of my concerns and wanted to make amends. “The Polanskis. But that was a long time ago.”
“But I remember the Polanskis! They were much older—”
I felt a jolt. And embarrassment. “About the age I am now, I suppose. But I remember Mr. Polanski owned a meat market, and they had this great flock of towheaded grand-children—”
“Yeah, I was one of ’em.” Detective Dixon grinned. “On holidays we’d descend like a herd of hungry locusts. I broke my ankle jumping out of an upstairs window, playing Superman or something. But the house is gone. I think there’s a Blockbuster Video there now.”
“Yes, Madison Street has changed.” I didn’t add the obvious. Not for the better. “I don’t suppose your grandparents are still alive?”
“They died about ten years ago. Within a few weeks of each other.”
I put my hand out in silent sympathy, and he clasped it. Then, totally surprising me, he added a big hug.
“I don’t really think the body in the morgue is your friend, but we’ll check it out.” He patted the shirt pocket where he’d put the notebook. “Then you won’t need to be worrying about her.”
I nodded. But now we were down to a final point I’d been considering.
10
“I think . . .” I paused and swallowed an uprising of squeamishness. “I think I could probably tell if it’s Kendra if I saw the body. Unless, since it may have been in the water several days . . .”
Matt Dixon hesitated before speaking. “Actually, the body is in fairly good shape.” Another pause, this one reflective. “Considering.”
Considering. The squeamishness reared up again, but I didn’t rescind the offer.
“But I’m not sure . . . Look, I’ll check with my superiors and get back to you, okay? There’s a couple from Philadelphia who thinks this may be their daughter who disappeared last month. They’re flying in today. If they can identify the body or if we can determine that Kendra Alexander just moved in with her boyfriend or something, there won’t be any need to put you through this. Identifying a body can be a . . . traumatic experience.”
A new thought occurred to me, and I brightened. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but there may have been a family emergency out in California, and that was why Kendra left so abruptly. Maybe I’ll hear from her in a few days. Or today.”
“Right. Good thinking. You let me know if that happens.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Just don’t let this prey on your mind now, okay?”
* * *
I hoped I’d hear good news from Detective Dixon by that evening. Kendra was alive and well somewhere. Or, tragic as it would be, that the Philadelphia couple had eliminated Kendra by identifying the body as their daughter. But the only time the phone rang was when Magnolia called. She small-talked for several minutes, obviously waiting for me to come up with an explanation about my afternoon visitor. I waited her out, and Magnolia eventually tired of the roundabout approach.
“I saw a police car in your driveway earlier. I’ve been wondering what it was doing there.”
I had anticipated Magnolia’s curiosity, so I had an answer ready. “It was just a little matter to do with Thea’s place.”
True. Although a rather narrow version of the truth.
“It hasn’t been broken into, I hope? There’s so much crime these days.”
“Oh no. Just the police checking up on things.”
Magnolia apparently hadn’t yet made a possible connection between Thea’s disappearing renter and the body in the river, and I saw no point in passing along speculations.
“I’m looking forward to the barbecue,” I added brightly to dodge further questions.
* * *
I skipped the stakeout at the cemetery that night. Next evening I carried my warm peach cobbler over to Magnolia and Geoff’s house. The city didn’t allow long-term parking of recreational vehicles in driveways or on the street, so Geoff had taken their motor home to a
“But I remember the Polanskis! They were much older—”
I felt a jolt. And embarrassment. “About the age I am now, I suppose. But I remember Mr. Polanski owned a meat market, and they had this great flock of towheaded grand-children—”
“Yeah, I was one of ’em.” Detective Dixon grinned. “On holidays we’d descend like a herd of hungry locusts. I broke my ankle jumping out of an upstairs window, playing Superman or something. But the house is gone. I think there’s a Blockbuster Video there now.”
“Yes, Madison Street has changed.” I didn’t add the obvious. Not for the better. “I don’t suppose your grandparents are still alive?”
“They died about ten years ago. Within a few weeks of each other.”
I put my hand out in silent sympathy, and he clasped it. Then, totally surprising me, he added a big hug.
“I don’t really think the body in the morgue is your friend, but we’ll check it out.” He patted the shirt pocket where he’d put the notebook. “Then you won’t need to be worrying about her.”
I nodded. But now we were down to a final point I’d been considering.
10
“I think . . .” I paused and swallowed an uprising of squeamishness. “I think I could probably tell if it’s Kendra if I saw the body. Unless, since it may have been in the water several days . . .”
Matt Dixon hesitated before speaking. “Actually, the body is in fairly good shape.” Another pause, this one reflective. “Considering.”
Considering. The squeamishness reared up again, but I didn’t rescind the offer.
“But I’m not sure . . . Look, I’ll check with my superiors and get back to you, okay? There’s a couple from Philadelphia who thinks this may be their daughter who disappeared last month. They’re flying in today. If they can identify the body or if we can determine that Kendra Alexander just moved in with her boyfriend or something, there won’t be any need to put you through this. Identifying a body can be a . . . traumatic experience.”
A new thought occurred to me, and I brightened. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before, but there may have been a family emergency out in California, and that was why Kendra left so abruptly. Maybe I’ll hear from her in a few days. Or today.”
“Right. Good thinking. You let me know if that happens.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Just don’t let this prey on your mind now, okay?”
* * *
I hoped I’d hear good news from Detective Dixon by that evening. Kendra was alive and well somewhere. Or, tragic as it would be, that the Philadelphia couple had eliminated Kendra by identifying the body as their daughter. But the only time the phone rang was when Magnolia called. She small-talked for several minutes, obviously waiting for me to come up with an explanation about my afternoon visitor. I waited her out, and Magnolia eventually tired of the roundabout approach.
“I saw a police car in your driveway earlier. I’ve been wondering what it was doing there.”
I had anticipated Magnolia’s curiosity, so I had an answer ready. “It was just a little matter to do with Thea’s place.”
True. Although a rather narrow version of the truth.
“It hasn’t been broken into, I hope? There’s so much crime these days.”
“Oh no. Just the police checking up on things.”
Magnolia apparently hadn’t yet made a possible connection between Thea’s disappearing renter and the body in the river, and I saw no point in passing along speculations.
“I’m looking forward to the barbecue,” I added brightly to dodge further questions.
* * *
I skipped the stakeout at the cemetery that night. Next evening I carried my warm peach cobbler over to Magnolia and Geoff’s house. The city didn’t allow long-term parking of recreational vehicles in driveways or on the street, so Geoff had taken their motor home to a
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