“Thank you,” Kelly said. “Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?”
“Am I going to be on TV?” Mrs. English asked.
“It’s a possibility,” Kelly said. “We’re researching a story.”
“Ask away,” Mrs. English said.
“We’re curious about your neighbor across the street,” Kelly said. “Tracy Reggis.”
“There’s something strange going on there,” Mrs. English said. “That’s for sure.”
“Oh?” Kelly questioned. “Tell us about it.”
“It started yesterday morning,” Mrs. English said. “Tracy came over and asked me to watch her house. Now, I watch it anyway, but she was very specific. She wanted me to tell her if any strangers came by. Well, one did.”
“Someone you’ve never seen before?” Kelly asked.
“Never,” Mrs. English said unequivocally.
“What did he do?” Kelly asked.
“He went inside.”
“When Tracy wasn’t here?”
“That’s right.”
“How did he get in?”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. English said. “I think he had a key because he opened the front door.”
“Was he a big man with dark hair?”
“No, he was average-height with blond hair,” Mrs. English said. “Very well dressed. Like a banker or lawyer.”
“And then what happened?” Kelly asked.
“Nothing. The man never left and when it got dark, he didn’t even turn on a light. Tracy didn’t come back until late with another blond man. This man was bigger and had on a white coat.”
“You mean like a doctor?” Kelly asked. She winked at Brian.
“Or a butcher,” Mrs. English said. “Anyway, Tracy didn’t come to talk with me like she said she would. She just went into the house with the second man.”
“And then what happened?”
“They were all inside for a while. Then the first man came out and drove away. A little while later, Tracy and the other man came out with suitcases.”
“Suitcases like they were going on a trip?”
“Yes. But it was a strange time to go on a trip. It was nearly midnight. I know because it was the latest I’ve stayed up for as long as I can remember.”
“Thank you, Mrs. English,” Kelly said. “You’ve been most helpful.” Kelly motioned for Brian to leave.
“Am I going to be on TV?” Mrs. English asked.
“We’ll let you know,” Kelly said. She waved and walked back to her car. She climbed in. Brian got into the passenger seat.
“This story keeps getting better,” Kelly said. “I wouldn’t have guessed in all the world, but Tracy Reggis has apparently decided to go on the lam with her fugitive former husband. And to think she seemed like such a sensible person. I’m blown away!”
By three o’clock the chaos of the lunchtime rush finally faded in the Onion Ring restaurant on Prairie Highway, and the exhausted day shift gathered up their things and left: everyone except for Roger Polo, the manager. As conscientious as he was, he couldn’t leave until he was sure there was a smooth transition to the evening shift. Only then would he turn things over to Paul, the cook, who acted as the supervisor in Roger’s absence.
Roger was busy installing a new tape in one of the cash registers when Paul arrived at his station behind the grill and began arranging the utensils the way he liked them.
“Much traffic today?” Roger asked while snapping the register’s cowling shut.
“Not bad,” Paul said. “Was it a busy day here?”
“Very busy,” Roger said. “There must have been twenty people waiting to get in when I opened the doors. and it never let up.”
“Did you see the morning’s paper?” Paul asked.
“I wish,” Roger said. “I didn’t even have a chance to sit down to eat.”
“You better read it,” Paul said. “That crazy doctor that came in here Friday murdered a guy out at Higgins and Hancock last night.”
“No kidding!” Roger blurted. He was genuinely dumbstruck.
“Some poor Mexican guy with six kids,” Paul said. “Shot him through the eye. Can you imagine?”
There was no way Roger could imagine. He leaned on the countertop. His legs felt wobbly. He’d been mad about being struck in the face; now he felt lucky. He shuddered to think of what might have happened had the doctor brought a gun when he’d come to the Onion Ring.