Slob

Twenty minutes later and he's got his long legs stretched out diagonally across the front seat, and wishing he'd brought a thermos of coffee. So far this day is shaping up to be a king-size cipher. So much of police work is in the waiting. Surveillance, to some, can be one of the most hated jobs. A plant is one of the necessary evils in the job. He looks at his watch again. He decides to stick it out another twenty minutes, then go catch a cheeseburger and get some coffee and come back. She's got to come home sometime. There's only one newspaper on the lawn so that's an encouraging sign. No neighbors home yet either. This place would be a natural for some B&E guy who wanted to take down six or seven places in one afternoon, just for the silver and the shotguns, and minimum risk.

Nobody home. No cars in the driveway. Kids' toys all over the yards. Where is everybody? Other than a handful of cars and that pack of kids he hadn't seen a human face. One of the houses had a FOR SALE sign in the yard. Lawn a little shaggy, but every other yard looked like it had been trimmed with a scissors right before the last of the fall grass. Leaves all raked. Neat City. He waited with his mind on hold and watched one of the most beautiful, dazzling sunsets he could remember. The sky high up still lightly blue with a little peach color and then down where he could see the horizon a ribbon of the most beautiful red lighting up the dark bluish gray with a bright, breathtaking slash of color. And he was enjoying looking at it when Edie Lynch drove up into her driveway.

'Are you Mrs. Edward Lynch, ma'am?' he asked her, smiling pleasantly as she turned to face him by her front door.

'Yes.'

'Sorry to bother you again, Mrs. Lynch,' he said, showing his shield and ID as he spoke, 'but we're investigating some related matters and I wonder if I might ask you just a few questions. It wouldn't take but a minute.' She seemed to deflate visibly as he said the words.

'Oh. Yes.'

'Can I help you with those?' he offered.

'Oh, no, that's all right, just let me get this one bag in with the milk and things and—Lee Anne, get that little sack on the backseat for Mommy please—and I can get this.' He took the larger of the sacks from her as she spoke, and she shrugged a thank-you and smiled as he followed the woman into the house, the child running up the sidewalk after them with a sack of what looked like paper towels.

'That's fine,' she said, 'just sit it down there, thanks.'

'Go ahead and put your groceries away, ma'am, no problem.'

'That's okay. Just—uh, Lee, honey, go in and start cleaning up your room now, please, and I'll get the other things.' She turned back to Eichord. 'I don't want to talk about it in front of— '

'I understand. I won't take up much of your time here, but I'm just coming on board this investigation and if you can I'd just like to go over some old ground with you from the time of the tragedy that happened. Just to make sure I have all the information.'

'They asked so many questions back then and I'm sure you'll have more than I'll be able to remember now down there in your reports, but I'll try to answer whatever I can of course.' She was obviously very tired. He didn't ask but he wondered where they'd been for the last few days.

Glancing down at the report cover he was holding, he began without any hesitancy, getting right after it. 'I have to take you back to some sad, painful old ground, and I want to ask you to help me reconstruct that evening,' he began softly, soothingly, speaking in measured tones, building a layer of trust as he always did. Within a few minutes he'd be calling her by her first name, asking her calm, easy questions in preparation for the heavy stuff that was his sole reason for going back to this ancient, cold trail.

She repeated all the information that she'd given countless times before, embellishing one or two things, forgetting here and there, very straightforward in her willingness to retrace the ordinary events that had led up to that fateful night as well as she could remember them. And then he pitched her his change-up, and the long, slow curve that preceded his high hard one.

'What were his exact words if you can recall when he left that night?'

'He said he was going out for cigarettes and he'd be right back.'

'No. Edie try to tell me the exact way he said it to you that night.'

'Well . . . he said.' She paused, trying to get it right. 'I'm going to run down to the 7-Eleven and get some cigarettes. Do you need anything?'

'And you said what?'

'I said no thanks,' she said, shaking her head.

'How much did Ed smoke—how many packs a day, do you remember?'

'Not too much, I guess. He never smoked over two packs a day.'

'Do you remember the brand?'

'Parliaments,' she said, somewhat exasperated at the question.

'Edie when Ed was found he had a half a pack of Parliaments in his pocket. We found cigarettes here in the house according to the reports. Now, that could just mean that he hadn't had a chance to get to the store yet when he was attacked. But it could have another meaning.' She raised her eyebrows and made a little frown of irritation. He let the pitch go. 'It could also mean that Ed wasn't going out for smokes that night.'

'What do you mean?'

'What it could mean is that he'd gone to meet somebody.'

'No. He said he was going to the store, I just told you that.'

'But husbands don't always tell their wives the truth.' He was watching her very carefully, boring into her with those hard eyes and keen reason.

'Well, Ed and I weren't like that. He was always truthful with me.'

'What if—just to make a hypothetical situation, Edie—what if he'd wanted to meet someone that night. Another woman, for example, and he didn't want you to know. How certain are you that he wasn't going out to meet someone that night?'

'That's the most ridiculous question anyone ever asked me. We had a good marriage and Ed was a fine, upstanding man. I can't imagine why you would come around asking something like that.'

'I apologize,' he said to her softly, 'but I have to ask that question for this reason. The man who attacked your husband may have begun committing crimes again. If there is a chance that there might have been some other witness that night, someone who might have seen—oh, let's say someone suspicious looking and they could help us in that regard, I know you'd want us to have that information.'

'I can assure you that isn't a possibility. Ed was going to the store that night and that's all there was to it.'

He ever so gently began turning the questions back around to the safer area, times, places, things she'd be more comfortable answering. Slowly some of the strain and irritation went out of her face and he was getting ready to wrap it up, hoping to leave a less bitter taste as he faded back out of her life, when an irrepressible bundle of cuteness came bounding down the stairs and came up saying, 'Hi! Mom can we eat now?'

'Hi,' he said, smiling, as her mom shook her head.

'No, dear, we'll be eating soon. This is my daughter Lee Anne, Mr.—'

'Eichord. Jack Eichord.'

'Mr. Eichord is a detective working on Dad's case.'

'Mr. Acorn?' she repeated quizzically.

'Eye-cord,' her mother corrected.

'I'll bet you never heard that name before, did you?' he said. She shook her head in response shyly, smiling, standing very close, one of those people who will go through life never meeting a stranger.

'Lee Anne is a pretty name.'

'Thank you.'

'How old are you?'

'I'll be nine.'

'That's a great age to be. Do you like school?'

'Uh-huh. I like Mrs. Spencer the best of all. Are you a real detective that's like on television?'

'I'm a real detective.'

'Can you come talk to my bear. He's been very bad and needs to have a police detective investigate