After picking up her dogs at Cordelia’s house, Jane drove home through the sunny winter afternoon. Retrieving her mail from the box inside the front closet, she glanced through it for a few seconds, then headed for the kitchen, where she let the dogs out into the backyard. She watched them out the kitchen window as she made herself a sandwich. When they came up to the back porch, barking to be let in, she dried their feet and put down some kibble and fresh water.
It was going on two. Lena’s friend, Karen Ritter, was stopping by around six. Instead of going upstairs to her bed, Jane built a fire in the living room fireplace. She curled up on the couch to watch the logs burn. Mouse eventually came in and took up his usual place on the rug in front of the hearth. Gimlet hopped up on the couch and nestled down next to her, burying her nose under Jane’s arm. As the fire crackled and snapped, and the logs shifted in the grate, Jane drifted off to sleep.
She woke several hours later to the sound of a doorbell.
Mouse and Gimlet raced into the foyer as Jane, running a hand through her hair, followed behind. “You two be good now,” she said. “Sit.”
Mouse sat. Gimlet jumped up and down.
“Gimlet,” said Jane, pointing a finger at her. “Sit.” They’d been practicing this for weeks, mainly for Gimlet’s benefit.
Looking momentarily chastened, Gimlet sat down.
“Good. Now stay.” Jane opened the door.
“I’m sorry, I’m early,” said a woman in a camel wool coat.
“Karen?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Not a problem,” said Jane. “Thanks so much for coming.” While she’d been asleep, the bright afternoon had faded into night.
“Oh, you have dogs,” said Karen, hesitating.
“I can put them in the kitchen, if you want. Not everyone likes dogs.”
“Are they friendly?”
“Very,” said Jane.
“Then I’m fine,” said Karen. “I wasn’t sure I had the right house. The streets get kind of tangled around here.”
Jane released Mouse and Gimlet, who rushed up to Karen to sniff and nudge her hands. Once everyone was done saying hello, Jane led the way into the living room. The fire had long ago burned down to ash, though there were a couple glowing coals still giving off tiny bit of heat. As she took Karen’s coat and draped it over one of the chairs by the picture window, she motioned her to the couch.
“The reason I’m early,” said Karen, sitting down, “is that my daughter called a few minutes ago. She unexpectedly got the evening off and wondered if I’d like to get together for dinner. I said I’d make a meatloaf, so I’ve only got a few minutes.”
Jane sat in the rocker next to the hearth, the dogs hunkering down around her feet. “This won’t take long,” she said, feeling a flutter in her stomach. She knew that, before she could begin the conversation, she had to tell her about Lena.
“Dead?” said Karen after she’d heard the news, narrowing her eyes as she gazed up at the mirror above the mantel. “I … I had no idea.”
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” said Jane.
“No, I understand. It’s just … so sudden. So unexpected.” She paused to remove her glasses so she could wipe her eyes. “You said you found her? Was it an accident?”
“I haven’t heard the final word on that. One of the policemen at the scene thought it might be suicide.”
“Oh,” she said, just above a whisper.
“Were you two close?”
“Well, no, not for many years. We were friends on Facebook, though that’s not saying much. I haven’t seen her in person since—let me think.” She glanced down at the dogs. “Probably the mid-nineties. We met when we were both waitressing at the Lexington Grill on Grand Avenue in Saint Paul. Do you know it?”
“I’ve eaten there many times,” said Jane. It was one of her father’s favorites.
“We worked together for, oh maybe six months before she quit. Even after she left, we stayed friends. I was a dozen years younger, but it didn’t seem to matter because we had so much in common. We double-dated a lot. She always had a new guy. Me, I stuck with the same one.”
“What was Lena like back then?”
“Oh, my,” said Karen. “Wild and crazy. She had a motorcycle, liked to go off for weeks at a time. She’d work a while, build up her savings, then quit and take off for parts unknown. Sometimes with a guy, sometimes alone. She wasn’t the deep thinker type, but she read a lot, mostly science fiction and fantasy. She drank a lot back then, too. She was really beautiful, at least in my opinion. Always reminded me of Demi Moore. And she was funny. Loved music, especially rock. We were always going to one concert or another.”
Karen stopped and smiled at a memory. “When I first met her, she was living on ramen noodles and bananas. Hated to cook. She was fun to be around—unless she’d had too much to drink. I never understood that. I mean, she had so much going for her. I know she didn’t get along with her sisters. Eleanor was the older one. I met her once and, at least to me, she seemed really nice. She was a nurse, if I remember correctly. Kind of religious, but then, I was raised a Missouri Synod Lutheran, so I had the same background. Never met the younger sister. I think her name was Paula. They’d both gone to college and Lena never had. After a while it occurred to me that she must have felt embarrassed by that, like she hadn’t lived up to family expectations. She saw herself as the black sheep, that’s for sure, and she was darn sure she was going to live up—or down—to that. I know it hit her hard when her dad died. She’d been really close to him, especially when she was younger.”
“Do you know why Lena and Eleanor didn’t get along?”
“Some history they had together. Bad blood, you know? It included the other sister, too, although Lena was pretty tight-lipped about it.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I just can’t believe she’s gone. And suicide? No.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Jane.
“Just … because of something that happened once.”
Jane waited to see if she’d elaborate. When she didn’t, she continued, “Lena made a friend of one of her neighbors. A guy named Butch. I talked to him early this morning, after the ambulance took Lena away. He said he didn’t believe it was suicide either. He told me she had plans, that she seemed upbeat. I suppose it could have been an accident.”
“That’s more likely,” agreed Karen. “Suicide doesn’t make sense.”
“Why?” asked Jane.
She looked away. “Just between you and me, she tried it once. I suppose some would say that first attempt makes a second attempt more likely.”
This was news to Jane. “Can you tell me more?”
“It was such a long time ago.” She sighed. “Lena was living in an apartment just a few blocks from my place. We had keys to each other’s buildings. They both had security at the front door, with buzzers to let people in. Sometimes the buzzers didn’t work. It was a real pain. Lena liked to sit up on the roof. Sometimes she’d sunbathe or read a book. There was a padlock on the door up there, but it was always open. On nice summer evenings when we weren’t working, we’d buy a bottle of wine, spread a blanket, and play cards. If I came by and she wasn’t around, I’d always go up to see if she was there. She had a fear of heights, but if she stayed away from the edge, she was okay. One night when I climbed the stairs and ducked under the small doorway, I was surprised to see her standing close to the edge. She was kind of swaying, so I was terrified she’d fall. I called out to her to get away, to come back to where I was standing. She didn’t turn around and hollered for me to get lost. Her words were slurred, so I was positive she was drunk. I refused to go. That’s when she started cursing, yelling about what a loser she was, how she was stupid and worthless, that she didn’t deserve to live. She said there was nothing I could do or say to stop her from jumping. I kept talking, kept trying to engage her. It took some time, but she finally backed away from the ledge. I helped her down to her apartment, put her to bed, and decided I’d better spend the night. The next morning we talked about it. She made me a promise that she’d never do it again—not like that.” Here, Karen stopped.
“What did she mean?” asked Jane.
“She said that if she ever tried to kill herself again, it wouldn’t be during the dark of night after she’d been drinking. She promised, if she did try, that it would be on a beautiful, sunny morning, with the birds singing. She said it was the only way she’d know for sure that she was really serious, that it wasn’t just a whim or a momentary bout of depression. She swore it to me, Jane, on everything she held dear, and I believed her.”
Jane was still curious. “Did something motivate that first attempt? A bad breakup with a boyfriend?”
“No. I mean, she dated all the time. I would imagine she had her share of one-night stands. She liked the attention, but she never trusted men. If they got too serious, she’d dump them and move on. No, it had nothing to do with a breakup. She never really gave me a reason. Most of the time, you’d get the impression that she thought really highly of herself. But then, when she’d been drinking, the self-loathing would come out. It was hard to watch.”
“What caused the rift in your friendship?”
“There wasn’t a rift, per se. My boyfriend eventually popped the question. I asked Lena to be one of my bridesmaids. She agreed to do it, but backed out a few weeks before the wedding. I was pretty upset. When I confronted her, she told me that Eleanor had been diagnosed with cancer and that she planned to move into the old family house to take care of her. I couldn’t exactly get mad about that, although I didn’t really understand it since there seemed to be such a deep level of antagonism between them. And then, after I had my first child, Lena simply evaporated from my life. She’d always been clear that she didn’t like kids, and that’s what my life revolved around. I guess I just let her go.” She checked her watch. “Oh, look at the time. Was there anything else you wanted to ask? I don’t really know much about her life these days, just what I read on Facebook.”
Jane rose to help Karen on with her coat. “This has been helpful. If I find that I have a few more questions, perhaps I could give you a call.”
“Of course,” said Karen. As they entered the foyer, she stopped and turned to face Jane. “Tell me this before I go. You said you’d been hired by Lena’s niece to investigate the family. I’m assuming you can’t say much about that.”
“No,” said Jane. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay, but, can you at least give me your thoughts on Lena’s death. Do you think it was suicide?”
Jane figured she owed Karen that much. “You have to understand, this is just my opinion. But honestly? No, I don’t.”
“An accident then?”
“Possible, but unlikely.”
“So what does that leave?” asked Karen.
Jane hadn’t yet said out loud the word she’d been thinking quietly inside her mind. Now that she was about to, it took on a horrifying force. “Murder,” she said, watching the shock bloom in Karen’s eyes.