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Burton Hills Boulevard, Nashville, 3:40 p.m.
Nora Duncan had no social media presence. Her home in Franklin had been sold. Thankfully, her obituary listed her surviving family members: an elderly mother, Norine; and a cousin—one Laney Pettit.
The obit confirmed the connection to Pettit, but not necessarily the kind of connection to which Marsh had alluded.
Since starting with Pettit would have triggered a warning to the mother, Finley opted to start with Norine Duncan. She wanted completely unprepared answers. The raw truth.
The mother was a resident of Blakedale. As it was an assisted-living facility rather than a nursing home, access to the patients wasn’t too complicated at Blakedale. Finley had provided her ID, and her name was checked to ensure she wasn’t on a no-access list; then she was given a visitor’s pass and directions to where Norine Duncan was. All the residents wore electronic bracelets that provided their positions on theproperty. Those same bracelets sounded an alarm if the resident stepped outside the “safe” zone of the property boundaries.
Sounded a little like house arrest to Finley, but she supposed the patients’ safety outweighed any unpleasant impressions.
Finley found Norine Duncan on a lovely wrought iron bench beneath a grouping of shade trees and flanked by brimming pots of blooming flowers. The landscaping for the place must have cost a fortune. Obviously, Ms.Duncan had sufficient resources.
“Ms.Duncan,” Finley said as she approached the bench.
Duncan looked up from her book and smiled. “You’ve found me.”
Finley extended her hand. “I’m Finley O’Sullivan.”
Duncan shook her hand. “Please join me, Ms.O’Sullivan.” She closed her book and shifted slightly on the bench. “Do I know you, dear?”
Finley sat, easing her bag down to the lush green lawn. “We haven’t met before, but I’m an investigator for the law firm representing Ellen Winthrop.”
“Oh my, what an awful, awful thing.” Duncan’s face clouded with hurt. “Poor, poor Ellen.” She sighed, then seemed to rally and asked, “How can I help?”
Now to the sticky part. “I’d like to ask about your daughter, Nora.”
The older woman’s face pinched. “My daughter? She passed away in April.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Finley assured her, “that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What does that have to do with Ellen or her husband’s murder?”
“Nothing, I’m sure,” Finley explained, “but it’s my job to learn about any issues involving anyone close to Ellen. It’s the nature of homicide investigations. You look at everything and everyone close to those involved. It’s not pleasant, but it’s necessary.”
Confusion and a hint of pain lined the older woman’s face, but she nodded. “All right. Anything to help Ellen.”
Finley smiled. “Thank you. I’m sure she’ll appreciate your support. First, can you tell me what happened to your daughter?”
Book held to her chest as if it could shield her from the pain of the discussion, Duncan nodded. “Nora had always been a bit of a wallflower. Some would have called her a shut-in, but that wasn’t true. She just preferred her own company or mine. When she wasn’t with me or puttering around the houses, she was with her sweet cousin Laney.”
“Laney?” Finley prompted.
“Laney Pettit. The two were inseparable their entire lives. My sister, God rest her soul, and I had our daughters on the same day within a couple of hours of each other. We raised those babies together, and they were like sisters.”
“I’m sure that made both of you very happy.”
“It really did,” she agreed. “My sister and I had our own troubles in the early years, but having our daughters changed all that. When our husbands passed in the same year, we still had each other and our girls. A true blessing.”
“I’m sure Laney still comes to see you.”
“Oh yes. After my sister died, Laney was the glue that held me together. She and Nora treated me like their third musketeer until I had my fall. After rehab, we all agreed that it was best if I moved here. They could visit all they wanted and still live their lives unencumbered—not their words, mine. I didn’t want to be a burden. Although I’m still capable of taking care of myself to a large degree, I didn’t want to wait until I wasn’t. It would have made the decision far more painful for all involved.”
“The choice was very thoughtful of you,” Finley agreed. “I know Nora’s death must have been a horrible shock to you.”
Her eyes glistening with emotion, she shook her head. “I still can’t believe she thought so little of herself that she allowed the loss of a man to render her incapable of going on.”
Definitely not the same story Marsh had given. “She had met someone?”
