“Yeah, I know.” He glanced over his shoulder to the door that was still cracked just a bit, then nodded. “Okay. Fine. Sure, why not? My daughter’s about to go down for the night so it would be a good time . . . oh, hell, Lily loves Mom. They used to . . .” Again his voice trailed off as he led them inside a cookie-cutter house that looked nearly identical to the others in the cul-de-sac. He closed the door behind them, then hesitated, and Pescoli saw him take a swipe at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Moving boxes in various sizes had been stacked in the hallway and den, and toys of every shape and color littered the living areas. The sharp aromas of garlic and tomato sauce caused Pescoli’s stomach to rumble. How long had it been since she’d eaten? It seemed like forever. She stepped around
a toddler’s plastic ride-’em toy, an orange van with a seat that opened and created a small storage space.
“Excuse the mess,” he said, “we’re moving. Right after the first of the year, so everything’s kind of crazy right now.”
“Where are you moving?” Alvarez asked as they found their way to the kitchen where a pot of tomato sauce was cooling, pasta draining in a sieve in the sink. A toddler was seated in a high chair, busy finger-painting the tray with what was left of her spaghetti sauce. The rest, it seemed, was smeared across the lower half of her face.
“Across town, to Ranch Hills Estates.” Pescoli had heard of it, a newer upscale neighborhood with large lots, views of the mountains, and golf course memberships included. “This is my daughter, Lily. Can you say ‘Hi,’ Lil?”
“Hi!” the little girl echoed excitedly, obviously glad for the distraction from her meal-cum-artwork. Her eyes were round and blue, her hair a tuft of light brown, and a handful of teeth were visible as her grin stretched wide.
“Cee-Cee?” Winston called toward a short hallway while Lily pounded on her tray. Seconds later a very pregnant woman carrying a laundry basket appeared. “This is Detective Pescoli and Detective Alvarez. They’re here with some questions about Mom.”
“Oh,” she said somberly, dropping the basket onto a kitchen table already littered with empty boxes, tape dispenser, and marking pens. “Can you just give me a minute to change her and put her to bed?” she asked, then found a baby wipe and started cleaning her daughter’s face and hands. “We’re already running late with dinner. It’s almost bedtime. For her, I mean.”
“We can start with your husband,” Alvarez suggested.
By the time Winston had unburied chairs in the living area and they were finally seated, the cries of “Mommy! Mommy! Oooouuut!” echoed down the hallway.
“Every night we go through this . . . it’s normal.” Then added, “About the only thing that is, lately.”
A few minutes later, Cee-Cee reappeared.
“Sorry. Duty first,” she said as she pushed a bag of toys out of the rocker and sat down wearily. “I think we’ll just have to ignore her.” She sent a look down the hall where the child’s cries were already slowing down. “I’m sorry.” She forced a smile, “I’m Cecilia. Cee-Cee. This is just so awful. I mean, I can’t imagine anyone . . .” Clasping her hands together, she shuddered. “If only she hadn’t gone to the cabin.”
“If someone followed her up there to kill her, she wasn’t safe here either,” Winston said.
“I suppose.” To Pescoli, she asked, “Do you have any idea who would do this to Kathy?”
“We’re working on it,” Pescoli told her. “And we’re hoping you can help. You were all close, as a family?”
Cee-Cee was nodding. “Kathryn and I got off to a rocky start, I guess. Two strong women, you know, and I’m sure she didn’t think anyone was good enough for her only boy.” She threw Winston a smile.
“This is old news,” he responded.
“It is,” his wife agreed equably. “We were always civil and then Lily came along and Kathryn was just so good with her, so into the baby. Nothing was ever said, but from the minute Winston’s mother laid eyes on the baby, all the hard feelings just evaporated.”
“You agree?” Alvarez asked Winston.
He lifted a dismissive shoulder. “Yeah, I guess. I didn’t see it happening so instantaneously, but Mom did seem to let go a little once Lily arrived.”
Cee-Cee said, “This is just so horrid.”
“What about boyfriends?” Alvarez asked.
Winston looked uncomfortable. “I think she may have dated, but we never met any of them.” He thought for a second. “Since Dad died she never got involved seriously, as far as I know.”
“No one recently?” Pescoli asked.
“I really couldn’t tell you,” Winston said stiffly. “My mother’s personal life was just that: personal.”
“Any other family problems?” Pescoli tried.
“No.” Winston was firm.
Cee-Cee glanced across the room to her husband, who rather than sit in another side chair was standing in the archway to the foyer. “There’s Vincent . . .”