I crossed the lawn. “Good morning.”
She turned to me. Her face was so lined it almost looked like it was caving in.
Maybe that was just because she’d lost all her teeth.
Yes, I think that was it.
“Morning,” she said.
“Can I help you with that?”
She shot me a peculiar look. Her beady eyes washed up and down my length. I almost commented that it felt like she was strip searching me with her eyes, but seeing as how I didn’t know exactly the way she would take the comment, I kept my trap shut.
After a few seconds she stepped aside so I could reach the basket. “If you like. I could always use a hand. Makes my arthritis flare. But you wouldn’t know anything about that—young as you are.”
“Oh, I’m not young.”
Her gaze drilled into me.
“Relatively speaking, I mean. It’s not like I’m sixteen or anything.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” She grabbed a blouse from the basket and gently folded one shoulder over the line before pinning it. “Kids these days look younger and younger. Ten-year-olds look like five-year-olds. Twenty-year-olds look like they’re ten.” She watched me from the corner of her eye. “But I guess that’s how it is when you live to be as old as me.”
I pulled a pillowcase from the basket and pinned it the way she’d done the shirt. The last thing I wanted was to screw up this woman’s laundry.
“How long have you lived here?”
“Oh, I think we moved in when I was thirty or so. Raised a family in it. Played with my grandchildren in it.”
My gaze drifted down the block. Many of the homes showed signs of wear. Paint peeled in ribbons off the sides. The colors had faded over the years and the trim had become dingy.
The gift of restoration had been bestowed on some homes. Probably younger couples bought because the housing was cheap and then spent cash fixing up the place. This woman’s house was definitely on the first side of that spectrum.
“Heard they found a body in there.” She nodded to the Jarvis place.
I blanched. I hadn’t expected her to gossip, seeing as she didn’t know me, but hey, I would take whatever I could get.
“They did. Her name was Molly Menzel. Did you know her?”
“No, I didn’t know a Molly, but who could keep up? There were so many folks coming and going from that place when it was an inn.”
Of course! She would’ve lived here then.
“Did you know the owners?” The basket was empty. I picked it up for her. “I’ll bring it inside.”
She eyed me coolly. “If I give you information, is that it?”
“I was sort of thinking that, yes.” I mean, why lie?
She laughed. “You’re honest. I like that. I’m Fannie Sullivan.”
“Blissful Breneaux.”
“Pretty name.”
“Thank you.”
She made sure a pair of pants was secure on the line and then turned to me. “Come on. I’ll tell you everything I can remember.”
