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“Uh-huh,” said Mrs. Samson, then placed a kindly hand on Marge’s cheek. “It’s so sweet of you to defend your mother like that. I just wish my son would come to my defense more often.” She retracted the hand, then said, chipper, “Tell Vesta that I’m on her side. Us women have to stick together, like just like those women inFat Big Lies do.”

And she pottered off in the direction of the romance section, to load up on a fresh collection of bodice rippers.

Marge watched her totter off with a shake of the head. If the whole town was thinking what Mrs. Samson was thinking, they were about to face some difficult times.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Odelia arrived at the apartment complex on Grover Street and parked her car across the road. It was a nice new building, in beige brick, and it looked really modern, the way only new apartment blocks can look. There were six apartments, with balconies both front and back, one of which was Rita Baker’s. She stepped up to the front door and entered, already practicing her opening statement. She searched the name on the bell.

“Yes?” a melodious voice called out.

“Hi, my name is Odelia Poole. You probably remember me. I bought your house.”

“Oh, of course! Come in, Odelia.” And immediately the buzzer buzzed and Odelia hurried to push open the door.

Moments later she was mounting the stairs and when she arrived on the second-floor landing, Rita was already there, greeting her with a smile and open arms.

She looked exactly like Odelia remembered: a lady in her seventies, with a lot of soft white curls, and a kindly pink face. She looked a little older, her face a little more lined, but otherwise still the same kindhearted woman. Odelia had bought the house directly from Rita, without the intervention of a broker, which Rita had said she despised for the exorbitant commissions they extracted, and the way they kept raising the price and scaring off potential buyers. Rita had wanted to sell quick, and she didn’t mind knocking off a big chunk of the price when Odelia and her parents had expressed an interest.

“Hey, honey,” said Rita now. “How have you been? And how are your folks?”

“Great,” said Odelia as she stepped inside. “Mom and Dad, too,” she added as she removed her shoes at Rita’s instigation and accepted the slippers she handed her.

“I’m sorry about that,” said Rita. “I run a clean house, so I keep annoying people by making them take off their shoes.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” said Odelia. “I walk around in slippers at home, too. It’s a lot easier to clean, isn’t it?”

“It’s because I have so many carpets,” Rita said, indicating a nice Persian rug in her living room. “And hardwood floors. If it were tile, like I had in Harrington Street, I wouldn’t mind so much. Tile is so easy to clean. These floors and carpets, though.”

The house looked squeaky clean, Odelia had to admit. In fact it looked a lot cleaner than her own place, but then she was a busy bee, and so was Chase, and with four cats it was hard to keep up. Or at least that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

“So what can I do for you?” asked Rita as she took a seat in the living room salon, where several couches were lined up around a big-screen television. Flowers were everywhere, and plants, and it was obvious Rita missed having her own backyard. She’d been an avid gardener back in the day, andhad intimated it was the only thing about having a house that she would miss when she moved into the apartment.

“This is a little delicate, Rita,” said Odelia. “And maybe you shouldn’t hear this from me, but…”

Rita frowned.“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“My mom has issues with her plumbing,” said Odelia, deciding to take this from the top.

“Oh, well, I’m not sure I can help you with that. Back when we lived there, there were always issues with the plumbing. Old house, you know. What can you do?”

“I know. So she had Gwayn Partington come over, and he knocked out a piece of wall in the basement, looking for the connection to the water main.”

“Okay,” said Rita, not flinching or indicating she knew where this was going.

Odelia took a deep breath and plunged in.“He found a skeleton stuck in the wall. A skeleton that must have been there for several decades.”

Rita’s eyes went wide and she brought a hand to her face. “Oh, no,” she said.

“I think it’s your father, Rita. In fact, I’m almost positive that it is.”

“Dad,” said Rita in a hoarse whisper. “Oh, God.”

“Yeah. So I expect my uncle to pay you a visit as soon as they’ve made a positive ID, but I figured I owe it to you to give the news personally, as we have a connection and I…”

Rita nodded, speechless, her eyes brimming with tears.“Thanks,” she said.

“Do you have any idea how he could have ended up down there?” she asked.