Chapter Ten
After texting Freddy for Willa Mae’s address, I headed out. On the seat next to me, I stowed a cloth bag containing a plastic container of soup and a half dozen fresh biscuits I just whipped up. My ancient Ford Econoline minivan had finally taken its last rattling, dysfunctional ride in October. The store was doing so well, I’d treated myself to a frankly adorable brand-new Prius C in a bright blue. It drove like a dream, included Bluetooth technology and heated leather seats, and the moon roof was a fun touch. The miles per gallon were awesome, too, averaging over 50 MPG even on Brown County’s hilly byways. I would add a bike rack on the back when the weather warmed up.
The Greenbergs’ home was a few blocks beyond the center of town. I could have walked, but the curtain of night was already falling, and the icy wind had chilled me simply walking out to the barn to get my car. During the short drive, I realized I had no idea if the Greenbergs had adult children. If they did, with any luck, at least one would have been summoned to grieve alongside Willa Mae and provide support, or perhaps other relatives were with her. Either way, it was always nice to bring condolence food. It was what folks did around here, and being a food-centric person, I approved of the custom.
I cruised by the library on my way. Turning into the parking lot behind it, I pulled to a stop. The after-hours box abutted the walkway, and a black iron fence stood three feet tall outlining the parking lot. Maybe movie lover Jed had walked by here because he often dropped a loaner DVD in the box.
Yellow police tape was strung in a wide circle around where Jed must have died. It included the box and blocked the walkway in two places about ten feet apart. I didn’t see any obvious piles of snow nearby. But the twilight didn’t give me a good glimpse of the ice, so I drove on. How the walkway got icy was still a puzzle.
At the Greenberg ranch house, it looked like every light inside was turned on, including the one over the front porch. I rang the bell and waited. When Willa Mae pulled open the door and saw me, she blinked.
I proffered the bag. “Hi, Willa Mae. I was so sorry to hear about Jed. I brought you some soup and biscuits.”
She peered at me. “Oh, it’s you, Robbie. Do you want to come in?”
“Sure. Just for a minute, if I’m not interrupting anything.” She hadn’t taken the bag, so I kept hold of it.
She stepped back and I followed her into the living room. The temperature felt like it was set at eighty degrees. She shut the door and pointed to the couch. “Please sit down.”
I set the bag on a coffee table full of newspapers and New Yorker magazines and sat. In the light, I looked more closely at Willa Mae. Last night, her hair had been fluffy and neatly arranged. Now it lay limp and mussed, like she hadn’t bothered to brush it all day. She wore a black turtleneck under an old IU sweatshirt with black yoga pants. Her face was bare of makeup, but her eyes weren’t red or watery and her gaze was sharp. Her feet were bare, too.
“Thank you for bringing food.” She perched on the edge of an armchair at right angles to the couch. “I haven’t been very hungry, but I know I should eat something.”
“You’re welcome, of course. Do you have children with you, or other family?”
She shook her head once to each side. “We never had kids. Just as well, really. And my family is in Illinois and Iowa. I called my sister and she’s on her way, but she’s driving from the western side of Iowa. It’s going to take her a day, at least.”
“It must have been such a shock to hear the news. Did Buck Bird come and tell you?”
“The tall goofy one?”
“He’s definitely tall.” Goofy? I guess some of his colorful phrases could prompt a person to think he was goofy, but he really wasn’t.
“I’d barely woken up when Lieutenant Bird arrived. When he told me the news, I couldn’t believe it. I almost didn’t answer the door.” She gave a shudder and rubbed her thumb against her first two fingers in a fast motion that looked like a nervous tic. “I don’t like policemen.”
“I can vouch for Buck, Willa Mae. He’s a good man. He talks kind of like a yokel, but he’s smart and an excellent officer.”
She shrugged. “Anyway, Jed must have gone out for his walk at six in the morning like he always does. The man is—or, was, I guess—a total creature of habit. This morning, he must have taken Cocoa, too. Last night, he’d said he would. I guess that was the last thing he ever said to me.”
“You didn’t see him this morning?”
“No. We have very different schedules and biorhythms. He goes to bed early and gets up early, and I’m the complete opposite. Plus, I apparently snore like a foghorn.” She gave a little laugh. “We’ve slept separately for years.”
I ran my finger around the neck of my sweater. I was getting overheated in here. “Buck told me Jed fell and hit his head. How sad.”
“That’s what the officer told me, too, and that Cocoa’s leash was tangled in Jed’s legs. My husband had been having an issue with balance recently. His doctor hadn’t figured out what caused it yet. He probably shouldn’t have been walking a puppy at all.”
I glanced around. The kitchen and dining room at the back of the house were open to the room where we sat. In the dining area, the table was covered with newspapers and an array of irregularly shaped seedpods, some shining with silver paint. The wisteria, no doubt, but no sign of Cocoa. “Where’s the puppy?”
“The police called Freddy to pick him up. She phoned me and I said I’d be happy to keep him, since we’d offered to, but she said I would have too much to do, that she’d figure something out. I mean, I need to plan Jed’s burial, but the police said they have to keep his body for a while.” She shuddered. “I hate to even think of his body all cold and in the morgue or wherever.”
“I can imagine. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s why I have the heat so high. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t help it. I kept shivering when it was set to sixty-eight, like I usually have it.” Willa Mae scratched at silver paint on the back of one hand. “It’s crazy. I’ve been doing a craft today. It helps keep my mind off what’s going on.”
“That’s not crazy. What’s the craft?” I asked, even though I knew.
“Freddy O’Neill gave me some interesting seedpods when we were leaving their house the other night, remember? I’m spray-painting them.” She waved a hand toward the dining table.
As long as this plant toxicologist wasn’t grinding up the wisteria pods and putting them in her husband’s hot chocolate.
Willa Mae continued. “It was either that or work on a really hard puzzle.”
“Puzzles are a great distraction. How long were you and Jed married, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Nineteen years.” Her fingers resumed the rapid rubbing.
I nodded. “You seem to be doing pretty well with this sudden news.”
Her fingers quieted as she gazed at me. “I don’t mind telling you, he and I hadn’t gotten along very well for quite a while. I’m not quite sure why I stayed married to him. We didn’t have children to tie us together. But I didn’t wish him dead. No way.” She pushed first one and then the other sleeve up to her elbows.
I stood, nearly staring at a healing bruise on her forearm, but made my eyes keep moving up to her face. “I’m afraid I need to get back to my store and do prep for tomorrow. Please call me if there’s anything I can do for you, okay?” I dug one of my Pans ’N Pancakes cards out of my bag and scribbled my cell number on it.
She took the card. “Thanks, Robbie. This was real nice of you to drop by. I don’t belong to a church, you know, the kind of folks who usually step up when somebody passes. My only friend in town moved away last year. And Jed had alienated our neighbors something bad, so they haven’t been by, either. Or maybe they don’t know he’s gone yet.”