Part 22 (1/2)

”I thought he got six months.”

”Parole. For good behavior.”

”Good behavior! Are you freaking kidding me?” Christa turned, grabbed a gla.s.s candleholder off the table and moved to throw it against the wall. Lucky touched her arm. ”Tea,” she said, taking the object and putting it back in place. ”Moonlight will explain what parole means.”

Smith and Christa followed Lucky into the kitchen. It was barely large enough for the three women. There were only two chairs. Lucky set about putting the kettle on and rooting through the cupboards for mugs and spoons, tea bags and sugar.

Christa dropped into a chair. ”So explain.”

Smith leaned her b.u.t.t up against the kitchen counter. ”His parole has conditions, Chris. Hes not allowed to contact you or to come within two hundred meters of you. If you see him, or if he calls you, youve got to call us...the police...right away.”

”And h.e.l.l be sent back to jail?”

”Well, uh, the parole board will take it under considera tion.”

”By which time Ill be dead, right Molly?”

Lucky dropped a mug. It hit the cracked linoleum floor and shattered.

It was the morning of December thirtieth. Ray Lopez was still on leave, as were the two most senior constables and Staff-Sergeant Peterson. Tonight and tomorrow night there would be a full complement of officers working, but theyd be kept busy on the streets. Winters had dragged Molly Smith half-way around town yesterday, on her day off, and she was on duty tonight. Shed be sound asleep this morning. He couldnt call her up and ask for help.

He pushed back his chair. Hed have to pound the pavement himself.

At least it was a Sunday: people would be at home.

Driving through the snow-covered streets, he thought about last night. Doctor Patricia Wyatt-Yarmouth sipping mimosas in his own living room. Earlier, hed decided to visit Jasons parents this morning to explain why he wasnt releasing their sons body.

Instead, realizing that Eliza and Barney would offer her more support than she was likely to get from her own husband, hed carefully told Patricia about the strange circ.u.mstances of Ewans death. Shed remained calm, although she finished her drink quickly and asked Barney for another. She asked medical questions that Winters had been unable to answer. She was an intelligent woman, a surgeon of international reputation after all, and instantly realized that the circ.u.mstances of Ewans death, and where his body had been found, raised questions about Jasons conduct on the night in question. And, although no one mentioned it, the boys friends and Jasons sister as well.

He offered to drive her back to her hotel, but she insisted on calling a taxi. Somehow Eliza and Barney ended up in the cab with her, and he was glad Patricia had the company.

He hadnt heard his wife climbing into bed beside him.

Aspen Street was steep and narrow and difficult to negotiate at the best of times. The day after a heavy snowfall was not the best of times. In the older parts of town many houses didnt have garages or even driveways, so cars parked on both sides of the street year round. The snowplow had been unable to do much other than sc.r.a.pe off the middle of the road. Parking was haphazard; cars scattered across snow packed into ice. Several vehicles hadnt been moved in days and resembled car-shaped snow sculptures.

The neighborhood was an eclectic mix of modern structures of brick and gla.s.s and wood, heritage houses restored to early twentieth-century glory, and heritage houses that couldnt remember their glory days, if ever theyd had such a time.

The LeBlanc home was one of the worst. The neighbors on the left had erected a tall fence: stiff, varnished wooden planks standing like soldiers protecting their owner from sight of the run-down property.

But Winters wasnt here to call on the LeBlanc family.

He went up and down the street, knocking on doors, considering himself lucky to find most people at home. At each house he asked if anyone had noticed a yellow SUV on the street on Christmas Eve. Fortunately that was an easy day for most people to remember.

Unfortunately no one had noticed much of anything. A few of the neighbors gave him their uncensored opinion of the LeBlanc family. He thanked them and moved on.

He was heading back to the van, dreaming of a mug of Eddies strongest coffee, when a blue Toyota stopped in the middle of the road. The woman behind the wheel rolled down the window and gestured to him. Hed spoken to her at the first house hed called upon, but she had nothing to tell him.

He crossed the street.

”Ive picked up my mom from Church,” she said. ”I mentioned youd been asking about Christmas Eve and she said she might have something to tell you.”

A fragile, white-haired lady smiled at him from the pa.s.senger seat.

”Follow me,” the driver said.

He did so.

He was invited in for tea. Outside, the house was warm wood and gla.s.s. The inside was modern and spa.r.s.e, painted neutral colors with lots of mirrors and pale hardwood floors topped by what real estate agents called cathedral ceilings.

He was led into a small room overlooking the street, crammed with heavy, dark, old-fas.h.i.+oned furniture. Black-and-white and faded color photographs sat on round white doilies, covering every surface. The last time hed been in air this warm, hed been in a sauna.

Winters was offered tea, which he accepted only because he suspected that the elderly lady liked a cup after church.

The daughter left to get the tea, and the older woman, introduced to him as Mrs. Frances James, sat on a stiff-backed, wooden-armed chair covered in brown and orange print. She placed her large black patent leather handbag on the floor beside her. Feeling like the Detective Inspector in a mystery novel of the cla.s.sic age, Winters leaned against the fireplace-electric, unlike those of the cla.s.sic novels.

”I do wish Ruth would at least allow the children to accompany me to ma.s.s on occasion,” Mrs. James said. ”But she sees fit not to. Except for Christmas Eve and Easter Sunday.

”Speaking of which, when Ruth picked me up at Church she mentioned you were asking about events on this street on Christmas Eve.” Mrs. James waved her left hand. The diamond on her third finger wasnt much smaller than the Koh-I-Noor.

”Thats right. I...”

”When my husband died, my daughter and her husband were kind enough to invite me to come and live with their family here in your lovely town.” Mrs. James thin lips were outlined in deep red lipstick and pinched in disapproval. Winters guessed that she wasnt all that happy living at her daughters invitation, but shed die before admitting it. ”I accepted, realizing they need help with the children. It is difficult these days, what with families requiring two incomes.” If Mrs. James hadnt been such a lady, she would have spat on the floor. ”It was understood from the beginning Id need my private s.p.a.ce.” Another twist of the lips. ”They arranged this room for my use. Isnt it lovely?”

It wasnt lovely at all, at least not to John Winters eyes. But it did sit at the front of the house, with a big bay window and a clear view of Aspen Street. And the LeBlanc home. Which was all that mattered.

The door opened and a tea tray came in, followed by Mrs. James daughter. She placed the tray on a gla.s.s-topped wooden table with ornate legs. ”Thank you, dear,” Mrs. James said. ”Its rather cool in here. Turn on the fire, will you.”

”Sure, Mom.” Ruth grimaced at Winters, but she flicked the switch to start the electric fire.

He took a seat by the window.

Mrs. James poured the tea. ”Sugar?”

”Please.”

She placed two slices of shortbread on the saucer and handed the cup to her daughter. Ruth gave it to Winters.

”This is my moms sitting room,” Ruth said. ”She spends a good part of her day in here. She might have seen something on Christmas Eve, right, Mom?”

Mrs. James touched her cup to her lips. Winters nibbled at a cookie and repressed a sigh. Mrs. James, he thought, only wanted to be entertained.

But she surprised him. ”I must confess to an officer of the law that I find the goings on across the street to be as entertaining as the television, if not more so. However, I wont go on too much. Youre interested in Christmas Eve and the day before, Ruth tells me.”

”Yes maam.”