“What do you expect when I’m way the hell near Williamsburg? You think I’m a state trooper?”
“No, but if you want to talk to one, I can probably figure that out.”
” I’m sure you could tune in to the damn space shuttle,” he irritably remarked.
“If you can,” I said to her, “how about getting me on it.”
Chapter Six
We arrived in Richmond at half past two, and the guard raised a gate and allowed us into the secluded neighborhood where I very recently had moved.
Typical for this area of Virginia, there had been no snow, and water dripped profusely from trees because rain had turned to ice during the night. Then the temperature had risen.
My stone house was set back from the street on a bluff that overlooked a rocky bend in the James River, the wooded lot surrounded by a wrought-iron fence neighboring children could not squeeze through. I knew no one on any side of me, and had no intention of changing that.
I had not anticipated problems when I had decided for the first time in my life that I would build, but whether it had been the slate roof, the brick pavers or the color of my front door, it seemed everyone had a criticism. When it had gotten to the point where my contractor’s frustrated telephone calls were interrupting me in the morgue, I had threatened the neighborhood association that I would sue.
Needless to say, invitations to parties in this subdivision, thus far, had been few.
“I’m sure your neighbors will be delighted to see you’re home,” my niece dryly said as we got out of the car.
“I don’t think they pay that much attention to me anymore.” I dug for my keys.
“Bullshit,” Marino said. “You’re the only one they got who spends her days at murder scenes and cutting up dead bodies. They probably look out their windows the entire time you’re home. Hell, the guards probably call every one of them to let ’em know when you roll in.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, unlocking the front door.
And just when I was beginning to feel a little better about living here.”
The burglar alarm loudly buzzed its warning that I had better quickly press the appropriate keys, and I looked around as I always did, because my home was still a stranger to me. I feared the roof would leak, plaster would fall or something else would fail, and when everything was fine, I took intense pleasure in my accomplishment. My house was two levels and very open, with windows placed to catch every photon of light. The living room was a wall of glass that captured miles of the James, and late in the day I could watch the sun set over trees on the river’s banks.
Adjoining my bedroom was an office that finally was big enough for me to work in, and I checked it first for faxes and found I had four.
“Anything important?” asked Lucy, who had followed me while Marino was getting boxes and bags.
“As a matter of fact, they’re all for you from your mother.” I handed them to her.
She frowned. “Why would she fax me here?”
“I never told her I was temporarily relocating to Sandbridge. Did you?”
“No. But Grans would know where you are, right?” Lucy said.
“Of course. But my mother and yours don’t always get things straight.” I glanced at what she was reading. “Everything okay?”
“She’s so weird. You know, I installed a modem and CD ROM in her computer and showed her how to use them. My mistake. Now she’s always got questions. Each of these faxes is a computer question.” She irritably shuffled through the pages.
I was put out with her mother, Dorothy, too. She was my sister, my only sibling, and she could not be bothered to so much as wish her only child a happy New Year.
“She sent these today,” my niece went on. “It’s a holiday and she’s writing away on another one of her goofy children’s books.”
“To be fair,” I said, “her books aren’t goofy.”
“Yeah, go figure. I don’t know where she did her research, but it wasn’t where I grew up.”