CONSIDERING MURDER
Part 9
My need and effort at writing met abject
failure. I gave in to my emotional needs and stuck with hard physical work.
With trepidation I weed whacked the banks of my pond. It had been seventeen
days since Amy died—nearly two weeks since I was told not to leave the
jurisdiction. Even though there was no sign of life at the Hayes place I did
not leave my house scantily clad. I resented every minute I was forced to dress
like the Hayes demanded. My dress admit was at times scanty but never indecent.
Despite what little Amy said. And I chafed at the half trimmed pond bank. “Damn
little bitch” I uttered and couldn’t help but look around to see if there was
anyone in earshot. The last time I said that I ended up in court. Yes I hated
the little bitch. But I did not kill her.
I heard before I saw the U-Haul truck headed
for the Hayes place. From a distance where I could see I watched the two men—one
Harold, the other I did not know—exit the
truck and enter the trailer. I waited in
vain for some activity and finally gave up.
Jennifer did not answer my call to inform
her of the moving truck. I left a message and settled down to wait and watch. A
blue Passat—only one person, the driver—was followed in minutes by a red
corolla. Surely not the ‘no longer needed nursery builder’ I thought.
I grabbed the ringing phone. “Jennifer”, I
said ,“I think they’re moving stuff out of the Hayes Place.”
“Connie, who the Hell is Jennifer?”
Nobody knew this number. That was my plan—uninterrupted
work time. Nobody knew this number but Jackie Mathis, my agent. “Jackie, that
you?”
“Indeed it is. Two things. First, you’re
overdue sending me the first chapter. Second, what have you gotten yourself
into?”
Jackie worked out of upstate New York. No
way could she know about Amy’s death. “What do you mean-what have I gotten
myself into?”
“What’s all this about you’re being mixed
up in a mysterious death? Maybe even murder.”
I was living in the boondocks. This was not
a major crime ready for 48 HOURS. It wasn’t even definite it was a crime. Even
the local paper carried it only as a death—not a possible crime. “Jackie, how in Hades did you hear about this?”
“My ex mother-in-law told Ed, and Ed told
me.” Ed was her ex, divorced eight or nine years ago.
“And how did your mother-in- law know?”
“Ex mother-in-law. Ed’s sister lives not
fifteen miles from you. Married to a Methodist minister, stationed there– or whatever it is they do to the
Methodist ministers."
Now Jackie’s rocky failed marriage made
sense. She was more anti-religion than I—if that is possible. “Now Connie, is
that what’s keeping from writing? I can’t work on your contract without something
to show. When am I getting something?”
“Soon.”
“See to it. Now what is this mess? Are you
in trouble?”
I did not know if I was in trouble. “No,
just have the bad luck of living next door to the dead girl. I’ll get something
to you in two or three days. Count on it.”
“I’m counting.”
With a mere two pages done I had my work
cut out for me. Staring blankly at the blank computer screen with little enthusiasm
I pulled up my two pages. Drivel. Crap. ERASE I hit and it was gone. I was typing a list of facts in the Amy
case when Jennifer called. “Jennifer here. Truck still there?”
“I think so. Haven’t heard or seen it
leave.”
“I’ll do some checking and get back to you.
You OK?”
“So so,” I said and wished it were only so
so. “My agent called. She’s pushing me for a chapter and I don’t have one.”
“Then you’d better get hopping. I’ll let
you know what I find out. And eat something.”
i
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