“Are you sure? What if he lost something? Maybe he was missing some important papers.”
“But why would he be looking under a floorboard or in the kitchen cabinets? I mean, there were spice jars and condiments on the floor. Jesse couldn’t have done that.”
“I agree.”
She blew out a breath. “And seeing all that mess is why you called the police. Duh. Sorry about what I said earlier. My mind has been muddled since you called me.”
“Understandable.”
She still looked dazed. “So if someone else was in there searching for something, that person could’ve snuck up on Jesse.”
“Right,” I said. “Although he wasn’t easily scared, he could’ve been caught by surprise so badly that it gave him a heart attack.”
“What if the person knocked him out first and then started searching?”
“It’s possible.” I thought about finding Jesse on the couch. “But it didn’t look like he’d been attacked. I mean, there was no blood or anything. It’s like you said. He looked peaceful, not traumatized.”
“I hope he didn’t suffer.”
Depressed by the thought, I shook my head. “We’re just grasping at straws. We need to wait and hear what the coroner says.”
Jane frowned and shook her head, unwilling to give up theorizing. “If someone was searching for something, what could it be?”
“I don’t know. Did he come into some money recently?”
“No, of course not.” She wrinkled her nose, puzzled. “You know him as well as I do. If he’d come into money, you’d probably hear about it before I did.”
“Maybe so, but only because I’m right next door. My house would’ve been the first stop on his way to telling every last person in town.”
“True,” she said, with a light chuckle. “He was private about a lot of things, but he sure liked to share the good news.”
I sat up abruptly. “Hey, that reminds me. Did Jesse have a girlfriend?”
Jane looked at me sideways. “Are you kidding? No.”
“That’s what I figured, but my dad and uncle both claim that Jesse had a girlfriend. A hottie, they said.”
She frowned. “That sounds like one of his tall tales.”
“I thought the same thing.”
“If he had a girlfriend, we all would’ve met her, right? Especially if she was a hottie.”
“Well, of course she would be a hottie,” I said, laughing. “Why would he make up a girlfriend and have her be ugly?”
Jane stared at the house across the street. “I wonder if Mrs. Higgins ever saw her.”
Mrs. Higgins was Jesse’s partner in crime when it came to sharing and passing along the latest gossip.
I winced at the thought of Mrs. Higgins. “I haven’t seen her this morning. I’d better go tell her what happened before she sees the police cars.”
“It’s too late for that,” Jane said, gazing at the three cop cars parked on the street. “She’s going to be upset. I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks. It’ll help if you’re there.” I took a long look at the sunny yellow house across the street. “I’m surprised she’s not out in her yard, demanding to know what’s going on.”
Jane frowned. “I hope she’s okay.”
“Let’s go find out.”
As we crossed the street, Jane locked arms with me. “I’m sorry you were all by yourself when you found him.”
“Yeah, me, too. It was bizarre and sad.”
“What made you go inside?”
I told her about meeting my dad and uncle for breakfast at the diner and how they’d missed seeing Jesse. “You know he’s usually there in the morning, reading the paper and drinking his one cup of coffee. So I figured I’d stop by to check up on him. I knocked a few times, but he didn’t come to the door. I thought he might be sick or something.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t just walk away. The thought of him lying there alone for a few more days . . .” She shuddered.
“I considered that, too. But it looks like we found him within a few hours of his death—although I’m no expert, obviously. I thought he was sound asleep. I even put a blanket over him.”
“Aw,” she said, squeezing my arm. “Thank you for doing that.”
I glanced at her. “You should thank me. Otherwise you would’ve caught him in his white boxer shorts and nothing else.”
She choked on a laugh. “Oh God. I’ve been buying him a three-pack of white boxers and white socks for Christmas for as long as I can remember.”
“It’s what he liked.”
She sighed. “Yes.”
I knocked on the door of the yellow house and waited. When the door swung open, I could tell that Mrs. Higgins actually did have a cold.
“What is it? What happened? What’s wrong?” she asked in rapid order, her voice sounding nasally.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Higgins. Are you sick?”
“I’ve got a touch of something,” she said, tugging her housecoat more snugly around her. “I spent the entire morning sleeping. I never do that.”