The Season of Killing: Cozy Mystery by Leigh Mayberry

Author:Leigh Mayberry [Mayberry, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

That Monday morning was a little awkward at public works because the rest of the city employees showed up, wedging Meghan’s crew out while city workers had a business to run.

The house was dark and quiet at seven in the morning. There was a fine line of etiquette when dealing with investigations, Meghan learned. People didn’t like answering the door first thing in the morning. While work continued in Noorvik, no such thing as ‘snow days’ in a village where most people walked, rode snowmobiles, or all-terrain vehicles. The school stayed open, even employees at the store worked to shovel the three-foot drifts that blocked the front doors.

“What do you want?” he asked. The young man wore boxer shorts and a t-shirt answering the front door. He dressed as if it was another sunny day instead of miserable winter and darkness.

“Good morning,” Meghan said with a smile. She didn’t wait to ask to enter the house; instead, she strode up the steps and walked inside. Lester followed her. “We’re here to talk to everyone, so this can either happen here and now, or we’ll have the troopers come help organize the interviews.”

“What do you want?” The speaker lay on the couch with another person. Both covered in a blanket.

The house smelled of cigarettes, marijuana, and a campfire. Exposed to the house fire, everyone who watched Hilma’s house burnt to the ground carried the scent with them.

“We’ll start with names,” Meghan said. She pulled off the ski cap, jammed it in her pocket. Meghan removed her smartphone and started taking pictures of the five faces looking at her from the living room.

She stood beside Lester at the door. Their snow-covered boots melted into the floor mat on the linoleum section that separated the rest of the carpeting.

“You, name?” she said. The young man shivered. They left open the door — a cold current of air-filled the living room.

“Um, Jack Boyd,” he said.

So began the interviews, photographs, and collection of relevant and not so relevant information. As Meghan and Lester interacted with each of the people inside the house, slowly, she saw a trend.

She counted sixteen people altogether. They talked to her and Lester in an open forum. Instead of separating them individually, she addressed the big concern as a group. Meghan felt since they traveled together, they ate together, slept in groups, sharing living expenses and their lives, they knew each other’s secrets.

It pleased Meghan that the group didn’t have anyone under the age of eighteen. That meant she didn’t have to address parents or guardians to have conversations. It helped they dealt with young people who weren’t hungover because of alcohol. Recreational marijuana, in Meghan’s opinion, created an atmosphere of accidental metaphysical tête-à-tête. In her professional law enforcement experience, drunks became combative, defensive, and belligerent. Marijuana users wanted to talk about life events. Meghan had a houseful of talkative and non-combative witnesses.

They had volumes of data, a collection of pictures, and a few suspects after two and a half hours of conversations.

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