Within Range. Janice Kay Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ him and my purse and raced outside. My hand was shaking so much I had trouble getting the key in the ignition, but I locked all the doors, backed out of the driveway and kept backing halfway up the block. I didn’t come closer until the police car arrived.”

      “That was smart. You couldn’t be sure there wasn’t somebody still in the house.”

      Her steadiness must have been a facade, because her fingers twisted together and he saw fear on her face. “Do you think he was?” she asked.

      “He?” Seth repeated.

      “I just assumed it would have to be a man... I mean, could a woman have enough strength to bludgeon someone to death like that?”

      Not likely for a woman, but he wouldn’t rule one out. “I doubt the killer was still in the house when you arrived home.” Seth’s guess that the murder had happened within the last half hour or so suggested the killer hadn’t been gone long, though.

      He asked her what cars she noticed parked on the street. She turned her head, telling him she recognized the pickup truck near the corner as belonging to the man who lived in that house. Otherwise...

      “That almost has to be her car, doesn’t it?” He followed her gaze to the sedan right in front of her car.

      “I’ll find out,” he said, and continued to ask questions.

      No, Ms. Boyd hadn’t seen anyone outside or even looking through their windows when she turned onto the block and then into her own driveway, although she really hadn’t paid attention. “Less than usual,” she admitted. “Because my feet hurt.”

      “New shoes?”

      “Yes, and I’m going to throw them away.”

      He smiled faintly, then asked, “Does anybody else have a key to your house?”

      The way her hands continued to writhe, he was surprised he hadn’t heard the snap of her knuckles cracking.

      “The landlord must.” She frowned. “And...I suppose Andrea might have had one. I guess she must have, or she couldn’t have gotten in, could she?”

      He didn’t even try to hide the spike of anger. “You know the victim?”

      Her gaze slid away from his.

      “Any reason why she might have been in the house?”

      “But there isn’t any reason for her to be here. I mean, the real estate firm she works for also manages the property, but I haven’t needed any repairs, and I can’t imagine anyone complained that I was doing damage to the house. Why else would she have let herself in?” Alternating between determined poise and vulnerability, Ms. Boyd was now all but vibrating with indignation that spilled over. “I can’t believe she’s allowed to just do that. If I’d thought anyone could just poke through our stuff, I wouldn’t have rented a house through that firm.”

      “I’ll be talking to her boss, but I seriously doubt she was supposed to let herself into rentals when the tenants weren’t there. That makes me wonder why she did. Have you heard from her in the recent past?”

      Ms. Boyd shook her head. “Not a word. She showed me the house, I filled out the application, went into the real estate office to sign some paperwork and pay first and last months’ rent. They gave me the key and that was it.”

      She and her son had lived here for eleven months, she said. And yes, she’d run into Andrea a few times since at the grocery store or pharmacy, so she must live here in town. They’d been friendly, in a casual way. “She’d ask how the house was working out, we might talk about some event here in town or the weather. Nothing really personal. I think she was only being polite.”

      “Is she married? Does she have children?”

      Her forehead creased. “She’s married, I’m pretty sure, but I don’t know about kids. I don’t remember her saying anything.”

      His phone rang just then. He was relieved by the interruption, as he was undecided about how much more he wanted to ask her right now versus later. Particularly whether he should, bluntly or subtly, mention the physical resemblance between the two women.

      After the brief conversation, he turned to her and said, “You won’t be able to get back in your house for at least twenty-four hours, probably longer. Do you have a friend you can stay with?”

      “But...I need some of Jacob’s things. And mine!”

      Her feet hurt, he remembered. “Give me a list of the most important things, and I’ll see what I can do.”

      * * *

      THE DETECTIVE’S EXPRESSION was completely uncompromising. He wasn’t going to let them back in the house at all. The idea of going back in made Helen feel sick, anyway. She couldn’t until the body was gone, and even then...how would she feel cooking in that kitchen? Walking right across the vinyl where Andrea had died, even when the blood had been washed away?

      Not letting herself look at the man who seemed to take up more space than he should, she pressed a hand to her stomach. “I don’t know if I can keep living there.”

      He had unnervingly blue eyes, which she knew were intent on her face right now. Somehow, that intensity compelled her to turn her head and meet those eyes.

      “Death doesn’t have to contaminate a home,” he said calmly.

      “But murder?” Helen asked around the lump in her throat.

      “You knew Andrea Sloan. Would she want to haunt you?”

      All she felt was revulsion. “I don’t know. How can I tell, when I have no idea why she was in my house?”

      Detective Renner kept studying her for long enough to make her want to squirm. He must be a whiz at interrogations. Finally, he inclined his head. “Give yourself time. Tonight, it’s probably best if you stay at a hotel.”

      Since he had that notebook handy, anyway, she dictated a list of essentials to him. “I can go buy some of the stuff if I have to, but I really need the blue stuffed bunny on Jacob’s bed, and his blankie. It’s probably on the sofa.”

      “Yellow?”

      “Yes, that’s it. The clothes and diapers and whatnot aren’t as important. Oh, it would be good if you could grab his potty seat from the bathroom.”

      “Okay. I doubt it’s a significant part of the crime scene.” He smiled, got out and walked up to her rental, disappearing inside.

      She rubbed her breastbone, as if to ease a strange pressure beneath it. Detective Renner had a nice smile, one that encouraged her to trust him, that crinkled the skin beside his eyes and softened the hard lines of an angular face she’d first thought looked dangerous. He wasn’t handsome, exactly, not like Richard. God knew she’d never trust a smooth, well-dressed, handsome man again. But trusting this detective wasn’t an option, either, even if he was a decent man.

      Helen Boyd couldn’t trust anyone, a cop least of all.

      In fact, the smart thing for her to do was bolt, before this cop had a chance СКАЧАТЬ