My Killer Vacation

I’m cut off once again when the weeping woman stumbles into the house. Using the wall to support herself, she takes one step into the living room, followed by two more, then falls boneless to the couch on our left. My eyes are welled up now and on the verge of spilling, just imagining her grief. If I lost my brother, I wouldn’t know up from down. “I’m so sorry for your terrible loss,” I offer.

Her attention zips to mine and…

I don’t want to. But I notice that her eyes are dry.

Everyone experiences grief differently. Paging Amanda Knox. I’m not judging. I just make an entirely casual, non-judgmental mental notation. A cactus could thrive on those arid cheeks.

“Do you mind telling me your name, ma’am?” Wright prompts her.

“Lisa. Lisa Stanley.” She pins me and Jude with a look. “Who are you?”

“I’m Taylor Bassey. This is my brother, Jude. We were staying here. Or supposed to be staying here, rather. But we…found Oscar right after we arrived.”

“Oh. Well, I’m so sorry my dead brother ruined your vacation,” she snaps. Before I can rush to reassure her that we’re not complaining, her face crumples. “I’m sorry, I’m just…I don’t mean to be unkind. I just can’t believe this is happening. They say he was shot! Who would shoot my brother? He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. No enemies…”

No one says anything. But Wright obviously missed poker face training at the academy, because he looks ready to explode.

“What?” asks Lisa, spine straightening. “What is it?”

The world’s most uncomfortable conversation ensues while Wright tells Lisa about the confrontation with the renter’s father over the peepholes and camera. When he’s finished giving the details, Lisa stares off into space. “Why wouldn’t he tell me he’d gotten beat up?”

“Probably embarrassed, considering the circumstances.” With a sigh, Wright hands us his card and stands up. “Let me know if you think of anything else. If you’re looking for a place to hang your hat for the night, there’s a DoubleTree in Hyannis. Pool is decent.”

“Thanks,” Jude says, taking the card. As soon as Wright has left through the front door, my brother stands. “I’ll go call the DoubleTree.”

“No need to do that,” Lisa interjects quickly, seeming to catch herself off guard. When we only stare at her blankly, she digs in her purse and takes out a large assortment of keys crammed together on a ring. “My brother owns three other rentals on this block. I schedule maintenance for him. Inspect the premises before new renters arrive. Etcetera. I was late getting here to double check this place or I would have found him.” She lets out a long exhale. “He is…was…pretty hands-off with the whole business. A normal guy. Used to deliver mail for a living, before he got into real estate. God love him, my brother was lazy. He delegated. That’s why…” She shakes her head a little. “It just doesn’t make sense. Oscar wouldn’t spy on people.”

“No. It doesn’t make sense,” I blurt, before I can stop myself.

“Taylor,” Jude says out of the corner of his mouth. “Pump the brakes.”

“It’s her brother,” I whisper back. “I would want to know everything.”

“I love you, but please don’t get involved in a murder investigation.”

“I’m not getting involved. I’m just passing along some specifics.”

“Textbook involvement.”

Lisa drops down in front of us on the coffee table, occupying the spot where Wright once sat. Elbows on her knees, she leans forward, and up close, I can see the physical similarities she shares with Oscar. Both in their fifties. Slightly hooked noses. High foreheads. Graying hair. But Lisa is more on the petite side, while her brother was…

“Too big. Oscar was way too big to fit into that crawl space.”

Lisa’s antenna goes up. “The crawl space where you found the peepholes?”

“That’s right.” I ignore Jude’s groan. “No way he could have gotten up there.”

“He could have used a ladder, T.” My brother joins the conversation with nothing short of reluctance, adding, “Hypothetically, of course,” for Lisa’s benefit. “It would have been pretty easy to drill those holes from either side. And he didn’t need to get inside the crawl space. All he had to do was slide in the camera.”

“Yes. If he never intended to look through the holes.” For a single, fleeting moment, I feel like SVU’s Olivia Benson. All I need is the overcoat, fathomless brown eyes and Stabler by my side looking broody and fine. “Why did he drill two of them?” I split a look between my brother and Lisa. “Those holes were drilled for the express purpose of a person looking through them. If Oscar—hypothetically—only wanted to film his guests, he would have needed a single hole. Not two.”

Jude frowns down at his hands for a moment. “You’re right. At the very least, it’s odd.”