She Wore Mourning by P.D. Workman (best desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

were no footprints from a third party. No one who shouldn’t have been there.”

“No.” Spencer shook his head. “He just wandered off, Mr.—Zachary. Maybe somebody had been in the yard and left the gate open. Somebody looking for bottles or something worth stealing. Or the woman who talked to him that day, to get back at us for being such rotten parents, in her eyes. Or maybe it didn’t latch securely when I took the garbage out because the wind caught it and kept it open. But he just wandered out. He wandered out, and he drowned, just like a hundred other kids.”

“Is that what you hope happened?”

“Yes. I’d rather not think there was someone out there who took him to hurt us. Or intending to hurt him. The police didn’t think there was anyone else involved. I just want to let him rest.”

Zachary thought about Isabella’s jewelry, all the parts of Declan that she wore on her body and her skin. She hadn’t been able to lay her child to rest. Zachary couldn’t think of anything less restful than dangling in Isabella’s constantly moving layers of jewelry.

“Okay.” Zachary nodded. “Thank you for your time. I’ll let you know if I have any other questions. Feel free to call me if anything occurs to you.”

“I’d rather you called before showing up here.”

Zachary didn’t apologize for the surprise visit. Sometimes, it was helpful to catch people off-balance. He stood.

“And, Zachary…”

He raised an eyebrow at Spencer and waited.

“I do worry about my wife. Quite a bit. I’m hopeful that having the Raymonds back in town will have a positive effect… distract her from her grief and give her someone to talk to. Because…” His lips pressed together. “I don’t know how much longer she can go on like this.”

Chapter Seven

Zachary recognized the phone number that popped up on his call display and smiled.

“Hi, Kenzie.”

“Hey, just thought I’d call and check in on my new PI buddy.”

“I’m glad you called. I wouldn’t mind having someone to discuss this case with…”

Zachary didn’t need someone to talk it over with, but it was the first thing that came to mind. And he wasn’t lying; he wouldn’t mind discussing it with her.

“Oh, yeah?” Kenzie asked brightly. “How about I treat you to a sandwich at It’s a Wrap. I love their artisan breads.”

He hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them too, but it was Bridget’s favorite sandwich shop, and he didn’t want to risk running into any of her friends there. What were the odds that any of them would approach him? They would all be on her side and wouldn’t have anything to say to him.

“Yeah, sure. That sounds great,” he agreed. “We could get a booth for a little privacy…”

“Perfect. We should probably hit it early, before the lunch crowd. Do you mind meeting at eleven?”

“Works for me. You’re not working today?”

“No, I have a doctor’s appointment today and just took the full day off. I’m free until two-thirty.”

“Doctor’s appointment? Anything wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing. I’ll see you there? At eleven?”

“I’ll be there.”

Zachary hung up his phone and decided he’d better shower and shave to make himself presentable. No point in showing up looking like some homeless guy. The look might help him blend in with a crowd while on a job since people didn’t want to look at the less fortunate, but it wouldn’t work for a date.

He again made sure he was at the restaurant before Kenzie, cornering a booth for them. She wasn’t far behind him. They gave the server their orders and exchanged some pleasantries.

“Did you really have some questions about the case?” Kenzie asked, raising one brow mischievously.

“Well… not so much that I had questions, I just thought it would be nice to talk through some of the details.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“You said that one of the signs of drowning is bruising. From holding the victim down.”

“Right.”

“The boy did have bruises.”

She shook her head. “Not that were typical of drowning. Did you bring it with you?”

Zachary dug the report out of his bag and slid it across to her. She turned quickly to the appropriate page. “Shins and knees, elbows. All typical of little boys—and girls—in their regular play. He had several bruises, and they were different ages. Fell down one day. Walked into a coffee table another. Skinned elbows on a trampoline a couple of days later. All kids have those kinds of bruises. If he had been drowned, we would expect to see bruises on his neck or back. Those are the kind of bruises a drowning victim gets.”

“Ah.” Zachary nodded. He hadn’t been too concerned about the bruises. He had thought that they looked pretty innocuous, but he wouldn’t know without asking. There could have been something atypical there that he simply hadn’t been able to see.

“Now what about the nail scrapings?” he asked. “We didn’t get time to talk about those before. Why did they do nail scrapings? Are they looking for DNA? Seeing if he tried to fight back against an attacker?”

“Sure. That’s part of it. Skin under the nails is always a big red flag. Sometimes you can find other evidence as well. It’s like a mini archeological dig.” She flipped through the pages and worked her way down the list of what they found under Declan’s nails. “The victim had soil under his nails, consistent with what was in his yard, not around the pond. He had no foreign DNA under his nails, so, no, he didn’t fight off an attacker. He had a mixture of oil and mineral pigments… oh!” She laughed. “Paint, of course. An oil-based paint. Mostly green.”

“Paint.” Zachary mulled it over, wondering if it was significant. “I guess as the child of a painter, that shouldn’t come as any great shock. He must have been around his mother’s work. Probably instructed by her and encouraged to produce his own paintings as well.”

“I would think so.”

Kenzie continued to flip aimlessly through the medical examiner’s report, looking for