out of here. “Murder investigations can be intrusive things.”
“Yes. Now, I did want to talk to you about Bertrand.”
“I’m sorry, but that would be improper. All conversations about the subject can only take place with both litigants present.”
She smiles without humor. “Well, then it’s unfortunate you didn’t get here fifteen minutes earlier. The other ‘litigant’ was just here. I’m surprised you didn’t hear him yelling at me from your car.”
She’s obviously talking about her stepson Steven, and I sense she wants to engage me in a conversation about him. But I’m getting more than a little tired of this; I feel like I’m trapped in an episode of Dallas. “It’s been great chatting with you, but it’s time for me and my client to leave.”
Diana looks toward the door, where Martha has silently reappeared with one of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen. It’s a Bernese mountain dog puppy, a smile on his face and his tail wagging so hard that it shakes his entire body along with it. There was clearly more than one reason to name him Waggy.
I walk over and kneel on the floor next to him and start to pet him. He seems about to burst with excitement; his energy level is overwhelming. Finally I get up and take his leash. “Let’s go, buddy. But you might want to calm down a little before you meet Tara.”
“Will you be needing his crate?” Martha asks.
“Why would I need a crate?”
“He lives in his crate,” she says.
“Not anymore,” I say. “Not anymore.”
Martha walks me to the door and outside to my car. “Does Steven live here?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t.”
Martha says good-bye, petting Waggy before she gets into her car. She starts the engine and is beginning to pull out when I see Waggy’s ears perk up slightly. Somehow he senses what is coming before I do, but I don’t have long to wait.
The explosion is deafening, shocking, and somehow disorienting, and at first I can’t tell where it is coming from. But then the windows explode from inside the house, and the flames follow. Martha stops her car, and I can see her mouth open in a scream. Waggy barks, but both of their sounds are overwhelmed by the noise of the house coming apart.
There seems to be a second explosion, not nearly as loud, and then I see security guards come running, but it doesn’t matter how big they are or how many guns they’re carrying. If their job is to protect Diana Timmerman, they are now officially unemployed.
CRIME SCENES are really boring places to be once the crime is over.
The police on the scene want to question everyone who has the misfortune to have been there, but first they want to spend hours walking around looking thoughtful and consulting in hushed tones with one another. The rescue efforts ended a while ago, and Diana Timmerman’s body has been found and carted off by the coroner, but the place is still crawling with police, firefighters, and investigators.
I’m told to wait by my car for a detective to talk to me. It’s better than waiting in the house, since at this point there pretty much isn’t a house. Martha is waiting her turn in the back of a police car, though after maybe twenty minutes she gets out and stands next to it. If she thinks her visibility will speed things up, she hasn’t been at many crime scenes.
Waggy is hanging out with me, and not that happy about it. He still has that irrepressible smile, but he wants to get out and explore the area and hopefully get petted by the cops. I’m impatient as well, but I have considerably less desire to be petted.
The state police are in control of the operation, probably because of the nature of the incident. If it can be determined that the bomb is the work of a terrorist, then I’m sure the FBI will be called in. I’m not sure what distinguishes a terrorist from a regular person who blows up houses, but it’s probably a matter of intent and the message they are sending.
It hasn’t quite hit me yet that if I had been willing to chat with the late Ms. Timmerman a few more minutes, then Waggy, Martha, and myself would be leaving this area in jars. I can see and hear Martha periodically breaking into sobs, but I’m feeling pretty stoic. I’m sure later I’ll start twitching and moaning, but right now