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On the day before Thanksgiving, Wendy took the cordless phone into the living room and called her mother.
“Just checking to make sure you have plans for tomorrow,” she said, after her mom asked if there was a reason she’d called.
“Going to Alan’s. Didn’t he tell you? Although it’s going to be too many people for me. Mindy’s whole side of the family will be there.”
“Well, I’m happy. I didn’t want to think of you being alone on Thanksgiving.”
“I knew that’s why you called. I don’t see what the big deal is. I’m alone today and I’ll be alone the day after Thanksgiving. Doesn’t bother me at all.”
“Mom, when did you get so folksy?”
“I’m just being practical.”
“I know you are.”
“Who’s coming to your house tomorrow? Thom’s parents?”
“They’re coming, yes. Just for the day, like they always do.”
“How’s my Jason doing?” It was a new phrase of her mother’s, calling her son “my Jason,” and Wendy had decided she liked it.
“He’s in a detective phase. A detective reading phase, I should say. Lots of crime novels.”
“No more comic books?”
“A few, but, no, he’s all about the dark adult books right now.”
They talked some more about Jason, and then her mom talked about her dogs, telling stories about them like they were her children. Before ending the call, Wendy told her to have a nice Thanksgiving.
“Alan’s invited me over. I’m sure you were worried about it.”
“Yes, you told me, Mom.”
“I know I did. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t fret.”
After ending the call, Wendy sat on the couch for a while, trying to figure out what to do next. When the doorbell chimed its five-note tune, she was confused for a moment. All of their neighbors came around the back and knocked on their door. Who would be at the front door?
It turned out to be a police detective, shockingly young, skinny, and nearly completely bald. He showed her his badge—his name was Michael Elo—and asked if he could come in.
“Of course. I was just about to make coffee,” Wendy said, even though she hadn’t been. “Can I get you something?”
“I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you, though. I just have a few quick questions.”
Wendy heard a creak on the stairs and remembered that Jason was home because of the half day. She wondered if he’d come halfway down the stairs and was eavesdropping on the conversation.
“It’s not about our cat, is it?”
Detective Elo laughed and said, “No, it’s not about your cat. Is there something I should know?”
“One of our neighbors calls the police if our cat kills a bird. It’s happened before.”
“No, I’m here about Alexander Deighton.”
“Oh yeah?” Wendy was surprised. Alexander Deighton had been the chair of her husband’s department. His death over the summer had been ruled an accidental drowning.
“I have a few questions about your husband’s relationship to him that I was hoping you could answer.”