Wicked Little Sins

Ethan

Ethan walked the woods by his house, smoking a cigarette as he made his way. He needed air. That house only overwhelmed him, filling his lungs with stifling dread. He had to figure out what the hell was going on, his dad was acting very odd.

Sunlight poured through the trees, filling everything up with light, leaves scampered at his feet like tiny creatures. He practiced blowing rings of smoke, lost in thought. He was nothing but consumed by his mother and her death anymore.

They couldn't just let the loss of her be the end of things. Someone purposely took her life and no one wanted to talk about it. He had called his mom's brother, Uncle Emmet. They had always been close, and even he wouldn't say much about it. He told Ethan to let it be and concentrate on laying her to rest.

As he came out of the woods, he saw the next-door neighbors out on their porch. They were busily carrying in groceries. Ethan hurried along, making his way to them. They had known him since he was a little kid playing baseball with their now grown son. If he remembered correctly, he'd gone off to college in Arizona or something.

"Morning," he said loudly.

Debbie Johnson stopped what she was doing, looking down at Ethan.

"Hey there, Ethan, how's your family?" she asked courteously. In all the years she had known the Harpers she always preferred the children to their parents.

"Oh, as good as they can be, I guess," he said. He wasn't sure how to go about asking anything.

Debbie studied Ethan's expression; he looked bothered by something.

"We were just finishing up some errands. We'll be at the funeral. Sandy was a lovely lady. I'm sorry for your loss," she said, drifting off in reflection.

"Thanks, can I ask you guys a question?" he asked.

Debbie's husband, Claude, immediately stopped and set the groceries down, waiting for Ethan to say whatever it was he was dying to spit out.

"I've been in college, so I didn't get home a lot. But did you notice anything odd around here before it happened?" he asked.

His heart pounded in his chest as these people stared at him as if he were a member of a freak show. This wasn't the response he'd expected. Feeling horribly nervous, he fished his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, lighting one up.

Being the gossip she was, Debbie was more than willing to speak her mind on Sandy and her thoughts about Sandy's murder. Claude was constantly scolding her for spying on her neighbors. Sometimes when Debbie weeded her garden, she'd peer through the slats of the fence to see what Sandy was doing in her own garden. Sandy was pleasant enough; just not overly friendly. If you weren't her friend, she didn't have a lot to say to you. Debbie tried her best to make conversation on many occasions. She had learned over the years that Ned and Sandy had their occasional argument. She also knew that once a week they'd go to Scanolli's, an Italian restaurant in town, and return home with a doggie bag.

"I didn't see her coming and going all that often anymore the last couple weeks before she died. I almost asked your father if she went to see the children. And right before I did, I seen her heading out one morning, she looked normal, but she was in a rush," Debbie said, with a nod, describing the day Sandy nearly plowed her down with her black Mercedes.

"I really wish I knew about this Sam character they talk about in the paper," Ethan remarked, looking at his house, afraid his dad would hear.

"I can tell you he's lived here his whole life, and I heard he was a patient of hers. Older man, probably your parents' age. Some people in the neighborhood know him. And he has a couple kids. Three of them." She rattled on. It was apparent to Ethan she was doing her best to find out all she could about his mom. How much was true, that was a bigger question.

"Well, thank you, Debbie. See you in a couple hours," he said, turning to leave.

"Hey, Ethan," Claude said, jogging down the steps to catch up with him. He felt sorry for the kid. He had been waiting for Debbie to shut her fat trap so he could get a word in edgewise. This never happened for him, so he decided to get him alone.

"I heard from a couple neighbors that Sam wasn't that unusual a man. He held the same job for twenty years. He's a married man, with three great kids," Claude said.

If this Sam guy was such a great man, then why would he kill his mother?

"Well, thanks, but that doesn't seem to fit the bill of a killer to me," Ethan said.

"No, but from what I hear, that little girlfriend of yours had quite the spiteful words to say about him," Claude said, pleased with his bit of information.

Ethan raised his eyebrows, thinking about Angelina. He hadn't talked to her in a while. Why would she have anything bad to say about this Sam character? He thanked Claude, heading into the house to get ready for the service.