Laura stared at her tomato plant. She set the pruning shears on the grass. She didn’t care about side shoots at the moment.
Hayden was gone. So maybe she hadn’t loved him like she’d pledged to, years earlier. But she missed seeing his pompous face in the news. She missed knowing she might run into him at some function, where they’d smile and be polite and yes, it would be awkward. But it was the good kind of awkward, pregnant with shared memories.
Her children were gone. Back to the lives they’d created away from her. They were both thriving, which Laura felt good about. But it would be better if they were happy to see her, even for five minutes a year.
Susannah was gone. She hadn’t taken all her things yet, but she’d made it clear in the morning that she’d meant what she said about leaving. The tiny cottage felt cavernous without her there.
Laura sipped the coffee she’d brought with her into the garden. It was rich and dark. She’d used the espresso machine instead of the family-sized brewing pot.
She eyed the garden hose, coiled like a sleeping snake at the side of the house. She could water, but the ground was still moist from Wednesday’s downpour.
So what should she do with the rest of her day? She picked up the phone handset and called Penny.
“Penny Craig.” Even on a Saturday, the clipped business voice was on duty.
Laura said, “Is it too late to change my mind about playing detective?”
“Laura!” Penny’s voice held something unusual. Was it warmth? “You sound like you’re two inches tall.”
“That’s about how high I feel. Susie left.” Should she be saying this? Penny’s gossip columnist could have a field day. “I need a project, and pretending we can find out who killed Hayden seems as good as any.”
Penny laughed. “I hope we won’t be pretending.”
“If you want to come over, I have another card I can show you.”
“What a perfect start to the weekend. I have plans for today. But this evening works. Are you still in that quaint little cottage on Amelia Street?”
“I am.” She’d never given Penny her address, though.
“On second thought, why don’t we meet in my office around five? We can start by poking through archived articles.”
“What for?”
“Connect the victims. We have a much more sophisticated archive system in-house than if we were at your place typing things into Google.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before,” Laura said.
“I began my career as an investigative journalist.”
“So why haven’t you started without me? I’m surprised you don’t have reporters on this already.”
“Oh sure, I have two top political reporters making this their pet project. And one on the police beat. But so far they’ve uncovered nothing.”
Laura was confused. “Why do you think we might?”
“We might not. This is a lark for me, Laura. We may find gold—in which case, I get a great story and you get closure on Hayden—and we may just be two old friends playing Nancy Drew. Know what I mean?”
No, Laura didn’t know. But she didn’t see Penny as the type to do anything for fun.
“Will I see you at five, then?”
Laura sighed. “Sure. See you at five.”
She picked her shears back up. She had six hours to fill, and these tomatoes weren’t going to prune themselves.