Hendrickson’s death certificate.
Mary Jane’s date of death was listed as March 3, 1898. Ceely Rose had murdered her family on March 3, 1897, exactly one year earlier to the day. Still looking at the dates, I realized I had my hands over my mouth and was breathing fast. What all this meant, I had no idea, but I knew I was getting closer to what Walter had been trying to tell me. What I had a hard time believing, other than the dates themselves, was that no one else had ever put all this together.
“Hey, Cee, what’s the matter? Are you sick?” I looked up to see Coop standing in my doorway, a faint look of alarm on his face. I still had my hands over my mouth and he probably thought I was going to throw up, so I lowered them and grabbed Mary Jane’s death certificate.
“Coop, you have to look at this!” I handed him the paper and sat back, feeling pretty proud of myself. A modern-day Sherlock Holmes, I was.
I had forgotten that Coop didn’t know anything about the Ceely Rose connection I’d gotten from Walter, so I quickly filled him in. Then I brought him up to speed on why I had given him the certificate. I reached over to my computer and turned the screen to face Coop, the website on Ceely Rose still displayed.
“Look at the date of the murders,” I said. Coop’s eyes narrowed as he read the fine print of the old article. When he finished, he looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Evidently, he didn’t get it yet.
“For crying out loud, Coop,” I snapped. “Look at the dates! Mary Jane Hendrickson died on the same day Ceely Rose killed her family, only it was a year later.”
He sat down and peered more closely at the death certificate. I started rubbing my eyes in frustration, trying to suppress the urge to call him a moron. I really adored Coop and he was a fantastic detective, but sometimes he could be pretty dense.
“It is weird, I’ll give you that,” he admitted, handing the certificate back to me. “But I still don’t see what it has to do with the Kari Sutter murder.”
“Maybe nothing. Most likely nothing, but there’s that slim chance that all of this will lead me somewhere.” I slapped my stack of files, elated at my newfound discovery, and decided to go home for the day. It was the first time in a while I had gotten out of work at a normal hour.
I stopped at the grocery store on my way home and grabbed some things for dinner. I rarely cooked. In fact, I downright hated to cook. Luckily, I had found two men who liked cooking more than I did, so Michael, like Eric before him, usually made dinner.
My discovery made me so high, I decided to cook dinner. Sean was going home the next day, which made all of us sad, and I didn’t have to work, so to night would be special.
Michael started laughing as soon he walked into the kitchen after getting home from work. I was elbow deep in tomato sauce, splatters of it on my face, while I made lasagna. Since I didn’t cook very much, I hadn’t exactly mastered the art of doing it neatly.
“You’re supposed to make the dinner, hon, not wear it,” he mused. “You’re cooking? Congratulations on solving your case.”
“Very funny.” I glared, wiping at my face. “I did make a discovery, though. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Michael couldn’t help coming to my assistance. He rolled up his sleeves and essentially took over. I slipped away to let him roll out the rest of the meal. I set the table instead and a lovely job it was, too, if I say so myself.
Since it was a rare occasion for us all to sit down and eat together, the kids had a good time, laughing and telling stories. They were thrilled when Michael took us out afterward for ice cream. We had to carry the children upstairs to bed after they’d fallen asleep during the second video we had rented.
I was finally able to tell Michael about my small but interesting breakthrough. He was dumbfounded. “You’re sure it was the same date?”
As I had with Coop, I didn’t
Mary Jane’s date of death was listed as March 3, 1898. Ceely Rose had murdered her family on March 3, 1897, exactly one year earlier to the day. Still looking at the dates, I realized I had my hands over my mouth and was breathing fast. What all this meant, I had no idea, but I knew I was getting closer to what Walter had been trying to tell me. What I had a hard time believing, other than the dates themselves, was that no one else had ever put all this together.
“Hey, Cee, what’s the matter? Are you sick?” I looked up to see Coop standing in my doorway, a faint look of alarm on his face. I still had my hands over my mouth and he probably thought I was going to throw up, so I lowered them and grabbed Mary Jane’s death certificate.
“Coop, you have to look at this!” I handed him the paper and sat back, feeling pretty proud of myself. A modern-day Sherlock Holmes, I was.
I had forgotten that Coop didn’t know anything about the Ceely Rose connection I’d gotten from Walter, so I quickly filled him in. Then I brought him up to speed on why I had given him the certificate. I reached over to my computer and turned the screen to face Coop, the website on Ceely Rose still displayed.
“Look at the date of the murders,” I said. Coop’s eyes narrowed as he read the fine print of the old article. When he finished, he looked at me as if I had lost my mind. Evidently, he didn’t get it yet.
“For crying out loud, Coop,” I snapped. “Look at the dates! Mary Jane Hendrickson died on the same day Ceely Rose killed her family, only it was a year later.”
He sat down and peered more closely at the death certificate. I started rubbing my eyes in frustration, trying to suppress the urge to call him a moron. I really adored Coop and he was a fantastic detective, but sometimes he could be pretty dense.
“It is weird, I’ll give you that,” he admitted, handing the certificate back to me. “But I still don’t see what it has to do with the Kari Sutter murder.”
“Maybe nothing. Most likely nothing, but there’s that slim chance that all of this will lead me somewhere.” I slapped my stack of files, elated at my newfound discovery, and decided to go home for the day. It was the first time in a while I had gotten out of work at a normal hour.
I stopped at the grocery store on my way home and grabbed some things for dinner. I rarely cooked. In fact, I downright hated to cook. Luckily, I had found two men who liked cooking more than I did, so Michael, like Eric before him, usually made dinner.
My discovery made me so high, I decided to cook dinner. Sean was going home the next day, which made all of us sad, and I didn’t have to work, so to night would be special.
Michael started laughing as soon he walked into the kitchen after getting home from work. I was elbow deep in tomato sauce, splatters of it on my face, while I made lasagna. Since I didn’t cook very much, I hadn’t exactly mastered the art of doing it neatly.
“You’re supposed to make the dinner, hon, not wear it,” he mused. “You’re cooking? Congratulations on solving your case.”
“Very funny.” I glared, wiping at my face. “I did make a discovery, though. I’ll tell you about it later.”
Michael couldn’t help coming to my assistance. He rolled up his sleeves and essentially took over. I slipped away to let him roll out the rest of the meal. I set the table instead and a lovely job it was, too, if I say so myself.
Since it was a rare occasion for us all to sit down and eat together, the kids had a good time, laughing and telling stories. They were thrilled when Michael took us out afterward for ice cream. We had to carry the children upstairs to bed after they’d fallen asleep during the second video we had rented.
I was finally able to tell Michael about my small but interesting breakthrough. He was dumbfounded. “You’re sure it was the same date?”
As I had with Coop, I didn’t
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