“It’s nothing, dear. I haven’t been sleeping well. One of the many indignities of old age, you’ll discover.”
It was an unlikely explanation, but I didn’t argue. I took her through the same conversation I’d had with the others. Her answers were unilluminating. She had no idea who the stranger who’d died in the walk-in might be.
I heard the whoosh of air brakes, and through the front window I caught sight of a yellow school bus. The sound of children’s chatter filled the air outside.
“Quinn’s children,” Fran said, pointing to a boy and a girl who’d split off from the rest of the group. “I’d rather not discuss this when they get to the house.” There were footsteps on the porch, and then the children tumbled inside. They were healthy-looking blondes like their mother. At their grandmother’s command, they each shook my hand and asked me politely how I was. The boy’s voice broke, moving from high-pitched to honk in a single sentence. “Fruit and milk in the kitchen,” Fran said. They didn’t have to be told twice.
I thanked her and put my hand out for the photocopy. I glanced at it as I tucked it into the bag. Something about it was bugging me, but I couldn’t figure out what. Then I realized that if the kids were home from school, I was overdue at Gus’s. I ran down the porch steps to my car.
Chapter 19
As I drove back downtown, I thought about what I’d learned. Deborah had lived through two traumatic events, the loss of Dan Johnson in Vietnam and the destruction of her face in a car accident. I had to agree with her assertion that she wasn’t a fragile flower. She seemed like a strong woman who knew who she was, and who’d overcome her challenges to build a fulfilling life.
Deborah had had a catastrophic automobile accident, and Caroline had said Madeleine and Howell Lowe died in an accident. It seemed like more than a fair share of tragedy to be visited on a small group of friends. I wondered if the accidents were connected, or even one event. Had Deborah been driving the car when the Lowes died?
I left the Caprice in my mother’s garage and walked toward the restaurant. Chris was probably already doing prep work for this evening. As I came over the rise just before Gus’s parking lot, my heart skipped a beat. The medical examiner’s van was back in Gus’s parking lot, along with a fire truck and an ambulance.
What is this about?
I ran the rest of the way down the hill. When I got closer, it was obvious the activity wasn’t inside the restaurant but in the water. I waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot, while Jamie conferred with the medical examiner, heads close together.
The harbormaster and three firemen brought up something on a stretcher from the rocky wall of the harbor. It was already encased in a plastic bag, but I could tell from its size and shape it was a body. I guessed that Jamie had found his missing driver. The body bag was loaded into the ME’s van. She said something to Jamie, and then she and a driver got in the van and pulled out of the parking lot.
Jamie spotted me and came over.
“Your accident victim, I assume.”
“Looks like it. She must have been disoriented after the accident. Taken a header into the water.”
“We’re a ways from the corner of Main and Main.”
“The amount of time she’s been in the water, she could have floated from anywhere. People smarter than me will figure out the currents and the tides and where she likely went in.”
“Did you find out who she was?”
“No pocketbook or anything, though it could be in the harbor too. And her coat is somewhere. Ben Kramer described it as green on the night he saw her leave the accident, but it’s come off her. Now that we know where she was, we’ll bring in divers.” He pulled out his phone. “Meanwhile, I’ve sent a general description to the Connecticut State Police and to the Hoopers, the couple in Costa Rica, to maybe jog their memories about someone like her who would have access to their car.”
“Who spotted the body?”
“Kids, walking home from the school bus. It was an early release day at Busman’s Elementary. The tide was low and she’d fetched up on the rocks.”
I shivered. “How old were these kids?”
“Pair of boys, age ten,” Jamie answered, mouth set.
“Not something you and I ever saw walking home.”
He relaxed. “We would have thought it was a grand adventure.”
“We would not have.” I looked at my old friend. We had so much shared history. Walking to and from the school bus every day, the summers he spent working with my family at the clambake, the holidays he’d spent at our house. Aside from Chris and Livvie, he was the easiest person for me to talk to in town. If he was looking for a soul mate in Busman’s Harbor, he was fishing in a small pond. I couldn’t be that person, but I wished him only the best.