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Leaning against the back wall of the house, Tony shook his head. He was being premature. Tomorrow, they’d know from dental records whether this was Christine Marshall. Until he had that confirmation, there was no use doing too much speculating.
Beth slipped out the French door, looking surprised to see him. “I thought you’d gone.”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Couple of things.” He’d been worried about her, but he couldn’t say that. Keeping an eye on her the way he had today, that had had nothing to do with his job. What he’d seen was a strong woman holding up under painful circumstances, still able to be supportive to the rest of her family. At this point, he couldn’t afford to like her too much. “I don’t want anyone touching the stuff you packed that’s out here. Can I depend on your father to keep his hands off?” He’d debated moving it all into the garage, but that wouldn’t protect it from his main suspect. At least in this climate, at this time of year, he didn’t have to worry about rain.
“Yes. Good heavens! Even if he wanted to find something, how would he be able to figure out where it is?” Beth’s laugh was sad. “I don’t think he cared what we did with anything in the garage. Why would he now?”
Because his dead wife’s body had been discovered?
“People panic.” He watched her. “He didn’t try to put you off tackling the garage? Or ask you to keep hands off anything?”
Her eyes briefly narrowed, but she answered with a no before hesitating. “The only thing he said when we got started was not to throw away anything important.”
Though tempted, he didn’t say, What about your brother? Did he try to put you off? Maybe agree to help so he could steer you away from that part of the garage?
If that’s what Matt had had in mind, he’d failed in a big way, hadn’t he?
Beth looked at the fruit of their weekend’s labor. A strip of yellow crime scene tape now wrapped the pile. “Will you have to go through it all?”
“Very possibly.” Considering how much was still in the garage, too, he almost groaned. “It depends what was out here, how you reorganized it.”
“We’ve already dumped some stuff in the garbage can,” she said suddenly. “And the recycling container, too.”
He sighed. “I’d better take a look in both before I go.”
“I was going to order a Dumpster tomorrow.”
“Hold off for now. I’ll let you know when it’s okay to go ahead.”
She nodded, looking more drained than upset, which was understandable. He’d been lucky today to have her cooperation, to have her answer questions. That didn’t excuse the way his body stirred at the sight of her.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes. I got Dad to eat a bite. I suggested he spend the night at my place, but he’s set in his ways.”
A spark of irritation reminded Tony of what her father had said earlier. Bethie was old enough to take over helping her sister and making meals, so nothing changed all that much. Maybe he shouldn’t admire her for enabling her father’s selfishness.
She’d probably say she loved him enough to overlook some flaws. Tony grimaced out of view. God knows, he kept performing chores for his mother that she could afford to pay to have done. Of all people, he should understand.
As they walked the narrow passage alongside the house, Beth slid a glance at the window, covered with sheets of newspaper, before she looked determinedly away. Tony touched her back.
“Try to think about something else.”
She gave a broken laugh. “I never drink, but I’m reconsidering that. I go right by the liquor store on my way home.”
He smiled at her. “Might help tonight, but you’d be guaranteed a hangover in the morning.”
She wrinkled her nose. “One reason I stay away from even beer and wine. My stomach doesn’t handle alcohol well.”
“Your father likely to drown his worries tonight?”
“I doubt he has so much as a beer in the house. He’s never been a drinker either.”
“Maybe you inherited the weak stomach from him,” Tony suggested.
