Snowed Under, page 5
Tess filled me in on what was bugging her. “Elisabeth said something to Quinn along the lines of ‘follow the money,’” she said. “Last spring, when I suggested we resolve the drainage problem and redesign the mailbox structure, the Zimmers, the Baileys, and Elisabeth all agreed the work needed to be done, but they didn’t want to spend the money. Yet, in December, after the structure collapsed, they wanted it rebuilt as quickly as possible, without even addressing the drainage issues.”
“Okay,” I said, to let Tess know I was paying attention. And I was following along, mostly, though I didn’t yet understand where she was going with this line of argument. Drainage improvements were needed, but the money wasn’t there, so the homeowners’ association put it off. The delay later created an emergency situation that needed to be resolved quickly. To me, it sounded like a scenario that was being played out in communities across the country.
Tess pulled a flashlight from her pocket and turned it on. There were no streetlights. The temperature had dropped and our boots squeaked on the refrozen snow. “They said the budget wouldn’t stretch to more than a basic rebuild.”
I nodded, forgetting that Tess couldn’t see me in the dark. I slipped on a slick patch of ice and grabbed Tess’s arm. There was a knack to walking in a winter climate that I’d never quite mastered.
Tess didn’t miss a step. “But the structure that’s down there is three times the size of the old one. The roof is bigger, the beams are heavier, and it’s got expensive reflective paint and blindingly bright LED solar-powered motion-sensor lights.”
“So you think they were sandbagging when they claimed the budget was an issue?” I wondered why I hadn’t seen the lights when we first parked the car in the turnaround and why they weren’t on now. Even during an outage, solar lights should come on. But I’d already demonstrated I knew nothing about living in the snowy mountains. My shoes were wrong and I could barely walk without taking a tumble. So I didn’t ask.
“Don’t you? If they had extra money to spend, why not address the more serious issue of drainage? And if the association was broke, why build such an elaborate structure? It makes no sense.”
“What are you saying?”
Tess threw up her hands. “Isn’t it obvious? Someone on the homeowners’ association board must have had some reason they didn’t want to disturb the ground down there by digging a drainage trench. A reason that had nothing to do with time or money.”
“You think they’re hiding something?”
“Don’t you?”
“Like what? Someone stashed Dev’s body in a trench and just pulled it out now? Who? And why? They could have dumped the body in the woods and left it to the animals. You’re making it too complicated. Every community has people who create roadblocks to change. Replacing an existing structure is always easier to accomplish than something as boring as drainage. It’s like plumbing. No one wants to think about it.”
Tess stopped in the road in front of Elisabeth’s house. “We should have brought cookies or soup or something,” she said.
I was having a little trouble keeping up with the roller coaster that was Tess’s brain this evening. First, she’d suggested her neighbors formed a murderous conspiracy to kill and bury Dev. Then, they were supposed to have avoided digging a trench that might reveal where they stashed the body. Next, with hardly a breath in between the statements, they’re the sort of people who might be miffed if we dropped in without bringing cookies.
“It’s not okay to pop by and check on her? Maybe say we’re going to the store if she needs anything?”
Tess looked skeptical about this apparent breach of the neighborhood’s unwritten visiting code, but she continued up the walkway and knocked gently on the door. I wasn’t sure it was loud enough for Elisabeth to hear, but Duke announced our arrival with shrill barks. How one tiny dog could make so much noise was beyond me.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Elisabeth said as she invited us inside. “I was going to call. It seems extra dark and lonely out there tonight.”
Tess’s efforts to be more adult and neighborly toward Elisabeth had elicited a similar response from the other woman. All traces of Elisabeth’s earlier scolding and judgmental behavior seemed to have vanished.
“Have you noticed the lights are out over the mailboxes?” I asked.
Elisabeth frowned and shook her head. “Vandals. Ryan Stillwell fixes the wires whenever he notices. Sometimes they appear to have been cut by a human pest, other times it looks like some rodent chewed the wires. Either way, we haven’t been able to stop it.”
“How’s Leslie?” Though I wondered who Ryan was and how he was connected to Elisabeth and the rest of the community, I was more worried about the newly bereaved wife and mother.
“I haven’t seen her. The police have come and gone. I phoned Leslie earlier. Her sister-in-law Amrita picked the kids up from school. I should bring them something, but I’ll wait until tomorrow after the sun softens up the ice and their driveway isn’t quite so treacherous. Breaking my hip wouldn’t be helpful to anyone.”
“Amrita, Dev’s much younger sister, lives with the Baileys and acts as a sort-of nanny to the two kids,” Tess whispered the details to me as Elisabeth ushered us into her front room and invited us to sit on her cheerful red sofa.
“Can I get you something?” she asked.
“We’ll only be a minute,” Tess said. “Unless there’s something you need?”
“I stocked up before the storm.”
Elisabeth sat in what must have been her favorite chair. It was the same place we’d left her earlier in the day. Duke jumped onto her lap and was finally quiet.
Tess leaned forward. “I wanted to ask you something…”
Her voice trailed off and Elisabeth filled the silence. “About Dev? The police already—”
“No, no. That’s between you and Quinn. I wanted to ask about the mailboxes. The structure went up quickly.”
“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” Elisabeth sat up straight and proud. “I managed the project. Left to the others it would have dragged on until spring.”
“Winter projects are so hard. I know you all wanted to wrap it up in a hurry. It makes sense that you didn’t want to do anything as invasive as trenching and laying drains, I guess, even though it would have been less expensive to take care of all aspects of the project in one fell swoop.” Tess took a breath and cleared her throat. “But weren’t you concerned about the budget? Did you get a special deal? The rebuild looks like it’s way beyond the scope of the original project.”
“We wanted something that would withstand the next storm, and we couldn’t trench with the ground frozen—not without paying through the nose,” said Elisabeth, bristling.
“What about the lights?” Tess pressed for more information. “Did one of the neighbors donate the money for that? There were no lights on the old structure. Did you need to get a special permit to expand the project? Everyone said that extra permits for the drains would delay the project.”
Elisabeth’s cheeks flushed. She picked at a stray thread on the arm of her chair.
“Elisabeth?” Tess asked.
“You know how it is. It happens with every building project. They expand.”
“Yes, but last summer you were adamant about containing costs.”
Elisabeth smoothed the fabric of the chair arm. “What are you suggesting?” she asked, without looking up.
“Nothing.” Tess waited.
“The builders had rebuilt several similar structures. We went with the design they said worked best.”
“And that included the lights?”
Elisabeth nodded. “The initial investment was more than we’d planned, but the safety aspect made it worth it. And since they’re solar powered, the energy costs won’t break the bank going forward.”
Elisabeth’s explanation made sense to me. Tess must have felt the same way. She leaned back in her chair, shifting gears. “Your house has a great view of the area where we found Dev,” Tess said. “What do you think happened to him?”
Elisabeth froze. Her flushed face drained of color and her eyes widened.
Tess prompted. “Did you tell Quinn what you thought?”
Elisabeth shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, and shut it before saying anything. She pressed her lips tightly together. Duke whined and then growled at Tess.
“Shhh,” Elisabeth said, stroking Duke until he calmed down.
“Would you like me to leave?” I asked, thinking she was reticent to share her suppositions with a stranger.
Elisabeth turned toward me as though she’d forgotten I was there. “No,” she said. “You’re fine. I’m not sure I want to tell anyone. It’s terrible.”
I held my breath.
Elisabeth covered her face with her hands. “It’s just that…” A small cry escaped before she continued. “I think I killed him. Dev’s dead because of me.”
Tess rushed to Elisabeth’s side, sat on the ottoman in front of her chair, and took her hand, stroking her arm softly. “Tell me what happened.”
“Dev and I don’t get along, dear. You know that. It’s because of their dog, Winston. He’s vicious.”
I listened quietly, not wanting to interrupt Elisabeth’s confession, but I remembered Tess saying that Winston was an old softie and a beloved friend of Mozart.
“I’d heard the rumors,” Elisabeth said, breathing heavily every few words as though it was difficult to force the words out. “The neighbors were all saying that I’d stolen some visitor’s airsoft gun—you know what I mean? One of those plastic BB-guns that look like real weapons.” She shuddered. I shared her apprehension. I’d had some bad experiences with toys that resembled assault rifles.
“It wasn’t true,” Elisabeth said. “I’d never steal from a child or anyone else. But after I heard the neighbors talking, I bought a used one from that sporting goods store in Truckee. I bought it on a whim, when I was passing by a window display. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I wasn’t planning to fire it. Certainly not at one of the neighbor kids.”
I couldn’t guess where Elisabeth was going with her story. Had she shot at Dev and believed one of the little plastic BBs had killed him? Surely not. I knew the blasts could hurt and probably maim someone who took a pellet in the eye. But as far as I’d heard, the weapons were only deadly when terrified cops mistook them for real guns.
“Did you shoot him?” Tess asked.
Elisabeth shook her head so emphatically that Duke jumped off her lap and disappeared into the kitchen. “Not on purpose. But Dev had let Winston off his leash, even after I’d told him over and over about the rules. That dog was barking and jumping up and snapping at poor Duke.” Telling the story had brought back some of Elisabeth’s outrage. Her words were sharp and crisp. But then she paused, took a deep breath, and looked chagrined. “I pointed the gun at Winston though. I could tell by Dev’s face that he thought the gun was real and that I was going to shoot his dog.” She blushed. “As if I’d do something like that. To an animal. Even a brute like Winston.”
“What happened then?” Tess prompted.
“The gun went off by itself. I was holding onto Duke and he was squirming. I must have pulled the trigger by mistake. It was an accident.”
Elisabeth stopped to catch her breath. She pulled her hand out of Tess’s grasp and clutched her elbows. She whispered the rest of the story. “It was super slick underfoot. When he pushed Winston out of the way, Dev overbalanced and went down hard on the ice.” She shook her head. “At the time, I was so angry over Dev’s willful flouting of the rules, Winston’s harassment of Duke, and Dev’s assumption that I would shoot someone’s pet…” Her voice broke and a small sob escaped. She looked at the floor. “I didn’t—I didn’t stay to see if he was okay. What if he got knocked out and froze to death? It snowed hard that night. More than a foot. Much more. What if he had one of those brain injuries that seems okay at first but then kills? What if the drifts covered Dev and someone ran over him?” Her words became faster and more shrill as she confronted the possibilities. She looked up at Tess and started to cry. Ugly half-gasping tears that left her face blotchy.
“Oh, Elisabeth,” Tess said. She looked at me and then back at Elisabeth. The poor woman had carried her burden of guilt for months. “Let’s think about this logically. If Dev hadn’t been able to get up, he’d have called someone to help him. Winston ran home alone that night. Even if Dev had hit his head hard enough to knock himself out, surely Amrita and Leslie would have looked for him in all the obvious places.”
Elisabeth cried louder. “It gets worse. That was the night it was so windy. The night the mailbox structure blew down. But…it didn’t blow down. It had help. I’d driven to pick up the mail that night. With the wind howling at blizzard speeds, I didn’t want to walk. I was expecting a check and I didn’t want to leave it in the box overnight. Everything would have been fine if I’d left Duke at home, but he does so love to go for rides in the car.”
Tess took Elisabeth’s hand again, and leaned forward both to hear her soft words better and to encourage her. “When was this? I thought the mailbox structure blew down after Thanksgiving.”
Elisabeth shook her head. “No dear, it was between Christmas and New Year. The same night that Dev went missing, I’m sure of it.” She took a deep breath and plowed on. “Duke wanted to defend me from Winston. He’s such a little gentleman.” Elisabeth smiled at the thought and looked up at Tess and I, and then toward the kitchen. “I grabbed him again when he was about to launch himself out of the car.”
I struggled to visualize what had happened. “So that was after the gun went off and Dev fell?” I asked.
“Yes, I told you.” Elisabeth sounded frustrated even though she’d left out a few of the key details we needed to understand how the events had played out and why she was so concerned. “Dev and Winston and Duke and I were all at the mailboxes together. Then we tangled, the gun went off, and Dev went down.” She paused, then continued. “Like I said, my temper exploded, and I stomped back to the car in a huff. Dev was on the ground and Winston had escaped. I rolled up the window, put the car in gear and sped off without sparing a thought for whether I was endangering my neighbor or his devil dog.”
Elisabeth stopped for a moment.
“Should we take a break?” I asked.
“I need to get this out,” said Elisabeth. She took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. “I heard a big thump, like I’d clipped one of the supports on the mail structure…or hit something else, like Dev or Winston.” Her cries began again in earnest and Tess turned to look helplessly at me.
“I’ll get some water,” I said, hoping my pal would consider it helpful.
Chapter 7
Be like a tree and let the dead leaves drop.
―Jalalud’in Rumi, Persian poet and Sufi cleric. 1207-1273
Thursday, February 18, Evening
When I returned and handed her the glass, Elisabeth took a few long slow gulps.
“This has been eating at you,” Tess said. “You’re worried that you contributed to Dev’s death. But we don’t even know whether he died the night he went missing, or weeks later. The postmortem will tell us more. Were there any marks on your car?”
“I was afraid to look. I took the car to the Easy Wash in town the next day. I’ve got a few dings in my bumper, but I don’t know when they got there. It’s ten years old. It’s indestructible, but that’s the thing.” Elisabeth took another sip of water and swallowed hard. “What if I damaged one of the support posts and it came down on Dev while he was lying there—”
“They would have found him under the fallen beams in the morning when they cleaned up the wreckage,” Tess said.
Elisabeth looked up with a hopeful expression. “They would have. Oh Tess, I’m so glad I told you. I’ve been feeling so guilty. I couldn’t eat or sleep for worrying.”
“And if you’d hurt Dev with your car and he wasn’t under the beams, they still would have found him that night. I’m sure Leslie would have checked on him. You probably weren’t the only neighbor to pick up your mail that night, either.”
“Did you glance out the window later?” I asked. “Call to check on him?”
“I did both,” Elisabeth said. “I couldn’t see much through the falling snow and no one answered at the Baileys’ house.”
“Dev’s family was probably out looking for him,” I said. “And if he’d still been there in front of the mailboxes, they would have found him. You have nothing to worry about.”
Elisabeth wiped her eyes and started to speak, but Tess interrupted. “You still need to tell Quinn what happened. While you weren’t responsible for his death, your story about what happened the night he disappeared might fill in the official timeline or explain odd things in the postmortem, like a bump on the head or whatever,” she said with a heavy sigh. “We’re still left with one big problem.”
I held my breath waiting for Tess to finish her thought. After an excruciating pause, she did. “We still don’t know who or what killed Dev or when it happened. Did he disappear that night but die later? Or did he die that night and someone hid the body for weeks? How long had he been stashed in the drift before Maggie found him? Where was Dev, alive or dead, after you spoke to him at the mailboxes that night?”
I gasped. Even though Tess’s statement was accurate, even though I knew that I was the person to discover Dev’s body, I’d told myself that Tess and I found him together—with help from the dogs. I wasn’t sure why, but it sounded so much worse to say that I, and I alone, had uncovered a body.
* * * *
We stayed a few more minutes until Elisabeth seemed calmer. When we stepped outside, the wind was up, sending gritty granules of refrozen snow skittering along the drifts and into the air. I covered my face with my mittens in an effort to protect it from what felt like tiny darts.
