Free Loonies by Gregory Bastianelli Page A

had not been in a church since their wedding day.
    “Yes.”
    “What’s brought that on?”
    “I heard that there’s going to be a Mass in special remembrance for the children.”
    He was confused. “Whose children?”
    Her face flushed red, and he immediately regretted asking the question.
    “The children found in our home.” He felt her distaste in the enunciation of her words.
    “Oh.” How stupid could he be?
    “You do realize they were human beings, don’t you. They weren’t just bones in a box.”
    “Of course,” he said, patting her knee. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I’ve just got so much stuff rumbling around in my head from these past couple days.”
    She stood. “You know, you’re not the only one.”
    He looked up at her and felt like a child.
    “I’m sorry, dear. Of course, we can go to the Mass.”
    “Thank you,” she said. “Now I think I will go take a look at some of these beautiful flowers. I’ll see you back at home later.”
    “Yes,” he said, and then added, “I’m not sure when.”
    “Of course,” she said, and walked away.
    Brian left the garden tour knowing that he wasn’t going to stop at any of the other houses. Mrs. Picklesmeir be damned. There were more important things to spend his time on. He walked back to Main Street, stopping at the convenience store for a small purchase that he shoved in his camera bag. His next stop was the police, and Wanda greeted him when he walked in.
    “Noah in?” he asked, though he could see the chief through the glass window of his office. Noah looked up and waved him in.
    Brian dropped into the chair in front of the chief’s desk, noticing the ashen appearance of Noah’s face and assuming that something was wrong.
    “I know it was arson,” Brian said, taking a guess. “I already talked to Fire Chief Shives.”
    Noah looked up, with an expression that said he wasn’t paying attention to Brian. Then he nodded. “Yeah, well, there wasn’t much doubt about that. They found a couple gas cans at the scene.”
    “Then what’s the look for?”
    Noah met his gaze. “Just got off the phone with Capt. Steem. He heard from the county medical examiner.”
    “And?” Brian leaned forward.
    “Dr. Wymbs didn’t die in the fire.” The chief paused for reaction. Brian had none. “The doctor was already dead. It’s been ruled a homicide. Steem’s in charge of the investigation, of course.” Noah ran his hand through his sandy hair and blew out a deep breath.
    “Murdered,” was all Brian could come up with. “Did he say how?”
    “Strangled,” Noah said. “With his own bow tie.”
    “Wow,” Brian said. “The fire must have been set to cover it up.”
    Noah stood and paced behind his desk, pausing to look out his window to the street beyond. “There hasn’t been a murder in Smokey Hollow since.…” He didn’t finish, just shook his head.
    Brian finished it for him. “Since someone stuffed five little babies into a steamer trunk?”
    Noah’s head turned sharply toward him. “We don’t know what that was yet.”
    Brian stood as well. “How else did they end up there?” He took his camera out of his case. “Let me show you something.” He scrolled through his pictures, past the shots of people admiring the flowers on the house on Cricket Lane, till he got to the one of the crowd of onlookers at the fire scene. He showed it to the chief. “See that woman there?” he said, pointing to the woman standing off to the side. “Do you know her?”
    Noah examined it for a moment, and then shook his head. “Doesn’t look familiar.”
    “That’s Ruth Snethen.”
    Noah’s eyes widened. “She was at the fire?”
    “Yes, watching the place burn to the ground. And none of us knew she was there.”
    The chief sat down. “Steem has had no luck trying to find her.”
    “All he had to do was turn around.”
    “Why was she there?”
    “Very good question,” Brian said. “Watching her former place of employment