“Holy shit.” Vera let go of Luna, her arms falling to her sides.
Jackie Andrews lay at the bottom of the staircase. Her chin was braced against the shiny hardwood floor, face forward, her eyes open and staring in their direction as if analyzing and judging every word exchanged. Her arms were draped alongside her body, her left leg twisted awkwardly beneath the right.
Vera rushed to the woman, crouched down and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Jackie’s skin was still warm, but it didn’t take a medicalexaminer to recognize she had likely sustained a serious cervical fracture.A broken neck.Probably one or both of the top vertebrae, which may have left her unable to breathe without assistance. A bit of blood in her hair suggested a head injury that very well could have rendered her unconscious as well, ensuring no cry for help.
Vera glanced at her sister, who still hovered near the door. “What happened?”
Luna blinked repeatedly as if she’d just awakened from a deep sleep. “I don’t know.” She abruptly closed the door, evidently only then realizing it was still open. She stepped deeper into the entry hall but didn’t come close to where Vera and the dead woman were.
Cold, black fear funneled inside Vera as she pushed to her feet.Wait, wait, wait.Her sister’s “I don’t know” response could not be right. “How did this happen, Luna?”
Luna gave the vaguest shake of her head. “I don’t know. I found her this way when I came back from the hardware store.”
It wasn’t until then that Vera noticed the gallon of paint lying on its side on the floor. Thankfully the lid hadn’t popped off and spilled the contents all over the place.
“So you walked in and found her this way.” That was certainly a viable scenario. “Who did you call?”
More blinking from Luna. “You. I called you.”
Vera fought against a wave of dismay and an even broader expanse of fear. “I mean, did you call for help?”
Luna nodded, her head bobbing too fast. “Yes. I called you.”
Vera held on to her patience as she closed the distance between them. “I’m asking if you called 911.”
The blank expression on Luna’s face turned to confusion. “Why would I do that? She was dead.”
Well there was that. “Luna.” She took her sister by the arms once more and turned her so they faced each other with hardly more than a dozen inches between them. “Jackie is dead, yes. But you should have called someone.”
Another rapid set of eye blinks. “I did,” she said, her voice rising with frustration or desperation. Maybe a combination of both. “I calledyou.”
Vera drew in a steadying breath. At least one of them had to remain calm and to think logically. “Okay.” She ushered Luna into the living room and the nearest chair. “You stay right here, and I’ll call Bent.”
Luna opened her mouth, let it close, then opened it again. “Should I call Jerome?”
Vera almost choked on a bubble of sound that lodged in her throat but somehow managed to hold it back. “Let’s hold off for a minute. First I need to call Bent and then I’ll get an ambulance out here, okay?”
Luna’s face puckered into a frown. “Jerome will be so upset. He loves his mother.”
Concern building like a tsunami at her sister’s continued robotic reactions, Vera patted Luna’s arm. Shock, no doubt. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”
She stepped back into the hall and studied the scene once more. Other than the dropped gallon of paint, all appeared tidy and organized. Luna’s home was always that way. She was almost obsessive about keeping things around her in perfect order and certainly always spotless.
Vera inspected Jackie’s body more closely. Tested her fingers for rigidity. Fingers were still soft and pliable. The facial muscles were as well. Without doubt she’d been dead less than two hours. No indication of rigor mortis.
Bracing, Vera made the call to Bent and headed to the kitchen as she waited for him to answer. No need for Luna to overhear the mountain of anxiety that would unquestionably affect her voice. Jackie’s purse sat on the counter next to the sink. Her cell phone right next to it. Vera wished she had a pair of latex gloves, and she would check the call and text logs. Since she did not and there were none under the sink, she ignored the impulse.
“Hey.” Bent’s voice finally came on the line. “I was just about to call you.”
Her situation couldn’t wait for an explanation of his. Vera spilled it. “I’m at Luna’s. Her mother-in-law, Jackie, has fallen down the stairs. I think her neck is broken.” Vera let go a big breath. “She’s dead, Bent.”
“EMS on the way?”
Vera bit her lip and told him the worst part in all this. “No. Luna didn’t call anyone else. Just me.”
The moment of silence that followed was no surprise and confirmed exactly how incredibly wrong her sister’s decision had been.
“Is Luna okay?” he asked.
