Page 21 of Fallen Creed

“Nora,” Spencer stopped her. “He needs to be alone with the dog. That’s how they work together. They can’t have you following them around and interrupting.”

“Well, I think it would be beneficial if he knew—”

“No. Now sit down and eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Then drink your coffee. But stay put. You got him over here. Now let him do his job.”

Maggie sat at the table and watched their exchange. The Spencers were a study in contrasts, both physically and in personalities. Ted Spencer was a foot taller than his wife, thin, almost scrawny. His silver hair hung shaggy at the end of the day over his collar and stuck out over his ears. His ball cap had left a red line on his forehead that stood out from the other lines on his weathered face. He looked much older than his wife. He talked in a slow and steady manner, with a cadence that matched the way he walked.

Nora was five-two, at best, stocky and solid, with a deep well of energy. Compared to her husband’s relaxed gestures and sparse speech, Nora was in constant motion. Even when she wasn’t speaking, her facial expressions gave away her thoughts with a subtle eye roll or pursing of her lips.

“Agent O’Dell, can I get you a cup of coffee?” Nora needed something to do with her untapped energy.

“No, thank you.”

“If not coffee, I have some ice tea and cold pop.”

“Diet Pepsi?”

“Yup. Sure thing. Libby drinks Diet Pepsi,” she said happily and headed to the refrigerator, stopping at a cupboard to retrieve a glass.

Maggie almost stopped her, preferring it straight out of the can, but she certainly didn’t want to derail the woman from her mission.

“I’d like to ask a few questions about Libby,” Maggie said, keeping her tone casual.

Spencer gestured for her to take a seat at the kitchen table as he sat on one on the opposite side. With his wife’s back now facing them, he reached over and helped himself to half a sandwich.

The last sunlight was disappearing through the window over the sink, now only a yellow stain on the curtains. The countertop still had streaks of water from a fresh wipe-down. Despite the sandwiches and salad, there were no remnants of their makings. Nora kept a clean and efficient kitchen. But there was a sense of coziness here, too, with pleasant aromas. A cookie jar, breadbox and trivets took their places on the countertops, hinting of a busy but comfortable and content life.

“How long has Libby been living here with you?” Maggie asked, watching Spencer’s face even though she expected Nora to answer.

“Oh, let’s see. What’s it been, Ted? Six months?”

“It was just after Easter,” he said around a mouthful of bread and ham.

Nora deposited a glass with ice cubes and the cold can of Diet Pepsi in front of Maggie. She stayed on her feet, grabbing a plate and putting it on the table for her husband, gesturing for him to use it.

“You sure you won’t have a sandwich?” Nora asked.

“Sure, if you’ll join me,” Maggie said, realizing it might be the only way to get the woman to sit down.

She wanted Nora to lower her guard. It was a mistake to have been so confrontational with her back at the crime scene. People skills weren’t exactly Maggie’s forte. She was more comfortable with dead people and chasing killers. But if she hoped to get any useful information, she’d need to make Nora feel like she was on her side. That she could be a friend, not a foe.

“Where did you meet Libby?”

“I’m a nurse at the hospital. I was on duty when she was brought in after her suicide attempt.”

“You invited her to stay in your home?”

“She seemed so lost. She isn’t from Nebraska. No family. No relatives.”

“How did she end up out here?”

Nora shrugged.

“You didn’t ask her?”