Page 36 of Little Empty Promises

“I asked if he was home, and Rosalyn told me he was out of town for work.”

My mother rolled her eyes.“Doesn’t surprise me.Eddy’s been in and out ever since they bought the place.”

“I take it you don’t like him.”

“Not one bit.Every time I engage him in conversation, he shuts me down.I have no idea why.I’ve shown them nothing but kindness since they bought the place.Ask me, he’s not a people person, and he has no interest in having anything to do with his neighbors.Cordelia was the same in that respect.”

“Did she ever say anything about Eddy?”

“Oh, let’s see now.Guess it would have been right after the couple moved in.She brought over a loaf of bread she’d baked.And you know, it wasn’t an easy thing for her to do.She wasn’t a people person, as you know, but she still did it.Eddy almost slammed the door in her face before his wife turned up.Who does that?I’ll tell you who.A man with no manners.”

“Did you ever see Eddy mistreat Rosalyn?”

My mom swished a hand through the air.“Nah.Like he would do it in front of my face.Believe me, if he had seen anything, I wouldn’t have stood for it, as you well know.He would have had an earful from me.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

My mother leaned back, tapping a finger against the chair, thinking.“Let’s see now … it would have been before my girls’ trip.Wait, no.Now that I’m thinking about it, I suppose I haven’t seen him for some time now, not since Cordelia died.”

Harvey nodded, adding, “You know, neither have I.”

15

My mother had a spare key to Cordelia’s house, a key she’d given me on the night of Cordelia’s murder.When Cordelia and Marlon were still alive, they liked to go on cruises.While they were gone, my mother would feed the cat, water their plants, and keep an eye on things.

Foley and Whitlock had confirmed they’d done a thorough search of the house.Any evidence they deemed relevant to the case had been taken.And given it wasn’t where the murder had taken place, it wasn’t a crime scene.I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about going inside and looking around.

When I entered the house, I found it to be in order.Whatever had been disturbed when the police searched the premises looked like it had been put back to its original location.I guessed it was Whitlock’s doing.The two of us had bonded over many things as we’d worked together, cleanliness being one of them.

The first thing to catch my eye was the photo wall Claudette had told me about.She was right.It was filled with pictures of the two sisters, distant memories from a happier time.As I looked at each photo, I realized they had been arranged in chronological order, from the time they were kids until, what I guessed to be the last photo I guessed they’d taken together before their relationship imploded.

It was nice to see the sisters in earlier times, happier times where the two of them posed arm in arm for the camera, without so much as a worry between them.At least that’s the story the pictures told.Whether there was any truth to it remained a mystery.

I thought of Phoebe, and how much light she brought into my life.I couldn’t imagine a life without her in it.Thinking of her now, I took out my cell phone and sent her a text message, checking in with the hope she was doing better today than yesterday.

I stuck the phone back in my pocket and shifted my focus to the master bedroom.It was straight down the hallway at the end.I made my way there and flipped on the light.

The bed was made, the decorative pillows in perfect order.On the floor was a pair of red slippers, and on the nightstand, a dainty woman’s bracelet.A poetry book rested next to it—The Love Poems of Lord Byron.A bookmark inserted into it showed it was halfway read.

I grabbed the book and opened it, reading the inscription on the inside:

To Cordelia,

The love of my life.

My days are full of an unexplainable bliss, and it’s all because of you.

All my love, Marlon

I flipped through the poems, and then set the poetry book back where I’d found it.

It felt strange being here, like I was an intruder, roaming around inside a place I didn’t belong, each room like a time capsule, gathering dust.And yet, it still had life, buzzing and vibrating from the tick of the clock on the wall to the sound the heater made as it kicked on.It gave me the feeling Cordelia might walk in the door any moment, even though she never would.She’d been laid to rest now, ashes to ashes, as they say.

I turned my attention to the right side of the room and the three oversized windows.The blinds on each were drawn.I walked to the one in the middle, turned the wand, and as the blind opened, I looked out.

I was shocked to see I had a perfect view into the Westwoods’ living room.Their black, sheer curtains were halfway closed, but even so, I imagined with a little light, Cordelia would have been able to see right through them.

Had Cordelia stood where I was standing now, snooping through her neighbors’ window to pass the time?

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