“I guess that’s true,” said Puller. He kept his gaze on the man, willing him to pick up the pace and get to what he really needed to know.
“I managed to open the gate latch and stepped into the backyard. I was looking at the door as I came around the corner of the house. I almost didn’t look in the direction of her little fountain pool, but luckily I did. I couldn’t see it from where my deck is situated, you see. But now I could.”
Puller stopped him there. “Okay, if you could just take it one step at a time. Tell me everything you saw, smelled, heard.”
Puller had taken out a notebook and Cookie looked at it anxiously. “The police told me it was an accident.”
“The police might be right. Then again, they might be wrong.”
“So you came down to investigate?”
“I came down to see my aunt. When I found out she was dead, I paid my respects. Then I switched to investigation mode to make sure she didn’t leave this world against her wishes.”
Cookie gave a little shudder and continued. “I saw her lying in the fountain pool. It’s only about two feet deep. You’d think no one could drown in it. But she was facedown, her entire head was underwater.”
“Which way was she facing?”
“Her head was pointed toward the house.” “Arms outstretched or by her side?”
Cookie considered this for a few moments, obviously trying to picture the scene in his mind. “Right arm outstretched and over top of the stone surround. Her left arm was by her side.” “Her legs?”
“Splayed.”
“Her walker?”
“On the ground on the right side of the pool.” “What did you do next?”
“I ran over to her. At that point I didn’t know if she was dead or alive. I kicked off my sandals and walked directly into the water. I grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her head out of the water.”
Puller thought about this. Cookie had wrecked the crime scene. He had to do it, because like he’d said, he didn’t know if Betsy was still alive. Crime scenes could be legitimately tainted by first responders trying to save lives. That trumped even preserving evidence. In this case, unfortunately, it had been for naught.
“But she wasn’t?”
Cookie shook his head. “I’ve seen a few dead people in my life. Not just at funerals and such. Smoke inhalation killed my little sister over fifty years ago. One of my best friends drowned in a pond when we were teenagers. Betsy’s face was deathly white. Her eyes were open, her mouth hung loosely. There was no pulse, no sign of life.” “Foam around the mouth?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Were her limbs stiff or supple?”
“They seemed a little stiff.”
“But just a little?”
“Yes.”
“Upper arms stiff or supple?”
“Stiff. But her hands seemed normal, if cold.” “What did you do then?”
“I set her back down exactly as I had found her. I watch a lot of CSI and NCIS. I know you’re not supposed to mess with the area where a body is found. Then I went back to my house and called the police. They showed up about five minutes later. A man and a woman.”
“Landry and Hooper?”
“Yes, that’s right. How did you know that?” “Long story. Were you around when they went over the scene?”
“No. They took my statement and then asked me to go back to my house, and to stay there in case they had any other questions. Other police cars showed up and then I saw a woman with a medical bag drive up, get out, and go into the backyard.”
“Medical examiner,” said Puller.
“Right. Then a black hearse arrived a few hours later. I watched them bring Betsy out on a gurney with a white sheet over her. They put her in the hearse and it drove off.”
Cookie sat back, obviously exhausted and saddened by retelling the story. “I’m really going to miss her.”
“Did she still drive? I saw the car in the garage.”
“Not really. I mean, I hadn’t seen her out in the car in a while.”
“But she was still capable of driving?”
“I would say no. Her legs were weak and her reflexes were shot. Her spine was bent. I’m not sure how she dealt with the pain.” He paused. “Come to think of it, she did go out the day before I found her. I saw Jerry drive up.”
“Jerry?”
“Jerry Evans. He has a car service. I’ve used him. He picked Betsy up around six in the evening and she was back around thirty minutes later.”
“Short trip. Any idea where she went?”
“Yep. I asked Jerry. He said to mail a letter.” Puller knew it was the letter. “Why not just put it in the mailbox out front?”
“Our mail comes early here. Jerry said the box she used had a later pickup. It would go out that night.”
Puller thought, She mailed a letter. And a bit later she was dead.
Before Puller could even ask, Cookie handed him a business card with Jerry’s name and number on it.
“Thanks. Did she often go into the backyard at night by herself?”
“She liked to sit on the bench by the fountain pool. Usually during the day. To catch the sunlight. I’m not the best person to ask about what she did later at night. She normally went to bed long before I did. I like to get out and about. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but anyone in their seventies is considered a ‘young’un’ down here. We’re supposed to go out at night and party hearty.”
“Did you notice anything suspicious the night before you found her? People, sounds, anything?”
“I was out visiting friends across town so I probably wouldn’t have seen anything. I got home late. Everything seemed normal.”
“Was she dressed in her pajamas or regular clothes?”
“Regular clothes.”
“So the probability was she died the night before. She hadn’t been to bed.”
Cookie nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Over the last few days leading up to my aunt’s death, did she talk to you about anything she was concerned about?”
“Like what?” Cookie asked, looking curious. “Anything out of the ordinary. Did she mention a person? An event? Something she’d seen, perhaps at night?”
“No, nothing like that. Was she worried about something?”
“Yeah, I think she was,” said Puller. “And it looks like she might have had good reason to be.”
CHAPTER 18
Puller sat in his rental and called the medical examiner, Louise Timmins, and after that the attorney, Grif Mason. Timmins was a practicing physician busy with patients until six that evening. Mason was out of the office at a meeting. Puller arranged to meet Timmins at seven at a nearby cafe and he left a message with Mason’s office to call him back when he returned.
He called Jerry, the driver, who confirmed what Cookie had already told him but added, “She looked tired, and worried about something.”
Puller thanked him, clicked off, and thought back to Cookie’s commentary. Upper arms stiff, hands normal. Rigor started in the upper extremities before moving outward. Then it went away in the reverse order. She had not been dead long enough for the process to start reversing.
Puller thought through the possible timetable. She had mailed a letter at six p.m. and her body was found at eleven a.m. the next day. Puller didn’t think she had died the moment she had returned from the mailbox but probably later that evening. So stiff upper arms told Puller that rigor was just beginning on his aunt’s body. That meant that when Cookie found her she had been dead probably about twelve to fourteen hours. That number could be skewed by the Florida heat and humidity, which would speed up a body’s decomposition, but it at least gave Puller a range to work with. If Cookie found her shortly after eleven her death might have occurred around ten the previous night, give or take. Or about four hours after she mailed the letter.