“In the morning.”
“And what exactly did you all do once you found her?”
“Well, we talked about it… about her, of course. Everyone climbed up the ladder and looked at her. That is, I think everyone did.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“No, I guess not.”
“What exactly did you all do?”
“Well, after a very uncomfortable interview with Bobby Valentine, pretending to be Courtney, we went back to work.”
“Inside the house?”
“No. It would have been difficult to work with it… her… Courtney’s body hanging over our heads. We had a lot to do in other parts of the house.”
“So you all stayed away from the canoe for the rest of the day?”
“Yes.”
“No one went in that room?”
“Well, that’s not true. We probably all went in there at one time or another. I know what you’re thinking, Sam, and you’re wrong. No one could have moved the body without someone else knowing.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking, but why don’t you explain why not.”
“Because it was up in the canoe and getting that canoe down to the floor without dumping it”-Josie suddenly had a vision of Courtney’s body-“her out would have been impossible.”
“And would that matter? After all, she’s already dead. Or do you mean that it would make a lot of noise and attract attention?”
That wasn’t what Josie had meant, but she was willing to accept his suggestion. “Yes. Exactly.”
“But one person could have brought the canoe down from the ceiling?”
Josie thought back to the elaborate pulley system that held the canoe up. “Yes, I think so. Someone strong though. It isn’t one of the new fiberglass affairs, remember, it’s handmade from wood. I haven’t lifted it myself, but it probably weighs a couple hundred pounds. We had one when I was a kid, and it weighed at least that much.” She stopped talking and picked up her fork, hoping Sam would give her a chance to eat. For once she wasn’t hungry, but she had just had a flash from her past, a memory startling in its clearness. She and Courtney had been members of the same Girl Scout troop (at her mother’s insistence) and one entire miserable weekend they had been paired by their troop leader for the annual camping-canoe trip. Courtney’s older brother had required the family’s new sleek fiberglass vessel and so the pair of thirteen-year-old girls had paddled up and down the Delaware River in the Pigeons’ handmade craft. It had been awful. Too heavy to carry around rapids, the boat had been repeatedly smashed against rocks and fallen limbs. Courtney, her hair tied back in a navy and white bandanna that matched her outfit of trim white poplin shorts and Brooks Brothers’ navy polo, had been stonily silent, obviously appalled to be parted from the clique of popular girls and their up-to-date sporting goods. Josie had struggled to make the best of it, but her eyes had been filled with tears more than once and she had been so miserable that even her mother’s relentless angry comments about the damaged canoe couldn’t minimize the relief she felt when the trip had finally ended and she was safely home.
“Did anyone else come into the house after you discovered Courtney’s body?”
“I suppose so. The television crew is in and out all the time.”
“How many people are there with the show?”
Josie thought for a minute. “Five most of the time. Bobby Valentine, of course. And a cameraman-no, two cameramen although one is a woman. Someone is always running around setting up some sort of equipment-I suppose he could be a third cameraman-and there’s the intern. The one Annette has a crush on.”
“Anyone else? Deliverymen or the like?”
“I don’t think so. No one I remember.”
“Okay. Tell me about the rest of the day.”
“There’s nothing much to tell. We worked. The camera crew worked-”
“Doing what?”
“Actually, I don’t know. But they seem to stay very busy.”
“Did they do any more taping? More interviews?”
“No. Is that odd?”
“Frankly, I don’t know. I once dated”-he glanced up at Josie, who had frequently accused him of having dated someone in every possible profession-“a television producer. But she worked for a major public television station and that may be different from freelancing for public television, but all I know is that she seemed to always be busy.”
“Really.” Josie was jealous. She was always busy, too, but wearing dirty overalls and T-shirts, not wearing Armani and lunching at 21. “Oh, the Rodneys stopped by.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
“Did you get the impression that they knew about Courtney?”
“No. They didn’t say anything about it.”
“And I think we can be sure they’d mention your hiding a murder victim. Which leads us back to my first question. How did you know she was murdered? Is it just because of the place you found her? Or did you see a wound?”
“I didn’t see anything. In fact, she looked wonderful.”
Sam squinted at her. “Wonderful? You’re sure she was dead?”
“I’m sure.”
“And she wasn’t pale or anything?”
“Actually, she looked like she was wearing makeup.” Josie thought for a minute. “You know, I think she was. She had on eye shadow. And probably blush and lipstick.”
“Really?”
“Of course, Courtney probably hasn’t been seen without makeup in public since she was in eighth grade.”
“Unlike some women we know and love.” Basil appeared at their table, a small plate in his hand. “I hope you two are enjoying your meal.”
“Definitely.”
“It’s wonderful.” Josie agreed with what Sam said.
“The chef is still experimenting with new things. Try these, a variation on shrimp toast. And, if you don’t mind, I’ll get myself a drink and join you.”
“Have a glass of our wine and sit down,” Sam said.
“Let me say good evening to my most famous guests, then I’ll get a glass and be right back.”
“Your most famous guests?”
“Yes. The staff of the Courtney Castle show. I want to talk to you about them and I’d rather they didn’t overhear anything.”
Josie almost choked on her food. This was what she had been hoping for!
TWENTY-TWO
THE DAY’S EVENTS and two dinners had taken their toll; Josie was exhausted by the time she arrived home.
“I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” Sam said, glancing up at the lights burning in the windows on the second floor. “Looks like Tyler is still awake.”
“I think he said something this morning about having a friend stay over.” It seemed like years ago. She looked up at Sam. “I figure if he has friends over they’ll reciprocate and he will stay with them. I love having him home, but…” She didn’t have to finish the sentence. They had agreed that Tyler should remain ignorant of their sex life and thus it was impossible for them to spend the night together while he was home. It had only been a few weeks, but she missed their closeness.
“Good thought.” Sam leaned over and kissed her good night. “I’ll stop by early tomorrow. I want to think about this evening. Your story was incredible enough, but I sure don’t know how it fits in with what Basil said.”
“So I’ll see you early tomorrow?”
“Yup. I’ll bring doughnuts.”
“Make that crumb cake.”
“You got it.” A few more kisses, then he returned to his car. Josie heard the engine start as she opened the door and climbed the stairs to her home.
Her apartment door was locked-a pleasant surprise. She had asked Tyler repeatedly to lock it if he planned on falling asleep or showering before she arrived home. He usually ridiculed her suggestion (“Ma, you’re paranoid. I’m not a small kid. What do you think is going to happen? Are you worried that someone will walk in the door and abduct me?”). Since that was just one of the scenarios that kept her awake at night, she only smiled stiffly and repeated her request. And, son of a gun, he had remembered.