Mrs Harvey had to think.
‘Just her girlfriends,’ she replied. ‘She has a couple people she works with, and sometimes they dropped by or went off somewhere together. But I don’t remember any activity that night. I mean, that’s not saying I would know. Someone could have come over, and I wouldn’t necessarily have heard a thing.’
‘Have we found her cat?’ I asked.
McGovern did not answer.
‘That darn cat,’ Mrs Harvey said. ‘Pumpkin. Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled.’
She smiled and her eyes filled with tears.
‘That was her child,’ Harvey said.
‘An indoor cat?’ I then asked.
‘Oh, absolutely. Kellie never let that cat out of the house, treated him like a hothouse tomato.’
‘His litter box was found in the backyard,’ McGovern told her. ‘Did Kellie sometimes empty it and leave it out all night? Or for that matter, did she have a habit of emptying it at night? Going out after dark, the door unlocked and the alarm off.’
Harvey looked confused, and I suspected she had no idea that her neighbor had been murdered.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I do know that I’ve seen her empty the litter before, but always in a trash bag that went into the super can. So it wouldn’t make sense for her to do that at night. My guess is, she might have emptied it and left it outside to air, you know? Or maybe she just didn’t have time to hose it off and was going to do it the next morning. But whatever the case, that cat knew how to use the toilet. So it wouldn’t be any big deal for him to be without his litter box for a night.’
She stared off at a state police car cruising by.
‘No one’s said how the fire started,’ Harvey went on. ‘Do we know?’
‘We’re working on it,’ McGovern said.
‘She didn’t die . . . well, it was quick, wasn’t it?’
She squinted in the setting sun, and she bit her lower lip.
‘I just don’t want to think she suffered,’ she said.
‘Most people who die in fires don’t suffer,’ I answered, evading her question with gentle words. ‘Usually carbon monoxide overcomes them and they aren’t conscious.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ she said.
‘I’ll be inside,’ McGovern said to me.
‘Mrs Harvey,’ I said, ‘did you know Kellie very well?’
‘We’ve been neighbors for almost five years. Not that we did a whole lot together, but I certainly knew her.’
‘I’m wondering if you might have any recent photographs of her, or know someone who might?’
‘I might have something.’
‘I have to make sure of the identification,’ I then said, although my motive was other than that.
I wanted to see for myself what Shephard had looked like in life.
‘And if there’s anything else you can tell me about her, I would appreciate it,’ I went on. ‘For example, does she have family here?’
‘Oh no,’ Harvey said, staring at her neighbor’s ruined house. ‘She was from all over. Her father was military, you know, and I think he and her mom live somewhere in North Carolina. Kellie was very worldly from having moved around so much. I used to tell her I wished I could be as strong and smart as her. She didn’t take crap off anyone, let me tell you. One time there was a snake on my deck, and I called her, all hysterical. She came on and chased it in the yard and killed it with a shovel. I guess she had to get that way because the men just wouldn’t leave her alone. I always told her she could be a movie star, and she would say, But Sandra, I can’t act. And I would say, But neither can most of them!’
‘She was pretty streetwise, then,’ I said.
‘You bet. That’s why she had that burglar alarm put in. Feisty and streetwise, that’s Kellie. If you want to come in with me, I’ll see what I can do about pictures.’
‘If you don’t mind,’ I said. ‘That’s very nice of you.’
We cut through a hedge and I followed her up steps into her big, bright kitchen. It was apparent that Harvey liked to cook, based on a well-stocked pantry and every conceivable appliance. Cookware hung from hooks in the ceiling, and whatever was simmering on the stove smelled rich with beef and onions, perhaps a stroganoff or stew.