“Let’s just say I wouldn’t have put it past her, but there were family arguments that drifted out of their windows on a regular basis.” Ginny shrugged, as though screaming matches heard from across the street were simply part of the neighborhood’s texture. “They fought about curfew, grades, Grant. If Iris had something on her parents, I’m guessing she would have used it to put an end to those kinds of arguments rather than keep having them.”
The sound of a door slamming somewhere in the back of the house had Ginny’s shoulders tensing with immediate, visible panic. A man’s voice called out from the direction of the foyer, deep and expectant.
“Gin? You home?” The voice grew louder as heavy footsteps approached through the house. “Ginny?”
Ginny’s composure cracked. She leaned forward in her chair, nearly spilling what remained of her lemonade, and her voice dropped to an urgent whisper.
“Please, don’t mention anything about my former trainer. It would destroy my husband, and...” She straightened abruptly,setting her glass on the side table just as a man rounded the corner from the dining room. “Darling, what are you doing home?”
Todd Kusman’s steps slowed as he entered the living room and registered the scene before him. He was a solidly built man whose expensive suit couldn’t quite disguise the slight paunch at his midsection. His tie hung loosely at his collar, and his jacket was unbuttoned, giving him a disheveled, end-of-day appearance that contrasted sharply with his wife’s carefully assembled presentation.
“Gin, is everything alright?” Todd crossed to Ginny’s chair and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head with casual affection. He never once took his gaze off their visitors. “I’m Todd Kusman. And you two are?”
“Todd, this is Detective Kinsley Aspen and Officer Toby Drewett,” Ginny said, completing the introductions with a composure that had reassembled itself with remarkable speed. “I guess that foreclosure crew found something that has the police looking into Iris’s murder again.”
Kinsley got the distinct impression that Todd was already well aware of what had been discovered at the Bell mansion. Whether Richard had called him directly or the information had traveled through the neighborhood’s efficient gossip network, Todd’s surprise was performative. He was playing the part of the uninformed husband, and he was playing it competently but not quite well enough to fool someone who studied people for a living.
“Iris Bell? That case was solved over thirty years ago.” He remained standing beside Ginny’s chair, his posture shifting subtly to place himself more directly between his wife and their visitors. The positioning was protective, proprietary, and probably unconscious. “What’s there to investigate after all this time?”
“We’re just going over some previous statements,” Kinsley offered, keeping her response deliberately vague. The handkerchief was being pleated nervously between Ginny’s fingers. “Since you’re here, maybe you can clarify something for us.”
“I can try,” Todd replied cautiously, slipping his hands into his pockets. “As I said, thirty years is a long time. Memories fade. You know how it is.”
“Of course.” Kinsley nodded agreeably. “From my understanding, you joined the block party late that evening. You’d been at work?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Todd confirmed, and Kinsley noted the ease of the answer. This was comfortable ground for him. “I was working on commission back then. Long hours.”
“So, when you were walking from your house to the Wilsons’ place for the block party, is there a reason you didn’t notice the Bells’ front door hanging wide open?”
The question landed in the room like something heavy dropped from a height. The silence that followed was broken only when Toby cleared his throat, a small sound that drew Todd’s attention sideways and seemed to remind him that the question was still waiting for an answer.
“I was in a hurry to join my wife.” Todd placed his hand on Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny was staring up at him with an expression that suggested the question of why he hadn’t noticed what Darlene had that night had genuinely never occurred to her before. “It had been a long day, and I was looking forward to unwinding.”
Kinsley took a moment to turn and peer over her shoulder through the large bay window behind them. The Bell mansion was visible directly across the street, its front porch and entrance in plain view. The gesture was deliberate, and its point was impossible to miss. The distance between the Kusman house andthe Bells’ front door was barely fifty yards. Even in fading light, even in a hurry, it would have been difficult to walk past an open door on a property that close without registering it.
By the time Kinsley turned back around, Ginny had reached up and covered Todd’s hand with her own. The tension in the room had thickened to the point where it was almost palpable, and Kinsley decided to ease the pressure by a degree. Pushing too hard now might shut both of them down, and she still had questions that needed asking.
“Did you, by chance, notice anything else out of the ordinary that night? You walked past Darlene Barrett, correct? Waved hello?”
“Yes,” Todd replied with a curt nod, his hand still on Ginny’s shoulder. “I did the same with Mrs. Sadler. Oh, and Shannon, though she was driving out of the neighborhood. I assumed she had been dropping off some papers for Richard.”
Todd glanced down at his wife, who was frowning in confusion.
“Shannon Utgoff?” Ginny shook her head. “Shannon never came to the block party with papers.”
“Are you sure?” Todd pressed, seemingly grateful that the spotlight had shifted off him. He turned back to Kinsley with something close to eagerness. “I don’t see how it’s relevant to the case when Tatlock was found guilty, but I do recall Shannon driving past the house that night.”
“And who exactly is Shannon Utgoff?” Kinsley asked, keeping her voice casual while Toby readied his pen over his notepad.
“Shannon used to work for Richard back then,” Todd said, gesturing toward the house across the street. “She was his administrative assistant.”
“And lover,” Ginny replied quietly, dropping her hand from her husband’s. “Let’s face it, everyone knew that Richard was sleeping with his secretary.”
Kinsley said nothing, letting the silence work. Shannon. The name from the tape in Richard’s office, the name Eden had spoken in the way of a wife who already knew the answer to her own question.Will Shannon be at this dinner?Now the name had a surname, a job title, and a confirmed presence in the neighborhood on the night Iris Bell was murdered.
The investigation had just gotten considerably more complicated.
15
