Lane remembered that when her oldest child, Jake, was little, he’d fallen and hit the back of his head on the corner of her in-laws’ concrete patio.  Head wounds bleed like crazy.  She still had blood on her hands.  Make no mistake here, she thought, “The blood was literal and not figurative.  She had N O T H I N G to do with the death.”  She knew Ben would get things straightened out and she’d get out of this interview room.  He’d take care of her.  He’d done it before and he’d do it now.

“When did you see the deceased?”

“As soon as I entered the restroom.”

Detective Crane still had her eyes on Ben, but it was Lane she spoke to. “Tell me what you saw when you entered the room.”

“I saw her lying on the tiled floor, next to the sinks, as soon as I entered the room.  She was on her stomach, on the tile, with her head facing the wall.”  Lane held her hands in the air and turned her head to mimic the way the body had appeared on the floor.

“What did you do when you saw the body?”

“I went to her and felt for a pulse. I didn’t feel one so I turned her over, and found the gash on her temple. I was about to get help when the other woman came in and started screaming.  You know the rest.”

The detectives looked at her as Hunter said, “We have identified the deceased.”

So, that should be a good thing Lane thought.  God willing, unlike the last time, it would be someone she didn’t even know and she had no reason to kill.

“Her name is Carol Anne Woods,” Crane said.

Then, still watching Ben, she opened a file folder and pushed two pictures across the table.  Both pictures were of Carol Anne.  One was taken in the restroom at the Club and the other appeared to be have been taken in the autopsy room.  Lane looked at Ben.  He patted her hand once.

“My client told me she thought she recognized the deceased.”

“How well did you know the deceased, Mrs. Parker?” Again Crane hadn’t taken her eyes off Ben as she talked.

“We were acquaintances.  I’d met her once or twice at social events.”

“You hadn’t spoken to her since she moved to Denver?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Heck, Lane was pretty sure she hadn’t spoken more than 50 words to her… ever.  They had met at a fund raiser for a new Catholic high school.  Lane had been recruited by one of the board members as a volunteer and Carol Anne was there with Ben.  It was probably a week or two before the break-up and maybe three months before Carol Anne left for Denver. It was a Friday evening in the summer.

~~~

The fund raiser was a carnival and was held in the gym and the parking lot of the Church that both Lane and Ben attended.  Lane was manning the duck booth.  The game that has little plastic ducks floating around in a moat with numbers on the bottom of them.  You pay two dollars each or get three for five dollars and make your selections.  Then, based on the number on the bottom of the duck, you select a prize.

Lane looked up after placing a big prize duck back in the moat, saw Ben at the ring toss booth, and waved. A couple of minutes later, he brought over a dozen kids from the little league team he coached and dropped a fifty dollar bill on the table.  Lane explained to the kids how it worked, and each of them grabbed two ducks and waited patiently… well as patiently as six and seven year olds can, while she checked each duck and they claimed their prizes.  The kids wandered off leaving Ben and the woman.

Until that moment, Lane had thought the woman was the mother of one of the kids.  She then realized the woman was Ben’s date.  He made introductions.  Lane smiled and reached to shake the other woman’s hand as she said that she’d heard Carol Anne’s show on the radio and what a pleasure it was to meet her. Carol Anne had a limp handshake. On the radio she had a sultry seductive voice as she talked about love and relationships.  In person not so much, as she said, “So, you’re the woman Ben talks about so much.”

Lane had gotten another surge of kids who wanted ducks, so Ben asked what time things wrapped up and Lane agreed to meet them at her favorite barbecue restaurant when she’d finished at the carnival.  She remembered it was late August, and it was hot. Carol Anne was wearing a light blue sundress with little white embroidered flowers with white, wedge heeled espadrilles.   As they walked away, Carol Anne put her arm through Ben’s and grabbed his hand.  Lane remembered thinking it was less a loving gesture and more like she was marking her territory.  She smiled now, remembering how ridiculous she thought it was at the time.

~~~

“Mrs. Parker, is there anything you’d like to add,” Detective Hunter asked.

Lane shook her head slightly. “Nothing I can think of.”

Ben gave Lane’s hand a squeeze, looked at the detective, and asked, “Are you cutting my client loose, or are you going to charge her with something?”

“We’re not charging her at this time, but we’re going to need her shoes and clothes, Counselor,” Lila Crane said.

Lane looked at Ben, thinking, at first in a panic, “They want my clothes?” And then calmer, “Ah of course, they wanted to check for blood spatter patterns.  Yes, I have read way too many crime novels.” Actually Lane usually read between three and five books a week, all crime and mystery.  The fact was that there was no blood spatter in the room where she’d found Carol Anne.  There was just Carol Anne, on the floor, with a gash on her temple.  If they wanted her clothes they could have them.  Lane’s suit and shoes were ruined anyway.

Ben opened his brief case and produced a zip lock bag containing a T-shirt, yoga pants, flip-flops, and fresh underwear. Lane wondered how Ben had known to bring clothes and then realized that it must have been Jess’s work.  She followed a female uniformed officer to a room where she’d been directed to step onto a tarp and told to remove her shoes and clothes. The uniformed officer and Detective Crane then carefully bagged and tagged the items. Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to her that she’d have to strip in front of strangers.  Lane wasn’t embarrassed, even though she eventually stood there naked.  She’d birthed three children, and with her youngest she had labored over 12 hours.  It felt like everyone in the metropolitan Omaha area had come into the room during those 12 long hours.  Besides, she was nearing 50 and still had the body of a 35 year old.  It felt surreal, like someone else was disrobing, stepping off the tarp, and then dressing again, but she wasn’t embarrassed.

They walked back to the interview room where Ben waited.  Crane jerked her head toward Ben. “Your client’s free to go.  Just see to it that she doesn’t leave town.”

Client and Attorney walked through the squad room, accompanied by Detective Crane, and made their way to the lobby where Lane’s daughter, Jess, waited.  Jess jumped up and hurried to her mother as Lane and Ben passed from the secured area.  Hugs were exchanged as Lane whispered into Jess’s ear, “Let’s talk outside.”  Call her paranoid, but she’d read enough crime novels and seen enough crime TV to know there is no expectation of privacy in a police station.  No matter what she had to say, she didn’t want to say it within ear shot of the Overland Park Police.  Ben and Detective Crane were saying what seemed to be polite goodbyes as mother and daughter left the building.

They walked toward the parking lot and the safety of Lane’s Cadillac Escalade.  Jess, who had her mother’s purse, began rummaging through it.  “I’m sure you have some hand sanitizer in here, Felix.”

Jess, who had nicknames for everyone in the family, had called her mother Felix for years now referring to the cleanliness freak in the Neil Simon play The Odd Couple.  Jess brought out the keys and clicked the remote to unlock the doors. She began walking toward the passenger door.