A Sister's Place

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Ms. Moody lived not far from the University of Missouri campus in a small subdivision.  The ride up Natural Bridge Rd. went quickly, and because of our concern, neither of us felt like talking.  Pulling up at her house, we could not help but notice her well-kept yard and blooming flowers.

Grace was out of the car and at the front door while I tried to get my sore hip to cooperate with walking up the sidewalk.  Grace had rung the bell about four times when I started looking in through the windows.  I could see Ms. Moody’s purse on the sofa and her glasses were on the coffee table.  She could not drive, read, or see without those glasses.  The sight of her purse and glasses gave me a cold chill, and I used the cell phone in my hand to call 911, Grace walked over to where I was standing.  I requested a wellness check from the dispatcher who answered the call, and then Grace and I sat on the front step to wait for the police.  A few minutes later, Grace popped up and went to ring the doorbell again.  On an impulse, she opened the storm door and tried the door knob.  I stood up when I heard the door open, but Grace quickly came to my side.

“Mother, I want you to go back to the van.  Please, please don’t argue.  Let’s both of us go to the van until the police get here,” she said with tears quickly gathering in her eyes.

I could feel my eyes start to tear up because Grace had tears running freely down her cheeks.  She laid her head on my shoulder and sobbed as the police car pulled up.  Seeing us, the officers quickly got out of their car and joined us on the sidewalk.

“Officer,” Grace said to the policeman standing closest to her, “I would like to take my mother to our van while you go inside.”

Seeing us both crying, they nodded and started toward the door.  At the door, one officer turned and asked us not to leave.  We nodded and continued to the van, where I sat down and reached for tissues we keep there.  Many tears have been shed in this van. Tissues are kept wherever we work with women and their children.  We know tears are part of our grief and healing process.  I wiped Gracie’s face and then my own.

“Okay, Gracie, why are we crying?  Did you see something?” I asked while watching her struggle to speak.  Seeing an officer approaching us, she said quickly, “I saw Ms. Moody lying on the hall floor.  From the door I could see her eyes and knew she was dead.”  She finished with a sob and put her head against my forehead. 

I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t breathe.  Please, let this be a bad dream, I prayed silently.  Let me wake up and find out I have overslept.  Maybe I’m running late and this is just an awful dream.

The officer arrived at our van looking serious and all business.  He carried his writing pad. Now I knew we were, indeed, awake and beyond the door Ms. Moody was lying dead on her hallway floor.

Grace walked to the driver’s side of the van.  She sat down and took out her cell phone.  People must be notified and she didn’t want her mother to have that burden.  She decided to notify the shelter staff in person, and made her first call to June, the board president.  June should decide about the board notification.  She reached June at her office, told her where they were and what had happened.  They talked for a few minutes and June told Grace to try to get her mother to go home and rest and not to worry about the open house scheduled at the new house. All board members, volunteers and staff will attend to see the new proposed shelter. Grace had forgotten all about that event tonight, but her heart was too heavy to dress up and pretend everything was okay.

Her next call was to the shelter to check about Jamie.  All answers were No.  She had not called; they had not reached an emergency contact.  The evening shift had started and everybody was calling to check about Ms. Moody.  Grace promised to give them all an update when they returned.

Her final call was to Jeff.  He did not know Ms. Moody, but he knew how important she was to Irene.  Grace knew Jeff would want to know what had happened, since it concerned Irene.  He wanted to know if Irene was okay.  He asked how she had handled the news.  He asked what was going on at the scene and continued to ask questions as she described the scene before them.  The medical examiner’s van was pulling in now. The crime scene unit had arrived after the first police on the scene followed by two additional unmarked cars.  Jeff asked if the body had been removed, which it had not.  He was quiet for a few minutes. She could hear the sound of paper. Just as Grace got ready to end the call, Jeff asked if she and Irene were being held at the scene, or if they were free to leave.  Not sure of the reason for his question, Grace said she would go and check. Disconnecting, she went to look for the police officer that she had first spoke to on arrival.  Grace shook his hand and told him that she wanted to take her mother to rest. She was told he had to see if that was okay.

“Is there something going on here?  We assumed Ms. Moody had a heart attack.  She was on the floor and obviously dead when we arrived.  We came here because the cab company called us when she did not respond to the doorbell.  We gave our contact information and I don’t understand what else we can do at this time.” 

Grace was standing very tall and looked the uniformed officer in the eyes.  He smiled, removed his cap and wiped his forehead and neck with a large, blue handkerchief and referred her to a Detective Boyle inside with the crime scene team.  Grace smiled, but was reluctant to go inside the house.  She looked over at the van and saw that Irene was inside, door closed, leaning her head against the headrest.  Realizing that her mother was probably very tired and emotionally spent, Grace squared her shoulders, turned and started walking toward the house, just as a man in a suit came toward her, talking on a cell phone.

“Are you Irene Jefferson?” he asked while extending his hand.  “I am Detective Tom Boyle.  I just finished talking to your attorney who informed me that he will answer any future questions for you and your program.  I explained why this was taking so long.  One question:  what happened to the car in the driveway?”

“I am Grace Jefferson and my mother, Irene, is in the van resting.  She is recovering from an auto accident and she’s heartbroken about Ms. Moody.  Ms. Moody called us this morning because she had a flat tire, but she didn’t know what happened.  She saw the flat tire and went back inside to call us.  We are all like family.  She seemed somewhat confused, so Irene and I came over after the cab driver couldn’t get a response.” 

Grace turned to look at the car, giving it a close look for the first time, which required her to walk nearer.

Detective Boyle followed Grace to the car.  All four tires were flat.  When they stopped to look closely at the tires, they could see slashes 2-3 inches long on all the tires. 

“Wow,” said Detective Boyle, “this looks like a lot of anger.”  Standing, he looked closer at the marks.  “These marks were not made by a key, but something wider and thicker.  Did Ms. Moody say anything about a problem with a neighbor or anyone else?”

“You had to know Ms. Moody, Detective.  Everyone loved her.  I mean, really loved her.  She was kind and gracious with countless friends.” 

Grace could feel her tears starting again, but wanted to remain strong while talking to the officer, so there would be no reason to awaken her mother, who appeared to be still resting.

“I understand we have all your contact information, but you understand that we will need to talk to you again.  It does not appear to be a heart attack that killed her, by our preliminary checks.  We believe someone was in the house and she was dead when they left.  If this is true, I’m sure you will want to help us find this person.”

“Thank you,” Grace said as she reached for a card the detective was extending to her.  Turning, Grace tried to compose her face before reaching the van.  This was too much information for Irene tonight, and she preferred to wait until the final verdict was in as to the cause of death.

In the van, Grace saw the empty box of tissues and the full small trash can.  Irene had not just fallen asleep but had cried herself to sleep.  No shelter tonight, Grace thought, as she pulled out of the subdivision and headed the van toward Irene’s house