Once his professor arrived some hours later, David presented Mary Ann as if he were back in his training program. The professor listened intently, examined Mary Ann with great care, then went over the chart in detail. But even he had no new insights. David saw him out to his car, thanking him profusely for having made the trip.
With nothing else to do at the hospital, David headed home. He avoided Saturday morning basketball since he was still smarting from the unpleasant confrontation with Kevin Yansen over their tennis match. In his precarious emotional state, David felt that he’d do well to avoid Kevin’s unpleasant competitiveness for another week.
When he got home, Angela and Nikki were just finishing breakfast. David teased them that they’d missed half the day. While Angela tended to Nikki’s respiratory treatment, David went down into the basement and removed the crime scene tape. Then he took some of the storm windows out to the yard via the steps leading outdoors.
He’d put the first-floor windows up by the time Nikki joined him.
“When are we going to . . .” Nikki began to ask.
David put his finger to his lips to shush Nikki while he pointed to the nearby kitchen window where Angela could be seen. “As soon as we clean up,” he said.
David let Nikki help him carry each of the screens down into the basement. He could have done it more easily himself, but she liked to think she was helping. They leaned them up against the base of the stairs where the storm windows had originally been.
With that accomplished, David and Nikki announced to Angela that they were heading into town on a shopping mission. Then they rode off on their bikes. Angela enjoyed seeing them having so much fun, though she did feel excluded.
Left alone, Angela began to feel a little edgy. She noticed every creak the empty house made She tried to immerse herself in the book she was reading, but before long she was up locking the doors and even the windows. Ending up in the kitchen, Angela could not suppress her imagination from coating the walls with blood.
“I can’t live like this,” Angela said aloud, realizing how paranoid she was becoming. “But what am I going to do?”
She stepped over to the kitchen table, the legs of which she had scrubbed with the strongest disinfectant Mr. Staley had in his hardware store. Her fingers brushed its surface. She wondered if luminol would still fluoresce now that she had cleaned it so thoroughly. She still didn’t like the idea that Hodges’ killer was free. Yet she took to heart David’s warning that it was dangerous for her to be snooping around about the murder.
Walking over to the phone directory, she looked up “private investigators” but didn’t find any entries. Then she looked up “detectives” and found a list. Most were security businesses, but there were several individuals listed as well. One–a Phil Calhoun–was in Rutland, which was only a short drive away.
Before she had time to reconsider, Angela dialed the number. A man with a husky, slow, and deliberate voice answered.
Angela hadn’t given much thought to what she would say. She finally stammered that she wanted to investigate a murder.
“Sounds interesting,” Calhoun said.
Angela tried to picture the man on the other end of the wire. Judging from the voice she imagined a powerfully built man with broad shoulders, dark hair, maybe even a mustache.
“Perhaps we could meet,” Angela suggested.
“You want me to come there or do you want to come here?” Calhoun asked.
Angela thought for a moment. She didn’t want David finding put what she was up to–not just yet.
“I’ll come to you,” she said.
“I’ll be waiting,” Calhoun said after he gave her directions.
Angela ran upstairs, changed clothes, then left a note saying “Gone shopping” for David and Nikki.
Calhoun’s office was also his home. She had no trouble finding it. In the driveway she noticed his Ford pickup truck had a rifle rack in the back of the cab and a sticker on the back bumper that read: “This Vehicle Climbed Mount Washington.”