She blushed a little. “I already told the police everything I know. They stopped by that morning like they did with everyone else on the block.” I nodded, knowing she’d told the cops all she’d gleaned during her hours of surveillance. But my hope was there’d be something that had flown under the radar, some detail that might mean something to me.
“Any strangers hanging around?”
“No, not that I noticed.”
The Visitor was good if he’d eluded Mrs. Tross’s watchful eye. Very good. “How about the day it all happened? Anything odd then?”
Her brow furrowed, and I pictured a server of gossip and reconnaissance being accessed. “The boys went up the hill to school that morning like always. David left for work. Rachel went to the farmers market.” She faltered there, most likely recalling me flipping her off after catching her watching Rachel and me. I fought to keep a straight face. “I didn’t see her come home, but that night I fell asleep early. New medication for my arthritis hit me hard.” She searched her memory for another moment. “That’s all I can recall. Is there a reason you’re asking?”
A field of land mines stretched out before me.
“No, it’s just I heard the shot that night. Thought it was a car backfiring or someone shooting off a firework. I was curious.”
Her eyes narrowed a little, and I could see she was holding back questions. Pointed ones possibly concerning Rachel’s and my schedules and how we sometimes left the neighborhood within ten or fifteen minutes of one another. Dangerous questions.
“How about beforehand?” I said, trying to train her focus elsewhere. “Anyone come by their house prior to that day?”
“Well, sure, lots of people, but just the usual, I suppose. The mailman, UPS, David’s business partner a couple times.” She shrugged a set of bony shoulders.
I withered internally. Another dead end. I’d really hoped she’d seen something or someone, but realistically the police would have already followed up on any potential leads. I was reaching past my skill set again. Trying to be smarter than I really was.
As I started to rise, an excuse to get going forming on my tongue, she tilted her head to one side, another data set being retrieved. “You know, there was one thing that struck me as odd. It was quite a few weeks back, now that I think about it. David came home in the middle of the afternoon one day while Rachel was out. Wasn’t like him to be back before evening. He was a very hard worker, you know?” I settled back into the couch, a tingle of something in my nerve endings. “But that day he was home just after lunch. I remember because I was on the porch having tea. I always have tea at one thirty after the midday news. Another car pulled up to the house after a bit, and I only figured out who it was when I fetched my binoculars. My eyes aren’t so good anymore, you know?”
I’d scooted to the edge of my seat. “Right, you mentioned that.”
“I guess I should’ve known by her car—Lord knows I’ve seen it enough times over the years.”
“Who was it?”
“Well, it was Mary Shelby. Come to think of it, that was the last time I saw her. She died a few days later.”
23
Galaxies colliding. Stars aligning. Gravity settling things into place that only could have fit where they did.
Mrs. Tross was still speaking. “David let her in, and they talked in the living room. I could see them through the window. Mary seemed very . . .” She searched for the word. “Perturbed. I could see it on her face even at a distance, and after a while she was waving her hands around. David looked like he was trying to calm her down. He did this—” She surprised me by reaching across the little table between us and gripping me by the shoulders with surprisingly strong hands. She was in full chin-wagging mode now, finally with a （literal） captive audience. “I think he was comforting her. They talked for a little bit, then she nodded, and he gave her a hug.” She released me and settled back in her seat. “That was it.”
For a second I was lost. Pictures forming and dissolving in the darkroom of my mind. “Did David seem angry?” I finally managed to ask.
“No, not that I could tell. If you ask me, he was just trying to calm her down.”
When I didn’t say anything more, she changed the subject, turning to the latest political gaffe, the weather front coming in, small talk she didn’t get to share with anyone else. I listened, agreeing with whatever she was saying. I might as well have been hearing static.