Jane shook her head. "You've seen my basement, Mel. No outside exit. Shelley, who were the other guys in the basement?”
Shelley reeled off a couple names, which Mel wrote down along with the rest of the movie-watching crowd. Jane marked off the book rep who'd been gossiping with Mel's mother, a single mother who brought along her new baby and wouldn't even let anyone else hold it, and a skier with a broken leg and crutches. They'd accounted for about three-quarters of the people on the block.
Mel ran his hand through his hair. "We'll have to confirm all of them, but at least I know who's at the bottom of the priority list. Now, what about the others? Whose house is this empty box?"
“Oh, that's our Julie Newton. The dim bulb who caused all this," Jane said.
“You know where Julie was during that hour?"
“Up in my bedroom calling security people," Jane said, embarrassed now by that loony idea.
“Your bedroom overlooks the Johnson' house, doesn't it?" Mel said.
“Yes, I could see the top of the ladder poking up— Mel, you don't suspect Julie, do you?"
“Jane, my job is to suspect everyone. Do you know she was there? Could she have seen Lance King climbing the ladder?"
“I–I guess so. And she told me she couldn't get any security people to come out. I have no way of knowing if she actually called anyone or not. But Julie's such a flake!"
“Flakes have been known to kill people," Mel said. "I want to check out your bedroom window.”
The three of them traipsed upstairs.
“Pretty good view in the daylight," Mel said, gazing toward the Johnson house. "And at night, with all the decorations lit up — there aren't any in the backyard, though. Is there a floodlight in back?”
Jane nodded. "My bedroom is lit up like a carnival at night from that window.”
There was a light tap on the door and Addie walked in. "Oh," she said with mock surprise — which she didn't do very well. "I didn't know Mel was here," she said.
“And so am I, Mrs. VanDyne," Shelley said, coming out of Jane's bathroom where she'd been checking out the view from another window. Her grin was wicked.
Jane almost laughed. Addie must have heard them come upstairs and was checking out just what Mel was doing in Jane's bedroom in the middle of the morning.
Mel, of course, didn't get it. "Oh, hi, Mom. I thought you were sleeping in.”
She laughed patronizingly. "You know I never sleep late. I'm so used to being up early to work.”
Was that a dig at me? Jane wondered. Or am I looking for digs?
Shelley, Mel, and Addie went back downstairs and Jane stayed behind to bang on the kids' bedroom doors, alerting them that it was time to get up. If she let them start sleeping late this early in the vacation, they'd be staying up all night and keeping her awake.
When she rejoined the others in the kitchen, Mel and Shelley were sitting across from each other at the table, not speaking. It was a vaguely ominous silence.
“Mel's asking about Bruce Pargeter," Shelley said.
“Oh," Jane said, remembering the horrifying story of the sinkhole that he'd told them. She quickly weighed her options. Bruce hadn't sworn them to secrecy, nor would she have kept a secret that might have unraveled a murder. On the other hand, Bruce had implied that his family's story wasn't something he wanted spread around and she didn't want to spill it in front of Addie. It simply wasn't any of her business. Or anybody else's unless it was relevant to Mel's investigation.
She took a deep breath and said, "Mel, Bruce told us something about an experience he had with Lance King. I'm sure he'll tell you if you ask him. But I don't think Shelley and I have any right to blab about it unless he refuses to talk to you.”
Addie, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, spoke up. "Jane, my son is a detective investigating a serious crime — the murder of a man who had been in your house only a few minutes before his death. You haven't any right to withhold information from him.”
Jane felt a violent flush crawling up her neck and heard Shelley's sharp intake of breath. But Mel saved them.
“Mom, Jane is being honorable. As she always is. Which is one of the many reasons I love her.”
Jane started to get teary. Addie, however, gasped and turned pale at the word "love." She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut, set her coffee cup down with exaggerated care, and marched out of the room and upstairs.
“She didn't know?" Shelley asked.
“I don't know how she couldn't," Mel said, confused by his mother's storm of emotion, repressed as it was.
Shelley mouthed, "Men!" and Jane smiled. Mel wasn't fretting about his mother. He'd gone back to their map of the block. "Who's here? Oh, the little girl. What's her name?”
“Pet. Patricia Dwyer," Jane said.
“Why weren't her parents here? Or did they leave earlier?"
“Her father's a widower. Does something with computers and was working under a deadline, I guess. He didn't bother to respond to my invitation. Just didn't show up."
“She wasn't going home to an empty house, was she?" Mel asked, alarmed.
“No, she said he was working at home. I don't know if he has an office outside his house or not. He's terribly careful of her. That's why she has to be walked home after dark with an adult watching. And she can't accept rides. He even does those braids she wears. He's going to have a rough time when her hormones and independence kick in. He must be a good dad, but he's not much of a neighbor."
“I think maybe he's just awfully shy," Shelley said. "Sometimes shy people seem arrogant and aloof when they're really not."
“Didn't Suzie say she knew something about him?" Jane asked. "You might ask her about him.”
Mel didn't seem too interested. He was studying his list. "I'm afraid of your friend Suzie," he said with a preoccupied half-smile. "Did you say she was in the basement with the men?"
“Naturally," Shelley said with a smile.
“And there's Ginger, of course, who isn't on the map," he mumbled as he fought to roll up the wrapping paper map. It had silly-looking Santas on other side. Jane wondered why she'd ever bought it. It's appropriate, in a way, she thought, but he's sure going to look ridiculous having it on his office desk.
“What about the rest of his television crew?" Jane asked. "They had to spend a lot of time taking orders from him. He couldn't have been a pleasant person to work with."
“Three of them, and they alibi each other. Having coffee and doughnuts at the convenience store. The clerk said their van, which is pretty noticeable, was sitting in the lot the whole time. And none was foolish enough to pretend to have liked Lance. That would have made me suspicious.”
Shelley was frowning. "I'm not so sure it has to be someone in the neighborhood. Nobody but Julie, Jane, and I knew she'd invited him. And he was promptly uninvited."
“Yes, but you know what a blabbermouth Julie is," Jane said. "She probably called all her friends on the block and carried on about her celebrity coup before she even dropped the bomb on me. And she's unlikely to have called them back to tell them I'd made her retract the invitation.”
Mel stood up and gathered his paperwork. "I'm off to see your Mr. Pargeter."
“Good," Jane said cheerfully. "I have another party to hostess today."
“I guess I should tell Mom good-bye," Mel said.
“Is your furnace fixed yet?" Jane asked, rather pointedly, she feared.
“I don't know. Why do you ask? Mom's not being a nuisance, is she?”
“Oh, no. Not at all," Jane said with a false smile.
When he'd gone, Shelley said thoughtfully, "I think the Bible's wrong."
“The Bible?"