said. “Sure, she knew Stella. She came to her ever since Stella started work here two years ago. She lives down the street from Stella, too.”
“She has a son in high school?”
Alice examined a fingernail. “Yeah, she has a son. His name is Cody. I guess he’s a good son, because we never heard much about him. Women talk about the problems in their families but not the others, unless it’s about throwing a wedding or giving a big party or something like that. We usually hear about husbands.”
Jennifer held on to the edge of the desk and asked in a rush, “Do you know anyone who might have murdered Mrs. Trax?”
Alice leaned forward to stare myopically into Jennifer’s face. “How would I know anything about that?”
“I thought maybe you’d know if someone was threatening Mrs. Trax or frightening her.”
“Nope. Her life was going okay, far as I could see. No real problems.”
“Why did she quit her job here?”
Alice laughed. “Oh, honey, she didn’t quit. I fired her. She was off more than she was on. Always calling in with some excuse. I mean, if she’d been sick or something I could understand that, but she felt fine. I think she just had something else going on that kept her so busy she didn’t want to come to work.”
“You mean like another job?”
“Maybe. It could have been another job. Or it could have been a man. We’ll never know, will we?”
Jennifer sighed. “I’m trying to find out.”
“Well,” she said, “if it’s any help, I’d bet it was a man in her life. If it was a job it would have to pay awfully good money—more money than Stella was worth, because Stella liked to shop. Oh, lordy, did Stella shop! Why, one of my customers came back from a trip to Houston, and what do you think? She ran right into Stella in one of those big shopping malls! No, I’m sure. It had to be a man, one with a fat wallet.”
“Thanks for your help,” Jennifer said. “If I have any more questions, could I come by again?”
“Sure,” Alice said.
She went back to her fingernails, and Jennifer walked to the corner and sat on the bench at the bus stop. She took a spiral notebook out of her handbag and wrote down the names of the people at the funeral and everything she could remember that might be important.
She was aware that someone had sat at the end of the bench, but it wasn’t until she stretched to tuck away her notebook and pencil that the person spoke. “What’s in this for you?”
Jennifer jumped. “Elton!”
“Answer my question.” His skin was the deep mottled red of someone with sunburn upon sunburn, the creases around his eyes and mouth making him look much older than his twenty-four years.
Jennifer wasn’t afraid of Elton, but she was wary. She had talked to him on brief occasions when she was with Bobbie, but she didn’t know him as well as she knew Darryl. He had always been reserved and quiet and had seemed to be a part of the adult world.
“I’m trying to help Bobbie,” she said. “I don’t believe that she murdered her mother. That’s all I’m trying to do—help.”
“Give it up,” he said. “Don’t get in the way.”
Jennifer’s back stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning,” he said. He stood, and Jennifer scrambled to her feet, facing him.
“You don’t scare me,” she said.
“Too bad,” he said. “You might wish I had.” He turned abruptly, walked to an old, dented pickup truck parked in the middle of the block, and drove away.
A bus swooped down with a cloud of choking exhaust. Jennifer shook her head at the driver, who had opened the front door and was waiting for her, and walked quickly through the downtown area toward her home. This time when Lucas called, she’d have some positive news for him. But she couldn’t wait for his call. She phoned his number four times, eager to reach him, wanting to tell him about Elton, and desperate to move ahead, to learn something else, but his telephone rang on and on
“She has a son in high school?”
Alice examined a fingernail. “Yeah, she has a son. His name is Cody. I guess he’s a good son, because we never heard much about him. Women talk about the problems in their families but not the others, unless it’s about throwing a wedding or giving a big party or something like that. We usually hear about husbands.”
Jennifer held on to the edge of the desk and asked in a rush, “Do you know anyone who might have murdered Mrs. Trax?”
Alice leaned forward to stare myopically into Jennifer’s face. “How would I know anything about that?”
“I thought maybe you’d know if someone was threatening Mrs. Trax or frightening her.”
“Nope. Her life was going okay, far as I could see. No real problems.”
“Why did she quit her job here?”
Alice laughed. “Oh, honey, she didn’t quit. I fired her. She was off more than she was on. Always calling in with some excuse. I mean, if she’d been sick or something I could understand that, but she felt fine. I think she just had something else going on that kept her so busy she didn’t want to come to work.”
“You mean like another job?”
“Maybe. It could have been another job. Or it could have been a man. We’ll never know, will we?”
Jennifer sighed. “I’m trying to find out.”
“Well,” she said, “if it’s any help, I’d bet it was a man in her life. If it was a job it would have to pay awfully good money—more money than Stella was worth, because Stella liked to shop. Oh, lordy, did Stella shop! Why, one of my customers came back from a trip to Houston, and what do you think? She ran right into Stella in one of those big shopping malls! No, I’m sure. It had to be a man, one with a fat wallet.”
“Thanks for your help,” Jennifer said. “If I have any more questions, could I come by again?”
“Sure,” Alice said.
She went back to her fingernails, and Jennifer walked to the corner and sat on the bench at the bus stop. She took a spiral notebook out of her handbag and wrote down the names of the people at the funeral and everything she could remember that might be important.
She was aware that someone had sat at the end of the bench, but it wasn’t until she stretched to tuck away her notebook and pencil that the person spoke. “What’s in this for you?”
Jennifer jumped. “Elton!”
“Answer my question.” His skin was the deep mottled red of someone with sunburn upon sunburn, the creases around his eyes and mouth making him look much older than his twenty-four years.
Jennifer wasn’t afraid of Elton, but she was wary. She had talked to him on brief occasions when she was with Bobbie, but she didn’t know him as well as she knew Darryl. He had always been reserved and quiet and had seemed to be a part of the adult world.
“I’m trying to help Bobbie,” she said. “I don’t believe that she murdered her mother. That’s all I’m trying to do—help.”
“Give it up,” he said. “Don’t get in the way.”
Jennifer’s back stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a warning,” he said. He stood, and Jennifer scrambled to her feet, facing him.
“You don’t scare me,” she said.
“Too bad,” he said. “You might wish I had.” He turned abruptly, walked to an old, dented pickup truck parked in the middle of the block, and drove away.
A bus swooped down with a cloud of choking exhaust. Jennifer shook her head at the driver, who had opened the front door and was waiting for her, and walked quickly through the downtown area toward her home. This time when Lucas called, she’d have some positive news for him. But she couldn’t wait for his call. She phoned his number four times, eager to reach him, wanting to tell him about Elton, and desperate to move ahead, to learn something else, but his telephone rang on and on
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