Rosa was a pleasant, middle-aged Peruvian woman who had moved to America
not long ago. She revealed that she had gotten a job as the Willmont's
housekeeper just within the last month. She replayed the events of the last
evening, telling us that she had made dinner, then went to her room where
she had heard the argument.
"Have you ever witnessed a fight between them before?" Damien asked.
"No sir," Rosa said, "they always talk nice to each other."
Hawthorne excused her and turned to Sherlock.
"She has no reason to lie," the chief said, "she's barely a suspect."
"Barely still counts," Sherlock said with a smile, "you taught me that."
At that moment, Glenn Thomas the gardener entered the room. He immediately looked familiar to me for some reason, but I couldn't quite place him. It was just the nagging feeling that I had seen him somewhere before.
"Were you in the house last night?" Hawthorne asked.
"In and out sir," Glenn Thomas replied.
The gardener looked to be in his early thirties, with dark hair and a serious demeanor. He seemed nice enough though.
"Were you in the kitchen at any time?" Damien asked.
"Probably," the gardener said, "I was in and out and all over yesterday. I was sort of busy."
"How long have you worked here?" Hawthorne questioned.
"Coming two years," Glenn replied, "I like it here. The pay's good and I got a place to myself. Plus I got time for my own gardening. I like to raise exotic plants and insects. I keep them in one of the greenhouses."
"Did you ever witness any fights between Mr. Willmont and his son?" I spoke up.
"Well ma'am, not out right, but I don't think they were getting along very well. Dillon was getting too old to live here with his father and after Mrs. Willmont died, he never did seem happy here."
"That'll do," Hawthorne said, and Glenn Thomas left the room.
"I guess that's all we're going to get for today," Damien said and headed for the door.
I followed, still thinking hard about why I recognized the gardener. My mind turned to other more complicated things once I got back into the car.
"Come help me tonight," Damien said, "I want to go through some files."
"I can't," I said as coolly as possible, "I'm helping someone with a paper."
"Oh," Damien said with some surprise, "well, fine I guess."
Did he sound disappointed? Was I reading that into it? This was all getting very uncomfortable and very complicated. It would have been so much easier if Micah had never moved in. No, I take that back, it would be so much easier if the two of them didn't hate each other's guts. That would have made everything so much easier.
"Have you ever witnessed a fight between them before?" Damien asked.
"No sir," Rosa said, "they always talk nice to each other."
Hawthorne excused her and turned to Sherlock.
"She has no reason to lie," the chief said, "she's barely a suspect."
"Barely still counts," Sherlock said with a smile, "you taught me that."
At that moment, Glenn Thomas the gardener entered the room. He immediately looked familiar to me for some reason, but I couldn't quite place him. It was just the nagging feeling that I had seen him somewhere before.
"Were you in the house last night?" Hawthorne asked.
"In and out sir," Glenn Thomas replied.
The gardener looked to be in his early thirties, with dark hair and a serious demeanor. He seemed nice enough though.
"Were you in the kitchen at any time?" Damien asked.
"Probably," the gardener said, "I was in and out and all over yesterday. I was sort of busy."
"How long have you worked here?" Hawthorne questioned.
"Coming two years," Glenn replied, "I like it here. The pay's good and I got a place to myself. Plus I got time for my own gardening. I like to raise exotic plants and insects. I keep them in one of the greenhouses."
"Did you ever witness any fights between Mr. Willmont and his son?" I spoke up.
"Well ma'am, not out right, but I don't think they were getting along very well. Dillon was getting too old to live here with his father and after Mrs. Willmont died, he never did seem happy here."
"That'll do," Hawthorne said, and Glenn Thomas left the room.
"I guess that's all we're going to get for today," Damien said and headed for the door.
I followed, still thinking hard about why I recognized the gardener. My mind turned to other more complicated things once I got back into the car.
"Come help me tonight," Damien said, "I want to go through some files."
"I can't," I said as coolly as possible, "I'm helping someone with a paper."
"Oh," Damien said with some surprise, "well, fine I guess."
Did he sound disappointed? Was I reading that into it? This was all getting very uncomfortable and very complicated. It would have been so much easier if Micah had never moved in. No, I take that back, it would be so much easier if the two of them didn't hate each other's guts. That would have made everything so much easier.