“From your garden?” he asked.
“Yes, I brought them in today. Can I get you something cold to drink?”
“Thanks, that would be nice. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“You’re leaving?”
Looking at her troubled face, he felt another surge of anger toward the man in the garage. Hell, and he hadn’t done so well by her himself; left her waiting around with her husband’s corpse for several hours.
“Just for a minute. I’m just going to go out to the car; I’ll be right back. You’ll be all right?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
Hot as it was outside, it was actually cooler than in the house. The stench from the fire was all that kept him from asking Kaylie to talk to him on the porch. He called in on his radio; Emma, who was feeling guilty about not taking a better message from Kaylie, called him back and told him that she had tried to get the county people to cooperate, but it would be at least an hour before they could get anyone out to him. He gathered up his clipboard and forms.
On his way back to the house, he noticed the air conditioner in the bedroom window. He wondered why she wasn’t using it.
They sat at the table, drinking lemonade, both silent for a time. He decided he would get the business end of all this over and done with so he could spend the rest of the time he waited with her as a friend, not an officer of the law.
“I need to ask you a few questions, Kaylie.”
She nodded. “Go ahead. It’s all right, Jim.”
She was tense again, he could see. He didn’t want to make this any harder on her than it already was. Slowly, he told himself. Take it slow and easy. “Did your husband go to work out at the college today?”
“Yes. He was at the college most of the day. He has a full schedule for summer session. I’m not sure exactly when he got home — I was working in the garden this afternoon. But I heard the phone ring and came in to answer it; Joseph had already picked it up. That was about five o’clock, and it looked like he had just walked in not too long before that.”
“He was dressed like he is now?”
“Yes, that’s what he had on. I think Lillian called before he had a chance to change.”
“Lillian? His daughter?”
“Yes. He talked to her. I... I know there’s never any one reason for these things, but the call seemed to upset him.”
“Why?”
She looked away. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s my fault, not Lillian’s. I don’t think I ever made him very happy.”
“Kaylie.”
She looked back at him.
“Don’t do that to yourself. Please.”
She said nothing for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right, of course.”
“Tell me about the phone call.”
“Lillian called to say she was pregnant.”
“That upset him?”
“I know it sounds foolish, but you have to understand Joseph. He was so afraid of growing old. That’s why he had those affairs with his students.”
He looked at her in surprise.
“Yes, I knew about them. It’s a small town, Jim. I got ‘Dear Abby’ clippings in the mail whenever she ran a column on cheating husbands. Or some anonymous ‘friend’ would call and tell me that she had seen Joseph going into a motel outside of town.”
“Good Lord.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“It doesn’t. I don’t think he saw himself as being much older than his students. Working at the college — well, all I’m saying is, the news that he was going to be a grandfather really shook him up.”
“Did he say anything to you about it?”
“No, not much. But he didn’t change his clothes or go on with his usual routine. He started drinking wine, so I hurried and made dinner, trying to get him to put some food in his stomach. But he kept drinking throughout dinner. I should have known something was wrong then. But when I hinted that he should stop drinking, he became quite foul-tempered. I didn’t feel like putting up with it, not in this heat. So I went back out to the garden. I spent quite a while out there — maybe if I had stayed with him...”
“Kaylie, don’t. None of this is your fault.”
She was silent for a time, then said, “I’m sorry. You must have other questions.”
“Not many more. Had he been depressed or anxious lately, other than tonight?”
She reached toward the vase and absently touched a petal on a yellow rose. “I guess it doesn’t do any harm to talk about this now.”
He waited.
She plucked the petal and held it to her nose, then let it fall to the table. “He didn’t talk to me much, Jim. Not about anything. But recently he had started taking Valium. I don’t even know the doctor who gave him the prescription.”
“Do you know when he last took any?”
She shook her head. “The bottle is in the bathroom. Do you want me to get it for you?”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll take a look at it in a minute. Did you see him again after you came in from the garden?”
“No — I mean, not alive.” She reached up and took another petal from the rose. “This is the part I feel the worst about,” she said softly. She looked over at him.
What is she looking for?
She dropped the petal, reached for another one. “I didn’t know he was out there. I was out in the garden, then cutting flowers and arranging them in this vase. I thought he had gone out, or that he might have gone to bed early. Then I heard the explosion over at the refinery, and I stood out on the porch and watched the flames for a little while. I turned on the radio and listened to the news about it, listened while I washed dishes, cleaned the counters, and mopped the floor. Then I went into the bedroom, where it was cooler. I can’t say I was especially surprised that Joseph wasn’t there. I go to bed alone quite often. Sometimes he comes in late.”
Jim found himself staring at the door to the garage.
“I didn’t go out there until much later,” she rushed on. “I had some laundry to do. That’s when I found him. I came back inside and called you — I mean, called the sheriff’s office.”
Emma had logged the call in at about nine, when things were still hopping from the fire. “So the last time you saw him was about when?”
“I guess it would have been about six thirty.”
“And do you know what time it was when you came in from the garden?”
“A little before sundown; before eight, I suppose.”
He looked at his watch. It was just after one o’clock in the morning; the refinery had been burning since eight thirty. The man could have been out there in the garage for a long time. In this heat, even the coroner might find it difficult to set a time of death very accurately. He did as much of the paperwork as he could, then asked if she would mind if he looked around.
She didn’t object but asked him if it would be all right if she waited back in the bedroom. “It’s cooler in there,” she explained.
Remembering the air conditioner, he understood.
He looked over the living room and the professor’s study. If Joseph Darren had left a suicide note, it was not on any of the clean and tidy surfaces of either room. There was, in fact, nothing very personal in them. Next he looked through the bathroom. Towels and washcloths neatly folded on the rack; chrome on the fixtures shining, toothbrushes in a holder, toothpaste tube rolled from the bottom. No thumbprint on the bottom edge of medicine cabinet, like you’d see in his own house.
All the contents were in well-ordered rows. The medications were lined up, labels facing out. Nonprescription on one side, prescription on another. The Valium bottle was there, half empty even though it had been recently refilled. Maybe the professor had considered pills before he decided to stick to family tradition.