“Did she charge you?”
“No, she offered to help for free.”
“And what time did you finish?”
“One o’clock. I’m sure about that because Adrian was here, too. On his lunch break. He had to leave to get back to work. And that was the last time I saw her.”
“Do you remember what she was wearing?”
“Gray pants, purple top. Long sleeves. Everything very loose and flowy. And lots of jewelry—rings, necklaces, bracelets. Mitzi always wears lots of jewelry.”
“That’s interesting.”
“Why?”
Briggs shrugs. “She’s not wearing any now. She’s not even wearing shoes. Just a nightgown. Was Mitzi the sort of woman who’d go walking outside in her nightgown?”
“No, I’d actually say she’s the opposite. She put a lot of effort into her appearance. It was a weird look but it’s her look, if you know what I mean.”
“Could she have had dementia?”
“No. Mitzi worried about a lot of different things, but her mind was sharp.”
“So why were you inside her house just now?”
“Well, this will probably sound stupid, but I had a question about the séance. We wondered if maybe the spirit was using a different language, and that’s why the letters didn’t spell anything. We wanted to ask Mitzi if that was a possibility. The back door was open so I knew she had to be home. Adrian thought she might be hurt, so we went in the house to see if she was okay.”
“Did you touch anything? Did you handle any of her possessions?”
“I opened her bedroom door. To see if she was sleeping. And I guess I muted her TV. She had it going so loud, we couldn’t hear anything else.”
Briggs looks down to my waist, and I realize she’s studying my pockets. “Did you take anything from the house?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then would you mind turning your pockets inside out? I believe you’re telling the truth, but it’s better for everyone if I check.”
I’m glad that Adrian kept the notes from the séance, so I don’t have to lie about them.
“Those are all my questions right now,” she says. “Do you have any information that might help me?”
“I wish I did. Do you know what happened?”
She shrugs. “There’s no sign of injury. I don’t think anyone hurt her. And when you find the body of an old person outdoors? Dressed in their nightclothes? Usually it’s some kind of medication error. They mixed up their pills or took a double dose. Did she ever mention any prescriptions?”
“No,” I tell her, which is the honest answer. I’m tempted to mention the needle caps and the tourniquet and the pungent odor of burned rope that trailed Mitzi like a cloud. But surely Briggs will discover all these things on her own, after a short ′tour of the house.
“Well, I appreciate your time. And would you mind sending over the Maxwells? Ted and Caroline? I want to speak to all the neighbors.”
I explain that they’ve gone to the beach for the day, but I pass along their cell phone numbers. “They didn’t know Mitzi well, but I’m sure they’ll help if they can.”
She turns to leave—then thinks better of it and stops. “This last question is a little off-topic but I have to know: Who’s the ghost you were trying to reach?”
“Her name was Annie Barrett. Supposedly she lived in my cottage. Back in the 1940s. People say—”
Briggs starts nodding. “Oh, I know all about Annie Barrett. I’m a local girl, I grew up in Corrigan, on the other side of these woods. But my daddy always said that story was a fish tale. That was his way of describing a trumped-up story, like a whopper.”
“Annie Barrett was real. I have a book of her paintings. Everyone in Spring Brook knows about her.”
Detective Briggs seems inclined to disagree but instead she holds her tongue. “I’m not going to spoil a good story. Especially when there’s an even bigger mystery out in those woods right now.” She hands me a business card. “If you think of anything else, call me.”
* * *
Adrian and I spend the next hour or so sitting out by the pool, watching the circus in Mitzi’s backyard and waiting for new developments. It’s clearly a huge deal for Spring Brook because the backyard is teeming with cops, firefighters, EMTs, and a man whom Adrian identifies as the mayor. No one seems to be doing very much; it’s just a lot of people talking and standing around. But eventually four somber-faced EMTs emerge from the forest carrying a zippered polyvinyl bag on a stretcher, and soon after that the crowd starts to thin.