Officer Bouchard placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, silencing me.“She’s dead,” he revealed with a soft wince.
I balked at this, unable to believe it.“Dead?” How could she be dead? Surely this was just another of her tricks. At this point I wouldn’t put it past her to fake her death and then frame me for it.
“As a doornail,” my friend in blue confirmed. “C’mon.” He motioned for me to follow him around the house to where a little shed stood out back. The entire area was sectioned off with bright yellow crime scene tape.
Hmm. If this was a ruse, it was a mighty elaborate one.
“We still need to get an official report from the coroner, but we’re reasonably sure this was an accidental death,” he said, then pointed straight ahead. “Look.”
I ventured closer to the shed and found my neighbor lying on the ground with her feet pointing straight up and a giant burlap bag covering her face and chest. Whatever was in that bag, it sure looked heavy.
“What happened?” I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away.
“Looks like this bag of deer feed fell off the top shelf when she wasn’t expecting it, hit her clear on the head, and knocked her out.” He pointed to the sharp metal frame of the shelf opposite. “She caught the edge there on her way down, sustaining a major head wound, then bled out before help could arrive.”
Sure enough, a sticky puddle had flooded the small shed, staining the wooden floorboards red. The nauseating tang of iron filled the air, making me feel like I was going to be sick. If I had been home, would I have heard the crash? Would I have come to check in on her? No, I realized with bleak certainty, I wouldn’t have even bothered to think twice.
I stepped back and turned away from the grisly scene, clutching a hand to my chest. Officer Bouchard followed me and offered his condolences, even though my words upon arriving at the scene should have made it clear I’d never been a fan of the old lady who lived next door.
“May I ask you a question?” I said, once I managed to get the bile in my stomach to stop churning. When he nodded his assent, I continued, “What was her name? I never knew it.” Somehow it seemed important that I know now.
He checked his notes and let out a chuff.“Looks like this was a Ms. Miller. Ms. Angela Miller.”
We had the same name? How was that possible?
It’s not as if Angie was an overly unique moniker, but still, the revelation that my sworn enemy had shared my name hit me in an odd way. Somehow, despite all the strife she’d caused me in the last two weeks, this simple revelation humanized her. And suddenly I felt very sad.
What had happened to make this Angela’s life so terrible? To make it easier for her to mail a letter next door than to simply stop by and talk? She must have been miserable and lonely—very, very lonely.
I don’t know what I could have done differently, other than to be more patient, to give her a bit of time to open up to us. Maybe. I mean, if such a thing were even possible.
“Was it a quick death?” I asked, raising my hand to chew on a hangnail that had been bothering me all day.
“Probably not, I’m afraid, but it does appear she was unconscious, so probably not too aware of the pain.”
“Oh.” I glanced back into the shed at the unlucky corpse, the heavy bag on top of her, and the pooled blood beneath her. Farther back, the shed was lined with a smattering of gardening tools, bags of fertilizer, and several more burlap sacks like the one that had knocked old Angela unconscious but much smaller. Why had she been reaching for the largest one when there were others she could have grabbed instead? Such a simple decision—choosing the big bag instead of the little one—had ended her life.
I couldn’t even be happy that my problems were now over, not when it had cost someone their life. I was just about to thank the officer and head home to share the news with Nan and the pets when a terrible thrashing sound tore through the air followed by a panicked braying of some kind.
Officer Bouchard grabbed his gun and pointed it in the general direction of the sound, motioning for me to get behind him until he’d cleared whatever threat lay in wait.
But instead I dodged his attempts to shelter me and ran straight for the forest…
7
I chased an odd pair of yellow streamers as they trailed deep into the woods. The police and paramedics stayed back, but they didn’t know what was going on—I did.
“Wait,” I called as I stepped carefully over a fallen branch but still snagged my foot anyhow. “Let me help you!”
But I couldn’t keep up, and soon the object of my pursuit disappeared from view, taking the dancing yellow ribbons with him.
“What was that?” Officer Bouchard asked when I returned to the small crowd in my now-deceased neighbor’s backyard. “And why in God’s name would you run toward it?”
I leaned down and put a hand on each of my knees, woefully out of breath after the short burst of exercise. Nan would have my head if she knew how much I’d let myself go after we stopped our morning jogs.
“A big buck,” I wheezed. “He wandered too close and got the crime scene tape tangled up in his antlers. The poor thing was scared out of his mind.”
Bouchard tsked and shook his head.“A frightened animal is a dangerous one, which means you could have gotten yourself seriously injured back there. Think your nan would ever let me live it down if something happened to you on my watch?”
I rose to my full height and sighed.“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Apologizing was easier than explaining why I knew I’d be safe. Nan may have enjoyed blabbing about my secret abilities to all who would hear, but I preferred to keep mum.
Officer Bouchard gave me a friendly nudge on the shoulder.“Nothing bad came of it, but take a little better care with yourself, would you? We only have one Angie Russo in this town, and I’d kind of like to keep her.”
I liked the officer, but I’d already seen more than I was comfortable seeing here. I’d happened upon more than one corpse in my day, but somehow Ms. Miller’s irked me more than all the others combined. Maybe it’s because we shared a name. Or maybe it was because of how I hated her, how I couldn’t shake that this was somehow my fault.
Whatever the case, I just wanted to get home.
“I suppose I’ll let you get back to it,” I said with a tight smile, unable to summon an authentic one. “Please let me know if there’s anything Nan or I can do to help with the investigation.”
The policeman stretched both hands over his head and yawned.“There’s no investigation. Seems like a pretty open and shut accidental death. Just as soon as we finish following procedure, we’ll be ready to turn things over to the next of kin. Provided we can find some.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say to that. The whole thing was just very sad and unfortunate. “Well, good luck.”
I hung my head and walked away, wondering if I’d somehow inadvertently contributed to the other Angie’s untimely demise. I’d sure sent a lot of angry thoughts her way this past week. Maybe even wished she’d just disappear once and for all. But I never would have seriously wanted another human being to die just because she irritated me.Okay, maybe she did more than simply irritate me, but still… Of course, I knew it didn’t help anyone now, me feeling sorry for myself, but I just couldn’t help it.
I kept my gaze lowered to the ground as I traced my way back around the house, ready to head home, toss on my favorite PJs, and share the news with the others. If I’d been walking normally, I probably wouldn’t have spotted the dusty tracks that led up to the basement egress window. I stopped abruptly, facing directly in toward the house. Maybe the old woman had locked herself out at some point and was looking for another way in, but somehow I doubted that. For starters, these tracks were enormous—far bigger than my own feet and definitely larger than the dainty ones I’d seen peeking out from the shed in the backyard. Someone—a man probably—had been spying on the neighbor. But why?