Page 24 of Not a Word

“Do you know who this is?”

She shook her head. “No idea. That Leah’s?”

McCabe managed a nod. “She ever mention someone named Tom?”

“No,” Elaine said, her tone indicating the conversation was coming to an end. As McCabe returned the album to her purse, Elaine added, “What’s actually going on here?”

McCabe sighed. You could only hold things back for so long. “Ms. Kennard died this morning.”

Elaine’s jaw dropped. “Oh god no.” She said it loud enough that her daughter raised her head, looked their way, eyes wide.

“Sorry.”

She glanced back, saw that her daughter was still engaged with her crayons, and stepped outside, leaving the door open a crack.

“What happened? Did she have a car accident?”

“It’s a homicide.”

Elaine put a hand to her mouth. “Someone murdered her?”

McCabe sidestepped the question. “We’re trying to learn all we can, and we want to get in touch with next of kin. Do you know whether her parents are still living?”

Elaine needed a moment. “She never mentioned parents.” She shook her head slowly, then stopped, a thought occurring to her. “Was it the guy she kicked out? Did he kill her? It wouldn’t surprise me for a minute.”

“What was his name?”

“Roy. No, that’s not it. His name was Ray.”

“You remember a last name?”

She bit her lip, struggling. “He lived there long enough that he was getting mail, and sometimes they deliver to the wrong house, so I’d get his stuff and walk it over, put it in their mailbox. Stanhope. Ray Stanhope.”

McCabe had her notebook out, asked how to spell that last name, wrote it down. “And he moved out when, again?”

“Around the time . . . that the old guy started showing up. They had fights about it, her and Ray. I could hear them going at it through the wall. These places are supposed to be soundproof, but you make enough noise, your neighbors are gonna hear it. Especially when someone screams.”

“And you heard Leah scream?”

“Ray hit her, at least once. One time, Leah was wearing sunglasses when we had a week of rain. So he must have popped her in the eye.”

“Were the fights about this other man she was seeing?”

“You couldn’t always hear the actual words, just the noise, you know? Maybe the odd snippet. This other guy was married and Ray was saying she wanted him for his money. Leah threatened to call the cops on him, but I don’t think she ever did. You’re the first one I’ve seen around here.”

Something else occurred to her. “I remember one day, the new guy shows up in his fancy car, and Ray is coming out the front door, and they start to get into it. Ray’s in the guy’s face, pointing a finger at him, the older guy’s looking pretty freaked out, starts backing up, but then Leah comes out and starts screaming at Ray to leave or she really will call the cops this time. So he heads off but he’s telling them to fuck off and giving them the finger. He was kind of scary, Ray was.”

“Has he been around lately?”

Elaine shook her head. “If he has, I haven’t seen him.”

“You know where he lives now? Works?”

“I don’t know where he lives. But he was always driving Toyotas. Not the same one every time. I think he might work at the dealer and that’s how Leah met him. Went in there for service.”

Ray Stanhope was worth talking to, McCabe thought. He might provide some insights into what was going on between Leah Kennard and Brent Chartwell.

Elaine, clearly having made up her mind about Stanhope, said, “I hope he fucking rots in hell.”