Part 8 (1/2)

”My names Maggie. Im . . . a colleague of Karl Jacobs. I wondered if I could ask you a few questions.” Maggie is quick on her feet coming up with a lie she hopes wont be obvious. If Valerie spoke with Karl once, maybe sh.e.l.l be willing to talk to another reporter.

The door opens an inch wider. ”Yes. Im Valerie. But who is Karl Jacobs?”

”The reporter you spoke with. He writes for the Silver Times.”

Valeries eyes show no recognition. ”I never spoke with a reporter, but come in,” she invites Maggie hesitantly, opening the door just wide enough for a person to slip through.

The inside of the house is the opposite of what Maggie expected. Outside, the siding needs to be replaced, leaves are falling out of the gutters and the roof looks like it could be redone. It looks like it hasnt had any maintenance in years.

But inside, everything s.h.i.+nes. Light streams through windows and reflects off mirrors and silver is displayed on every available surface. Valeries reclusiveness seems to lend itself to housework and maintaining her immediate surroundings.

Valerie leads Maggie toward the back of the house and into a sun room. The room is not visible from neighboring homes, as there is a tall privacy fence around the whole backyard. Outside of the sunroom are multiple bird feeders, flower gardens that are past for the season and bird baths. The yard is quiet.

Valerie sits on a wicker chair with large cus.h.i.+ons and Maggie sits opposite her. Valeries demeanor is still standoffish but at least shes willing to speak to Maggie. Sh.e.l.l count that as a win.

Maggie pulls her tablet computer from her handbag and turns the screen on. ”Is it okay if I take notes?” she asks, looking up and meeting Valeries gaze.

Valerie nods.

”You said you never spoke with a reporter?” Maggie asks.

Valerie nods again. She doesnt seem ready or willing to use more words than absolutely necessary.

Maggie wonders where Karl got his information. She doesnt let on that shes surprised about her lack of a conversation with Karl. ”I was hoping you could give me any details you remember about what you heard or saw on Sat.u.r.day night.”

Valerie leans back in her chair, relaxing a bit. ”I wondered when someone would finally ask me that. I heard a scream, a gunshot and then I saw someone run away from the house. Just like it said in the newspaper. But I never talked to anyone.”

Maggie makes some notes. ”Why do you think Karl quoted you if you never talked to him?” she asks. Where did Karl get his information? That one question wont leave Maggies mind.

Valerie shakes her head.

”I was hoping youd be able to offer more than what Karl claimed in the paper.”

”I dont remember anything else. I just saw a person dressed all in black running away from Ginger Raes house.”

”How tall was this person?” Maggie asks, happy to be getting somewhere.

Valerie tips her head back and forth before answering. ”Maybe just under six feet.”

”Would you guess that it was a man or a woman?”

”I dont know. I couldnt see details well enough. And they had a black winter cap on so I couldnt see if they had long hair.”

Maggie presses on while she has Valerie talking. ”Where were you so that you had a clear view of the person?”

”I was in my bedroom. I heard the shrill scream and I got out of bed. I was reading. I couldnt see outside with the light on, so I turned it off and saw someone jump out of the window and run toward the trees at the back of the house.”

Maggie leans forward but cant see Ginger Raes house from the sun room. ”Could we go upstairs so I can see it for myself?”

Valerie uncrosses her legs and Maggie stands in antic.i.p.ation of her request being met. ”You said youre with the newspaper, right?”

Maggie nods and sits back down, not wanting to press too hard.

Valerie hesitantly leads Maggie upstairs to her bedroom. ”I was standing just right here,” Valerie says, and plants her body in front of her bedroom window facing Ginger Raes house.

Maggie sidles up next to her and looks around. She has a clear view of the open window she noticed on Ginger Raes second floor. Its over a bay window, with just enough ledge for someone to climb onto, and a large tree right next to it.

”Did you notice anything in the room itself?” Maggie asks. She remembers there were lights on, making it easy for someone to see inside.

Valerie doesnt answer right away. ”No. I didnt make it to the window until someone was on the ledge and about to climb down the tree. They jumped from several feet off the ground.”

”Do you know your neighbors well? Can you think of anyone who might have wanted Clara dead? Or who might have been the one to talk to Karl and use your name instead of theirs?” Maggie asks.

Valerie shakes her head, her body stiffening again. ”I dont know Ginger Rae at all. Shes not my kind of person. Shes a fine neighbor, but shes too loud for my taste in people. And Clara, you said? I never met the girl. Now, if you dont mind, I have some things to do. You can see yourself out.”

Valerie waves her hand toward the bedroom door and turns back to the window. Maggie doesnt waste any time leaving the bedroom. Her handbag is still in the sun room, so she walks back through the house, slowly, taking in any missed details.

Who is Valerie Hunt? Shes closed off to the outside world, including her own neighbors. Why?

Where did Karl Jacobs come up with his information if its true that he never spoke with Valerie? Was someone impersonating her? Or is she lying to Maggie about not talking to him?

Maggie returns her tablet to her handbag and walks back out the front door, across the street and to her car. She doesnt see Valeries face in a window at the front of the house, watching her every move.

CHAPTER 19.

Opal stretches her claws on the trunk of a pine tree. She wants to let any dogs know that she was in the area. A cat near the dog park will throw them off.

Early this morning, before her human was even awake, Opal slipped silently off the bed, out of the bedroom and through the dog door. She hates that term-dog door. Any animal could use it.

Opal was on a mission. Shed listened closely last night as her human and her friends discussed the missing cat collar and the keys that seem so important. Maybe the group of cats shes landed among knows something she doesnt.

She climbs the tree she just marked and finds a thick branch partway up. She crouches low, hoping any dog wont look up and see her but will smell the mark she just left at the base of the trunk. Opal thinks back to her conversation with Jester as she sits patiently and listens to everything being said in the dog park.

”Who exactly was there?” Jester asked this morning when Opal showed up at the abandoned house. Most cats were still away for the night, enjoying the luxuries that Opal basks in with her human-plenty of ma.s.sages, as much food as she can eat, and a comfy bed.

”Maggie and Clem,” Opal started.

”Of course, its their house,” he interrupted her.

”And they called the other ones Ginger Rae, Winona and Erline.”

Jester walked away from her, the stub of his tail pointing straight toward the ceiling. ”Just as I thought. And they each had a key?”