the older man in casual clothes. The room was small, but neat. The single bed was made, covered with a tattered beige candlewick bedspread. The only other furniture was an old dresser, the front of one drawer hanging off, another missing altogether. The walls were papered with posters, not of rock stars, but scientists. Albert Einstein, with his big halo of white hair. Marigold thought she recognized Isaac Newton because the dude was holding an apple and looking up into a tree. She didn’t know the other old guys in long robes surrounded by stars or primitive scientific instruments.
“She was into the history of science,” the female cop said, “that’s interesting.”
“Oh, those,” Marigold’s lips tightened in distaste. “The previous girl left those. I told you she was psycho.”
Smith, the cop, looked through the things on the top of the dresser. A hairbrush, a stick of deodorant, almost finished, a scattering of colorful elastic bands, three baby bottles, clean. A tin of formula and a blue pacifier.
It was all Marigold could do not to shove the cop’s nosy hands aside. These were Ashley’s things. She didn’t have much, but it all deserved to be treated with respect. Smith opened the dresser drawers while her boss watched. Marigold wondered why a woman not much older than she would be working as a cop. Dressed like a storm trooper, doing what a bunch of old guys told her to do. She felt that Constable Smith was judging her, and Ashley as well, by the way she picked through Ashley’s few things.
Not that she’d had much: piles of disposable diapers, sleeper suits, blue mostly, neatly folded. For herself, summer clothes only, long skirts, loose tops. “Do you know if she intended to leave at the end of summer, Marigold?” Winters asked.
She shrugged. “No idea.”
Practical white underwear. A single pair of sturdy sports sandals standing against the wall. Smith found six books underneath Ashley’s underwear in the bottom drawer. Mass-market paperbacks, well-read, by big name authors. She handed them to Winters and he checked the flyleaf and flicked through the pages. Marigold could tell by his face that he didn’t find anything of importance in the books.
A book was half under the bed. Smith bent over and pulled it out. She showed it to Winters. He sighed, heavily. The book was on caring for your baby.
Smith dropped to her knees and peeked under the bed. “It’s dark, and hard to see,” she said. “Bring me a broom, Marigold, so I can fish around under here.”
No point in arguing. Marigold did as she was asked, resentment at being ordered around by a woman her own age building up inside her.
Smith pulled out a crumpled tissue, another pacifier, a small amount of dust, and a crumpled flyer protesting the Grizzly Resort.
The woman handed the flyer to the man. He read it. “Was Ashley interested in this issue?”
Ashley was intensely interested in the Grizzly Resort. It was about the only thing, other than Miller, that Ash seemed to care about. Marigold shrugged. “She said we have to take steps to preserve the environment now or there won’t be anything left for children such as Miller to appreciate.”
She hadn’t, in fact, said any such thing. She’d been interested in the resort, without taking sides. But that’s what people who were opposed to the resort said, so Marigold repeated it. Something to keep the cops happy.
Winters held up the flyer. “Did she go to this demonstration? Or any others?”
She had. And came back unusually subdued. She hadn’t said much about it, or what she thought of the protesters’ arguments. When Marigold tried to discuss it, Ashley said she hadn’t made up her mind. Personally Marigold figured that if the resort went up, the bears would go somewhere else. Plus it looked like there’d be some nice bars and restaurants at the resort, and she was hoping to apply for a job. The tips were bound to be a lot better than she got at The Bishop and
“She was into the history of science,” the female cop said, “that’s interesting.”
“Oh, those,” Marigold’s lips tightened in distaste. “The previous girl left those. I told you she was psycho.”
Smith, the cop, looked through the things on the top of the dresser. A hairbrush, a stick of deodorant, almost finished, a scattering of colorful elastic bands, three baby bottles, clean. A tin of formula and a blue pacifier.
It was all Marigold could do not to shove the cop’s nosy hands aside. These were Ashley’s things. She didn’t have much, but it all deserved to be treated with respect. Smith opened the dresser drawers while her boss watched. Marigold wondered why a woman not much older than she would be working as a cop. Dressed like a storm trooper, doing what a bunch of old guys told her to do. She felt that Constable Smith was judging her, and Ashley as well, by the way she picked through Ashley’s few things.
Not that she’d had much: piles of disposable diapers, sleeper suits, blue mostly, neatly folded. For herself, summer clothes only, long skirts, loose tops. “Do you know if she intended to leave at the end of summer, Marigold?” Winters asked.
She shrugged. “No idea.”
Practical white underwear. A single pair of sturdy sports sandals standing against the wall. Smith found six books underneath Ashley’s underwear in the bottom drawer. Mass-market paperbacks, well-read, by big name authors. She handed them to Winters and he checked the flyleaf and flicked through the pages. Marigold could tell by his face that he didn’t find anything of importance in the books.
A book was half under the bed. Smith bent over and pulled it out. She showed it to Winters. He sighed, heavily. The book was on caring for your baby.
Smith dropped to her knees and peeked under the bed. “It’s dark, and hard to see,” she said. “Bring me a broom, Marigold, so I can fish around under here.”
No point in arguing. Marigold did as she was asked, resentment at being ordered around by a woman her own age building up inside her.
Smith pulled out a crumpled tissue, another pacifier, a small amount of dust, and a crumpled flyer protesting the Grizzly Resort.
The woman handed the flyer to the man. He read it. “Was Ashley interested in this issue?”
Ashley was intensely interested in the Grizzly Resort. It was about the only thing, other than Miller, that Ash seemed to care about. Marigold shrugged. “She said we have to take steps to preserve the environment now or there won’t be anything left for children such as Miller to appreciate.”
She hadn’t, in fact, said any such thing. She’d been interested in the resort, without taking sides. But that’s what people who were opposed to the resort said, so Marigold repeated it. Something to keep the cops happy.
Winters held up the flyer. “Did she go to this demonstration? Or any others?”
She had. And came back unusually subdued. She hadn’t said much about it, or what she thought of the protesters’ arguments. When Marigold tried to discuss it, Ashley said she hadn’t made up her mind. Personally Marigold figured that if the resort went up, the bears would go somewhere else. Plus it looked like there’d be some nice bars and restaurants at the resort, and she was hoping to apply for a job. The tips were bound to be a lot better than she got at The Bishop and
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