Page 70 of Inside Silence
“For sure.”
First thing I did when I got here was walk around the outside of the house to look for any obvious issues. Lucky for Savvy, the roof appeared to be in good condition and the windows look like they were replaced within the last couple of years. I couldn’t see any cracks in the foundation on the outside, but we’ll see once I get into the basement.
I hear a whizz and the sharp click of the lock opening when I punch in the code on the keypad. That and the front door are obviously upgrades as well.
It’s a promising start, the house looks to have good bones—although I’ll have to confirm that once I’ve had a look at the basement—and it’s sitting on a nice, large and mature, pie-shaped lot.
It’s a little weird, walking through Savvy’s house without her here, it feels a bit stalkerish. Still, I whip out my tape measure and start jotting down measurements and rough sketches of the layout. I have software on my computer at home that will translate the measurements and markings I enter into an easy to navigate 3D image of the house and each individual space, with walls, windows, and doors all marked. I’ll be able to move or adjust all the individual components to show what is possible for the overall space.
The place has three bedrooms. One is used as extra storage, and the second one is set up as a home office. When I put my hand on the door to the third room, I know I’m about to go into Savvy’s bedroom and hesitate for a moment.
I’m surprised at its starkness. The entire house is lacking in personality, but I figure that was because she wanted changes made before investing time or money into decorating. Her bedroom, however, I would’ve expected to show a little more of Savvy.
The bed was straightened in a hurry, and one drawer of the white dresser against the wall across from the bed was left open with some of the contents hanging out. A laundry basket sitting next to it is overflowing, yesterday’s uniform on top.
It smells like Savvy though. Nothing heavy, just a hint of the shampoo or body wash she must’ve used in the shower this morning lingering in the air. It’s good, fresh, wholesome, and yet my body responds like it’s the most mysteriously seductive scent.
The only other thing standing out to me is the picture frame on the single nightstand. Curiosity has me approach and pick it up. Even though I had a reasonable expectation of what the image might depict, it’s still a bit of a shock to the system. Savvy, happy in the arms of another man, with Auden in the background, photobombing the couple as he smiles at the camera.
So this is Matt.
As much as I want to, I can’t envy a man who died way too young. I can, however, regret missing any opportunity to make Savvy happy going forward.
Chapter 21
Savvy
* * *
“I can do that, you know,” Brenda offers, poking her head into the roll-call room.
I’ve set up shop in here because of the two large whiteboards. I needed a way to outline what I have on Ben’s murder, so I could see it all laid out at once instead of flipping through the pages of my notepad to put all the details together.
The conference table is bigger than my desk too, so I can spread out my notes and reports without getting anything lost in stacks of other paperwork waiting for me.
This is now my war room.
“It’s okay,” I tell Brenda as I’m transcribing some of my notes from the pad to the whiteboard. “It helps me to go through this process.”
“Okay, if you say so. Your father just got here, by the way. He’s talking to KC in the lobby.”
“Good, can you tell him I’m in here?”
I went looking for him last night, but no one was home, and my call went straight to voicemail. I left him a message I needed to speak with him as soon as possible. I’m conflicted, I’m still angry at him, but I also need him to make a push on the extra funding with the county commission.
In addition, I need to talk to him about the things that came out of the last interview with Sanchuk, and that’s the part I dread the most. I have a hard time believing my father would’ve condoned any of the things Sanchuk copped to, but I need to hear it from him.
“Will do. I’m popping out to pick up some lunch at the diner, can I get you something?”
I called Nate last night when I got home around ten. I’d thought about going back to his place to sleep, but I really need to do a few loads of laundry and collect some things that need to be dropped off at the dry cleaners. Maybe I’ll have a chance tomorrow.
Anyway, Nate mentioned he’d been at my place and had a look around. He talked about going into Spokane this morning to hammer down some prices for building supplies he would need. Something about setting up a contractor account so he could get better rates.
He was very sweet and apologized he wouldn’t be around to bring me lunch today.
“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind picking me up a club sandwich on rye and a large ice tea, half-sweet, please.”
The ice tea at the diner is the real deal, made with steeped tea and lemon, and is delicious, except for the fact they usually put in too much of that syrup to sweeten it. Hence my half-order.
