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I STOOD OUTSIDE IN the back parking lot of the dentist’s office where the late Sergeant Andy Meredith’s widow, Marie, worked as a dental hygienist.
She walked out the back door from the building and across the small parking lot. There was barely enough room for six cars.
“Mrs. Meredith?” I said as I approached her.
She seemed startled as she turned to me and reached her hand into the small purse hanging off her shoulder.
I put my hands out wide up in front of me, palms out toward her. “I don’t know what you’re about to pull out of your purse, but before you do...my name is Henry Walsh. I’m a private investigator, and I’d like to ask you a few questions about your husband.”
Her hand came out of her purse with a small Ruger revolver in her grasp.
I kept my hands in the air and extended my index finger on one hand. “Give me a minute...I can explain. It’s about your husband.”
“My husband?” She narrowed her eyes. “Where is he?”
“Uh...isn’t your husband dead?”
“Leon?”
“Who’s Leon?”
“My husband.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I meant Andy. Andy Meredith. I didn’t know you were...”
“I’m remarried.” She smiled. “Just six weeks ago.”
“So you’re not Mrs. Meredith anymore?”
She shook her head. “Mrs. Connor.”
I nodded toward the Ruger in her hand, my hands lower but still up in front of me. “You can put that away, you know.” I extended my index fingers again. “Can I give you my card?”
She nodded slowly, still holding onto the gun.
I reached into my back pocket, pulled out my card, and handed it to her.
She grabbed it from my hand and looked down at it for a moment. She handed it back to me. “So what do you want?”
“You can keep the card,” I said. “I have a whole box of them.”
Marie stuck the card in her purse, her other hand still holding the pistol. “You look harmless. But I’ve made that mistake in judgement before.” She narrowed her eyes for a moment, then slipped the Ruger back in her purse and slid the zipper across the top.
I eased my hands down by my side. “Is it okay to talk here?”
She turned and looked at the door to her building. “There’s already enough gossip behind that door. I’d rather go somewhere else. There’s a restaurant down the street...a Chinese place. Food’s not great, but the drinks are cheap. And we can talk.”
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MARIE WAS ALREADY AT the bar with a drink in her hand when I walked into Wa Ma Wok’s.
She looked at her watch. “Did you get lost?”
“No,” I said. “Couldn’t find a place to park.”
She nodded with a slight smile. “I should’ve told you, there’s a lot in back. Only enough for a couple of cars.” She looked around at the empty tables. “Parking’s a bitch on this street. Too bad...keeps people from coming in here.”
If it weren’t for the loud eighties music coming from the speakers, I’d assume the place was closed.
I looked behind the empty bar. “Is there a bartender? Or’s it self-serve.”
Marie put the back of her hand up next to her mouth. She called out, “Liena? You back there, hon?”
A young woman came through the red curtains behind the bar, wiped her hands on her apron. She smiled and nodded.
“Liena, would you get my friend a drink?”
She again smiled and nodded. “Hi.”
“I’ll have a Jack Daniels,” I said as I thought for a moment. “Make it neat, with a side of rocks.”
The smile left her face as she looked to Marie for help. “Neat?”
“He wants it without ice, hon.”
I said, “Just give me a glass of ice on the side.”
The young woman poured the Jack Daniels and placed the glass down on the bar in front of me. “Thank you,” I said.
She stood and watched me for a moment then must’ve remembered my ice. She scooped some into a glass and placed it down in front of me, then disappeared through the curtain behind the bar.
Marie turned to me, her knees between her stool and mine. “So when’s the part come when you tell me what this is all about?”
I picked a couple of cubes from the glass and dropped them into my Jack. Before I took a sip, I said, “I’m investigating John Thompson’s death.”
She held her glass up in front of her chin but stopped and put it back down on the bar. “John Thompson?” She shook her head. “If I’d known...” She turned her body away from me and faced the bar.
“I guess you know who he is?”
She took a breath then raised her drink to her mouth. She sipped the wine and stared straight ahead before she turned back to me. “John liked to say he was a friend of my late husband’s.”
“Was he?”
Marie gave me a look and folded her arms as she leaned back in her seat. “John was the kind of friend who came around when he needed something.” She shifted in her seat and turned a little more my way. “They played ball together in high school. John went on to college, I don’t think Andy heard from him again until...” She stopped, mid-sentence.
I waited to see if she’d finish, but she didn’t. I said, “Do you know who Paul Krueger is?”
She took a couple of moments before she spoke. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Paul spoke very highly of your husband. But he also said it was Andy who forced Paul into retirement from the Sheriff’s Office. Paul believes it had to do with his investigation of John Thompson’s late wife’s death.”
Marie pushed her glass aside and folded her hands together in front of her mouth. She stared straight down at the bar. She said, “I haven’t heard his name in quite some time. But...” she looked toward me. “What do you want me to tell you? My husband was wrong to force Paul out? That he was up to no good? That I know all the secrets?” She reached for her wine and finished what was left.
I sat quiet for a moment. “I’d just like to understand what happened.”
She sipped her wine. “You’re assuming I know something.”
I nodded and looked her in the eye. “Don’t you?”
She kept her eyes on me. “Why should I tell you anything? I’m not sure your good looks are enough to make me talk.”
I swallowed and sipped my drink. “I just want the truth. I want to know what happened to John’s wife that night. I want to know what your husband told you about the investigation...what he told you about Paul. Paul was a man, from what I hear, your husband had a great deal of respect for.”
She nodded, her lips tight together. “It killed him to have to do what he did. If he could’ve done it all over...”
I waited for her to continue.
She said, “If I tell you something, can you promise me I won’t be pulled into something I’ve already put behind me? This conversation must stay between us? I’ve spent the last five years of my life trying to block it all out. I’ve started over. And the last thing I need is...”
“I’ll do what I can to make sure you’re not dragged into it.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not good enough. It’s a simple yes or no answer. Will you keep me out of it?”
I nodded, although I knew I couldn’t make any promises.
She called out for Liena, and the young woman came through the curtain hanging across the door.
Liena smiled. “Would you like more wine?”
Marie pushed her glass across the bar and nodded her head to the side, toward my drink. “Give me a glass of what he’s having.”
Liena nodded with a big smile and reached for a highball. She gave Marie a good pour of Jack Daniels then held the bottle toward me, “Would you like more, sir?”
I pushed my glass toward her and nodded. “Go ahead, top it off.”
Liena put the bottle down on the shelf behind her then again disappeared through the curtain.
Marie took a good sip, made a face as it went down and widened her eyes. “Been a long time since I had whiskey.” She took another sip—a little more this time—and gently placed the glass down on top of the bar. She looked straight ahead. “That night, when Theresa Thompson was found dead...” She paused as she looked up toward the ceiling for a brief moment. “John showed up at our door. I don’t remember what time it was, but Andy and I were in bed. Maybe midnight, one o’clock. Somewhere around there. Andy jumped from bed when he heard the knock and answered the door. I stood behind him from inside and watched John. He was shaking as he stood out on the porch. He was a mess, and looked like he’d been drinking. But I can’t say for sure. It was hard to see out there...I can still see the dim bulb in the lamp over the door, shining on his face.”
“What’d he say?”
“Honestly, just that he needed Andy’s help. That something bad had happened.”
“Did he say what it was?”
Marie shook her head. “Andy told me to go back to bed, stepped out onto the porch with John and closed the door behind him.”
“You didn’t hear anything?”
She looked me in the eye for a moment, then broke into a quick nod. “I tried to listen. For some reason, I knew it was something about Theresa. When I heard him say she was dead...the door opened and Andy saw me standing there. ‘I gotta go help John’ is all he said. He got dressed and headed out the door.”
“He went with John?”
She shook her head. “He took my car. He never drove my car, but he took it then.”
“He didn’t tell you what was going on?”
She shook her head. “No. He came home an hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half later...got back in bed without saying a word. Next day I learn about Theresa’s death. Paul was on the TV, they showed him at the scene. I remember...I looked at Andy. He just sat there at the kitchen table, in uniform. He sipped his coffee without saying two words. He wouldn’t look at me, and I knew right then...”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“Not then. But it was less than a week. Paul was no longer with the Sheriff’s Office. They said he’d retired. I didn’t believe it.” She took a deep breath and looked straight ahead across the bar. “I confronted Andy.”
“Did he tell you what happened?”
She slowly nodded her head as she turned to me.
“Did he tell you John Thompson killed his wife?”
She hesitated a moment, then shook her head “No. Because he didn’t.”