Jo woke early the next morning with her thoughts going in several directions at once. Had she actually slept? she wondered, or had her brain simply kept on running after her eyes had closed, like a factory chugging on with its night shift. If only her brain had been as productive. What she woke to seemed more of a tangle of raw material than any finished product. Now she had to sort through and try to make some sense out of it.
Making her way to the kitchen and the coffee pot, she thought about how she wished she could have seen Russ the night before. She had called before closing the Craft Corner, hoping to run over, but caught him in the midst of a noisy gathering, all the off-duty people from the station having apparently decided to visit him at the same time.
“This crew doesn’t look like they’ll be leaving for a while,” he had said, then suggested, “Why don’t you hold off until tomorrow?” which sounded like the most reasonable thing to do, though Jo hadn’t liked it much. She had tried to comfort herself later at home with a scoop or two of Cherry Garcia from her freezer. But, not surprisingly, it hadn’t done the trick.
Jo hadn’t heard back from Gabe, but Loralee called her to say that she was heading home, and that Kevin’s condition had not changed. As Jo scooped out coffee grounds, she wondered once again what Kevin might have known about Bill Ewing that he had only hinted to Meg. If Kevin hadn’t seen fit to confide in his wife, might there have been a friend that he had? Jo realized she wanted to know more about Meg’s husband. The best place she could think of to begin would be with his neighbors, most of whom she might be able to catch at home on this Saturday morning.
But where did Meg live? Jo didn’t know, but Ruthie, of course, did, and the Abbot’s Kitchen opened early for coffee and breakfast buns. If Jo stopped there before heading to the Craft Corner, she could check with Ruthie and maybe even have time to run out to Meg’s neighborhood. After plugging in her coffee maker to get it started, Jo went off to get herself started with a shower. It looked like she’d need a brisk one, as her day was once again going to be full.
<><><>
“Meg’s address?” Ruthie handed a breakfast croissant and coffee over to one of her early-bird customers, a middle-aged man dressed for golf, who, to Jo’s relief, hadn’t given Jo a second glance when she joined him at the counter. Apparently not everyone in town gave a hoot about whatever gossip may be flying around about her. “Hold on a sec’,” Ruthie said. “I’ll be right back.”
Ruthie disappeared into the back of the Abbot’s Kitchen, returning soon with Meg’s job application form. “Shame what’s happening with her husband. You planning to take a fruit basket or something to the house?”
“No. I believe Meg’s been spending most of her time at the hospital while Kevin is in this coma.” Jo looked at the address Meg had filled in: 422 Asher Court, Abbottsville, MD She scribbled it down on a scrap of paper, then asked Ruthie, “Any idea where Asher Court is?”
“It connects to Ridgeway Avenue. Just a short ways past the Post Office.”
“Great, that should be easy to find.” Jo tucked the paper away. “I hope things haven’t been too busy for you without Meg to help?”
“Oh, we’ve been managing,” Ruthie said, with a slightly odd look on her face. Before Jo could ask about it, another customer came forward to give his order, so she said a quick thank-you and took off. She checked her watch as she left the sandwich shop. Did she have time to get over to Meg’s neighborhood and talk to a few people before the Craft Corner needed to be opened? Maybe she should make sure Carrie could cover for her.
“Sure, Jo, no problem.” Carrie said after Jo called her from inside her car and explained what she needed time for. “Though from the impression I have of Kevin Boyer, I can’t picture him being on close terms with his neighbors.”
“Well, if that’s the case, at least I will have learned that much about him. I’ll try not to be too long.” Jo hung up and pulled away from the sandwich shop, heading for Asher Court.
Meg’s house was a modest, one-story ranch style that looked at least a couple of decades old. Jo had no idea what Kevin’s job paid, but, from what she understood, his had been the only income for the household until very recently, and Jo well understood the challenges of stretching a single income to cover all expenses. Meg had only lately stepped out to take her part-time job at the Abbot’s Kitchen. If she had been somehow held back from working until then, the downside of that showed in the condition of their house, whose siding looked in need of painting, if not replacement, and whose driveway was cracked and in need of resurfacing.
Jo parked in front of the house, and wondered which of the surrounding ones to try. As she pondered, the garage door of the house to the left began to rise. In moments a man stepped out, pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with tools and inadvertently making Jo’s decision for her. She climbed out of her car.
“Good morning,” Jo called, walking toward the weekend gardener. She saw, as she drew closer, that a bag of mulch also lined the wheelbarrow.
The man, grey-haired but slim and fit, paused in his forward movement and responded to her guardedly, possibly expecting a sales pitch of some kind. Jo quickly introduced herself and explained that she was a friend of Meg’s. This brought a relaxation of the furrow between the man’s brows, and he introduced himself as Jack McKendry.
“How’s Kevin doing?” he asked.
“Not too well, I’m afraid. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”
McKendry shook his head sympathetically. “That was quite a scare yesterday,” McKendry said, his face reflecting the anxiety he must have felt at the time. “I was out here working on my bushes – I’m retired, now,” he explained. “Anyway, I happened to look over and there he was, sprawled on his driveway. At first I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought, but it sure surprised me. I saw his wife’s car was gone, so I went over to ask was he all right, but all he did was groan. I hustled back to the house and called for an ambulance. Best I could do. I don’t know anything about first aid.”
“That was exactly the right thing to do,” Jo assured him, which drew an appreciative smile. “Do you know Kevin well? I mean, are you friends beyond the ‘nod and wave’ level?”
“Friends? I don’t know.” McKendry shook his head. “We never saw much of him, with him traveling so much and all. I can’t say I knew him very well, no. Why, you planning some kind of ‘Welcome Home’ party for when he gets out? We’ll be glad to come, of course, but – ”
“No, nothing like that. I’ve never actually met Kevin. But I needed to know something about his time in the army, and hated to bother Meg at a time like this. So I guess you never got into conversation with him about his time spent at Fort Leonard Wood?”
“Afraid not. Rick Gurney, across the street there,” McKendry said, pointing out a beige two-story, “might be able to help you. I saw them talking together a few times. But I never even knew Kevin was in the army. Wouldn’t have guessed it, to tell the truth, a guy like him.”
“Oh?”
“Well, you know,” McKendry said, then shook his head. “That’s right, you said you never met him. And maybe I’ve just got an old-fashioned, outdated idea of what army material is. They probably need all types now-a-days.”
“What type would you say Kevin was?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” McKendry said, beginning to look sorry he’d got himself onto the subject. He obviously wasn’t someone who was comfortable analyzing casual acquaintances. “Bookish, maybe? Quiet, anyway, and not real athletic. But as I say, they probably have a use for all types.” He started fiddling with the tools stacked in his wheelbarrow.
“Well, thanks,” Jo said, taking the hint. “I’ll run over and give Rick Gurney a try and let you get to work.” She noticed that a pick-up sat in the driveway of the house McKendry had indicated, which looked hopeful for finding somebody at home.
“Yeah, Rick should be able to help you.” McKendry gave her a big smile then, and whether he was wishing her luck or just happy to be rid of her Jo couldn’t tell. But she thanked him again and crossed the street to knock on the door of the beige house.
As she waited, a light blue sedan came down Asher Court and pulled into the drive behind the pick-up. A slim, red-haired woman of about forty, wearing jeans and a yellow pullover climbed out holding a plastic grocery bag. She looked at Jo curiously, and Jo stepped off of the house’s stoop, ready with her explanation. But Jack McKendry beat her to it, calling out helpfully from his yard, “Susan, that there’s Jo. She’s a friend of Meg’s and wants to talk to Rick.”
Susan Gurney immediately smiled and Jo waved gratefully to Jack McKendry. She was happy not have had her full name mentioned, which avoided the possibility of Susan Gurney recognizing her as that woman who’s under suspicion of murder.
“Rick’s probably in the basement,” Susan said, closing her car door, “which is why he’s not answering the door. You’re a friend of Meg’s? How is Kevin? I heard about what happened yesterday.”
Jo told her what she had told Jack McKendry, and Susan reacted much the same, shaking her head in sympathy as she crossed in front of Jo to open her front door. “C’mon in,” she invited. “I’ll get Rick for you.”
As Jo followed Susan into the house she picked up the aroma of cooked bacon. The scent grew stronger as they made their way down the short hall to the kitchen, which sported dirty breakfast dishes on the table and a greasy frying pan on the stove.
“That man,” Susan said with good-natured exasperation. “Can’t pick up a thing for himself.” She set her bag on the counter, then took the few steps over to a door at the other end of the kitchen and pulled it open. “Rick! You down there? Someone here to see you.”
Jo heard a muffled response that sounded close to, ‘Be right up,’ and said to Susan, “I hope I’m not interrupting him from anything important.”
Susan flapped a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Saturday mornings he likes to putter down there. He claims he’s working on a project, but it’s mostly just puttering. I don’t mind. It’s his way of relaxing. I just wish,” she said with an eye roll, “he’d put a few things in the dishwasher first.”
She unloaded her grocery bag, chatting in a friendly way as she did. “We’re going to a potluck dinner tonight, so I picked up a few things after I dropped the kids off at soccer practice. Want some coffee? There’s some here I can heat up.”
“No, thanks.” Jo handed Rick’s breakfast plate and mug over to Susan who had started tidying up. “Did you know Meg and Kevin well?”
“Well?” Susan paused thoughtfully, Rick’s dishes in hand. “Not as well as you’d think I should, living right across the street from them and all.” She scraped crumbs from the plate into her sink before loading it into her dishwasher. “Of course, we’ve only been here about a year or so, and they don’t have kids to come play with our kids. They kind of keep to themselves anyway, though. Except when Kevin came over sometimes to ask Rick’s advice on his furnace. They seemed to have a lot of trouble with their furnace.”
“Yeah.” Rick suddenly stepped out of the basement, dressed in sweatshirt and jeans. He was a tall, husky man with a receding hairline and friendly face. He wiped his hands on a brown-stained rag. “That furnace of his is on its last legs. I told Kev he’ll need to get a new one before next winter comes around.”
“Jo, this is my dishwashing-challenged husband Rick. Jo is a friend of Meg’s.”
“Yeah? How’s Kev doing?’
Jo told him, and Kevin said to his wife, “We should get over to the hospital. Take him something. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, we should,” Susan agreed, looking less than eager.
“So, you were good friends with Kevin,” Jo asked, beginning to seriously doubt that.
“Oh, yeah!” Rick insisted. “He’s a great guy.”
“They had a few beers together,” Susan clarified. “After talking furnace-talk.”
“Did he ever tell you about his time in the army? When he was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood?”
“The army? Uh, I don’t remember him ever mentioning that. Why, do they need some records or something at the hospital? Meg probably can tell them whatever they need.”
“Yes, you’re probably right.” Jo sighed inwardly. Rick obviously wasn’t the confidante of Kevin that she hoped he’d be. “I guess I thought I could save her a little trouble. But thanks.” She picked up her pocketbook and turned toward the hall, Rick moving forward to escort her to the door.
“I really only met Meg a short time ago,” Jo said, “so I don’t know much about either of them. I kind of got the impression Kevin was a bit domineering, and that was why she kept to herself a lot, because that was how he wanted it. Was I mistaken?”
“Kevin? Domineering?” Rick gave a quick laugh. He had an incredulous look on his face. “I wouldn’t say that. Would you, honey?”
Susan shook her head. “He seemed like a pretty nice guy to me. In fact, remember?” she asked her husband, “you had to nearly beg him to borrow your chainsaw when he was ready to go out and rent one.”
“Oh, yeah, when that big tree limb came down in their back yard. I even offered to come over and cut it up for him, but he said he’d be okay doing it himself.” Rick grinned. “I could hear him having trouble keeping the saw going at first, but eventually he got the hang of it.”
Jo smiled. “Guess I was mistaken, then. Hey, thanks again for your time.”
“No problem. Tell Meg to let us know if there’s anything we can do, okay?”
Jo said she would. As the door was closing behind her she heard, “We should run over to the hospital this afternoon, Sue, don’t you think?” Jo smiled to herself and shook her head as she stepped off the low stoop, sure that with kids to pick up from soccer practice and a potluck dinner to prepare for, that no, Sue most likely didn’t think.
Jo stopped at the end of the driveway, thinking. Unfortunately, neither Jack McKendry nor Rick Gurney were knowledgeable about what Kevin had hinted to Meg. She decided she might as well keep trying and crossed back over the street to talk to the neighbors on the other side of Meg. She followed that with knocks on more doors up and down the block. The responses she got from all were, surprisingly, nearly identical in substance: nobody knew Meg or Kevin beyond having exchanged a few words here and there, and nobody seemed to have the impression that Kevin was a difficult man to get along with.
Was that simply because they didn’t know him well? Jo wondered. The darker side of people, she knew, could be easily hidden in casual encounters. But Rick and Susan Gurney, who may have interacted with Kevin the most, had actually scoffed at the idea of Kevin being overbearing. Jo thought back to how she had formed the idea and thought it might have been mostly due to Ruthie’s comments. Jo had already decided to pick up lunch for Carrie and herself on her way back to the shop, and thought she’d ask Ruthie about it.