Frank snapped his phone shut. “That was Hank. He left here five minutes ago. Said place is clean. No blood, lots of prints, mainly Donna’s, and a lot of cat hair. She didn’t even own a computer. He added that it was a total waste of his time and to thank you.”
“Bite me,” Jake said. He took Hank’s barbs in stride.
Frank headed to the bedroom while Jake stayed in the living room. He found an appointment book in the secretary but other than notations of birthdays and lunch with someone name Alyce, there wasn’t anything noteworthy. He did jot down the last time she had lunch with Alyce. It would have been the day after she dumped a beer on Ron.
Jake moved to the kitchen where there were articles pinned by magnets to the front of the refrigerator. Most were coupons for water, soda, cereal, and feminine products. One article on decreasing wrinkles had been ripped from a magazine.
“Anything?” Frank asked as he entered. “Bedroom doesn’t have much. No male toiletries in the bathroom. No guns under the pillow or flowers pressed in a diary.”
“She was supposed to have lunch with Alyce on the day after she gave Ron the heave ho. Have to see if Alyce is one of the co-workers coming in today.”
There was a knock on the door. “Sorry to bother you,” Vi said, a hankie pressed to her nose. “Donna’s mother is on the phone. Wants to know when she can clean out the apartment.” She mangled the hankie in her hand as she dabbed at her red eyes.
Jake didn’t want to release the apartment until the case was closed but since it obviously wasn’t the scene of the crime he saw no reason to hold onto it. “Tell her she can have it now.”
Vi nodded and left.
Jake checked his watch. “Let’s give it another half hour and then get back to the precinct.”
<><>
“Did you find something?” Forrest answered Sam’s call on the first ring. She could hear voices in the background. He was obviously at work and although she had told him she would update him daily, she hadn’t expected him to jump on the phone as though she had discovered headline breaking news.
“No, I’m sorry, Forrest. I just wanted to let you know I found out Marti took a call seven minutes before the incident.” She didn’t feel comfortable saying she died or before she jumped. “It was from an untraceable number and it only lasted four seconds. Do you recall her receiving previous such calls?”
“No, not at all, other than telemarketers. Both of us would listen for a few seconds until we realized it was a computer talking and we’d hang up.”
Sam doubted telemarketers used disposable phones. “Did your wife have any problems with anyone where she used to work or anyone in the building?”
“No.”
“The fact that this person didn’t call your home number and only Marti’s cell phone tells me this was personal.”
There was silence for a few seconds. “I think I know where you’re going with this because the police went down that road, too. No, my wife was not having an affair. No, my wife wasn’t being blackmailed over something lurid in her past and suicide was her only way out to spare me.” Forrest spoke in a hushed tone.
“Do you recall any hang-up calls to your home phone in the days leading up to Marti’s death?”
“No, but I was at work every day and there weren’t any such calls when I was home at night.”
“Thanks, Forrest. That’s all I needed to know.” She hung up before he could hand her another string of denials. It was hard enough getting to the truth if she had to listen to a loved one paint a flowery picture of the deceased. But she did know of one loved one who might be able to tell her more without opening her mouth.
<><>
It was almost nap time at the day care center. Sam had to show her credentials before entering. It was nice to know they didn’t let just anyone in. Several seniors, both male and female, were holding children in their laps, some reading, others rocking. A young woman dressed in an outfit of bold geometric designs appeared to be in charge. Sam didn’t think she was much older than twenty-five. How convenient to be able to take an elevator to work every day.
“The poor thing. I have to fight back tears every day when Mister Johnson brings Savannah in.” She held out a hand to Sam. “I’m Trina Miller. I was about ready to put everyone down for a nap.”
“Can I hold her?”
“Of course.” Savannah was sitting in a puddle of building blocks, intent on fitting a square one into a star-shaped hole. Trina cooed something to Savannah, then lifted her in her arms. “Here you go.” Savannah took one look at Sam and raised her arms. Savannah had a good memory.
Toddlers were curled up on blankets dotting the floor like postage stamps. Some seniors started filing out while others cradled infants and looked for vacant rocking chairs. Sam chose one by the window while Trina chose a glider across from Sam.
“Here.” Trina placed a hand-sewn doll into Savannah’s arms. “She never goes anywhere without it. Mister Johnson told me it is one of Savannah’s favorites. Her mom made it for her.”
Savannah wrapped both arms around the doll and yawned. Sam wasn’t sure what she expected by being close to Savannah. It wasn’t like the child could tell Sam anything that happened the morning her mother had died, although it would have been nice.
“You seem to have a lot of kids to take care of,” Sam whispered to Trina.
“It seemed the more word got out, the more residents pulled their kids from their current child care facilities and signed up for mine. Now I need help but at least I have enough money to hire someone. “
“Your prices must be right.”
“They are very reasonable because of a grant I applied for to help defray the costs.”
Savannah gave one last yawn, then her eyelids blinked slowly. On the other side of the room one toddler kept sitting up and walking over to the toy chest. An elderly woman coaxed him back to his blanket. She gave a wave to Trina before dimming the lights and leaving the room.
Now that the noise was reduced to a few sighs and soft clatter of toys clutched protectively in toddlers’ hands, Sam could detect faint music in the background. Whatever the room had been used for previously, it had been completely transformed. Bright letters of the alphabet were on one wall. Pictures of various animals were in an alcove labeled The Farm. A side room, probably a kitchen, had counters and a sink. Trina obviously had the children well-trained since there were very few toys left on the floor.
“How is she doing?” Sam asked, with a nod toward Savannah.
“The poor thing. Her eyes light up when Mister Johnson stops by to pick her up but she still seems to look past him as though her mom might have come, too. It’s heartbreaking.”
“Had you met Marti?”
“Yes. She was so bubbly and fun-loving. A great mother. She would only drop off Savannah when she had errands to run or a doctor’s appointment so I didn’t see Savannah every day.” The child in Trina’s arms was asleep, as was Savannah. The room was a buzz of deep breathing and soft snores. Trina looked from Savannah’s face to Sam’s. “Why do you think she did it? Why do you think she gave up on life?”
That was one question Sam didn’t find hard to answer. “I don’t think she did.”