“It’s a lot, if you’re looking for money.”
“She kept it here.” Courtney crossed to the jewelry box, which was marred by black fingerprint dust. “Most of her jewelry was costume, and it’s still here. She didn’t like it when I gave her real gold jewelry. She was one of those people who liked experiences rather than material things.”
“He took no jewelry?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Is it obvious it’s costume?”
“I don’t know. Do men know stuff like that?” Courtney kept looking through the jewelry. “It’s disgusting to think herkillerwas in here, touching her jewelry. They better get this animal. I’ll get him myself, I swear to God.”
“I wonder if he knew she had money in her jewelry box. Did she ever hire kids to help her around the house?”
“The detective asked me that, too, but not that I know of. She didn’t mention hiring anybody, and her circle was small. She doesn’t go to church anymore, but she still has her church friends, Susan and Mona. I’ve been in touch with them.” Courtney glanced over. “For what it’s worth, I keep money in my jewelry box, too. Also Mass cards, my passport, my birth certificate, anything important.”
Julia found herself trying to reconstruct the crime. “So did he come up looking for jewelry and found the money?”
“Yes, the cops think she interrupted him when she came home. He must have already been upstairs.”
“Then when she came home, they must have run into each other in the living room.”
“Yes, and the cops say he parked around the back, so she wouldn’t have seen him when she pulled up.” Courtney’s lower lip puckered when she picked up a pair of silver spoon earrings. “Aw, I gave her these. I got them at some street fair in Asheville.” Courtney’s expression collapsed into sorrowful lines, so Julia crossed the room and gave her a hug.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“I am, too.” Courtney sighed, setting down the earrings. “How much money could he have gotten? A hundred bucks for herlife?”
Julia’s heart hurt for Courtney, and her gaze fell on the ransacked jewelry box, a thicket of tangled chains. “Let’s check out the guest room.”
They crossed the hall to a second bedroom, which contained a daybed with a denim coverlet and a pine night table that held a ginger-jar lamp and vase of silk daises. Nothing was out of order. Courtney leaned on the doorjamb. “This is my room when I come to visit. I spent every summer here all the way through high school.”
“I remember. We wrote each other actual letters.”
Courtney smiled, bittersweet. “I used to love the summers here when I was little, playing out back or riding my bike around. Grandma Kay was fun. She had chickens back then. I used to clean the coop, which was gross.” She wrinkled her nose. “She loved her hens and her garden.”
“And daisies?” Julia asked, because of the daisy motif throughout the house.
“Yes, shelovedthem. She won prizes at the garden club out of York.She could’ve competed in Philadelphia, but she wasn’t interested.” Courtney sighed, brushing her hair back. “Let’s go check the kitchen.”
They went downstairs, bypassed the living room, and headed into a small galley kitchen with white cabinets and a Corian countertop on one side and on the other, a round table overlooking a window to the backyard. Botanical prints covered the walls, which were a pale green paper with a white trellis. The back door was in the middle of the kitchen, and Julia visualized the killer racing through it to the backyard, which was pitch-black now.
“Oh, look, she went food shopping the day she was killed.” Courtney peered into two reusable shopping bags that sat on the kitchen table. “It’s groceries to make potato salad and short ribs, my favorite.” Courtney hung her head, grief stricken. “She even got pineapple for the barbecue sauce. That was her secret ingredient.”
“I’m sorry, Court.” Julia felt for her, but was becoming increasingly preoccupied with the murder. “So I’m thinking she must’ve come into the kitchen from outside and saw the pickup out back. Or maybe she heard a sound from upstairs, or he was coming downstairs. Or she went to the stairway to see what was going on, and he must’ve backed her up into the living room. Either way, they fought, then he shot her and left with the gun.”
“Right.” Courtney sagged, still focused on the groceries. “She was such a wonderful cook, such a nurturing person. She gave the barbecue sauce recipe to my mother, but my mother could never make it as well. I think she secretly let my grandmother shine. My mother went to college and medical school thanks to my grandparents.”
Julia’s attention strayed to the window over the kitchen table. “Is there anything out back?”
“No, just the pasture.”
“Do you mind if I go look outside?” Julia heard herself ask.
“Why? You can’t see anything. It’s dark, and she didn’t have lights out there.”
“I’m just curious.” Julia eyed the window, without knowing why.
“Okay, let me get the flashlight. I know she has one around here.” Courtney crossed to a kitchen cabinet, but Julia went ahead, drawn to the back door. She stepped outside into the night, its blackness complete except for ambient light from the house. Clouds covered the moon and stars.
