“I’m sure she wasn’t the first FBI agent who decided to quit.”
“True. But many former agents leave the Bureau and join local law enforcement agencies. Private security, that sort of thing. Any idea what she was doing for a living?”
“No idea.” He shook his head. “Maybe someone in town will know, maybe one of the neighbors.”
The sound of car doors slamming drew their attention to the driveway, where several sheriff’s vehicles and a beat-up black sedan had parked, their occupants filing up the walkway to the house.
“Looks like the gang’s all here,” Brody observed. “Let me get you those gloves, Dr. McCall, so we can put you to work along with everyone else. I could see you’re interested in the contents of that purse there. Let’s see what’s what…”
The first thing Annie did was start to check the numbers of the last calls that had been made to Melissa’s cell phone, but one of the sheriff’s deputies made a point of looking for that item, so she had to hand it over. While doing so, she tucked the address book under her leg as she knelt on the floor next to the spilled purse. When the deputy walked outside to start calling back the numbers, she took the small red book and stepped around the M.E. to walk into the kitchen. There she opened the back door and sat on the top porch step to skim through the pages.
For some reason, Melissa seemed to prefer listing some of her contacts not by name but by initials. Annie went page by page, studying the entries, but none were recognizable. Until she came to the Ss.
G.S.-followed by a number Annie did not recognize.
Grady Shields?
She tapped the book against the palm of one hand. Could be an old phone book. Could be a number Melissa hadn’t called in a long time. Annie took her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the number she had for Grady. It wasn’t the same as the one in Melissa’s book. Annie dialed the number and listened to it ring.
“Hello?” A familiar male voice answered.
“Grady?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“It’s Annie.”
He hesitated, then asked, “How did you get this number?”
“I found it in Melissa Lowery’s phone book.”
“What are you doing with Melissa’s phone book?”
“Looking for someone who might have had a reason to kill her.”
The silence that followed was so long and so complete, Annie thought Grady had hung up.
“Melissa…?” he whispered, his voice little more than a rasp.
“She’s dead, Grady.”
“But…” Another silence, then finally, a click.
“Grady?” Annie asked, though she knew he was no longer on the line. She disconnected the call and slid the phone back into her jacket pocket.
“You find anything interesting in that book?” Sheriff Brody asked from the top of the steps.
“Not really,” she said, handing it to him.
“Well, we got two of the neighbors out front, just drove by and saw all the cars, so they stopped in. I’m just about to go on out and talk to them, thought you might want to come out with me.”
“I would. Thank you.”
Brody came down the steps and walked toward the corner of the house.
“Too much going on in there,” he told her. “I want to stay out of everyone’s way as much as I can.”
“So we figure she’s been dead approximately two weeks.” Annie fell into step beside him.
“Yeah, that’s what we figured.” He nodded.
“And no one missed her in all that time?”
“From what I gathered, from the folks out front, she didn’t work. Went into town for food and supplies every two weeks or so. Stopped at the library to pick up a couple of books while she was there, maybe had lunch at Sullivan’s. Other than that, it seems like she kept to herself.”
“Well, let’s see if the neighbors remember if she’s had any company lately…”
The neighbors did.
In particular, Mrs. Owens, a widow in her midseventies who lived half a mile up on the other side of the road, distinctly recalled having seen a tall, good-looking dark-haired man with the deceased on several occasions.
“Recently?” Annie asked.
“Last time, maybe a month ago. Maybe a little less.”
“Within the last two weeks?”
“Not him, but there was a car parked here week before last.”
“How do you know it wasn’t him?”
“He always came at the end of the week, stayed till Sunday or sometimes Monday morning. This was in the middle of the week, and the car was only here for the one day.”
“Do you remember what day of the week it was?”
“It was a Tuesday.”
“Are you sure, Mrs. Owens?” Brody spoke up for the first time since Annie had engaged the woman in conversation.
“I’m positive. I was on my way into town to the dentist. Dr. Jacobs. He’s only in West Priest on Tuesday’s. Rest of the week, he’s in Priest or over in Tall Trees.”
“This tall, dark-haired man…” Annie began.
“Good-looking. Don’t leave out the good-looking part.”
“How often did you see him? Twice a month? Once? Every two months…?”
“Maybe once a month, sometimes twice, close as I remember.”
“Do you think you’d recognize him if you saw him again?”
“Oh yes. He really was a looker.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Owens. If you remember anything else, you just give me a call, hear?”
“Will do.” Mrs. Owens nodded but made no effort to leave. “What do you suppose happened to her? You got any suspects?”
“Now, now, don’t go talking about suspects. We don’t even know what she died from. Could be natural causes. Let’s not go jumping to conclusions, Mrs. Owens. That’s how rumors get started.”
“Well, you know I’m not one to gossip,” she said to the sheriff and to Annie.
“That’s good, then. We don’t need any speculation going around town until we know for certain what happened here. And we might not know that for a few more days. Gotta give the medical examiner some time to do his thing.”
Mrs. Owens nodded her understanding and turned to leave.
“You don’t suppose someone killed her deliberately, do you, Sheriff?”
“Mrs. Owens, I thought we just agreed we would not be speculating,” Brody said sternly.