Ambush (Michael Bennett #11)(54)

The light changed.

When I pulled to the curb in front of the Kanes’ split-level home, the first thing I noticed was that their house had gone from run-down-but-on-the-mend to just run-down. The wheelbarrow I’d noted on my last visit still sat on the side of the driveway, but it was now rusted. The dirt that had been piled next to it had vanished with the winter winds and summer rain. Since Kane had just died, the downward trend wasn’t because a widow was overwhelmed. It looked like Kane had been busy elsewhere.

Or maybe he’d given up.

The only positive note to the general dreariness was a gray Mercedes-Benz parked on the driveway as far from the wheelbarrow as possible, as if rust were contagious.

I turned off the engine and moved Clyde to his air-conditioned crate in the back. The Kanes had a pit bull, and I didn’t want to rock anyone’s boat. As I walked up the drive, I did some quick math. Sherri had been eight months pregnant the last time I’d seen her. Their second child would now be five months old. Their oldest, Haley, was three or four.

From the backyard, the pit bull unleashed a volley of barks. I glanced over my shoulder at Clyde. He was watching out the window, no doubt ready to break through it if the dog came after me. I gave him a thumbs-up. He kept watching.

The pit bull cranked up the barks.

I rang the bell. I waited a few minutes, then rang again. I wondered if Sherri could hear the bell over the barking. Then the dog fell silent, and the tread of footsteps sounded on the other side of the door.

The woman who answered was twenty-five years older than Sherri, but otherwise looked much like her. Her chin-length bob was bright silver, her casual but fashionable clothes impeccably tailored. She had a ring on her left hand with a diamond the size of a small country.

Sherri’s mother, I assumed. The owner of the Mercedes.

I said, “My name is Sydney Parnell. I’m a friend of the family. Is Sherri at home? I’d like to express my condolences.”

The woman’s face was a perfect blank. On closer inspection, I saw that her lipstick was smeared and her mascara had flaked.

“Sorry, who?” she asked.

“A friend of the family.”

“Oh. All right.” She unlatched the door and waved me in. I stepped into the living room, which was empty of furniture and filled with moving boxes.

She closed the door behind me, then came to life slowly, as if her battery had just reached enough capacity for her to function.

“Sherri is changing Megan’s diaper,” she said. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

“Thank you. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh. I’m Sherri’s mother, Krystal.” She blinked a few times. “Would you like some coffee? We’ve got muffins, too. Blueberry.”

“Coffee would be great,” I said.

I followed her down a hall stacked with more cardboard boxes and into the kitchen. Here, someone had clearly been hard at work, scrubbing away all semblance of dirt. Many of the cupboard doors stood open, the shelves empty. More boxes were stacked in the corner.

“Is Sherri moving?” I asked. Master of the obvious.

“She and the girls are coming home to her father and me,” Krystal said. She pointed toward the table. “Please, sit down. Do you take cream and sugar?”

“Black, please.”

She set a mug of steaming coffee in front of me along with a buttered muffin.

“I have coffee cake, if you’d rather. The neighbors have been bringing food. I’m sure they mean well. But it’s just too much.”

“The muffin is wonderful.”

“I’m sorry it’s so hot in here. We offered to help Sherri and Jeremy with air-conditioning.” She stopped and blinked at the moisture in her eyes. “But Jeremy . . . that boy had too much pride.”

“I know this is a terrible shock.”

She looked at me and frowned. The battery hit 100 percent capacity, and the skin around her pale eyes tightened. Maybe it was the dog hair on my pants.

“How did you say you know the family?”

At that moment, Sherri walked into the kitchen carrying a baby. The baby was round and soft, with wide eyes and a pink hair band holding back her soft frizz of hair. She smelled of talcum powder. Hard on Sherri’s heels was her first child, Haley. Haley had been zoned out on cartoons the last time I’d seen her, but now she was as wide eyed and alert as her sister, staring at me from behind her mother’s leg.

Sherri herself looked like she hadn’t slept since she got the news. Her eyes and the tip of her nose were red. The rest of her was white as a sheet. She saw me and managed to muster a little outrage.

“You,” she said.

“Sherri?” her mother asked. “She said she’s a friend of the family.”

I stood. “I’m so sorry for what happened, Sherri. I came to see if I could do anything to help.”

Sherri’s anger whooshed out of her like air from a popped balloon. She handed the baby to her mother and sank into the chair across from me. When Haley climbed into her lap, Sherri absently wrapped her arms around the girl. Haley studied me with her father’s intent gaze and blue eyes. She had his red hair, as well. Kane must have loved that.

“Mommy, can I have a blueberry muffin?” Haley asked.

Without waiting for permission, I slid my untouched plate across the table. Haley smiled at me.