All Night Long

her.”
    “I never would have recognized her. She looks so . . .”
    “What?”
    “I don’t know,” Maxine admitted. “So different, I guess. Not like that poor, brokenhearted girl emember seeing at the funerals.”
    “Where did Irene go to live after the deaths of her parents?”
    “I’m not sure, to be honest. On the night of the murder-suicide, one of the police officers, a man named Bob Thornhill, took Irene home with him. The next day an elderly aunt arrived to take charge of Irene. We never saw her again after they buried her folks.”

    “Until now.”
    Maxine did not take her eyes off Irene.” I can’t get over how she’s changed. She’s so sophisticated-looking. Like I said, she never even dated back in high school.”
    “Probably dates now,” Luke said. “A lot.”
    He could not imagine any man ignoring that cool, subtle, feminine challenge.
    “Who would have guessed she’d turn out so classy and stylish?” Maxine went back to the coffee tabl nd got very busy. “Let’s see, she would be about thirty-two now. Still using her own name, too. Sounds like she never married. Or maybe she’s divorced and took back her own name.”
    “She didn’t mention a husband,” Luke said. He would have remembered that. “No ring, either.”
    “Wonder why she came back?”
    “To see Pamela Webb, apparently.”
    “Then she goes’and finds Pamela’s body.” Maxine dumped the used coffee grounds into the trash. “I mean, unless you’re a cop or something, what are the odds that you would accidentally stumble over
    three
dead bodies in your entire life, let alone before you even turn forty? Most people only see bodie t funerals, which isn’t the same thing at all.”
    “You were with your mother when she died.”
    “Yes, but—” Maxine paused, frowning a little, as though not certain how to explain.
    “She had been il or a long time and undergoing hospice care. Her death wasn’t sudden or violent or unexpected, if you know what I mean. It was peaceful in an odd way. More like a transition of some kind.”
    “I understand,” Luke said quietly.
    She was right, he thought. The violently and the unexpectedly dead looked very different. The living who were unfortunate enough to come upon them without any warning or preparation had no time to process the awful reality in a
normal
, careful way.

    And some things were too terrible to ever be completely processed, he thought. You either learned t ock them away or you went under.
    “Poor Irene. It’s not as if all three of the bodies she found were strangers, either.”
    Maxine filled th offee machine with fresh water from a jug. “First her parents and now the woman who was once her best friend.”
    What were the odds? Luke wondered. The question had plagued him all night and still nagged at him this morning, a tiny spark that could ignite a forest fire if he didn’t stomp it out.
    Dots. They were the bane of his existence. The compulsion to connect them in order to find patterns was an addiction.
    Don’t go there
, he thought.
You do not need this problem. You’ve got enough of
your own. You’re supposed to be trying to get your life back together. That’s a
[_full-time occupation at the moment. _]
    Maxine ladled coffee into a paper filter. “After her aunt took her away, there was a lot of talk around town about how Irene had probably been traumatized for life.
    Folks said she would never be the same after that night when she found her parents on the kitchen floor. They said she would never really be normal, if you know what I mean.”
    “Yeah,” Luke said softly, “I know what you mean.”
    Maxine watched Irene with worried eyes. “I overheard Mrs.Holton telling everyone that finding Pamela’s body last night might be too much for poor Irene after what happened in the past. She said it might push her over the edge.”
    Luke watched Irene walk past the window, heading toward the front door of the lobby. Her face was set and resolute. Not the expression of an unstable woman who was about to go off a cliff, he decided. More like the face of a woman with an agenda.
    The door opened. Irene walked into the room, bringing another wave of the crisp morning air with her.
    Good morning
didn’t seem appropriate under the circumstances, Luke thought. He searched for another, more suitable greeting.
    “Hey,” he said. Who said he couldn’t do social repartee?

    She smiled a little, but her eyes were wary and watchful.