Phil read swiftly. When he finished and passed the papers to Beth, he didn’t appear surprised. “I’m sorry. It looks to be in order.”
She turned away to allow herself to concentrate while she skimmed the legalese. “This is for the garage,” she said at last. “The stuff we hauled outside, too. And… Mom and Dad’s bedroom?” She swung around to stare at Navarro.
“If any evidence was packed away, that’s likely where.”
“No, actually—” Oh, what difference did it make? “There were a bunch of boxes full of Mom’s stuff in the garage.”
“Were?” he said sharply.
“Are. I meant to take a couple home, but, you know.” We found our mother’s body. Called 9-1-1. You came. Had he walked her out to her car to be sure she didn’t take anything? Had it occurred to him that, while he’d been inside talking to Dad, she could have put some boxes in her trunk? Emily or Matt could have done the same, although not without her seeing.
“I’d like to look at the bedroom now,” Tony said. “Then speak to you, Ms. Marshall, if you wouldn’t mind staying.”
Even if Phil agreed to stay, she wouldn’t leave her father while the detective was in the house.
Phil frowned at him, then looked at his watch. “Fine,” he said shortly.
Beth reluctantly stood back to let Detective Navarro in, uncomfortably aware when he brushed her in passing. Dad had ventured from the kitchen and was now hovering in the living room, his face tight with worry. Maybe he was more aware of his peril than she’d thought.
“Mr. Marshall,” Phil said, “the detective has a warrant to search your bedroom, master bathroom and the garage, as well as all the items removed from the garage yesterday.”
“My bedroom?”
“In case any of your wife’s belongings are stored there,” Navarro said stiffly.
“I don’t know why they would be.” Dad pondered. “I’m not sure what’s on the shelf in the closet.”
Beth knew exactly what was up there but kept her mouth shut. If Tony—no, Detective Navarro—wanted to look through a box of homemade Mother’s Day cards and children’s artwork and writings, she might even enjoy watching.
“Beth,” Phil said, “if you’ll accompany him right now, I need to make a quick phone call to cancel an appointment. Remember, he’s restricted to the one room.”
“I can do that.” She raised her eyebrows at Navarro. “Follow me.”
His mouth tightened, but he did as she said. She was aware of his head turning as they went down the hall, but the doors were closed on the linen closet, Matt’s bedroom and the one she’d shared with Emily. The front bathroom, which he could see into, was mostly bare, although she presumed Dad used it sometimes. And then there was Dad’s office, filled with books on shelves, the floor, his desk, the windowsill and anywhere else he’d found room to pile them. Maybe she’d been too quick when she told Matt that Dad wouldn’t have spent the tuition money if it had been readily available. He did buy books. Lots of books. He spent hours a day searching the catalogs of obscure bookstores that sold scholarly and antiquarian books online.
“Do you want to go through Dad’s office, too?” she asked, with snide intent. “Maybe you could organize while you’re at it.”
“I think you need a librarian for that.”
Beth sighed, soundlessly she hoped. No, one of these days, she would tackle Dad’s books, before the heaps blocked access to his desk and computer. Knowing him, he’d buy another computer and settle in at the kitchen table instead of trying to winnow his collection.
Navarro looked over his shoulder, frowning. “I should have included closets.”
“The linen closet? You’re kidding.”
“Why would I be kidding?”
“Because I took over running the house. Nobody could have hidden anything in there.” She stopped and flung open the door. “See?”
Phil came down the hall in time to see the detective standing in front of the linen closet with his hands on his hips.
“Beth, that’s not included in the warrant.”