Close Neighbors. Dawn Stewardson
Why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re afraid is going to happen, okay?”
She swallowed hard. Sometimes her dad could read her mind, and she was pretty sure he was doing it right now.
“I’m…I’m mostly afraid they’ll put Rachel in jail.”
“I see. Baby, do you understand what circumstantial evidence is?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Well, it’s not like someone saying he saw who shot Graham. If anyone had, the police would know Rachel didn’t do it.
“But there wasn’t an eyewitness. And the fact she was with him before he was killed is one of the circumstances in the case. So it’s called circumstantial evidence. And because she was with him, the police have to consider the possibility she might have done it. You follow?”
“I guess. But…Daddy…” She took a deep breath, then let the words tumble out. “I heard you on the phone last night. What you said about fingerprints? And about calling the cops?”
Chase swore to himself.
“I didn’t listen on purpose. I was only coming to tell you dinner was ready.”
“Julie, don’t worry about what you heard, okay? After dinner, Rachel and I talked about it and decided the man who phoned was just some crazy person.”
“Honest?”
“Yes. So you do your best to forget about it. It didn’t mean anything.” He waited, certain his daughter wasn’t done quite yet.
Sure enough, she said, “When you came looking for me? When I was next door?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Anne was just gonna tell me how we could stop the police from thinking Rachel killed Graham.”
Chase simply stared at Julie. If she’d told Anne Barrett that she’d moved in next door to a murder suspect…It was hardly the sort of news flash that would make the woman’s day—to say the least.
“You told Anne that Rachel is the girlfriend the reporters are referring to?” he said at last.
“No, I didn’t get that far. I only got to saying I knew somebody with a problem. And Anne said she’d help me figure out what to do about it. But then you said I had to help you.”
Thank heavens for good timing.
“She said I could come back later, though.”
“Julie…I’m not clear on why you thought you should talk to Anne about this.”
“Because she knows all about what the police do. And about mysteries and stuff. When Penelope Snow figures things out in the books, that’s only make-believe. Really, it’s Anne.”
“I know, baby. But she doesn’t exactly figure things out. When she makes up a story, she puts in details that all fit together—so it seems as if Penelope Snow solves a mystery. That doesn’t mean Anne could figure out a real-life one.”
“Yes, she could. ’Cuz she used to be a private detective.”
Chase shook his head.
“She did! It says on her books. Right under her picture. I can show you.”
“No, it’s okay. Now that you’re saying so, I remember it does. But you can’t believe everything you read. No more than you can believe everything those TV reporters say.”
“But she was one,” Julie insisted. “She told me.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you sure she wasn’t just pretending?”
“Uh-huh. She told me her father’s one and she used to work for him. Only, then she decided she liked writing books better.”
“Really,” he said again, his brain shifting gears.
Here he was, not knowing what on earth he should do, and he’d suddenly acquired a neighbor who might be able to give him some advice.
She was like a gift from fate. And even though he’d never normally impose on a woman he barely knew, these were hardly normal circumstances.
Surreptitiously, he glanced at Julie. He didn’t want her any more involved in this than she already was. Yet he could hardly tell her to stay here while he went and talked to Anne without her. Not when, if she hadn’t gone over there in the first place…
Deciding he’d just have to play things by ear, and send her home at the first opportune moment, he said, “Julie? Do you think it would be okay if I went back over and talked to Anne with you?”
ANNE HAD BEEN SURE that Julie would reappear, but she hadn’t expected it to be this soon. She’d barely gotten started on the opening scene of her book before the girl came through the gate again—her father in tow.
Closing her laptop, she manufactured a smile.
“This time you were trying to get some work done,” Chase said as they sat down. “So I apologize for bothering you. But Julie tells me you used to be a P.I. And since the problem she wanted to ask you about is a family matter, I thought, if you don’t mind my sitting in…”
“No, of course not,” she lied. In truth, the idea made her very uncomfortable.
Having a child ask for advice was one thing. Adding her father to the mix was something else entirely. Besides which, she’d assumed Julie wanted to talk about some little-girl issue, not an adult-serious problem.
“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate that,” he added, giving her such an engaging smile she decided she only felt marginally uncomfortable.
“Why don’t you pick up where you left off,” he suggested to Julie.
She nodded, then looked across the table and gnawed on her lower lip for a few seconds. “Have you seen on TV about the man who got killed in High Park?” she finally asked.
“No, my TV’s not hooked up yet. But I heard something about it on the radio last night.” Surely, though, their problem didn’t have anything to do with that. “He was a police detective, wasn’t he?”
“Uh-huh. And he used to be my aunt Rachel’s boyfriend.”
“Really.” She tried not to sound surprised.
“Rachel broke up with him less than a week ago,” Chase added.
“And the TV people keep talking about her,” Julie added. “I mean, they don’t say her name. They only call her his ex-girlfriend. But it’s her. And they’re making it sound like the police think she killed him. And yesterday, two police detectives came to talk to her and my dad. And they had a million questions for both of you. Right, Dad?”
“Right.”
“Why you?” Anne asked him.
“Because Rachel was with Graham for a while on Wednesday evening. And, basically, they wanted my recollection about what time she left and came home.”
“’Cuz they don’t believe what she told them,” Julie said. “That’s why she’s afraid.”
“Julie—”
“Daddy, she is. I can tell.” The girl focused on Anne again. “And I thought you’d know how to make them see she’d never kill anyone.”
Anne looked at Chase once more.
His gaze flickered to his daughter. Then he nodded almost imperceptibly toward their house.
She began breathing more easily. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to say another word about this in front of Julie.
“So…making the police see that someone’s