Chapter Six: Peanuts

Jane and Laura arrived upstairs to find Penny playing on her bedroom floor.

As soon as the little girl saw them, she stood up, ambled over to her mother, and wordlessly wrapped her skinny arms around the woman's waist.

The hug only lasted a few seconds; then Penny wandered back into her room, resuming her silent game of galloping tiny plastic horses in circles across the white carpet.

Jane and the widow walked a short distance down the hallway, where they could speak in private. Jane liked the spot because he could see into the bathroom and the master bedroom, too.

The bathroom was a mess – wet towels bunched up on the floor, laundry overflowing from the lidded hamper.

The bedroom was neat, but dark. Thick magenta curtains had been pulled across the windows, no light allowed in. Jane saw a large bed and a fireplace with a brass screen in front. He had to squint to make out a bottle of cologne on what must have been Paul's bedside table.

There was still a faint whiff of it in the air – something musky and animal-based that Paul had probably started wearing in his late teens to impress some girl. A geek, trying to look like something else.

Jane watched Laura, watching her daughter play.

"She looks like her father," he commented.

Laura smiled a little. "She has his eyes – and the hair, of course."

Jane cocked his head, studying her. "You still love him."

She didn't deny it. "He's the father of my child. My first husband and my first love. I don't think anyone ever fully stops loving their first love."

"Maybe not," Jane conceded. "Do you think he killed Paul?"

Laura blinked. "What, Jeff?"

"He's been arrested."

The widow was already shaking her head. She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper for the benefit of the little girl down the hall. "No, no way. It's not possible. Jeff could never kill anyone…"

"He's a soldier," Jane pointed out. "So he could."

Laura's eyes darkened. "That's different. Killing in self-defense, or in defense of your country is one thing. But whoever killed my husband just…killed him." Her lips trembled. "There wasn't a fight or a struggle. It was cold-blooded…And that's not Jeff."

"You seem very sure of that."

She nodded. "I am."

"What's the one reason, above all, that makes you so sure?"

"Penny," Laura answered at once. "Jeff…whatever issues he's going through right now, he loves his daughter. He would never put her through this."

"Hmm. That was the reason Jeff gave, too, when we were questioning him today. Well, Penny, and you."

"But you don't believe him…"

"Actually, I do. Which means I have to look elsewhere for your husband's killer. Which brings us to this – " Jane reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small bronze token. He held it out for Laura to see. "Paul was carrying this when he was murdered."

Laura took the token from Jane. Her eyes glossed over as she looked down at the twinkling metal. "Yes, Paul was…He was very proud of his sobriety."

"Ten years is a long time," Jane commented.

"Yes, it is…"

"So, when did he fall off the wagon?"

Laura's jaw dropped. "I – he…" She looked at the gleaming bronze one last time before closing it in her fist. When she met Jane's eyes, her shoulders seemed to deflate. "How did you know?"

"Peanuts," Jane told her matter-of-factly.

She frowned. "Peanuts?"

"Peanut shells, actually. The bottoms of your husband's shoes were covered in them. And there's only one establishment in town that lets you throw the shells on the floor – Lucky's Tavern. So, when did it start? The drinking?"

Laura sighed. "About three weeks ago…I almost couldn't believe it – he'd always been so adamant about staying away from the stuff…" She laughed tearfully. "He wouldn't even eat rum balls. And then all of a sudden, out of the blue, he starts drinking? Not just the occasional Bud Light, either – real drinking. Whiskey, vodka, shot after shot, like he was trying to lose himself…"

Laura looked up at Jane, stricken. "I'd never seen him like that before, you know? He was a different person. He was…"

"Violent?" Jane asked.

She shook her head adamantly. "No, never. It wasn't like that."

"What was it like, then?"

"He just…got sad. Paul was a happy soul, most of the time. Mr. Silver Lining. But when he started drinking, he would only talk about the bad things. A few times, he even cried. Sobbed like his heart was breaking in two, and there was nothing I could do to comfort him."

"And he wouldn't tell you what started the binge, even though you confronted him about it more than once," Jane guessed.

"He just told me he was sorry, said he needed some time to pull himself together. And I know he would have, if…if he'd gotten the chance…" Now Laura was the one who sounded like her heart was breaking in two. She put a hand up over her face.

"What were the bad things that he talked about, when he was sad?"

Laura sniffled, scrubbing fresh wetness from her eyes. "Oh, mostly he talked about his sister, Megan…"

"The one who died young?"

"Yes, that's right. It was a hit and run. Paul saw it happen…"

Jane chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Hmm…Did he mention anything else?"

"His parents dying…Jeff not being around for Penny lately…That's all, I think – " She frowned suddenly, remembering. "No, wait…he did speak about the accidents at work a few times, too."

Jane raised his eyebrows. "Accidents? At Durenko?"

"Not at the actual company," Laura clarified. "But there have been a few crashes involving their vehicles. One little girl died…I think it reminded him of Megan."

"How recently did these crashes happen?"

"Oh, the first was about four months ago, and the other two, a month or so after that. But it's nothing to do with what Paul does – " She caught herself, swallowing roughly. "With what Paul did. He was just tech support. A geek through and through, my Paul…" Laura tried to smile, but her shaky lips couldn't quite manage it.

Jane remained silent, letting the new information marinate. He was now quite convinced that neither Jeff Cardelli, nor Laura Jorsten, were guilty of murder, and that neither of them even knew anything significant about the crime. The Durenko accidents might be something, but that would have to be explored separately. He'd gotten all he could from the widow.

Jane cleared his throat, snapping the woman's attention back from where it had settled once again: on the little girl in the room down the hall.

Laura blinked, refocusing on Jane.

"Well, thanks for your time." He flashed her a brief smile. "I expect you'll be hearing from – "

Jane was cut off by the doorbell chiming.

"That must be the lawyer…" Laura heaved a sigh and stared wearily at the stairs, as though she had forgotten exactly what they were. "I should…I should go get that…"

Jane reached out and placed a hand on her arm. He spoke to her in his best soft-yet-commanding tone: "Laura, it's late. You're exhausted. Tell him to come back tomorrow."

"That might be a good idea…" Her eyes wandered back to Penny.

"I can stay with her while you talk to him. Go," Jane urged. He nodded toward the stairway.

Laura watched him uncertainly for another moment. Then the doorbell rang again, more insistently, and she came to a decision. "Yes, I think I will just tell him to come back. It's ridiculous to start all that paperwork now. I haven't even started Penny's dinner yet…A-are you sure you don't mind watching her?"

Jane smiled. "Not at all."

Laura's eyes shone with gratitude. "Thank you…She just doesn't like to be alone. I'll only be a minute…" And she started down the hall, toward the staircase.

Jane watched her go, feeling extra-pleased with himself. He hadn't done a single thing to get himself yelled at, punched in the nose, or thrown off the property.

Lisbon was going to be so proud.