The last time I had spoken to Brendan had been two weeks ago, during our last morning at our local citizens’ police academy. He’d been toting that same piece of luggage for his grandmother as he’d helped her into the bus that would take them both home. Our farewells had been cordial, but that was before any of us had known about the dead man in her backyard.
I glanced past him, to his grandmother’s empty driveway across the street. Mrs. Haggerty’s windows were still dark. Yellow police tape drooped from the corners of her fence, and the muddy tracks of a backhoe still trailed down her frost-covered lawn.
Brendan’s shiny white Volvo idled at the curb in front of my house. Steam billowed from its exhaust pipe and ghosted across my sidewalk. He sagged with relief as I stepped aside and held the door open, making an opening wide enough for him to wedge the giant suitcase past me into the foyer.
Vero ran a hand through her hair, primping as she hurried down the stairs. She skidded to a stop on the bottom step, frowning at Mrs. Haggerty. “What the hell is she doing here? And why does our foyer look like the baggage claim at Dulles?”
I shot Vero a look. “What Vero means is that we didn’t expect you back so soon, Mrs. Haggerty.”
“Why wouldn’t I come back?” the woman quipped. “Just because a body turned up in my yard doesn’t give anyone the right to assume I’m guilty of anything. I never met that man before in my life. I told the police as much, but I guess they had to figure that out for themselves. Took them long enough,” she muttered, unbuttoning her coat. “Those brutes had no business putting me in handcuffs. They’re lucky I didn’t sue the police department for unnecessary roughness.”
“I think you mean unnecessary force, Grandma,” Brendan gently corrected her. He set down the suitcase he was holding and rushed to help her out of her coat. When I didn’t offer to take it from him, he folded it awkwardly over his arm. “I apologize for barging in. It’s just that the power is still off in my grandmother’s house, and it’s freezing over there.” He rubbed warmth back into his hands. The tips of his ears and nose were red under the lights of my foyer, andI could practically feel the cold February air from outside radiating from them both. I could only imagine the state of Mrs. Haggerty’s home. It had been sitting vacant, without power, since the whole ordeal started a week ago.
Brendan continued in a low voice, “The Commonwealth’s Attorney dropped all charges and released Maggie tonight. She insisted on going straight home, but the place is a wreck. There was a lot of damage from the flood, and there’s no way I’ll be able to get someone out to fix it over the weekend—”
“Which is why I’m staying here,” Mrs. Haggerty finished.
“Here?” Vero shrieked.
“I’d let her come home with me, but my condo is only one bedroom, on the third floor,” Brendan explained.
“Isn’t thereanyoneelse who can take her?” Vero asked.
Brendan shook his head. “We don’t have any other family in the area, and she insisted on staying close to home.”
“I’m sure she’d be more comfortable in a hotel,” I suggested.
“Hotels are expensive,” Mrs. Haggerty snapped.
Vero thrust my purse at me. “Finlay would be more than happy to pay for it.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll be just fine here,” Mrs. Haggerty said, dragging her carry-on toward the stairs.
Vero leapt into her path. “You can’t stay here! We have bedbugs. And lice. And a kid in preschool! This place is a Petri dish of child-borne diseases. You’d probably get cooties.”
Mrs. Haggerty pushed her aside. “I’ll take my chances.”
Brendan offered an apologetic smile as his grandmother helped herself up my staircase. One age-spotted hand gripped the banister as she lugged her tiny bag behind her, grunting like Yoda with every step and grumbling to herself when she finally reached the top. Vero grittedher teeth when the woman moved down the hall, poking her head in each of our bedrooms, giving herself the grand tour of my home.
I turned sharply to her grandson. There were limits to neighborly obligations, and I was pretty sure harboring a murder suspect was one of them. I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. “My children are sleeping upstairs, and you’re asking me to take in a woman who is being investigated for murder!”
“A murder she clearly didn’t commit,” he argued. “The police never would have released her if they thought she was guilty. Does she look like someone who could bury a grown man and get away with it?”
I refrained from answering that. I probably didn’t look like one either, and I’d moved more bodies over the last four and a half months than I cared to admit.
He raised his hands in supplication. “My grandmother didn’t even know the man. All she wants to do is go home.”
“I know you’re in a bind, but there must be someone else your grandmother can stay with.”
“Preferably someone on another coast,” Vero muttered.
“She specifically asked to stay here,” Brendan said.
“Why would she do that? She doesn’t even like me!”
“Don’t be silly. She’s very fond of you.”
Vero snorted.
