winced inwardly at his words. He sounded too much like a police officer. Again she shook her head.
“Who are some of her friends, someone she may have confided in?” he asked.
“Her best friend, Judy Maes, works for the city.” Maxine startled herself as she said Judy Maes’s name, and she shifted sharply on the bed, almost losing her balance. “Veronica, did someone call Judy? I forgot to tell Judy.”
Mrs. Cordova patted Maxine’s arm. “I called her. Don’t worry.”
Mrs. Baca slumped back down on the bed, her burst of energy lost.
“Did she get any phone calls while she was home last night? Anything?” Gil continued.
“No.”
“Have you noticed anyone strange hanging around? Any strange phone calls?”
“No.”
“What did you talk about at dinner?”
“I’m not sure…. I don’t …” She stopped.
“How did she seem at dinner? Happy? Sad? Upset?” Gil asked gently.
“She was fine. Everything was fine.” Maxine seemed to sag inwardly. She was swaying as she sat.
“I guess that’s all I need to know for now. I know the state police called earlier. They’re planning to come by later on tonight to ask you the same types of questions.” Mrs. Baca nodded. Gil had told Pollack that Maxine’s husband had been killed in the line of duty in the hope that they would go easy on her during the questioning. Gil continued. “Do you want me to be here?”
“No. If Veronica would be here, that would help.”
Mrs. Cordova murmured, “Of course,” as she got Maxine to her feet.
“Would you mind if I looked around Melissa’s room?” he asked. Maxine nodded.
“Another thing.” The women paused at the door as he spoke. “The newspapers and TV stations will be calling.”
“They already have,” Mrs. Cordova said. “I talked to them. They were very nice.”
“I’d be happy to talk to them from now on,” he said before Mrs. Cordova interrupted.
“It’s not a problem,” she said with a wave of a hand.
The two women stood in the doorway looking at him. When his daughter Joy was four, she would cry for her stuffed animals whenever they left the house, her “left-behinds,” she called them. Veronica and Maxine were a pair of left-behinds.
Patsy Burke sat at her kitchen table reading “Bridge Play of the Day” in the newspaper and sipping chamomile tea. Claire had told that her she should put some bourbon in her tea to help with her cough that she still had from her bronchitis. But Patsy had never been a drinker.
She looked at the clock, thinking she should go to bed soon. They were going to Hobby Lobby tomorrow morning to get the application. They had already picked out Patsy’s outfit—navy pants and a white blouse. Claire wanted her to wear a scarf for a touch of color and to show them “that you still got style.” Patsy hadn’t decided on the scarf yet. She needed to find the pearl earrings that John had given her as an anniversary present and try to remember where she had put the iron.
She took a sip of tea. She had to admit that she was nervous. She had gone over what she was going to say during the interview in her head. Claire had written up a list of questions they might ask her. A few of the questions stumped her. Like: What’s your favorite book? Patsy hadn’t really read any intellectual books. Claire had told her just to say, “I haven’t had time for a lot of reading lately because I like to stay active.” Patsy had written that down and tried to memorize it. She kept tripping over the words. It just didn’t sound like her. It sounded so confident.
The police scanner on the table made a buzzing noise as one of the fire departments got paged out. John had first gotten her a scanner when he was in the police department so that she could hear what was going on. She hadn’t really wanted it. But he knew that other police wives listened to them, so he got Patsy one for her birthday. She thought it was because he couldn’t think of any other present to get her. She had gotten used to the noise over the years and found that now she couldn’t sleep without it on.
One night, twenty years ago back in Wichita, there had been a bad summer thunderstorm and the electricity went out at their house. The scanner went dead just as they were reporting that a police officer had been shot. Patsy and the boys had been sitting down for dinner.