Page 36 of Gem Warfare

“I helped them tear down a shed one year. You must have been fourteen,” Dad said to me. “Do you remember? I think you helped.”

I frowned, trying to recall the incident. “No, that was across the street,” I said. “They had a three-legged Labrador.”

“Oh,” said Dad, and shrugged.

“I’m surprised you two don’t remember but I suppose younever had friends in that house,” said Mom. She loaded the bread board with cheese, salad, condiments, and returned to the fridge for a slab of butter. “Let’s see. It’s not been occupied since the Singhs sold it to the Dugans but you already knew that. There were the Weinbergs, the Longs, the Singhs, and the Batleys were there when we moved in. The Longs were tenants because a landlord bought it to lease out but the rest were owners. Do you think the Dugans will stay? They seem such a nice family and we do need nice families in the neighborhood or we’ll just turn into an old people community and I don’t think that will be so nice if all we have to talk about is our aching hips and what kind of buffet we’ll have at our funerals.”

“Okay,” said Garrett, raising his eyebrows at me behind our mom’s back.

“And my drill,” said Dad.

“We didn’t really know the Weinbergs,” continued Mom, “but the Batleys were good friends. Do you remember them? Annie Batley used to braid Serena’s hair for her and you boys used to play with their boys? David and Matthew. They’re both married now. Matthew married a man but he never did like soccer so I suppose that’s why.”

“I don’t think that’s why, Mom,” I said.

“I don’t like soccer so much either and I married a woman,” said Garrett. “I remember David and Matt. David was rowdy. Matt spent a lot of time in the greenhouse with his dad.”

“That’s right, and digging in their vegetable garden. He’s a landscape designer now.” My mom stopped and gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “He would know how to bury a dead body! He got a lot of digging practice.”

“We all know how to bury a dead body,” I said. “You don’t need to take classes.”

Mom’s attention turned to me and she shook her head. “I raised you wrong,” she said. “But you are entertaining for themost part. Nothing like your sister.”

I held back from agreeing with her but it was an internal struggle.

“I think the body post-dates the Batleys,” said Garrett.

“That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure how to word the news that Matthew might be a murderer in the Christmas card to his parents,” said Mom.

“Do you recognize this man?” asked Garrett, taking a plastic baggie from his suit jacket as he stood. He crossed the kitchen in light, easy steps and handed it to Mom. I resisted the urge to finger open his pocket and see exactly how many baggies he stored in there. Were they all fresh? Did he ever reuse them? Did he bulk purchase them?

“Why are you looking at me like I smell?” asked Garrett.

“No reason. Is that the photo from the wallet?” I asked and he nodded.

“Hmm, there’s something familiar about him,” said Mom. “The man more than the boy. Put it on the table and let me think while I make the sandwiches. Stop hovering, Garrett, and sit down.”

“Yes, Mom,” said my big police lieutenant brother as he promptly pulled out a chair.

“Sit,” instructed Mom and Dad and I did too.

Mom set a plate each in front of us and another for herself, then she grabbed a pack of chips from the counter and juice from the refrigerator, directing me to immediately get up and find glasses in the cabinet. As she tipped the chips into a bowl, she said, “So the Batleys sold to the Weinbergs. Mr. Weinberg inherited a house in New Jersey from his parents so they sold it to the landlord. There were only a couple of tenants, I think. A family and then a single man. I don’t think he stayed long. The house was probably too big for him alone. No, Long wasn’t their name, was it? Let’s see. Long? No, that’s not right. Lang! It wasLang. Nice family, boys yours and Serena’s age.”

“Mine?” asked Garrett. He bit into his sandwich.

“No, Lexi’s. Nice family but their boys had different interests to our girls so that’s probably why we didn’t get together much and I remember the parents worked a lot so the boys were often staying with their grandparents, I think. The Langs stayed a few years, then bought a house in Chilton, I think. Then the man moved in a couple weeks later. Just him.”

“Do you know why a single man would want a house to himself?” I asked.

“I might have asked at the time but I really don’t recall. I do remember he worked away a lot. Always traveling. We had him over for neighborhood barbecues here and there. He was quite the charmer, I can tell you. Everyone liked him. He had a way with words. All the ladies thought he was wonderful; all the men liked him too because he always wanted to hear about their police stories. I’m not sure your dad liked him.” Mom paused to sip her juice, then reached for the photo, scooping it from under Dad’s reaching hand. “That could be him but his hair was different. A little longer, and he often had a beard.”

“Do you remember what happened to him?” I asked.

“No. I don’t think I even knew he left until I saw a realtor’s ‘for sale’ sign go up in the front yard. I wondered if he’d ripped off the landlord and gotten evicted, or if he’d run off without paying rent, because we never saw him again after that.” Mom continued studying the photo. “I think he did mention having a son that he didn’t see much but I don’t recall why. His name was Joe. The man, not the boy.”

“Joe what?” asked Garrett.

“Brown, maybe.” Mom shrugged.

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