right?"
"That's
what we're trying to figure out," Jacob said. "Do you have a picture of her?"
"Yeah." She went into the kitchen, shut off the stove,
and pulled the pot of pasta off the burner before moving to a refrigerator
covered with dozens of snapshots, drawings, and reminder cards. The toys, the
bubbling pot, and the general chaos had a homey charm Jacob feared and envied.
Betty
flipped through a stack of pictures held together by a clip magnet. On the
bottom she found a picture taken last fall. "This was taken at Halloween. I
took a picture of the kids with Jackie. She was our first stop on our
trick-or-treat route. Custom-made bags of candy for the
kids."
The
woman pictured with the tiny Spiderman and black ninja had shoulder-length dark
hair streaked with some gray. She wore an orange sweater, a huge smile and
cradled a large bowl of safety suckers.
This
was Jackie White. The contrast between this picture and the woman he'd seen by
the river caught him a little short. This woman was so full of life. Radiant.
There
was no charm around her neck, but the sweater could have been covering it. Again,
he was reminded of Kendall Shaw. "Did she ever mention a Ruth?"
Betty
thought for a moment. "No."
"It
could have been a nickname," Zack prompted.
The
baby reached for her nose but she shooed it away. "Maybe, but I never heard the
name mentioned."
"What
about a mother, a sister, an aunt?" he prompted again.
"I
don't think so. She didn't have family. I mean her parents were older and
they'd passed. And she'd mentioned once that she was an only child."
"What
can you tell me about her?" Zack asked.
"She
was always nice to me. And she loved the kids and kept her yard up." The last
statement prompted an embarrassed grin. "I liked her
but with the kids I don't have a lot of time to socialize. And she was always
volunteering at her church."
"You
know the name of her church?" Jacob asked.
She
thought for a moment. "First Methodist in Glen Allen, I think."
Zack's
face looked grim. "You said her husband's name was Phil White?"
"Yes."
Jackie
had been strangled. Strangulation was a very intimate form of murder that required
close contact. And her clothes had been intact as if someone wanted to preserve
her dignity. It wasn't uncommon for an angry husband to suffer remorse after he
killed his wife. "Did she have any other friends, family, visitors?" Zack
asked.
"Sorry,
I really don't know." On cue, the four-year-old struck a ninja pose and then
kicked a kitchen chair. Betty glared at him and then smiled apologetically at
Jacob and Zack. "It's bad not to know who your neighbors are. But honestly,
there are days when I don't know up from down."
"Do
you have a spare key to her house?" Jacob asked. "I'm going to call for a
search warrant and it would be nice if we didn't have to break in."
She
smiled. "That I can help you with." She moved to a
drawer by the stove and opened it. It was crammed full of miscellaneous junk
that didn't belong anywhere. She dug through the mess for a good minute before
she found the key attached to a Texas-shaped key chain. "Here it is."
Jacob
accepted the key. "Thanks." He took Betty's full name, address, and phone
number.
Her
face looked pale now. She glanced at her kids, who hadn't missed a word. "Has
something b-a-d happened to Jackie?"
Jacob
attempted a half smile, but he doubted it was very comforting. "I really can't
get into the details until I've spoken to her husband."
Worry
deepened the lines around her eyes. "But you'll let me know?"
Jacob
saw the earnestness in her eyes. "We'll be in touch." He handed her back the
picture.
"Keep
it if you think it will help."
He
nodded and pocketed the picture. "Thanks."
The
two detectives strode out of the warm house into the bracing cold. They
returned to their car, called their sergeant with a report, and began the
process of getting a search warrant.
Twenty
minutes before the six o'clock newscast, Kendall leaned forward into the
"That's
what we're trying to figure out," Jacob said. "Do you have a picture of her?"
"Yeah." She went into the kitchen, shut off the stove,
and pulled the pot of pasta off the burner before moving to a refrigerator
covered with dozens of snapshots, drawings, and reminder cards. The toys, the
bubbling pot, and the general chaos had a homey charm Jacob feared and envied.
Betty
flipped through a stack of pictures held together by a clip magnet. On the
bottom she found a picture taken last fall. "This was taken at Halloween. I
took a picture of the kids with Jackie. She was our first stop on our
trick-or-treat route. Custom-made bags of candy for the
kids."
The
woman pictured with the tiny Spiderman and black ninja had shoulder-length dark
hair streaked with some gray. She wore an orange sweater, a huge smile and
cradled a large bowl of safety suckers.
This
was Jackie White. The contrast between this picture and the woman he'd seen by
the river caught him a little short. This woman was so full of life. Radiant.
There
was no charm around her neck, but the sweater could have been covering it. Again,
he was reminded of Kendall Shaw. "Did she ever mention a Ruth?"
Betty
thought for a moment. "No."
"It
could have been a nickname," Zack prompted.
The
baby reached for her nose but she shooed it away. "Maybe, but I never heard the
name mentioned."
"What
about a mother, a sister, an aunt?" he prompted again.
"I
don't think so. She didn't have family. I mean her parents were older and
they'd passed. And she'd mentioned once that she was an only child."
"What
can you tell me about her?" Zack asked.
"She
was always nice to me. And she loved the kids and kept her yard up." The last
statement prompted an embarrassed grin. "I liked her
but with the kids I don't have a lot of time to socialize. And she was always
volunteering at her church."
"You
know the name of her church?" Jacob asked.
She
thought for a moment. "First Methodist in Glen Allen, I think."
Zack's
face looked grim. "You said her husband's name was Phil White?"
"Yes."
Jackie
had been strangled. Strangulation was a very intimate form of murder that required
close contact. And her clothes had been intact as if someone wanted to preserve
her dignity. It wasn't uncommon for an angry husband to suffer remorse after he
killed his wife. "Did she have any other friends, family, visitors?" Zack
asked.
"Sorry,
I really don't know." On cue, the four-year-old struck a ninja pose and then
kicked a kitchen chair. Betty glared at him and then smiled apologetically at
Jacob and Zack. "It's bad not to know who your neighbors are. But honestly,
there are days when I don't know up from down."
"Do
you have a spare key to her house?" Jacob asked. "I'm going to call for a
search warrant and it would be nice if we didn't have to break in."
She
smiled. "That I can help you with." She moved to a
drawer by the stove and opened it. It was crammed full of miscellaneous junk
that didn't belong anywhere. She dug through the mess for a good minute before
she found the key attached to a Texas-shaped key chain. "Here it is."
Jacob
accepted the key. "Thanks." He took Betty's full name, address, and phone
number.
Her
face looked pale now. She glanced at her kids, who hadn't missed a word. "Has
something b-a-d happened to Jackie?"
Jacob
attempted a half smile, but he doubted it was very comforting. "I really can't
get into the details until I've spoken to her husband."
Worry
deepened the lines around her eyes. "But you'll let me know?"
Jacob
saw the earnestness in her eyes. "We'll be in touch." He handed her back the
picture.
"Keep
it if you think it will help."
He
nodded and pocketed the picture. "Thanks."
The
two detectives strode out of the warm house into the bracing cold. They
returned to their car, called their sergeant with a report, and began the
process of getting a search warrant.
Twenty
minutes before the six o'clock newscast, Kendall leaned forward into the
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