Here She Lies

was always alert at my side. I had never suffered such vigilance when he drove and tonight, staring at the quivering electronic blip, I became hypnotized by our quiet and the drone of the road. Before I realized I’d closed my eyes, I was asleep.

Chapter 8
    The driver’s-side door slammed shut and I opened my eyes. It was eight in the morning and we were parked outside Julie’s big red barn-house with its wraparound lawn, pale salmon rhododendron bushes and neat curb — a picture postcard whose perfection seemed to distance it from the murder that had taken place right out front, on the street, now rain-washed clean of Zara Moklas. Bobby was halfway across the lawn to the kitchen door. My rental car, which Julie had been driving in my absence, was not in her usual spot in the driveway; in its place was a gardener’s pickup truck loaded with landscaping equipment. As I crossed to the house I caught the bright scent of freshly cut grass. The buzz of a lawn mower I couldn’t see floated in the limpid morning air.
    Bobby pulled open the outer screen door and waited for me. I dug into my purse for my key ring, a jangly amalgamation of keys from Lexington and Great Barrington that I had never taken the time to separate despite the growing bulk. When I reached the door Ifound him reading a note Julie had taped to the interior glass: Mica, I’ll be out all morning, so when you get here please get right to work on the lawn and the flower beds. If I’m not back by noon, I’ll pay you next week. Thanks, Julie.
    I opened the door with my key. Immediately the alarm started its series of warning bleeps, the one-minute grace period before it went off. Ever since the malarm, the escalating bleeps had triggered anxiety and now, as I input the code Julie had taught me, my pulse hammered in my ears, the machine feeling again, turning me on for action. Then the red light turned green and my pulse slowed to normal. I pushed open the door and walked into the kitchen.
    “Julie? I’m home!”
    Bobby followed me in and disappeared up the back staircase. I could hear his footsteps upstairs as I walked through the dining room, sitting room and into the living room. The quiet — I could feel it. It was no surprise when Bobby came down the living room stairs alone.
    “They’re not upstairs,” he said.
    “I guess they went out somewhere.”
    “This early in the morning? Where?”
    “Anywhere — errands, playground, both. Who knows?”
    “I wonder if she saw the gardener before she left.” And with that, he was out the door. In a moment he appeared in the backyard, framed in the living room window. Bobby must have called Mica’s name, because he too entered the frame and they stood together, talking. Mica was a small, stocky Mexican man with a purplebandanna tied around his head. Julie had told me he came every other week, her only concession to hired help until her thwarted intention of asking Zara Moklas to take on the heavy housecleaning. Bobby was doing most of the talking while Mica listened and spoke just a little. Behind them a squad car drove past on Division Street, slowing as it reached Julie’s, then picking up speed and moving on — the last phase of our security detail, I guessed. It reminded me that I was supposed to call the Great Barrington police to check in when I arrived. I called from the living room phone but didn’t ask for Detective Lazare. I simply told the receptionist to please put it on record that I was officially here. Then I went outside to join Bobby and Mica.
    I found Bobby on the stone patio, watching Mica push away a wheelbarrow full of pulled weeds.
    “So?” I asked.
    “He didn’t see her.”
    “What were you talking about?”
    “I asked him how long he’s worked for her and what it’s been like.”
    “Why?”
    “Why not?”
    “Oh, Bobby !”
    “There was no harm in asking.”
    I couldn’t argue with that old saw, but still I didn’t like it. “You’re being paranoid about Julie. Do you realize that?”
    He didn’t answer and I was too tired to pursue it. I plunked myself down in one of the canvas patio chairs and he sat down next to me. We were both exhausted.I didn’t agree with him about Julie and the earrings, but in truth I understood why he had jumped to that conclusion. Diamond studs, though, were common, and so were white diamonds, which was probably why the crook had ordered them specifically: they’d be easy to sell. Bobby was as eager as I was to get answers