is horrible, I shouldn’t even be asking you this…”
“Belinda.”
“I wondered if maybe it had been in her purse, that’s all.”
“I went through her belongings, Belinda. I didn’t notice any envelope.”
“A brown business envelope. Oversized, you know.”
“I didn’t see anything like that. What was in it?”
She hesitated. “I’m sorry?”
“I said, what was in it?”
“Um, there was a bit of cash in it. Sheila was going to pick up something for me next time she was in the city.”
“In the city? New York?”
“That’s right.”
“Sheila didn’t go into New York all that often.”
“I think she’d been planning a girls’ day out, a shopping trip, and there was something I was going to have her get for me.”
“I can’t see you missing out on a trip like that.”
Belinda laughed nervously. “Well, that week was pretty hectic for me and I didn’t think I was going to be able to make it.”
“How much was in the envelope?”
Another pause. “Not that much, just a little.”
“I didn’t see anything like that,” I said. “It might have burned up in the car, but if it was in her purse, it would have survived. Did Sheila tell you she was going into the city that day?”
“That was… that was the sense I had, Glen.”
“She told me she had some errands to run, but she didn’t mention anything about going into Manhattan.”
“Listen, Glen, I never should have even brought this up. I should let you go. I’m so sorry for calling.”
She didn’t even wait for me to say goodbye. She just hung up.
I still had the receiver in my hand, debating with myself again whether to call Ann Slocum and give her hell for the way she’d treated Kelly, when I heard the doorbell ring upstairs.
It was Joan Mueller. Her hair, freed from its ponytail, was falling on her shoulders, and she had on a snug, scooped T that revealed a hint of a purple lace bra.
“I saw you pull in a little while ago and saw the lights were on,” she said once I had the door open.
“I had to pick up Kelly at a friend’s,” I told her.
“She’s gone to bed?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Did you want to step in?” I regretted it as soon as I suggested it.
“Well, okay,” she said brightly, brushing me as she went past. She stood at the entrance to the living room, wondering, maybe, whether I was going to invite her to sit down. “Thanks. I love Friday nights. No kids getting dropped off in the morning. That’s the good part. Not knowing what to do with myself, that’s the tough part.”
“What can I do for you, Joan? I haven’t forgotten your kitchen tap.”
She smiled. “I just wanted to thank you for earlier.” She stuck her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, her thumbs tucked into the belt loops.
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“I kind of used you,” she said, and grinned. “Like a bodyguard.” She had to be talking about when Carl Bain showed up. “I needed a big strong man beside me, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t think I do.”
“The two parts of my day I hate the most are when Carl drops off his kid and when he picks him up at the end of the day. He creeps me out, that guy. I get this bad vibe off him, you know? Like he’s just waiting to blow up?”
“Has he said something to you? Threatened you?”
She slipped her hands out of her pockets and waved them about as she answered. “Okay, the thing is, I think he’s worried about what his kid might be saying when he comes over. Carlson, he’s just a little guy, and they say whatever comes into their head, you know?”
“Sure.”
“And the odd time, he’ll say something about his mother. Alicia? That’s the mother’s name. Although he calls her his mommy, he doesn’t call her Alicia.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Like I need to tell you that. Anyway, sometimes, you know, you ask a kid, Hey, what’s your mother doing today? And this one time, he says his mother had to go to the hospital because she broke her arm. And I’m like, Oh no, how did she do that, and Carlson says because his dad pushed her down the stairs.”
“Jeez.”
“Yeah, no shit? But the next day, he says to me, he was wrong. She didn’t get pushed down the stairs. His dad told him that his mommy tripped. So I figure, he must have gone home, right? And said to his dad, Oh, I was telling the babysitter about Mommy going to the hospital after she got shoved down the stairs, and he must have freaked, tells his kid that he’s got it all wrong, she tripped.” She stuck out her lower lip and blew out hard enough that a few strands of hair momentarily floated.
“So every day he comes by, you think he’s wondering what you’re thinking,” I said.
“Kinda, yeah.”
“When did the boy say this?”
“First time he mentioned it was around three, four weeks ago. He-the dad, Carl, I mean-seemed okay, but lately, he’s been kind of on edge, asking me, did I make any phone calls or anything?”
“Phone calls about what?”
“He didn’t say. But I wonder if someone might have called the police about him or something.”
“Did you?”
She shook her head very slowly. “No way. I mean, I thought about it, Glen. But the thing is, I can’t afford to lose a customer, you know what I’m saying? I need every one of those kids, at least till the money from the oil company comes through. I just don’t want Carl taking it out on me, if someone did put in a call to the police. And I thought, if he knew I had a strong man living next door to me, maybe he’d think twice before he did anything like that.”
I thought she put a little emphasis on “strong man.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” I said.
She tilted her head to one side and looked me in the eye. “It’s going to come in, you know. I mean, eventually. And it’s going to be a good settlement. I’ll be pretty well fixed.”
“That’s good,” I said. “It’s about time.”
She let that hang out there a moment. “Anyway, what I wondered was, you don’t think Sheila might have reported him, do you?”
“Sheila?”
“I was talking to her, I guess a few days before the accident and all, wondering what I should do about what Carlson said had happened to his mother, thinking it was kind of a bad thing, knowing some woman got her arm broke and not doing anything about it. I was saying, you think I should make an anonymous call kind of thing, and if they arrested him, did she think I’d still get to babysit Carlson?”
“You talked about this with Sheila?”
Joan nodded. “Just the once. Did she mention anything to you about this? That she was thinking of calling the police or anything?”
“No,” I said. “She never did.”
Joan nodded again. “She mentioned you were under a lot of stress, with that house you were building that burned down. Maybe she didn’t want to burden you with it.”
She sighed and slapped her hands on her thighs. “Anyway, look, I should go. What a joy, right? Your neighbor bringing her problems over late at night.” She slipped into a mocking voice. “Hey, neighbor, got a cup of sugar and by the way could you be my bodyguard?” She laughed, then stopped abruptly. “So, I’ll see you,” she said.
I watched her walk back to her house.
