Читать книгу Magnolias, Moonlight, and Murder - Sara Rosett - Страница 9

“What’s that?” I asked Livvy. “A flower?” Livvy and I were drawing with chalk on the driveway while Nathan pushed his bubble mower across the lawn.

Intent on filling in her shape with pink strokes, she didn’t look up. “It’s a whale.”

I stood up to stretch my cramped legs and watched Nathan turn at the magnolia tree at the end of our yard and begin his long trek back. A breeze had chased the last of the humidity from the air as it whipped the limbs of the loblolly pines and made the glossy cottonwood leaves dance. Today actually felt like a fall day, crisp and a little on the cool side. Since most of the summer had been so hot and muggy when you stepped outside that it felt like you’d entered a sauna, I figured we’d better make the most of the lovely weather.

“Hello, there!” a voice called, and I turned to see our neighbor Dorthea making her methodical way down the street. She walked half a mile every day no matter what the temperature or humidity. The only thing that stopped her was rain.

Livvy waved. “Hi, Mrs. Dorthea.”

That was how she introduced herself to me and Livvy on the day we’d moved in. “Just call me Mrs. Dorthea, sweet pea,” she’d said to Livvy. Livvy had looked slightly confused at this combination of words.

“I brought you some Oreos,” she’d said as she placed a paper plate in my hand. “Don’t do much baking anymore, but I live two doors down toward the pond, so if ya’ll ever need anything, give me a holler.” Haller is how it sounded with her southern accent.

A widow, she lived alone in the spacious new house she’d bought after she sold the only other house she’d ever owned, an old rancher on Scranton Road. We’d learned all these details and more during our first chat on the front porch, before she had placed one blue-lined hand on the brick wall to steady herself as she went down our three porch steps and made her labored way back across the street.

Livvy had looked at me and whispered, “Her name is Mrs. Dorthea Sweet Pea?”

I’d explained that sweet pea was an endearment and she wanted Livvy to call her by her first name, Dorthea, but with the added courtesy title of “Mrs.” I’d discovered that here in the South it was a common way for children to address adults.

“She walks like a turtle, hunched over and slow,” Livvy had said as we watched her unsteady progress. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

There hadn’t been a trace of self-pity or sadness in Dorthea’s bright hazel eyes, only cheerful delight. “I think so.”

I walked to the end of the driveway.

“We’ve certainly had some excitement, haven’t we?” Dorthea said.

“Yes. You sent Mrs. Lockworth over to see me?”

She nodded and adjusted her wide-brimmed hat. “Were you able to tell Nita anything?”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t know anything about bones and there wasn’t anything there to help identify them.”

Dorthea sighed. “So sad for her. She’s such a dear, so staunch and persevering, but you know it has to be tearing her up inside. I hoped you’d be able to help her.”

“Why didn’t you mention Jodi lived here?”

“There never seemed a good time to talk about a woman who’d disappeared.” Dorthea rested a hand on our brick mailbox and flicked her gaze at Livvy, who was curled up over her chalk drawing. “The young ones were always around and I didn’t want to scare them. There’s so much fear in their lives today anyway.”

“In theirs and ours, too,” I said as I thought of the conversations we’d already had with Livvy about how she had to stay with us in stores because someone might want to “take” her. Even in our front yard, I never let the kids out of my sight. I’d seen too many news stories about kidnappings.

Nathan made another turn and set off diagonally across the lawn, and Livvy added waves with blue chalk. “They’re both out of earshot now. What happened with Jodi?”

“She moved in summer before last. The house had been vacant for quite a while. I think because it was smaller than most of the others.”

I nodded. “No loft over the garage.”

Dorthea continued. “Jodi told me she was going to live there until the market picked up. Her daddy’s a builder. He was going to build her a house over near the base, close to her work, but since this house was one of his and it was vacant she moved in here.”

“Lockworth Homes?” I asked. I’d seen that sign around the neighborhood.

“Right. I’d say he probably built a third of the houses in here. From what Nita says, they’re building all over the county, which is a real blessing. All that stuff they’re doing to find Jodi isn’t cheap, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” I’d looked into the price of advertising for my organizing business when we first arrived and I knew even an ad in the paper would set you back a few hundred dollars. “So Jodi worked at the base?”

“Yes. Something to do with the children’s sports teams. I didn’t really understand it.”

I ran through possible programs in my mind. “The Youth Center, maybe?”

“Yes. That was it. She was very sporty. I’d see her running every evening. And she had all sorts of fancy equipment. She was always toting around golf clubs and tennis rackets. My, she was active. Tired me out, just watching her. She did articles for the paper, too, but that was only part-time. Her main job was at the base, coordinating all the teams.”

I kept my gaze on Nathan. He’d abandoned the mower and now squatted over the flower bed by the front door. He wasn’t digging up anything or putting things in his mouth, so I decided to leave him for now.

“So she just disappeared? What happened? It sounds like she had a great life.” Free housing, a civil service job, and all the sports she could play.

Dorthea put her hand over her lips briefly. Her hazel eyes watered and I patted her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it, if it bothers you.”

“No.” She blinked and patted her lips, then pulled her hand away. “No. That’s another reason I haven’t mentioned it to you. I get misty when I talk about it. I was the last person who saw her. She’d gone for her run, up the path. That was the route she ran every day.”

I swallowed. No wonder Nita Lockworth had been on my doorstep this morning.

“I saw her leave her house for her run about six o’clock that night. She waved to me. Later, about eight, I was closing my blinds and I saw her sitting at her computer, typing away.” Dorthea pointed to one of the windows on the front of our house. “Her blinds were open and it was dark enough that I could see her.”

I glanced across the street from Dorthea’s house to the window of the room that we also used as an office. Dorthea would have had an unobstructed view, no bushes or leafy trees to block the sight.

“It took them until Monday to figure out she was gone because it was a Friday night. She didn’t have any of her teams playing that weekend. The holiday, you know. It was after New Year’s. No one saw her on Saturday and Nita thought she’d skipped church.”

“No sign of foul play?”

“Oh no. Everything was neat as a pin, like always.”

Sounded like my housekeeping standards weren’t quite up to Jodi’s standards. Nita must have been being polite in her comments about how good the house looked this morning. “What about her car?” I asked.

“Still in the garage. No luggage missing, just her purse and keys. She sent Nita an e-mail, saying she’d be out of town for a few days, but Nita always did think that was strange because Jodi was conscientious. It wasn’t like her to leave without planning for it at work. She hadn’t requested any days off.”

“Did she have a boyfriend?” Where were these questions coming from? It wasn’t like I was interested. Oh, who was I kidding? Of course I was interested. Who wouldn’t be, especially after learning I lived in the same house she’d lived in before she’d gone AWOL? And even though I told Mitch I wouldn’t get involved…a girl could ask questions, couldn’t she?

“No. I don’t think so,” Dorthea said. “I never saw her with any boyfriends and Nita says she wasn’t dating anyone seriously.”

Livvy marched up and said, “Mom, can we wrap Geneva’s present now?”

“In a few minutes.”

Dorthea said, “Let’s see if I have something in my pocket.”

She made a big production of digging deep into the pocket of her stretchy elastic-waist jeans, then pulled her hand out and opened it with the flair of a magician. A shiny new quarter caught the sun. “It was so bright and new I thought I’d save it for Livvy, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Oh, I’d better go,” I said. “It looks like Nathan is pulling up our gardenias.”