I nodded. “What else do you have?”
“The rest of Hattie’s computer was pretty clean. A lot of temporary internet files and cookies for New York websites. It looked like she was browsing for places to live, even made a few inquiries by email. No confirmations, though. I didn’t get the feeling she was ready to hightail it, just getting the lay of the land.”
Jake glanced around to make sure no one was nearby before continuing. “No other communication with LitGeek, as far as I can see.”
“And her phone records?”
“Nothing. Tons of texts, all to friends, and a few every week with Tommy.”
“Anything off about the ones with Tommy?”
“Not much to ’em. Just stuff like ‘See you at 7:00’ and ‘Running late.’ They mostly sent funny pictures. LOLCat and things like that.”
Jake caught my look and tried to clarify. “Uh, internet pictures. With cats. That want cheeseburgers.”
“Uh-huh.” I finished signing the warrants and handed them back. “I need you to send the entire case file, pictures included, to the FBI.”
“What?” Jake couldn’t keep the volume down on his surprise. “Are we turning it over?”
“No, we’re getting some help.”
I gave him the information for Fran’s contact, a forensic psychologist who evaluated crime scenes. Normally I wouldn’t have much use for a psychological anything, but Fran said he was “peerless” in the state, and I wasn’t going to turn my nose up at anyone who might be able to point his peerless finger at our killer.
“I want a call with him today, tomorrow at the latest. And tomorrow we’re bringing both suspects in again—right after Hattie’s funeral—to go over their Friday nights in detail. Let’s see if any stories start changing after they’ve spent all day with her casket.”
Jake got to work and I left the business and noise of the station behind and opened the door to my office. Winifred turned as I came in, but Mona didn’t even lift her head. She looked like she was made of stone, with her feet together and hands folded over the big, faded purse in her lap. Her eyes saw nothing; everything about her was turned inward, locked inside.
I’d known Mona nearly as long as Bud, saw her pregnant with both Greg and Hattie. Other than the size of her belly, you’d never have thought she was expecting. Whenever the baby gave her a good kick from the inside, she’d said, You just come out here and try that, and rubbed the spot before carrying on with whatever she was doing. Now she worked part-time for the only lawyer in town, doing his typing and filing, while still helping Bud in the fields, taking care of the house, and putting food on the table to boot. She made a mean potpie, with whole mushrooms and big hunks of chicken in a white wine sauce and always served it sizzling right out of the oven. If you complimented her on it, she’d just shrug and say it was nothing fancy.
To tell the truth, Mona and I were probably more alike than me and Bud. Neither of us had much time for small talk. So I knew she was here today for a reason.
“Mona.”
I sat down on the other side of the desk. Winifred stood behind her with her hand on Mona’s shoulder, giving the kind of silent comfort a friend should, but me, I had to put that desk between us. I had to look at her as next of kin, not as a woman I’d known for almost half her life.
“It never crossed my mind.”
She didn’t seem to be speaking to either of us. Winifred and I glanced at each other and waited for her to continue.
“In all the months since Greg’s been gone, I never once thought I could lose Hattie. It’s been Greg, Greg, Greg. Greg stepping on a land mine in my head in the middle of the night. Greg’s unit getting attacked. Greg’s face still and pale in a coffin. Greg’s been my nightmare and I thought I could trade them off. Greg’s tour is up in July, and Hattie had it in her head she was going to New York. I’d get one back and start worrying about the other. That seemed . . . fair.”
Her gaze finally focused and she looked at me now, all the anguish in the world swimming in her eyes.
“I never thought I could lose her when she was so close to me. Not here at home, in Pine Valley.” Winifred held tight to Mona’s shoulder with her bony fingers like she was keeping Mona upright, and shot me a look like women do when they want you to do something or they think you’re making a mess of it.
“Mona, what are you doing here? This is the last place you need to be right now.”
“There’s something you need to know. About Hattie.”
She reached up and patted Winifred’s hand. “Wait for me in the lobby, will you?”
“You sure, honey?”
“I’ll be along in a minute.”