Of course, she always had trouble finding her key. She dropped her bag on the floor with a loud clunk, but before she could find it, the door opened.
“Hi! Mom! Hi!” Her son and a boy she didn’t recognize were standing before her, foolish smiles on their faces.
“Hi, sweetie,” she answered, too tired to remember how much her son hated her calling him that.
But tonight Tyler seemed genuinely happy to see her. “Mom, this is Eric Swanson. His uncle owns Family Video.”
Josie offered her hand to the young man. “Nice to meet you, Eric.” She turned back to Tyler. “It’s been long day and if you two don’t need anything, I’d really like to get to bed.”
The young men assured her that she was extraneous, and she headed off to her bedroom. She showered and fell into bed, too exhausted to worry about Courtney’s death and where her body had gone.
But she woke up worried about Tyler. The summer wasn’t turning out as she had planned. She always worked hard, year round when she could get the contracts, but spring and summer were Island Contracting’s busiest months and working from sunup to sunset was normal. Tyler, though always busy with some project or part-time job, had been home in the evening, ready to spend time with his mother. This year things were different. Tyler was working many evenings, and when he wasn’t, there always seemed to be a friend of his around. He thought he was grown up, but she knew better. He still needed a mother. She had to find a way for them to spend more time together.
She drove up to the work site and hopped out of her truck. The television vans were still there, but there was no sign of Sam’s little sports car. Oh, well, he was probably at the bakery, picking up crumb cake and coffee. At least that’s what she hoped.
Still thinking about Tyler, she was startled by a loud voice calling her name. “Hey! You! Pigeon!”
It was a man’s voice. And he sounded angry.
Josie turned around, trying to find its source. “I don’t see… Oh, there you are. I didn’t know who was talking.”
“What’s wrong with her, Howard? She on drugs or something?”
The couple next door stood on their front deck. By the expressions on their faces, Josie guessed they weren’t there to enjoy the beautiful morning. Oh, lord, as if she didn’t have enough troubles… Josie put a smile on her face and walked toward them. “Good morning,” she started hopefully, trying to remember whether any of the work scheduled for today was noisier or dirtier than usual.
“We need to talk.” Howard didn’t return her smile.
“Right this minute.” His wife ditto.
“I’m sorry about the noise-”
“We’re not concerned with undue noise,” Howard stated.
“Although they could keep it down a bit, Howard,” his wife added.
Josie tried again. “The dirt. There’s always lots of dust during the demolition phase, but I assure you that’s almost over-”
“It’s not the dust,” Howard informed her.
“The windowsills have been filthy, Howard. Just filthy. We don’t come to the beach to breathe dirty air.”
“The trucks-”
This time his wife spoke up first. “They make a lot of noise and their exhaust is awful, just awful, Howard. There’s no reason such a small job should require so many trucks-”
“It’s not the trucks,” he said, interrupting his wife.
Nothing would be gained by losing her temper-but Josie did it anyway. “So what the hell is it?”
“Don’t get snippy with me, young woman. I… I happen to be friends with the owners of this house-your employers, I must remind you-and I’m sure they would be interested in knowing what is going on in their home.”
Shit! They knew about the murder! “Going on?” Josie repeated, stalling for time. How much did they know?
Howard frowned and spoke one word. “Inappropriate.”
That was one way of looking at it. “I guess,” Josie said weakly.
His wife was less succinct. “I thought maybe we could force ourselves to accept the dirt, the noise, all the commotion from the television people and the press and all, but when I saw what was going on… Well, I don’t think you should expect people to put up with that type of thing. Almost in our own backyard.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see what I can do about it.”
“You don’t see… She says she doesn’t see, Howard!”
“I hear her, Cheryl. I hear her.”
“The world is going to hell in a handbasket. That’s what my father always said and he was right,” Cheryl continued to rant.
That was one of the frequently used parental phrases when Josie was growing up also. But this wasn’t the time to reminisce, she realized. Josie started again. “I am very sorry, but what’s happened has happened. I really don’t know what I can do other than find out whose fault-”
She was caught off guard by Howard’s change of topic. “What is the name of the contracting company remodeling that house?”
On the other hand, at least she knew the answer to this question. “Island Contracting. There’s a sign in the front yard.” She pointed over her shoulder.
“And who is the owner of Island Contracting?”
“I am.”
“And ask her how that happened, Howard. I heard that a man left her the company. And why would he do that if they hadn’t been having an improper relationship? Ask her about that, Howard.”
“Don’t change the subject, Cheryl. We’re talking about how she runs her company, not how she came to run her company!”
Josie had to think that one through. “Noel and I were just friends. He didn’t leave me Island Contracting because we were lovers, he left it to me because he thought I would run it the way he wanted it run.”
“That’s not what we hear, missy.”
“Cheryl-” her husband started, but she wasn’t going to be interrupted.
“We hear that you and this Noel person were more than friends. A lot more. So much more that you had a son by him!”
Josie was stunned. She had no idea what to say. “I…”
“Acting as though you inherited the company because you were the best person for the job! How stupid do you think we are? What do you know about being a carpenter?”
“Cheryl…”
“I am an excellent carpenter. And you have no right to talk about things you know nothing about. Everyone on the island, everyone who knew Noel… or knows me… everyone would tell you that what you’re saying is completely untrue. Completely!”
“And beside the point entirely,” Howard roared. “Miss Pigeon, what are you going to do about that slut you have hired?”
“That slut?” Josie was stunned. “What slut?”
“She hired more than one slut, Howard! You heard her admit it! Who knows what those women are doing when we’re not watching!”
Josie realized what was going on-or at least enough to ask the correct question. “What did you see?”
“We saw one of your carpenters with one of those television people!” Cheryl crossed her arms and stepped back as though she was a lawyer who had just finished an elaborate closing argument.
“Who?”
“The young one,” Cheryl said. “In fact, you could say the young ones. That girl on your crew and that boy who came along with Courtney Castle.”
“Annette and Chad?” Annette and Chad were the problem? Josie was so relieved, she felt faint. These horrible people didn’t know about the murder! They were talking about Annette and Chad! “What about them bothers you?” she asked quietly.
“Well, that slut and that-”
“Annette is not a slut.” Josie spoke firmly, and it seemed to have an impression on Howard.
“That may be. But we’re not concerned with her morality here. What she does on her own time is, naturally, her own business. But you should be concerned about what she does while you are paying her, don’t you think?”
“Well, I…”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t want to be paying people to have sex.”