Death by Drywall by Barbara Barrett

Author:Barbara Barrett
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948532440
Publisher: Barbara Barrett

CHAPTER 16

We returned to Herc’s car after saying our thanks to Kelly Powell and the kids. Did the woman realize how sharp her two little ones were? Imagine what they’d be like when they entered school. Formidable.

“It’s going on five fifteen. Should we finish up with the other side of the street yet today or come back tomorrow?” I asked Herc.

“We’re on a roll, especially after that last house,” Herc replied. “Let’s see if our luck continues.”

A woman answered the door of the house directly across the street from the Taylor house. “I was here when the EMTs arrived,” she told us, like she’d won the lottery. “Those folks don’t spare any time talking to onlookers, either going in or coming out. I should give myself an A for trying. It was the body bag that gave away the status of the victim.”

“Are you saying you were out here when they arrived?” Herc asked.

The woman, who’d introduced herself as Fern Wilson before we asked, returned a sheepish look. “I heard the address on my police scanner, and once I got over the shock that their destination was right across the street from me, I rushed out to see what I could see. I’m home all day most days. Retired. I didn’t plan very well for this time in my life because I’m frequently at a loss how to keep myself occupied. I listen to the scanner to get my mind on something.”

“Did you know anything was amiss at that house before then?” I asked.

“Not that day. A couple times before that there were so many tradespeople working at the same time, their vehicles blocked my driveway. Not entirely, but enough that I couldn’t get my car in or out of my garage. I had no choice but to go over there and ask them to move. The first time there was a logo on the van, so I knew who to ask for. The guy, I think he was one of the carpenters, apologized profusely and moved it immediately. Told me he thought no one was living in my house since he’d never seen anyone there.”

“What about the second time?” I asked.

“That time it was the plumber, the woman. That must have been the day of the murder. I’d gone out that time. She’d parked her van just a couple feet across the drive, but there was no way I could get around her. She seemed preoccupied when I found her. I had to tell her a couple of times that she needed to move her van. But once I got through, she, too, apologized. If she moved the vehicle down the street, it must have been quite a ways down, because I didn’t see it later when I went outside to make sure my drive was still unblocked.”

“About my earlier question,” I said. “Either time, did you find anything amiss?”

“Oh, sorry. Nothing that suggested a murder was about to happen. There was just so much going on during that

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