“Hey, Shannon,” he said heartily, and grabbed me in a quick hug.
“Hi, Tommy.” I’d known him forever and still thought he was pretty cute, but that wasn’t the only reason why I hugged him. No, he was happily married to Whitney Reid, the very same woman who had made my life hell all through high school and continued to do so on the Festival Committee. It was for her sake that I always gave Tommy a nice big hug and a kiss on the cheek when I saw him. I knew it was immature, especially at a moment like this, but it amazed me to know that her spying girlfriends liked to report back to her whenever they caught me anywhere near Tommy. According to Whitney’s girlfriends, I showed clear warning signs that I was out to steal him back from her. That couldn’t be further from the truth, of course, but Whitney still didn’t seem to realize that.
I figured it was Whitney’s own guilty conscience that made her so distrustful. Since she herself had stolen Tommy from me back in high school, it figured that I must be lying in wait, biding my time for the chance to take my revenge. It was laughable really. I’d gotten over Tommy’s betrayal ages ago and we were good friends now, much to Whitney’s disgust.
When he saw Jane, Tommy’s ever-present grin dimmed slightly. “Aw, hey, Jane. I’m really sorry to hear about Jesse. What a total bummer. If there’s anything I can do, you let me know.”
“Thanks, Tommy,” Jane said, giving him a light hug.
Eric took my arm and pulled me aside, out of Jane’s earshot. He leaned over and spoke quietly. “Where did you find Mr. Hennessey’s body?”
“In the room off the kitchen at the back of the house. It’s where he watched TV.”
“Did you call his doctor?”
“Not yet. I called Jane first and then decided to call the police because of what else I found in the house.”
His eyes narrowed. “What else did you find?”
“It’s probably easier if I show you.”
He stared at me for a long moment before he nodded toward the front door. “Okay, let’s see what you’re talking about.”
He turned and caught Tommy’s gaze. “You mind waiting out here with Jane?”
Jane looked affronted. “I appreciate your wanting to protect me, Eric, but it’s not necessary. I’m coming inside with you.”
Eric glanced at me as if it was my decision.
“He’s her uncle,” I said, frowning at him. “She’ll have to see him sometime.”
“Hello?” Jane said. “I’m standing right here.”
I smiled ruefully. “Sorry.”
She turned to the police chief. “And frankly, Eric, while I’m glad to see you, I’m not sure why Shannon called you anyway. I’m perfectly capable of contacting Uncle Jesse’s doctor to have him write out a death certificate.”
She started for the door, but I stepped in front of her, holding up my hand when she began to protest.
“Two things,” I said.
“What?”
“First, I called the police because it’s a mess inside, so prepare yourself.”
She frowned. “Okay. What’s the second thing?”
“I’m here for you.”
Tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffled. “Damn it, Shannon. I know that.”
“Good.” I grabbed the door handle, pushed it open, and stepped inside. This time I ignored the chaos of the house and headed straight for the kitchen and the adjoining den, where I’d found Jesse’s body.
Behind me, I heard Jane’s murmurs of distress as she noted the disarray. Eric was, as always, stoic.
“Oh God,” Jane whispered as she approached her uncle. Kneeling on the floor next to him, she touched his cheek. “Oh, Uncle.”
Tommy, Eric, and I stood back by the door to give her some privacy. Eric glanced over his shoulder at the chaos in the kitchen and scowled. “Is this how it usually looks in here?”
“No,” I murmured. “That’s why I called you. The whole house has been torn apart.”
“Damn it,” he muttered.
“It could’ve been Jesse searching for something and getting carried away. But I don’t believe that. He’s always been a tidy guy.”
“Okay, let’s take a look.” Under his breath, he added, “Tom, stay with Jane.”
“You got it, boss.”
Jane didn’t notice we were leaving the room.
In the kitchen, I watched the chief walk around, studying the scene as he tried to avoid stepping on all the stuff that had been pulled out of the drawers and cupboards. After another minute he signaled that it was time to move on, so I accompanied him back to the foyer and told him to check out the bedrooms down the hall. I stayed where I was, not wanting to get depressed all over again.
After a bit of time, Eric returned, his expression sober. “You didn’t tell me someone punched a hole in the wall.”
“I didn’t see any holes.”
“There’s a big one behind the door in the back bedroom. It goes right through the layer of lath and plaster.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said, taken aback. “I can’t believe Jesse would do something like that.”