Third Degree (A Murder 101 Mystery)

didn’t have to mention that I had seen a man die and subsequently, his dead body, and that was the reason for my sullenness; telling Crawford that would be a little ridiculous. He had probably seen a dozen dead bodies in as many days in the past month.
    He looked over my head and saw the damage. “Have I taught you nothing?” he asked Fred. “You’ve got better skills than that.”
    “I was hungry,” Fred said. Oh, that explains it.
    I asked Crawford to come with me to the grocery store. Before we left, I asked Max to walk the dog. When I saw that she was going to object, citing her hatred of anything on four legs, I shot her a look and pointed at her. “Not a word. The leash is hanging right there,” I said, pointing to the hook that Crawford had installed by the back door.
    We went outside and I heard someone call my name. Across the street, my neighbor and friend, Jane Farnsworth, was jogging across her lawn and making her way toward mine. “Alison!” she called, waving as she ran. She joined us on the driveway and caught her breath. “Did you hear what happened?” she asked and then, taking in my appearance, revised her question. “What happened to you?”
    “Long story,” I said.
    She stared at the black eye for a few seconds and that reminded me of just how bad I looked. I needed a big pair of sunglasses. “Did you hear about Carter Wilmott?” she asked, starting to cry.
    “I did,” I said. “Did you know him?”
    She nodded. “Lydia is a friend of mine,” she said. “We met in playgroup when Brendan and her son, Tyler, were two.”
    Small town, I thought. Everyone knows everyone. Except for me. I don’t know anyone except for Jane, her two sons, and her partner, Kathy. I had never laid eyes on Carter or Lydia before the past two days. “I just saw Lydia,” I said, and could sense Crawford’s surprise; I knew there would be questions to answer on that front. “I was there when he died.”
    Jane grabbed her chest and gasped. “You were?”
    “I was. He died quickly,” I assured her, this becoming my mantra. I suspected it wouldn’t be the last time I recited that fact about Carter’s death.
    “Lydia is devastated.” She wiped her hands across her eyes. “She hasn’t made arrangements yet. There’s going to be an autopsy. He was as healthy as a horse.” Clearly, Jane didn’t know the exact details of what had happened, the blow to the head, or the fact that Carter was in distress before that happened. She also didn’t mention the car exploding and I wondered if Lydia left that little tidbit out of the conversation. Seemed likely. A lot had happened that day.
    “Would you let me know when the arrangements are finalized?” I asked.
    Jane seemed a little surprised that I would want that information but she assured me that she would. “I’ll call you later.” She broke down and I put my arms around her, happy to be comforting her and not the one being comforted. I’m in that position far too often and felt as though I were using up all of the good will I had in the comfort bank. When she composed herself, she kissed my cheek and started back toward her house.
    Inside the house, I heard Max calling to Trixie. I knew the dog wouldn’t come. She finds Max exhausting and hides under the dining room table every time she’s around. I took that into account when I had asked Max to walk her; it would take at least a half hour to track the dog down and get her on the leash, which would hopefully keep Max occupied during my absence. Leaving Max without a task is akin to giving a toddler a roll of toilet paper: there won’t be too much of a mess but you’ll still have a lot to clean up. “Will there be a murder investigation?” I asked as we walked to the car.
    He opened the passenger side door for me. “Sounds like they’ve already got the guy.”
    I slid in and waited for him to get into the car. “George Miller.”
    “They’ll probably get him on manslaughter. The fight, the big blow to the head, it’s all there.” He looked over at me and could tell that I was dubious. “Whatever you’re thinking, Inspector Clouseau, forget about it. The police will investigate, and hopefully find out, who put the device on the engine, and that person will go away for attempted murder along with George Miller,” he said, stressing “attempted.” “But if you want more information, call my brother, the hotshot lawyer, and have at it.” He backed down the driveway, our