Read Online Look Closely by Laura Caldwell - Free Book Online Page B

al over my place, and I love it when the fal ends too, and it gets quiet. It’s like having the best of both worlds—parties and crowds for five months, R & R the rest of the year.”

    I nodded. I liked the picture he painted. There was never a respite from the teeming people or the noise in Manhattan.
    Ty waved to a woman walking her dog on the other side of the street, then shifted in his chair so he faced me directly. The sun picked up the freckles that dotted his cheekbones. “So you were how old when you lived here?” he said.
    “We left when I was seven. I remember school the most. The playground and Mrs. Howard, my first-grade teacher. I went to Dunes Primary.” It occurred to me that maybe I’d been at the same school as Ty. “Maybe we were there together?”
    “No, I went to St. Bonaventure, or St. Bonnie’s as we cal ed it. Twelve years of Catholic repression for this kid.” Ty glanced down for a second. “I think I remember you, though, or at least hearing about you.”
    “You do?” Despite the sun on my skin, I felt goose bumps prickle the back of my arms.
    Ty watched me. “Your mom died, didn’t she? When you lived here?”
    “That’s right.”
    “I remember that. I saw a picture of your family that was taken at the funeral.”
    “Where did you see it?” Maybe it had been in the paper, something I could dig up.
    Ty scratched his jaw, looking a little uncomfortable for the first time since I met him. “I saw it in my dad’s office.”
    “Your dad? Who’s your dad?”
    “He’s the chief of police.”
    “Wait a minute,” I said, after a moment spent digesting Ty’s words. My stomach felt slightly il , but there was a tickle of excitement. “This picture you saw was in the police station?”
    Ty nodded.
    “Why?” I asked.
    “I don’t know al the details. I was just a kid too, but…” He trailed off.
    “Look, I don’t know much about my mom’s death,” I said. “It’s why I’m here. So please, just tel me what you know.”
    A look of surprise came over Ty’s face, and I realized I might have spoken a little harshly.
    “I’m sorry.” I leaned toward him. “I had a case in Chicago last week. I’m an attorney. But the point is, I came here to see what I could find out about my mother’s death. Anything you could tel me would be a help.”
    “Wow.”Tyshookhishead.“That’stough.Butas I said, I don’t know much. What I recal is waiting for my dad in his office at the station. It was a big day for me because he was going to take me to get myuniformandequipmentsoIcouldstartfootbal . Mydadwasn’tthechiefthen.Hewasassistantchief. Anyway, I was playing around his desk, and when he came in, I was holding that picture. There was a coffin being moved into the ground, and your family stood around it.You had on a long yel ow coat.”
    I nodded. My Easter coat, the one my mom had picked out for me.
    “When my dad saw me with the picture,” Ty continued, “he stopped, pointed to the coffin and said, ‘Do you know what that is?’ I told him there was somebody who was dead in there. He said, ‘That’s right. A dead lady, and I’m going to find out who kil ed her.’”
    I took a breath. “But they never charged anyone, did they?”
    He shook his head again. “My dad told me sometime later that he’d been wrong, that no one had kil ed her or meant for her to die.”
    I felt a little gust of relief. If the police had ruled out murder, then maybe whoever had sent me the letter was simply mistaken. “Would your dad talk about this?”
    “I think so. I mean, I don’t see why not. He’s fishing this weekend. He won’t be back until tomorrow night. Wil you stil be around?”
    I didn’t answer right away. I’d been planning on goingbacktoChicagoSundaynightsoIcouldwait forthearbitrationdecisionthatshouldcomesometime Monday or Tuesday. But talking to the police mightbejustwhatIneededtosetmymindstraight, andIcouldfol owuponsomeotherquestionsinthe