“Everyone’s being contacted,” said Milo. Artful dodge. “We actually wanted to speak to the newlyweds because she’s closer in age to them but apparently they’ve decided to take an early honeymoon.”
“Yes, they have.” Sandy Burdette squinted. “I’m confused. Hasn’t this already been covered? When you spoke to all of us and no one knew her?”
“We always follow up, Mrs. Burdette. Things can slip people’s minds. May we come in?”
“I suppose so — sorry, you’ve driven all the way, sure. I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee.”
The house was open and spacious, with honey-colored, tongue-and-groove pine walls and a peaked open-beam ceiling of the same wood. Meticulous maintenance, everything aligned at precise angles. Despite the dog battalion, now out of sight, and three cats that seemed to materialize out of nowhere before padding off, not a trace of animal odor.
My eyes traveled to the rear beyond a knotty-pine kitchen, where glass sliders offered a view of a second pen enclosed on all sides with chicken wire.
An enormous tortoise had all that space to itself.
I said, “Glenn.”
Sandra Burdette said, “You remember.” Genuinely pleased.
I said, “We saw the goats and the sheep coming in. Where’s the blind heifer?”
The smile vanished. “Unfortunately Candace left us four days ago, a sudden internal bleed. She was never a healthy girl — not just the eyes, her limbs weren’t as strong as they should’ve been. Will feels terrible. There was nothing he could do but he hates losing anyone.”
She motioned us toward the center of the living room.
Given the setting and Sandra Burdette’s clothing, you’d be forgiven expecting a western motif, but the Burdettes had opted for French Provinciaclass="underline" stiff brocade chairs, curvy silk couches, gilt-edged case goods, crystal vases stuffed with silk flowers.
On the walls, lots of family photos, amateur quality, including two blond boys who’d been excluded from the wedding.
The remaining space was taken up by photographs of a smiling Wilbur Burdette posing with ribbon-winning farm animals and their owners. A hand-stitched sampler read: THANKS DR. WILL. THE NEWBERRY PARK 4-H CLUB.
Sandra said, “Make yourselves comfortable.”
Not easy with the hard-pack furniture but we faked it and she headed for the kitchen, returning with a black lacquer tray. Thermal pitcher, three mugs, milk and sugar.
“How do you take your coffee?”
Milo said, “Black’s fine.”
I said, “Same here.”
“Tough guys, huh?” Sandra Burdette smiled and turned younger. Mischievous eyes hinted at the apple-cheeked, robust girl she’d once been. She whitened her coffee and dropped in two sugar cubes.
Milo smiled back. “This is great coffee, ma’am.”
“Learned from the best. My dad was a short-order cook in Omaha. Worked double shifts so I could go to college. I studied nursing — human, not critters — worked as an army RN before I met Will.”
We nodded and drank and pretended this was a social visit.
Milo was the first to speak. “Please excuse the question but has anything else come to mind?”
“About the horror? — that’s how I think of it. No, not a single thing. To be honest, I’m trying to forget.”
She set her mug down. “My assumption’s been if it has to do with anyone, and I’m not saying it does, it’s their side.”
“Is there something about them that makes you say that?”
“Logic,” she said. “I know it’s not our side, so who does that leave?” Looking away. “They’re different from us. A little more colorful.”
I said, “Did it surprise you that Garrett went for someone colorful?”
She blinked. “I suppose it did. But with kids you get used to things. You’d better or you’ll always be losing sleep and beating yourself up. Will and I have always been about independence. Respecting the kids’ individuality.”
“Makes sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” she said. “Trust me, it’s the only way.” Her eyelids lowered. “Kids are a challenge.”
I said, “We didn’t get a good feel for Amanda.”
“In what way?”
“She didn’t want to talk to us.”
“My Amanda.” Long sigh. “She’s over-the-top smart, always was. I suppose with that comes... some quirks. She marches to her own drummer and sometimes I’m not sure what the beat is. Garrett and Marilee are more conventional, the two of them were always close. Amanda’s considerably younger. They were always nice to her but I think she felt like an outsider.” A beat. “Amanda’s always been a bit of a nonconformist but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I said, “A real individual.”
“As real as it gets.”
As she’d talked, I’d studied the family photos. Not close enough to see details but a pattern: Amanda standing a foot or so apart.
Sandra Burdette said, “Anyway, that poor girl. I don’t know her from Adam.”
“Her name’s Suzanne DaCosta.”
Head shake.
Milo got up and handed her the picture.
She winced. “She is — was — a pretty thing. You’re sure she’s not one of Brears’s friends?”
Milo took the snap and sat back down. “Doesn’t seem to be.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you. And in answer to your question, yes, I was surprised when Garrett chose Brearely. But she’s been good for Garrett. Brought him out.”
I said, “He’s shy?”
“He was super shy as a kid, then he got more social, had friends. He’s never going to be a party type. He’s studious, earnest. Finds satisfaction in doing things well and that requires time and hard work. Now that he’s settled in a fantastic career, it won’t hurt him to be with a girl like Brearely.”
Trying to sound convinced.
I said, “Getting him out in the world, like the trip to Rome.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Is this Garrett’s first time abroad?”
Milo shot me a sidelong smile. Smooooth.
Sandy Burdette said, “If you don’t count Canada or Mexico. Back when we took family vacations, we went to Lake Louise once and Puerto Vallarta once. Then everyone got serious about school and work and we just stayed here and had barbecues.”
“No European trips for you and Dr. Burdette?”
“Not our thing, that probably makes me sound like a hick. I know it’s beautiful over there, the history, the culture. I’m looking forward to seeing the kids’ pictures when they get back. But with Will’s schedule and, besides, there’s so much of America to see...”
I said, “When we spoke to Garrett and Brearely they talked about an island honeymoon in a few months.”
“They surprised us, too. All of a sudden we get a text from the airport from Brearely — I’m sure the whole thing was her idea, Garrett’s not one for impulsiveness. But like I said, that’s not bad, right?”
Milo said, “Right.” Time for his mug to lower. “Mrs. Burdette, this may sound strange but do you know anyone who’s been to Poland?”
“Poland? Why in the world?”
Trying to sound surprised but not quite getting there. Her eyes slid to the left. Locked. Two brief inhalations, then a return trip. Avoiding looking at us. The knuckles around her mug handle were smooth and pale.
Milo said, “Our job, we have to ask all kinds of questions.” Including one you’ve just answered.
“Poland?” said Sandra Burdette. “The girl was Polish? What was her name — DaCosta? That doesn’t sound Polish.”
“I wish I could say more, ma’am.”
“None of us have ever been to Poland, Lieutenant. The only ones who’ve been to Europe, period, are Marilee and Stu. They went to Portugal on their honeymoon but only because they could combine it with a summer fellowship at the Lisbon school of medicine. But Poland? Never.”