Читать книгу Magnolias, Moonlight, and Murder - Sara Rosett - Страница 8

The next morning I was in what I’d begun to think of as the box room—I refused to call it a storage room. I’d worked my way through two boxes and was taking a break to change Nathan’s diaper when the doorbell rang.

It was too early in the morning for Geneva, Livvy’s playmate from down the street. Geneva’s mom, Bridget, had a strict schedule for her daughters. I knew Geneva was listening to Mozart until ten o’clock; then they were off to Gym-boree.

A petite woman of about fifty with short, curly blond hair stood on the porch. I opened the door and pushed the heavy glass screen door open a few inches.

The woman said, “I’m Nita Lockworth. I’d like to talk to you about what you found last night.”

She wore a sweatshirt embroidered with pumpkins, neat jeans, and Keds tennis shoes. I glanced over her shoulder at the end of the street. The gridlock of official cars had cleared out. Only one sheriff’s car remained. I couldn’t see the entrance to the path, but I could see the taut line of yellow tape tied to the stop sign.

She waited with her hands clasped together at her waist and her head tilted slightly, her dark eyes on me. She reminded me of a bird as she stared patiently. I fumbled for a reply. Waraday hadn’t specifically asked me not to say anything, but he probably wouldn’t want me to talk about what I’d seen. And there hadn’t been anything in the paper this morning about the discovery. How had she found out about it?

Sensing my hesitation, she tilted her head to the other side and said, “Dorthea told me you’d found the bones. I’ve already been to the sheriff’s department, but they’re not telling me anything until all the official tests are done.”

“Well, I’m afraid that I’m not going to know anything more. I don’t know anything about bones or skeletons.”

“But you saw them and you’re as close as I can get right now.” She said it calmly, but there was an underlying persistence that indicated she wasn’t going to leave my porch any time soon. Nathan wiggled in my arms and I shifted him to my other hip.

“You don’t recognize my name, do you?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“I’m Nita Lockworth. Jodi’s mother.” She pulled her practical brown purse forward so that I could see the small button with a picture clipped to the strap. The same picture dotted the town on billboards and flyers. I’d completely missed her last name when she introduced herself earlier.

Nathan squirmed again, pulled his thumb out of his mouth, and let out that whiny whimper that meant he wanted down. I twisted the screen door handle. She was wondering if the remains I saw last night were her daughter. Even though I wouldn’t be able to tell her anything, I couldn’t turn her away. With Nathan’s pudgy body shifting impatiently in my arms, I thought how horrific it would be for your child to disappear, even if that child was an adult.

I pushed the door open and said, “Come in. I need to change a diaper. Then I can talk.” I gestured at the dining room table and said, “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll be right back?”

I glanced down the hall as I went into Nathan’s room. She’d pulled out a chair and was sitting primly with her hands in her lap. The pile of clean clothes at the other end of the table almost hid her diminutive frame. I’m pretty speedy when it comes to changing diapers, so I was done and back out of Nathan’s room in under a minute, with him again riding my hip, but much happier now.

Livvy met me in the hall. “Can I finger-paint?”

Ah, finger-painting, the ultimate messy activity. “Not right now, but I’ll let you and Nathan watch Tom and Jerry.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

I normally didn’t let the kids watch television in the morning. I saved it for the afternoon or evening when everything always seemed to fall to pieces. Typically, it was right around the time I was trying to cook dinner, so that’s when I usually parked the kids in front of the TV for thirty minutes, but they didn’t need to hear the conversation I was going to have with Nita Lockworth.

I arranged them in the living room, clicked on the show, and put a stack of plastic blocks and books beside them. Our house had an open floor plan. No walls separated the living room, dining room, and kitchen, so I’d be able to keep an eye on them.

I went to the dining room and paused with my hands on the back of a chair. “Can I get you something to drink? Iced tea? Water? I could make some coffee.” I didn’t drink it, but my friend Abby did and I kept a supply for her.

“That’s kind of you, but no.”

“All right.”

I sat down and tried to think how to begin, but before I could gather my thoughts she said, “The house looks very nice. Thank you for taking such good care of it.”

“Excuse me?” I asked. Why was she talking about the house? Wasn’t she here about her missing daughter?

She smiled and the fine skin around her dark eyes crinkled. “I’d forgotten, you wouldn’t know because we used a rental agency. This was Jodi’s house. My husband’s a builder, and for some reason, we couldn’t get this one to sell. It’s a bit smaller than the others in the neighborhood. Maybe that’s why. Anyway, after a year on the market he convinced Jodi to move in. She was going to buy a house, but why should she do that when we had a perfectly good house sitting vacant?”

“Oh.” I sat back. Jodi Lockworth lived here? That news explained Coleman’s rather strange hesitation when I asked about Jodi. Why hadn’t I heard about this? Dorthea hadn’t mentioned it. There weren’t a lot of homes on the market when we moved to North Dawkins. Christmas isn’t that big of a selling season, so we’d rented the house through a property management company, which was also where we sent our rent each month and called if we had any problems. Dorthea and I had never talked about the missing woman. But still, you’d think it would be something that would be mentioned, even in passing.

“I didn’t realize,” I said. “I can see why you’d wonder about the…what I found.”

“Yes, the bones. What can you tell me? What did you see?”

I glanced at the kids, but they were enthralled with the TV. That’s the thing about not letting them watch it all day; when I turn it on, it’s like they’re in a trance.

“Well, I was on a walk. Lots of people in the neighborhood walk that path,” I said slowly, not sure how she’d handle what I was saying.

She nodded briskly. “Yes, Jodi often jogged that trail.”

Apparently, she wasn’t going to break down and cry, so I described seeing the skull, then my discovery of the second one and the open grave. She nodded as I spoke, then pulled a small handheld computer from her purse. “Do you mind if I make a few notes? I’m afraid my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

I said, “No, of course not.” But I was thinking, what kind of person analytically takes notes when it’s possible her missing daughter’s body has been found?

Mrs. Lockworth spent a few moments tapping away at her palm-sized device and I picked up a T-shirt and folded it.

She paused with the stylus in the air. “Did you see anything that would help identify the bones? Any clothing? Jewelry? Anything at all?”

“No.” I put the shirt in a pile and picked up another. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. It was almost dark and I’m not an expert. I’m sure the sheriff’s department will have more information than I do.”

She tucked the computer back into her purse and picked up one of Nathan’s shirts. She folded it, smoothing the fabric slowly under her fingers.

“The sheriff’s department has called in some experts, and contrary to what you see on television, the tests they run take time. There may not be any definitive answers for weeks or months.”

“Oh. I see.”

I couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to wait, not knowing anything. Yet she seemed closed off from any emotion. Maybe it was a defense mechanism she used to deal with the stress and uncertainty.

She pulled several miniature socks toward her and matched them up. A smile turned up the corners of her lips. “So small,” she said. She worked slowly, caressing each sock and matching it with its mate. It was quite a contrast to my usual slapdash manner. I just wanted to get everything sorted out and put away.

I thought back to Waraday’s young face. “Do you have concerns with the investigation? Is that why you’re asking your own questions?”

She pushed the stack of neatly folded socks back to the center of the table and looked me square in the face. “Davey is a good investigator. I know he’s doing everything he can to find out what happened to my daughter.”

“Davey?” I asked. “As in Detective Waraday?”

“Yes. I’ve known his family for fifty years. His mother was one of my best friends growing up. We played hide-and-seek together and climbed trees, until we realized that boys were so much more interesting than games and trees.”

Despite her words of praise, wouldn’t it be hard for Mrs. Lockworth to see “Davey” as anything but a kid? She’d probably wiped his snotty nose and scolded him when he got in trouble.

“I’ve had cancer, Ellie.”

The abrupt subject change threw me. Weren’t we talking about Waraday? How had we gotten onto cancer? I glanced quickly at the kids. Had I misjudged her? Maybe I shouldn’t have let her inside.

“Cancer changes everything. I learned that no matter how kind and helpful the doctors were, no one had more interest in my treatment than me. I was my best advocate. I learned to ask questions and keep asking until I understood everything. I learned to be persistent. I’ve been cancer free for fifteen years and part of that is because of the questions I asked and the decisions I made.

“It’s the same thing with Jodi. Waraday is a good investigator. He’ll do his best, but he’s got other cases. To the state forensic team, those bones are another set of remains to be processed. Don’t get me wrong. I know everyone cares and wants to find the answers, but I’m her mother. No one cares more than me.”

“I can understand that.”

She looked at Livvy and Nathan. “I’m sure you can. Thank you for talking to me. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“Not at all. You’ve helped me fold laundry, which you didn’t have to do at all. I’m sorry I couldn’t help any more.”

“It’s nice to do something so normal.” She shouldered her purse and pushed in the chair.

“We have a meeting once a month for the community. We go over strategies and leads to help find Jodi. If you’re interested, we’d love to have you.” She pulled a business card out of her purse along with a silver pen. She jotted a date and time on the back and handed it to me. “We normally meet on the third Tuesday of the month, but this week we’re having a special meeting on Friday.”

The card had the familiar picture of Jodi. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.” I walked her to the door and held it open. “Do you mind if I ask you why you decided to rent out this house?” It was a question that I couldn’t get out of my mind.

She paused on the front porch, her gaze running over the wicker chairs and potted flowers. “After she’d been gone three weeks it became obvious that Jodi wasn’t going to come home or be found quickly. The investigation stalled. They’d followed all the leads they could and there didn’t seem to be anything else to do. The national media gave the story some attention early on. When they did stories on Jodi, tips flowed in. It seemed like a good idea to consolidate our resources and use everything we could to keep her picture in the public eye.” She smiled and said apologetically, “The billboards and the flyers, those cost quite a bit. Then there’s the eight-hundred number and the Web site. The rent on this house helps to pay for some of that. We have all of Jodi’s things waiting for her.” Her gaze suddenly flew back to me. “But don’t worry, when Jodi comes home you won’t be without a place to live. This is your house for as long as you need it.”

A cry sounded from the living room. I knew it wasn’t an emergency. It was Nathan’s “I’m not getting enough attention” cry. Nita said, “I know you’re busy. Thanks again for talking to me.”

I closed the door and dropped the card onto the kitchen desk before going back to pick up Nathan and get the next load of laundry.