“I want to see those interviews again,” I said. “Especially the one with Olivia.”
“We’ve seen them all like--” he trailed off when he saw my face.
He cleared his throat and queued it up. We watched the gypsy dancer sit in the kitchen of Mooreland House and talk about her ex-lover’s death. I had seen it so many times now I had it memorized.
“There is nothing there,” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
“You want to see the Chloe one again?” he asked.
“Why did Judith confess?” I mused out loud and then paced the conference room and made more arrows on the whiteboard.
“Blackmail from Malone?” Landon supplied.
“Yeah,” I said. “But what would be so bad, that she would confess to a murder? This is driving me crazy.”
“Stop being crazy,” Vicki stepped into the room. “Give yourself a break. We have to meet with Susan anyway.”
“Susan, Susan,” I searched my memory and scanned the board. “Who is Susan?”
“Susan is our realtor?” she reminded me. “We have our first meeting with her right about now?”
“Right,” I said.
“When you don’t know the difference between your realtor and a suspect,” she began, “that’s when you know you need to take a break.”
I smiled and capped the marker. “You’re right. Where are we meeting her?”
This was a distraction, but by this point my thinking was so muddled that sitting here and wallowing in the details of the case wouldn’t make it any better. Usually in times like this, taking a break is the right thing to do if for no other reason than to clear your head and reset your perspective.
“On the lake,” she said.
“The lake?” I asked dubiously.
“I thought it was serene,” she said.
“Or a place for a murder,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “You really need a break from this case.”
With all the case leads stalled out, it was a good time anyway to leave AJ to hold down the fort.
“Don’t burn the place down,” I told her as I gathered my bag.
“As I recall,” she began to counter, “you came pretty close to that not too long ago, so don’t point fingers at me.”
I laughed as I remembered a couple of months ago, when we were installing cable wiring, the electrical wiring blew and we had no electricity for a few weeks. Vicki and I laughed and headed out to the parking lot.
“So,” I asked Vicki as we settled into my car. “Do we have a list of places?”
“No,” she said. “I couldn’t find anything I liked online, so she said she had a few places to show us, things that were fresh on the market.”
“Sounds promising,” I said. “This one’s on the lake?”
“Yeah,” she said as she programmed it into the GPS. “Twelve minutes away? Yikes.”
“Ugh,” I said. “That’s an eternal commute.”
“Yeah,” she nodded.
Then we both busted out laughing.
“Listen to us,” I said. “We’re so spoiled.”
“I know,” she said. “My California friends would smack me for complaining about a twelve minute commute.”
Twelve minutes later, we arrived at a gated lake community, and a parked red Land Rover.
“That’s Susan,” Vicki said. “Follow her.”
We followed Susan through the gates and the streets of a subdivision. Sprawling suburban houses with generous windows dotted the peaceful streets and family friendly manicured lawns. While going through the neighborhood, I caught a lake view here and there.
“This is a nice community,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess I could see myself living here. I don’t know, though.”
“Me, neither,” I sighed. “I don’t know. Too…”
“Middle America,” she supplied.
I laughed. “Maybe that’s what it is. The new Norman Rockwell. I’m alright with leaving the big city life behind, but minivans, soccer moms, and cul-de-sacs… not feeling it.”
“Me and you both,” she laughed.
Susan kept driving, and she surprisingly led us out of Soccer Mom City into a less cookie-cutter area. We ended at a sandy point right in front of the water. She pulled up to the shore and parked.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The GPS said we’ve already arrived.”
We parked and got out of the car, and I caught my first glance at our realtor. Susan Berwkewitz was a thin woman in her early sixties, and the first thing I noticed was the tremendous pink floppy hat. Then, the pink floral dress.
“So great to see you, darling,” she practically ran up to Vicki and pecked her on both cheeks.
“Hi, Susan,” Vicki greeted her politely.
“And you must be Henry,” she said. “Well, I won’t kiss you, but I’ll settle for a handshake. Good to meet you. Vicki told me all about you. He’s cute, you picked a good one, honey. Hold on to him.”
I shook her hand and tried to make heads or tails of this woman, but before I could respond to one thing, she was on to the next.
“Well,” she said. “Let’s get down to business. I’ve got some great places to show you today. I’m going to take you to some of the best places on the market right now, the hottest properties. This one, I think you will just love. Don’t you?”
She gestured toward the water expectantly. Vicki and I glanced at each other, and I cleared my throat. Susan just stood there with a smile on her face.
“So, what do you think?” she asked.
“Uh,” Vicki finally responded. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m not seeing the house.”
“It’s right there,” she said, “On that island.”
I looked again, and she was right. About a hundred feet into the water, was a small island with a tiny wooden structure built into it.
“What’s that shape?” I asked.
“The concept for the cabin,” she began excitedly, “was the dragon’s eye, rising up from the lake.
