The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [46]
Perhaps that was Simon’s influence, Roelke thought. Or perhaps Bonnie didn’t dare bring her husband to Aunt Sonia’s for an inedible meal.
Mrs. Padopolous dug the fingers of both hands into her hair. “I think she was depressed. It can just sneak up on a person, you know.”
Roelke didn’t know. He wanted to never know. “Did you ever happen to see any uncomfortable exchanges between Bonnie and Simon? Did he ever mistreat her?”
She shook her head. “He treated her like spun gold.”
Roelke turned that tidbit over in his mind.
“Maybe some of his people were surprised that he chose to marry a farmer’s daughter, but I never was. Bonnie was a beauty, but it came from the inside. She used to run in and out of this house like it was her own, and let me tell you, she was the sunniest girl you can imagine.”
Sonia pulled a blue photograph album from a shelf, the kind with pocketed plastic sheets inside to hold pictures. She flipped to a page near the end, then pivoted the book so he could see it. “Here,” she said, tapping one snapshot. “Here’s Bonnie and Dellyn, back in the day when I was the local 4-H leader.”
Roelke stared at a fading snapshot. He recognized Dellyn in the grinning girl on the right, proudly holding a red ribbon. A lovely girl, with features similar but more defined, posed on the left with a chicken in her arms. She was beaming.
So … how had everything gone wrong? Had Bonnie struggled to live up to the expectations that came from becoming an executive’s wife? Had she struggled to gain acceptance from the women in her husband’s circles? To be a charming hostess? To make polite small talk at cocktail parties?
“She had a dazzling smile,” he said. “I expect that’s what caught her husband’s eye.”
“Likely so,” Sonia Padopolous agreed. “Dellyn has it too. She did, anyway.”
Had those last words held a touch of … what, anger, bitterness? Roelke made sure his cop-face was in place. “Dellyn hasn’t had much to smile about lately, I suppose.”
“I haven’t seen much of her since she’s been home.” Sonia pulled the album from Roelke’s hands and slid it onto the coffee table.
“Ah. Mrs. Padopolous, were you at home yesterday evening?”
“No. I was at a baby shower at my cousin’s place in Mukwonago.”
“Have you ever seen a prowler around here? Had any break-ins?”
She shook her head vehemently. “Never in all the years. But I’ll double-check my doors tonight. And I’ll stop over next door. See that Dellyn’s really all right.”
Dellyn Burke might not thank me for inspiring a carry-over, Roelke thought. “Ma’am, do you live here alone?”
“Oh, yes. But I’m quite used to it. Nothing rattles me.”
“Do you have any children? Someone you could call if you needed help?”
Sonia hesitated before turning an album page and gesturing toward another snapshot. This one showed her younger self surrounded by perhaps a dozen grinning kids. “These were my children. My 4-H family. My, we had good times!”
Which did not, Roelke thought, answer the question. “Well, ma’am, we’re just a phone call away. Please call if you see anything suspicious in the neighborhood.”
“I will,” she promised brightly. “Thank you.”
Roelke was almost to the door when he turned, smiling pleasantly. “Oh, just one more question. I couldn’t help noticing that you looked … resigned, perhaps, when you first saw me. Were you expecting trouble?” It was a shot in the dark but not, he judged, completely wild.
“Expecting trouble?” She began folding one of the towels. “Why, I can’t imagine what you mean.”
He waited. Waiting often made people uncomfortable. Often made them talk just to fill the silence.
But Sonia stayed silent. Roelke thanked her again, and let himself out.
Back in the squad car he made some notes, and then considered. He needed more information. And he knew where to get it … if Marie was ready to forgive him. He liked Marie. He admired Marie. But the woman could hold a grudge.
First, though, he had a funeral to attend.
Chloe had taken Tuesday off. When her alarm clock