Page 16 of The Wives of Hawthorne Lane
Detective Olsen:Churchill?
Ms. Woodrow:He’s my cat, of course. Do you like cats?
Detective Olsen:Er, not particularly. More of a dog guy myself.
Ms. Woodrow:That figures.
Detective Olsen:Ma’am, if we could get back to the incident in question—
Ms. Woodrow:Right, yes. Well, I can’t say that I saw anything exactly. I was watching my shows at the time, and I heard a ruckus out on the street. People yelling and whatnot. At first I thought it was just part of the ridiculous festival. It gets so loud. But it started to sound like maybe people were arguing. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, so I went to the window to see what the trouble was. I couldn’t see much of anything by the time I got there, though. I don’t move as quickly as I used to. I assumed whoever was out there had left, but I can’t be sure. It was quite dark. I just know all that yelling had stopped.
Detective Olsen:Thank you, Ms. Woodrow. That’s very helpful. Do you remember about what time this occurred?
Ms. Woodrow:I do. It was around nine o’clock. I remember because of the fireworks. It was just before they began.
Detective Olsen:I appreciate your time, Ms. Woodrow, and if you remember anything else, please give me a call.
Ms. Woodrow:I told them, you know. About the broken streetlight over there by the path to the woods. I called the city council about it no less than four times, if you can believe it. It’s been out for weeks! Too dark to see a thing! Even my security cameras can’t pick anything up. It’s a hazard, I told them. Though I never imagined anything like this would happen.
Detective Olsen:You have security cameras?
Ms. Woodrow:Yes. Lenny had them installed years ago. After an incident involving some kids and toilet paper. I hardly ever look at them, mind you. I used to be able to see who was coming and going out of the woods on that path over there. But with that streetlight out, the damn things are as good as useless. Hey, do you think whoever did this planned it? Maybe they knew about the streetlight too. Lord knows it’s been out long enough.
Detective Olsen:Ms. Woodrow, I daresay I think you might have missed your calling as a detective.
Six Weeks
Before
Halloween
12
Audrey
Hawthorne Lane
Audrey pulls up to the curb in front of her house, her tires crunching over the pavement. Normally, she’d park in the driveway, but tonight there’s a strange car in her usual spot.
Curious, Audrey steps out of her BMW and makes her way up the front walk, inspecting the unfamiliar vehicle—black, sleek, new, paper floor mats still in place—as she passes by. She wonders who it belongs to.
As she reaches for her doorknob, she feels a slight tick of annoyance. She had a long day at the office, putting out fires forTop Cast’s upcoming issue, and the last thing she wants is to play hostess to whoever Seth has invited to the house. But, as it seems she was given no choice in the matter, she straightens herself in her heels and pushes open the door.
“Hello?” she calls into the unnervingly quiet house.
“In here,” Seth calls back, his voice trailing out of the kitchen.
Audrey’s heels click against the hardwood floor as she crosses through the living room to find her husband seated at the counter of their newly renovated kitchen, a glass of deep amber liquid set on the glossy slab of white Carrara marble in front of him. She winces at the ring she knows it will leave behind.
Audrey scans the room, surprised to find him alone. “Whose car is that out front?”
“Huh?” Seth replies. “Oh, it’s a loaner. My car is in the shop.”
“Again? Didn’t you just bring it in for an oil change two weeks ago?”
Seth nods, pulls a draft of his drink. “Sure did. I swear they mess with it on purpose. Tinker with shit just so that you’ll have to come back and spend a fortune on repairs. The owner said something about a spark plug and needing to order a part.”
“The perils of owning a foreign car, I guess,” Audrey jests.
