Bone Harvest - Mary Logue [86]
“Peabodys’,” she answered the phone.
“Agnes, do you remember that strange little boy I talked to?”
“Hello, dear. Nice of you to call. Which strange little boy? There’ve been so many in your life.”
“You know, after the Schuler funeral. I told you about our conversation. And you thought you knew who I was talking about.”
“Remind me a bit.”
“I asked him if he had played with the Schuler kids and he said never, that his dad didn’t want him to be a kraut lover.”
“Vaguely. What did he look like?”
This was where Harold ran into trouble. He could remember words much better than physical appearances. “He was a youngster, kinda skinny. Wearing shorts and a bow tie.”
“Oh, yes. The bow tie. That would have been Paul Lindstrom.”
“Why does the bow tie make you remember who it was?”
“I don’t know. I just remember thinking how cute he looked in his little bow tie. His mother always kept him well dressed. She rather coddled him. The father was not a very nice man, but his mother took care of the boy.”
“Paul Lindstrom. Yes, it would have been Paul Lindstrom. He still lives there in that same farmhouse that he grew up in, doesn’t he?”
“I believe so. He and his wife. A pair of odd birds. They keep to themselves. Why? What has he done?”
CHAPTER 27
Claire left Tyrone and Lowman staring over the plat map, trying to see where there was a water supply the pesticide guy could pollute. She had told them she was going out to the Lindstroms’, to call her if they came up with anything. This trip was probably a long shot. Harold Peabody had called her back, all excited about some conversation he remembered that he had had with Paul Lindstrom when Lindstrom was a little boy.
But it could pan out—Lindstrom was the right age to have played with the Schuler children, and he lived so close by. She had explained that she had already talked to the man once, but said she would go out and talk to him again. After that, she planned on driving around the farms that were close to the Schulers’. Maybe she’d see something.
When she drove up to the Lindstroms’ it looked pretty quiet. She got out of her squad car and walked up to the house. She knocked on the screen door, but no one answered. She could hear voices coming from inside, so she knocked again. Nothing. She pushed the door open and yelled inside, “Hello? Anybody home?”
The voices didn’t even pause. That was when Claire realized she was hearing a television. Maybe Mrs. Lindstrom had it on so loud that she couldn’t hear her knocking. She walked farther into the house.
The messiness of the kitchen surprised her. It wasn’t horridly messy, but dishes were strewn on the table and left in the sink. When she had been to the house before everything had been so spotless. Maybe Mrs. Lindstrom wasn’t feeling so good.
She looked into the living room, but no one was there and the television was off. She could still hear the sound of a television, and when she walked back into the kitchen, she thought it was coming from the door by the pantry.
Claire opened the door and looked down a set of stairs. The sound was obviously coming from the basement.
“Hello?” she shouted down the stairs.
No one answered.
This was all making her uneasy. Something wasn’t right here. It was lunchtime. Where were the Lindstroms? Why was the television on in the basement?
She patted her gun, then felt silly for doing it. Maybe they had gone into town and left the television running. She’d just check out the basement and leave them a note, asking them to call her when they returned.
Cautiously, she started down the basement stairs. And when she turned the corner at the bottom, she saw the television set. And then noticed there was someone sitting in a chair in front of it.
“Hello?” Claire said, but the person didn’t turn at her voice.
When she got closer, she could tell it was Mrs. Lindstrom. Her wispy brown hair was out of the curlers and hung down to her shoulders. Her head was tipped forward. Claire walked around to see her. It looked like the woman was sleeping.
When Claire reached