of Mrs. Abernathy and wondered why in the fuck she would think that someone like Jane watched the Family Channel . âNot recently,â Jane replied.
âOh, you should ! Itâs so uplifting to the spirit! This particular show was âSharing of the Heart.â It was all about people traveling the world finding what needs to be fixed or changed and making it happen! Very inspirational .â
Jesus Christ , Jane thought. Her oldest friend in the world is stiff as a board on a bed not twenty feet away and sheâs yammering on about The Family Channel and people fixing the problems in this world . âInspirational.â
ââBe the change you want to see in this world.ââ Laura said with a soft smile, echoing a quote from Gandhi.
Be the fucking change , Jane mused. She needed to quickly change the subject before Laura tried to sign her up for a peace march. âSo you came by this morning?â
âYes,â Laura replied, her face shadowing with sadness.
âHow did you get in the house?â
âI have a key. When Carolyn goes away, I come over and water her plants and pick up her mail. Sometimes I dust.â
Sometimes I dust ? Jesus! The relationship was now clearly defined for Jane. Laura was Carolynâs dependable doormat. âAnd you saw nothing out of place?â
âNo. Nothing.â She leaned to the side to catch another glimpse of Carolynâs dead body. âUntil I got . . .up here ...â
Jane moved her chair once again to block Lauraâs view. âWas the alarm set?â
Laura settled back in her chair, fatigue beginning to show. âExcuse me?â
âThe security system? Was it set?â
âYes. I know the code. I have one minute from the time I enter to get to the keypad and punch in the five numbers that disable it. Same thing in reverse when I leave. Punch in the code and I have one minute to leave.â
âWhat are those numbers?â Jane asked.
âI canât remember. Itâs based on a word. Thatâs how Carolyn set it up.â
âAnd whatâs that word, Laura?â
She seemed embarrassed as she leaned forward and quietly revealed the answer. âM-O-N-E-Y.â
The rest of the interview, Laura fretted that someone needed to contact Carolynâs only next of kinâher forty-year-old nephew, Joe Harveyâwho was out of town in California âtalking to a charity.â Jane found his phone number in Carolynâs Rolodex and made the call. It was another facet of her job that she didnât excel in. But what was unusual about her quick chat with Joe Harvey was that she got the impression Carolynâs nephew wasnât surprised by the news. âIâm in California on business, but Iâll get a plane out today,â he told her, sounding rather inconvenienced by his auntâs murder.
Laura was fingerprinted to exclude any prints of hers in the house. She seemed to like the attention she was getting from one of the cops. After her prints were taken, she asked the ânice policemanâ who had patiently stood
by her side to please take her home. Another cop would follow behind in Lauraâs old car. Jane thought how Laura looked like a playful pixie as she exited the room, her arm hooked under the ânice policemanâsâ elbow.
Jane sidled up to Weyler who was talking quietly with a crime scene tech. âWhere are the security tapes?â
âTheyâre working on that downstairs,â Weyler replied. Jane stared at Carolyn as a tech took close-up shots of the urine stain and feces next to her body. How far can a person fall to end up like thisâhaving their piss and shit photographed? Fucking humiliating, Jane thought.
But that was all part of this ritualistic murder scene. Humiliation. Revenge. Shock. Suffering. Karma . People may not remember how you live, but they sure as hell remember how you died if your death was graphic.