She kept going past an old mailbox with reflective letters that readTHE PATTERSONS, then Julia pulled up in front of the white Victorian farmhouse, two narrow stories of clapboard with green trim and matching filigree, with a sharply peaked roof. A ceiling fixture on the porch illuminated two uniformed cops taking yellow crime-scene tape from the railing and Courtney sitting in a wide cedar rocker on the front porch.
Julia’s heart leapt at the sight of her best friend, looking so forlorn in a black parka over her sweater and jeans. The last time they’d seen each other was five years ago, and Julia felt so glad that she’d come.She parked behind Kay’s white Honda Accord with its Notre Dame bumper sticker, an interlocking ND that had to be for Courtney. Next to it sat a brown-and-yellow Buckley Police Department cruiser, a jarring note in a bucolic setting.
“Jules!” Courtney rose and hurried down the steps as Julia cut the ignition, got out of the car, and threw open her arms.
“Courtney, I’m so sorry, honey.”
“Thank you… for coming.” Courtney clung to her, shuddering with a new sob. “This is so… hard. I can’t believe… this happened.”
“I know.”
“She didn’t deserve this… she was so great.”
“I know, I know. I know how much you loved her.”
“She was such… a great person, she loved everybody… and they loved her.”
“I’m so sorry about this, Court.”
“Who would… kill her? Who? Why?”
“God knows, honey.”
“Thanks.” Courtney released Julia and wiped her eyes. Sorrow strained her expression, and she pushed a strand of hair into her ponytail, trying to recover. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch him. I wasrightthere.”
“Honey, you tried.”
“Not hard enough.” Courtney sniffled.
“Don’t say that. You had just found her. It was so awful.”
“Still, I’m so mad at myself.” Courtney looked over as the cops approached, then cleared her throat, gesturing to them.
“Julia, meet Officers Harbor and Quinton. Gentlemen, this is Julia Pritzker, the friend I told you about.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Julia shook their hands. Officer Harbor had a mustache and Officer Quinton a cleft chin, but she couldn’t make out their other features under the black patent bills of their caps. They wore black insulated jackets with nameplates, badges, and a heavy utility belt holding holstered Glocks, collapsible batons, and tall radios with stiff rubber antennae.
Officer Harbor turned to Courtney. “Ms. Horan, I know a guy who can remove the carpet in the living room. I left his card on the kitchen table. If I were you, I’d call him tonight. You don’t want to see it the way it is.”
Courtney nodded, sniffling. “Thanks, but I saw it when I found her.”
“Yeah, but you don’t want to sit with it. We should be going now. We’re releasing the house. Again, sorry about your grandmother.”
“Thank you, for everything.”
Officer Harbor took a step back, starting to leave. “Good night now.”
“Good night.” Officer Quinton followed him, and Julia and Courtney bade them goodbye and watched as the cops piled into the cruiser and drove off, their red taillights burning through the night.
“Oh, man.” Courtney sighed, rubbing her face, then lowered herself to the porch step. “Can we sit down a minute?”
“Sure.” Julia sat next to her, putting an arm around her.
“I’m still mad at myself. If I hadn’t tripped, I would havehadhim.” Courtney shook her head. “I could’ve caught him.”
“Let’s hope the cops do.” Julia gave her a sideways squeeze. “Do they have any idea who the guy is?”
“No, I met with a Detective Kowalski and looked throughmugshots, but I couldn’t identify him. I never saw his face, and I only have the basic description that I told you.” Courtney kept shaking her head. “I didn’t get the license plate on the pickup because of the brushwood. She used to have the back pasture hayed by a local farmer, but he moved away years ago and it’s scrub now. I told Kowalski to check the tire tracks because it’s not easy to drive through, and he said he’d follow up.”