“Okay, so Alice’s tip had been incorrect. But I still think she managed to discover something about your sister’s killer, and the guy found out she was on to him and killed her, too. I have a hunch it was a person she knew, and very possibly your sister was acquainted with him as well.”
“And so we might know him, too. God, that’s chilling.”
“Perhaps from church.”
“Are you back to that? I don’t want to be dismissive of leads, but I already told you that I couldn’t imagine anyone we’re familiar with from the church murdering her. And Shannon had been back in the congregation for only a few months.”
“Has anyone from the parish ever struck you as hyper-religious? For instance, talking about sinners needing to be punished?”
“No... no one.” She seemed distracted suddenly, as if a thought had begun to skirt around the edges of her mind.
“Kelly? Did you think of something?”
“No, it’s just all too much to bear. And besides, I need to pick up my niece and nephew in a little while.”
“Okay.”
She extended an arm indicating she would see me out and began to move toward the hall.
“How are they coping?” I asked, following her to the front door.
“They’re too young and shell-shocked to have fully absorbed it yet, but when they do, it’s going to be utterly devastating. Shannon was so involved in every single aspect of their lives, twenty-four/seven.”
The remark could have been taken as a compliment—like the unicorn-colored cupcake comment the other day—but her tone once again gave off a whiff of criticism, as if Shannon’s involvement with her children had been of the smothering variety.
We’d arrived at the front door, and Kelly reached for the handle.
“I’m really grateful for your time,” I said. “And again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. And I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I’d really appreciate it if you left us alone from now on. I’ve tried to be helpful, and there’s nothing more I can contribute.”
“I’m sure dealing with the press hasn’t been easy,” I said, not making any promises. There was every chance I’d want to circle back to Kelly in the next days, but I’d simply have to cross that bridge when I reached it.
I stepped back to let Kelly swing open the door, and as I did, my gaze fell onto the surface of the small hall table. Tucked under the base of a lamp was a bright red-and-white business card with the wordsCunningham Real Estate, along with the agent’s name, Janice Talbot. I made a quick mental note of the information as I stepped onto the portico and felt the door close firmly behind me.
Back in my car, I tried to regroup. By itself, the revelation from Cody about Alice’s query hadn’t given me anything much to work with, but I’d convinced myself that if I followed this particular thread, I’d end upsomewhere. Yet, it was lookingnow as if Shannon had never been on retreat, and Alice might have even determined this before she died.
What I needed to do now was get back to my computer, continuing to retrace what I hoped were Alice’s digital footsteps. Perhaps I’d missed a critical detail and needed to review areas I’d already covered.
I drained the lukewarm remains of my coffee and stared back at the Claiborne house. There were a couple of things about the visit that gnawed at me. For one, Kelly’s comment about Shannon’s 24-7 involvement as a mother. Shannon was supposedly kicking her career back into gear, working as a marketer for Baker Beverage, but Kelly’s comment seemed to indicate she wasn’t aware of that. Maybe Shannon, hoping to avoid judgment on Kelly’s part, had decided not to let her in on the news.
Poor Shannon. She’d probably never been able to win with her older sister, who considered her too involved with herself one minute and too involved with the kids the next. That was one of the problems with being both beautiful and talented. People overscrutinized you for flaws and when they couldn’t find any, they blew up a momentary error into a deficiency. Or they trivialized your accomplishments—like J.J. had done by categorizing Shannon’s work at Baker as simply “giving herself something to do.”
I was also thinking about the real estate agent’s business card. One of the Claibornes might have tucked it under the lamp or a real estate agent could have left it there after showing the house to a prospective buyer. I googled the number for the agency and talked to someone at the office who gave me Janice Talbot’s cell number.
“This is Janice,” she said when I reached her a minute later.
I introduced myself, and inquired if the house on Linden Lane was on the market.
“Um, yes and no. Ihadbeen showing it, but for personal reasons the sellers recently decided to take it off the market temporarily. But I have some fabulous properties I could show you that are very comparable in style and price.”
“Let me think about it, all right? I was in that house once for a baby shower, and I loved it, so maybe I’ll wait until it’s available again. Why are the owners thinking of selling, do you know?”
A pause before the answer as she chose the right words.
“They love the house, but I think they’re looking to downsize. Why don’t you give me your contact info so when it does come back on the market, I can reach you?”
I told her I’d prefer to be the one reaching out and signed off. I didn’t buy her explanation for the sale. The daughter was still around five years away from college or moving out.
