The Cinderella Murder

27

After a ritualistic postdinner game of Clue and a nighttime snack of peanut butter on apple slices, Laurie tucked Timmy into bed to the sounds of running water and clanking dishes from the kitchen.

She found her father loading the dishwasher.

“Dad, you don’t need to do that. You already do so much for Timmy when I’m at work.”

“Used to be that cleaning up after dinner was an hour-long chore. I think I can handle throwing away takeout containers and tossing a few plates into a machine. I know how hard you’ve been working.”

She took a sponge from the sink and began to wipe down the granite counters. “Unfortunately, I’m not even done for the day.”

“It’s nine o’clock, Laurie. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I’m fine, Dad. Just one more phone call.” Producing the show in California was going to be a bear, but at least the time zone differences made it easier for her to contact the West Coast long after normal people would have stopped working. “Jerry is scheduling interviews with the other participants, but I owe it to Susan’s mother to contact her personally.”

Rosemary Dempsey picked up after two rings. “Ms. Moran?”

“Hi again. And, please, call me Laurie. I was calling to confirm some dates. We’d like to come next week for some one-on-one time with you. And then the following week, we’d like to have each person do a sit-down with Alex Buckley. That will be down in Southern California. Is that going to be possible for you?”

“Um, sure. Whatever you need.”

Rosemary’s voice sounded different-soft and hesitant. “Is everything all right?” Laurie asked. “If you’re having second thoughts-”

“No, not at all. It’s just…”

Laurie thought she heard a sniffle on the other end of the line. “I think I’ve caught you at a bad time. It can wait until tomorrow.”

Rosemary cleared her throat. “Now is fine. I could use the distraction. Something awful has happened here. One of my neighbors was found murdered. Police think she was beaten to death.”

Laurie didn’t know what to say. “Oh, Rosemary. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” She realized the words were as unhelpful as any that were spoken to her when people learned about Greg’s death.

“Her name was Lydia. She was very nice. She was-well, she was my friend. And they found her in my backyard.”

“In your yard?”

“Yes. I don’t know why she would have been there. They think it’s possible she interrupted someone trying to break in.”

“That’s absolutely terrifying. This just happened today?”

“A few hours ago,” Rosemary confirmed. “Police only just now let me back in my house, but my yard is still off-limits.”

“So it was in broad daylight?” Just like Greg, she couldn’t help thinking.

“The whole neighborhood is in shock. Things like this never happen here. So, honestly, getting out of the house for the show will be good for me.”

It did not take them long to mark off a full day to film in the Bay Area, and for Rosemary to clear the three days they had planned to gather everyone in Southern California. Laurie promised to be in touch about location details for the latter once Jerry had located a rental house for what they were calling the “summit session.”

“Again, I’m so sorry about your friend,” Laurie said once more before wishing her good night. When she hung up, her father was lingering in the doorway.

“Something bad happened?” he asked.

“I’d certainly say so. One of Rosemary’s friends, a neighbor, was killed in Rosemary’s backyard. Police think she may have interrupted a burglar.”

“Was Rosemary’s house broken into? Anything missing?”

“I don’t know,” Laurie said. “The police had just let her back in. It sounded like she was still processing it all.”

Her father was working his hands, thumbs against index fingers, the way he always did when something was bothering him. “Someone tries to break into her house and kills her neighbor, just as you’re looking into her daughter’s murder?”

“Dad, that’s a stretch. You know as well as anyone that good people get hurt for all kinds of absurd reasons that only a sociopath could understand. And the victim here wasn’t Rosemary Dempsey. It was a neighbor. This isn’t even the same neighborhood that Susan grew up in. There’s no connection.”

“I don’t like coincidences.”

“Please don’t worry about this, okay?”

She walked him to the front door as he pulled on his coat. He gave her a hug and kiss before leaving, but as she watched him walk to the elevator, she could still see him deep in thought, working those hands.