The Marsh Madness

I said, “Yes, make yourselves at home. I think I’ll head downstairs for a snack if I’m not needed.” I was pretty sure they’d never turn up the burner phone or the memory stick, but even with that confidence I was glad that my lock picks were safely stowed far from Van Alst House.

“Evidence of something in the trees by the edge of the property, ma’am,” the second officer said with barely concealed excitement. He’d have to learn to keep his thoughts to himself if he wanted to rise in the force. Castellano kept her own thoughts hidden, although she did nod. Tyler Dekker’s blush was beginning to subside. Of course his career trajectory meant nothing to me, but if all it took was an underwear drawer to get that flush, he’d be a patrol officer for the rest of his life.

Castellano nodded and everyone trooped downstairs and the police delegation trooped outside. The signora was spinning with distress. Vera had rolled off in a temper.

I picked up my iPhone and called Sammy. At the same time I asked the signora for a snack. I did everything to keep my thoughts off the search and not to imagine what they might find. Maybe a snack would reduce stress. Of course, the possibility of forgotten evidence of illegal liquor production was at the front of my mind. I’d been clear that Cherie and Kev needed to clear up the still, but I’d never asked Uncle Kev if he had any more stills around the property. In retrospect, that was an oversight.

I was distracted by the signora. She stopped the panicky little dance and headed for the kitchen to create some magic with food. Yes, it had only been about half an hour since I had last eaten, and dinner would be at eight, but coffee and cookies seemed like a good idea. If we weren’t off the hook soon, I’d need a whole wardrobe in a new size. Still, I planned to enjoy my snack and read a bit to take my mind off what I couldn’t fix.

Stoddard came to get me soon enough. He slouched through the door, and I followed him outside to an area off the pea gravel drive. It had been cordoned off with police tape. Stoddard lifted the fluttering yellow-and-black tape.

“Festive,” I said.

Police with gloves were milling around. Stoddard stood back, looking bored, his hands in his pockets. Smiley hung around the fringe, not smiling even a bit. I was getting used to him not making eye contact with me. It would become a way of life. A police photographer had recorded the scene. I figured even Kev wouldn’t have set up a still so close to the driveway, so what were they looking so smug about?

Castellano looked down her nose at me. I noticed she had a bit of mud on the beautiful cognac-colored knee-high boots, so that wasn’t helping her disposition any. Of course, I hadn’t asked her to tromp over the soggy post-winter lawn.

“Recognize anything?” she said, pointing to some objects on the ground, behind a decorative dwarf pine.

“Should I?”

“You tell me.”

I leaned forward and squinted. What was this? Monogrammed silverware?

I glanced at her. “It looks like someone’s sterling silver.”

“That’s right. Guess who has silverware exactly like this?”

“They had it at Summerlea.”

“And this stuff has prints all over it.” She pointed to a tech heading away from the site. “We’ll wait for results, but I imagine we’ll find yours and Kevin Kelly’s.”

“You can’t seriously believe that we would steal traceable items from Summerlea and then leave them lying around in plain sight for two days.”

“And yet, here they are.”

“That doesn’t strike you as strange? Or stupid?”

“If the shoe fits.” She smirked.

“That shoe doesn’t fit. If we wanted to hide stolen merchandise, we could have done a lot better than that, especially as you made such a big deal about returning with a warrant.”

“Have you ever heard of the Darwin Awards?”