“I like them.” He did. The gently faded fabrics gave the room a comfortable air, helped by warm woods, a couple of bookcases and what looked like an old Persian rug, a little ragged in places. “Nice place,” he added.
“The rent is more than I should be spending.” She dropped her purse and keys on the go-through to the kitchen. “My last apartment was out by the mall, and there were suddenly a lot of break-ins. The final straw was when I came home one day to find my window jimmied and my TV and iPod gone.”
“I think we caught that guy. Didn’t you get a call?”
“Yes, and thank goodness my TV was one of them found in his garage. That’s it.” She nodded toward the modestly sized flat-screen television hung on the wall. “My iPod didn’t show up. Which wasn’t that big a deal, but… Oh, you must hear this all the time.”
“You felt violated,” he said flatly. “Your home should be the place you feel safe. Those are pretty crummy apartments, Beth.”
“They weren’t so bad when I first moved in.”
One of his sisters and her husband had lived out there for a couple of years, moving once their baby was born. Tony had been relieved, although he, better than most, knew no place was completely secure.
Beth poured them both coffee and brought it to the living room. When she kicked off her sandals and curled her feet under her at one end of the sofa, Tony took his cue and sat at the other end. Then she looked inquiring.
“All I wanted to know was the names of your parents’ friends,” he explained. “I’d like to talk to some of them.” Maybe all, it just depended.
“Oh. Well, sure.” She made a face. “I’ve heard from several of them.”
“They called you?” Idle curiosity, or fear of what had been found?
“People are nosy, you know.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “I do know that. I’m even nosier than most.”
She laughed, looking relaxed and happy, which made him happy. In a contradiction, his desire to keep her that way set him on edge. He was already worrying about the well-being of too many people.
“Tomorrow, I’ll grab Mom and Dad’s address book,” she said. “That would have phone numbers, and everyone I forget to mention. In fact, you can take the book, as long as you promise to give it back. I don’t think Dad uses it often.”
“That would be a big help. I’d still like your impressions.” He held his pen poised above the notebook.
So she started with Debra Abernathy, who’d been divorced two or three times already when Beth had last seen her and had been good friends with Christine. “No kids,” Beth added.
Had Christine envied her several-times divorced friend because she had the freedom to date new men?
Beth came up with a list of couples that her parents had socialized with on occasion, commenting on each briefly.
“I only vaguely remember the Hartleys. I think that’s their name,” she said about the last. “I don’t think Dad liked them that much.”
“Closest friends?” he asked.
“As a couple…probably the Longleys, the Oberholtzers and the Schuhs. Maybe the Sagers, although mostly Mom and Dad went there because Mrs. Sager threw parties for every occasion.”
Mrs. Sager, she told him, managed the Verizon store at the mall. Beth wasn’t sure about Mr. Her mother had been a little disparaging about Gail Schuh because she’d never worked.
“Didn’t you tell me the Schuhs are divorced now?”
“Yes, but I don’t know when they split up or if she’s still around here.”
Tim Oberholtzer was a banker, his wife a florist. Teresa Longley was a middle school counselor; Beth hadn’t liked being assigned to her because she felt sure Teresa would report anything she did wrong to Christine. “Matt liked her,” she added, “but I don’t think she and Mom were friends when he was at the middle school.” Michael Longley was an attorney, a partner in a firm Tony had had dealings with. He particularly disliked one of the partners who handled criminal defense but didn’t recall meeting Longley. Beth thought her mother had met Michael through work, so maybe he specialized in tax law. Beth wasn’t sure about his wife.