Might be arson.”
“The wind shifted, and the fire service has abandoned the original fire line. Mandatory evacuations in the Hidden Villa area. They’ve relocated all the campers to some old barracks at Moffett Field—”
“Remember that time Patrick...”
Stories abounded, shared by those who’d known Patrick from his childhood in Orchard View, from those who’d worked with him, coached with him, or gone to school with him. And neighbors who’d benefited from his willingness to chip in on chores whenever anyone was laid up or busy. I hoped someone would collect the stories and write them down to save for Teddy and Tess to read later, when their wounds were not quite so fresh.
And