Window of Guilt (3 page)

“Even so,” she said doubtfully.

“I’ll be right here studying.” Not. Her eyes would be peeled on the boys.

3

By eight o’clock p.m., the temperature had dropped to seventy-five degrees. Rocky playfully attacked the water hose as Laurie maneuvered it back and forth across the front yard. She was just about to water the section where the squirrel had died when she noticed a folded paper napkin clinging to the bottom branch of a nearby bush. Pointing the hose off to the side, she bent down and shook the ants from the napkin crease. Then she perused the writing. Laurie gasped. Her Wisconsin address stared back at her, its large block print slightly faded. Her Chicago address appeared beneath it in smaller ink-penned letters!

First her dream. Then the police officer’s appearance. Now this napkin with her personal information enclosed. Clutching the napkin, Laurie ambled towards the house, then remembered Ryan had gone to pick up some DVDs. Upon returning from the lake earlier tonight, he’d acted all kissy face. Laurie pushed him away, keeping mum about the day’s misadventures. “Not until you apologize for being a jerk this morning.”

“My health club bill is my business,” he’d muttered. “I’ve never asked you to pay for it.”

One year ago, for reasons he still refused to disclose, Ryan had up and quit his job as a health insurance adjuster. Two months later, he’d suffered a heart attack. Fortunately, Ryan had still qualified to Cobra out of his company’s health insurance plan. He was still paying off his crazy high deductible, forcing the family to severely reduce their monthly expenses. Exhibit A for why Laurie needed to pass her real estate exam and reboot her own professional life.

Laurie snickered. Her “professional life” had consisted of playing piano for nursing homes and writing press releases for local small businesses. In the first five years after Rory was born, she’d adeptly incorporated motherhood into her lifestyle. But once PTO meetings, reading literacy volunteer requests, and play dates burst to the forefront of her calendar, Laurie chucked her part-time gigs and jumped headlong into her son’s environment. She could afford to revel in her new life—that is, until the moment Ryan slammed his lucrative career as a health insurance adjuster into the toilet. Even now, he refused to share the particulars of the decision that had turned her world sideways.

This very morning, Laurie’s query about Ryan’s personal training bill had caused a hullabaloo. Accustomed to paying his own bills from a separate checking account—what little was left in it—Ryan had bristled at her intrusion into his business. She wondered whether the resentment boiling within her belly would have extinguished itself had he given her a heads-up.

Yet, she couldn’t stay mad at Ryan for long. Tonight when he asked what they were doing for dinner, she’d told him to fend for himself. Later he phoned from Walmart. “Got a couple of hot DVDs and a quart of ice cream,” he said, breathing heavy into the phone. Chuckling, she’d hung up on him. As if the family discount store carried X-rated movies! His humor was the mortar that bound them during these trying times.

Staring at the napkin, fear seared the playful feeling from Laurie’s soul. She wished Ryan were here to censor her imagination from running its solo marathon. You’re just overreacting, he would say. Indeed, it was possible the napkin had fallen out of Rory’s backpack. Her son probably copied his contact information to give a new camp buddy.

Exhausted by the vast array of sports activities he’d engaged in at camp this week, Rory had voluntarily gone up to his room early. Grabbing Rocky, Laurie bounded up the oak stairs, then hung out in the hall landing, waiting for Rory to turn off his electric Yu Gi O toothbrush.

“Rocky wants to brush, too,” Laurie said, posing the pup’s paw on his mouth.

Her son giggled, toothpaste dribbling down his chin.

“You laugh so hard, another tooth will fall out.”

“Really?” he asked, his brown eyes clouding.

“Kidding.”

“You sure? Basketball players can’t be toothless.”

“When you become a basketball player, you’ll definitely have a full set of teeth. That is, if you stay away from playing football.”

“But I want to play football, too.”

“Let’s run that one by your dad and see what he thinks.”

“He home yet?”

“Pretty soon.”

Rory wiped off his mouth, his eyes sparkling. “Great. I’ll wait up.”

Laurie laughed. “Nice try, but no cigar.”

Her son frowned. “What’s that mean?”

“That means you gotta go to sleep now, kiddo,” she said, taking him by the shoulders and steering him towards his room.

“You are so mean,” he mumbled, climbing into bed.

Laurie drew her son’s NFL sheet up around his shoulders. “By the way, a napkin with our Wisconsin and Chicago addresses fell out of your backpack. I put it on the kitchen table.”

Rory positioned his stuffed animals. “Didn’t write any addresses on a napkin.”

“You’re always giving out your number to new friends.”

Rory maneuvered his stuffed tiger beneath his head.

“Check out the writing if you don’t believe me. Are you gonna read to me now?”

Panic gripped her gut. Of course she’d recognize her own son’s handiwork. “Would you mind reading to yourself for a few minutes, honey?” Laurie asked, her voice tremulous. “I have an important call to make.”

“What’s so important that you can’t read to me first?” he whined.

“I need to ask Mitzy a quick question.”

“Can I watch TV in your room until you’re done?” he bargained.

“Fine.” Laurie started towards her room.

“Mom!”

Laurie sighed. “What now?” she called.

“Rocky peed all over my sheets!”

*

“You won’t believe what happened today!” Laurie put her cell phone on loudspeaker as she paced the downstairs hallway.

“My day at school was fine,” said Mitzy, “except for the bi-polar eighth grader who threw his chair at another student.”

“Very funny. School hasn’t even started yet.”

“Thanks for noticing.”

Laurie stooped to pick up a doggie toy. “I found a dead body on my front lawn.”

“Is Ryan driving you to drink or what?” her friend asked, giggling.

She tossed the toy into a wicker basket positioned atop the dog crate. “I’m not kidding, Mitzy. And turn your car radio down.”

“How’d you know I was in the car?”

“That’s the only place you play the new Dave Matthews CD I bought you.”

Her friend lowered the volume. “Okay, I’ll bite. Where’s the body now?”

Laurie swung open the pantry door and scooped a handful of M&M’s from a plastic container. “It got up and walked away.”

“Halloween’s still two months away, kiddo.”

“Will you shut up and listen?”

“My, my. Aren’t we testy tonight.”

“I’d been gardening for three hours straight and it was like ninety-eight degrees outside.”

“People die of heat stroke, you know,” said Mitzy.

Exactly what she’d told Rory, thought Laurie. “I gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but it’s no use.”

“You really are hard up, aren’t you?”

“You are so gross, Mitzy,” said Laurie. She poured herself a glass of low-fat skim milk to go along with the M&M’s. “I was feeling lightheaded, but I made it back to the house for my phone. Once inside, I passed out. Then this police officer shows up and tells me a young vagrant wearing a yellow jersey with the initials ‘TG’ was trespassing at Rory’s camp at noon.”

“Let me guess,” Mitzy said, her voice ghostly. “The dead kid on your front lawn was the same guy spotted at the camp site. You know, the newspaper mentioned it was a real scorcher up in Wisconsin today. You were probably hallucinating.”

“That’s what I thought when I discovered a nutshell and a dead squirrel where the body had been.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”

“A time like what?”

“When you’re freaking out.”

“I’m not alone. Ryan’s here.”

“Let me talk to him.”

“He’ll be back from Walmart any second now.”

“I get it. You guys saw a DVD about a missing body.”

“Knock it off, will ya? I was watering the lawn tonight when I spotted a folded paper napkin in a bush.”

“And this napkin was lying near the location of the missing body?”

“How’d you know?” Laurie asked incredulously.

“I’m not a former investigative reporter for nothing,” Mitzy said
wryly.

“Both my Wisconsin and Chicago addresses were printed on the napkin.”

“No mystery there, Sherlock. Your renter dropped it when she moved out.”

“Shakia’s been gone two months—a fact I’ve yet to share with Ryan. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep mum about it, too.”

“Now, now, Laurie. Threatening solves squat. Did Ryan believe
you?”

“Didn’t get a chance to tell him yet. I can’t believe you’d draw the shutters on a bizarre scenario like this.”

“I’m a special ed teacher now. My ‘Who Done It?’ days are over. Hey, I just pulled into my mom’s driveway. Get a good night’s sleep and we’ll chat tomorrow.”

Laurie clicked the telephone. She could phone her mother. And what? Get her all freaked out? Ask her to fly in from Phoenix? Better she handled this herself.

*

Laurie groaned as she glanced at the grandfather clock. Nine o’clock pm. How long did it take for Ryan to pick up ice cream and a couple of DVDs? She crumpled another page of recycled typing paper and tossed it across the dining room. Then she returned her attention to creating the perfect “FOR RENT” ad for her summer home. Attempting to secure a year-round renter was like trying to appease a capricious lover. Adjectives and verbs needed to tantalize, yet not elicit a one-night stand.

Wildly popular for its classified ads,
Craig’s List
was gaining momentum in the housing market as well. Thus, Laurie decided to place her advertisement solely on the same venue that had brought Shakia to her doorstep two years ago. She hoped to file away a signed rental agreement before the family returned to Chicago.

If she was already a licensed realtor, the listing would be safely ensconced on the multiple listing service website. For a fee of one month’s rent, a local realtor would deal with the showings. But like everybody else, Laurie wanted to save the commission.

As she tweaked the wording, Rocky dozed beneath the table. She tickled his white, fuzzy tummy with her toes. Here was one guy who slurped up any tidbit of love and attention he received. No protest over a missed play date or an unwelcome dinner entrée. Grateful joy warmed her soul.

Just then, her left foot touched something warm and wet. Laurie jumped up from the table. “Rocky!” she admonished. What was going on with this dog? Since the vagrant incident, he’d been peeing up a storm.

Laurie hopped into the powder room, Rocky wiggling alongside. Then she plopped her urine-soaked foot into the bathroom sink and treated her Achilles’ heel, arch, and toes to a mini bubble bath. Her frustration at Ryan’s absence began to dissipate. Tonight she’d share her concerns of the day. He’d tell her not to worry, a new camper requested their address. Not!

Upon completing her two-minute spa experience, Laurie deposited her pooch outside. Then she filed her unfinished rental ad in a green folder and pushed it to the far end of the dining room table. She fished around in her shorts pocket for the police officer’s business card. Her breath strained, she punched in the numbers. “Officer Gomez, please.”

*

Officer Carmen Gomez sat across the patio table from Laurie, examining the paper napkin. “Except for this napkin, there’s no evidence someone entered your yard.”

“You thought it was possible this afternoon!” protested Laurie. “The earth’s bone dry. It’s not like you’d see footprints or flattened grass where the guy’s been laying, right?”

The officer clipped her ballpoint pen onto the complaint notice. “Look, this part of our conversation never took place.”

“Sure.”

“When a person dies, he loses control of all bodily functions.”

“What does that have to do with…?” asked Laurie. “Wait. He did smell like poop.”

The police officer rose from her patio chair. “We’ll look into the matter and get back to you if we find out anything.”

“But how do you explain the folded napkin with my addresses printed on it?” Laurie asked again. “The garbage man doesn’t even come until….”

“Friday. I know, ma’am. Perhaps one of your neighbors was going away for a few days and put the trash out early.”

“And their trash blew a half an acre to my property. Even if that was the case, why would both of my addresses be printed on my neighbor’s napkin?”

“You’d know that answer better than I.”

“My nearest neighbor is the grandfather of the family who lives there. He’s watching the house while his family’s at Disney World. What would he want with my personal information?”