“My grandma’s house had one of those slots in the medicine cabinet,” he mused, kneeling down on the floor. “Any idea how that wallet could have gotten back there?”
“Only way we can figure is that someone shoved it through that slot,” Hattie said.
Makarowicz stood up slowly. “Do I wanna know what happened to the slot?”
“It’s gone,” Hattie said apologetically. “I kinda sledgehammered it. What’s left of it is out in the dumpster.”
“Under a couple dozen loads of debris,” Cass added.
“Figures.” He gestured toward the back door. “What’s outside?”
Hattie opened the door and the three of them walked onto the back porch. “See for yourself. I’m not sure when was the last time anybody lived in this house. But beyond all this jungle, there’s a little beach, and of course, the Back River. There’s an old dock and boathouse, too, but I haven’t walked out onto it, because I don’t know how safe it is.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot this is waterfront.” Makarowicz shot her a rueful smile. “I’m kind of new to Tybee. Still getting my bearings.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Moved down here six months ago, after I retired from the Atlanta Police Department. I did twenty-seven years. Detective the last eighteen, but the stress and Atlanta traffic were getting to me. High blood pressure. It was my wife’s idea to come down here to Tybee for some peace and quiet.”
“You retired and then went right back to work again as a cop?”
“Not at first. Hell of a thing. We moved down here for my health, and damned if Jenny wasn’t the one…”
Hattie saw the haunted look in his eyes. She waited.
Mak looked off toward the river. “Up and died on me. Heart attack.” He snapped his fingers. “Gone. Just like that. Suddenly, I had way too much time on my hands.”
“I know how that is,” Hattie said, touching his arm. “I lost my husband in a motorcycle accident seven years ago.”
“Jesus!” he exclaimed. “You’re so young. Not even thirty, right?”
“I’m thirty-three,” she said. “But Tybee must be pretty boring after Atlanta.”
“Oh no, lots of excitement. Already today I picked up a punk for taking a piss in some old lady’s front yard on Jones Street, and then I took a stolen bike report from a college girl who, it turns out, was so drunk she forgot the rental company came and picked it up last night.”
“A regular crime spree,” Hattie said.
Makarowicz held up the evidence bag. “Tell me this. Was she ever found?”
“Not that we know of,” Cass said. “And we probably would have heard.”
“St. Mary’s is the Catholic girls’ high school, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” Hattie said. “My mother and grandmother graduated from there.”
“My mom did too,” Cass added.
“I’ve got a daughter who’s about your age,” Makarowicz said. “I remember when Lorna was in high school. Lots of gossip. Lots of drama. At the time, what did all you girls think happened to this Mrs. Ragan?”
“Some people thought she ran away with a man,” Cass said.
“So, a married woman runs off with another dude. Not a very original concept.”
“I never believed that,” Hattie said. “Her husband was the hot football coach at Cardinal Mooney, that’s the Catholic boys’ prep school. They were really a cute couple.”
“And she had a little girl,” Cass added. “She talked about Emma all the time in class.”
He’d taken a small notebook from his pocket and was jotting down notes. “Did she have any ties to this house that you know of?”
“Maybe,” Hattie said. “The family that owned this house—the Creedmores? Their kids all went to St. Mary’s and Cardinal Mooney, and I think Holland played football for Coach Ragan. He was a couple years older.”
“Creedmores? Do any of them still live in the area?”
“Yeah,” Cass said. “Mavis, kind of the matriarch, goes to church with my mom.”
“Holland Junior lives here too,” Hattie said. “I had a run-in with him last week, at city hall.”
“What was that all about?” Makarowicz asked, still taking notes.
“He wasn’t happy that I was able to buy the house. After the family basically abandoned it, the city condemned the property and put it up for sale, with sealed bids. It was all perfectly legal, but he was furious. Threatened to sue the city, then yelled at me, then offered fifty thousand to buy it from me outright.”