Clare O’Donohue - The Lover’s Knot

He glanced down at the body.

"His name is Marc…," I started to say.

"We went to high school together," he interrupted without looking up at me. "You okay, ladies?"

"Jesse, dear, what happened?" asked Maggie.

Jesse put on latex gloves and moved closer, being careful not to step in the blood. He leaned over Marc. He seemed to be studying his face and hands. I could see there was a dark bruise on the side of Marc's jaw from where Ryan had hit him. But there was also a fresh cut on his cheek and scratches on his hands. The scratches had drawn blood, but they hardly seemed enough to cause death or create the pool beneath the body. Jesse grabbed Marc's shoulder and pulled it toward him. The source of the blood was immediately clear. A large pair of scissors lay under Marc's body and there was a dark wet hole in his chest. Near his body was Eleanor's favorite quilt, stained with blood.

"I think I'm going to throw up," I heard myself say. I ran down the stairs to the bathroom.

I leaned my head over the sink and waited. I waited to faint, to throw up, to burst into tears, but nothing happened. I just stood there.

Marc was dead. Not two feet from where we had been kissing, he was lying in a pool of blood.

Upstairs I heard footsteps. I heard my grandmother talking. She sounded strong and in charge. I heard her say my name. She wasn't calling to me, though. She was talking about me. But I couldn't quite hear what she was saying. As much as I didn't want to go back upstairs, I didn't want to be fragile and fall apart while my grandmother was upstairs handling things like a grown-up. I took one last deep breath and headed for the stairs.

When I walked upstairs, Marc's body was still there, only now it was being photographed. Half a dozen uniformed people were milling about, looking busy and official. In the corner, all the women of the Friday Night Quilt Club were huddled around talking with Officer Jesse. My grandmother had her hand on Natalie's arm, but Natalie didn't seem to notice. She stared straight forward as if no one else was there. Maggie and Bernie sat on either side of Susanne. Only Carrie was standing, and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off Marc. I walked over to the women, nearly tripping on a hammer that lay in the middle of the floor, several feet from Marc's toolbox.

"He wasn't a very nice person," Susanne was saying.

"Don't speak ill of the dead." Bernie leaned into her.

"Why not?" said Susanne, pointing to Jesse. "You know what he was like."

Jesse nodded.

"Are you talking about Marc?" I walked closer to them, and all heads turned me. "He was a very nice person."

"We're aware you thought so," Susanne commented dryly.

I knew my face had turned a bright red, but I tried to ignore it. I leaned toward Susanne as if I had some menacing comeback, but the truth was I didn't know what to say. I looked at my grandmother, who reached out and touched my arm. I stepped back from the group and stood there watching them gathered in their tight circle, just as they had been a week ago when we met. They were open and welcoming then, but I didn't feel any of that tonight. No one moved over to let me find a place in the circle. I felt as if I had walked up to the most popular girls in school and they were making it very clear I didn't belong. Despite my best efforts, tears started rolling down my cheeks.

Jesse turned his body fully toward me, standing directly between me and the rest of the group. For a moment he studied me, then said, "You're right, you know. Marc had his good points."

"Well, someone didn't think so, or he wouldn't be in that position, would he?" Susanne said sharply.

"I think it had to be the husband of one of his girlfriends," said Bernie. "There was that woman over in Peekskill. What was her name?"

"I don't think you need to go as far as Peekskill to come up with a suspect," Maggie said. "Besides, he just started this job. You would have to be from town to know he was going to be here tonight."

"And if you intended to kill him," Eleanor jumped in, "you would have brought your own murder weapon with you. That's a pair of my good scissors."

"But you cleared everything out of the shop. Why would your scissors be here?" Maggie asked.

"We left a box of supplies," I interjected. "In case anyone needed something at tonight's club meeting."

"That was so thoughtful of you dear," said Bernie. "You really have a knack for thinking of others. Just the way you've come up here to take care of your grandmother…"

Carrie burst into tears. "Oh my God," she muttered, never looking away from Marc's body.

Jesse cleared his throat. "Why don't you ladies go home and I'll take your statements tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do here and I need to call Marc's father and brother."

Susanne and Bernie jumped up to help Eleanor to her feet. Maggie touched Carrie lightly, and for the first time since I had come upstairs, Carrie's eyes moved away from Marc. Instead she looked toward me. But there was no kindness there, no sadness. Just a hard stare that made me feel guilty and embarrassed, without knowing why.

"I made lemon squares," Bernie said to Jesse. "I don't think we'll be eating them, so tell the other officers." She offered the wrapped plate to Jesse, who quickly unwrapped it and took a large bite out of one.

"Mrs. Avallone made lemon squares," Jesse announced, and several other officers and paramedics walked over.

"We didn't have time to make coffee," Bernie apologized to the group.

"We'll get some later." Jesse smiled at her. "It's going to be a long night. Sugar and caffeine are exactly what we need." Then he leaned over and kissed Bernie on the cheek, leaving a little imprint of powdered sugar behind.

Bernie blushed. "I'll stop in at your mother's and tell her you'll be here, working late into the night."

"Thanks. She wasn't expecting to keep Allison overnight, but she'll have to now."

"Poor little thing, she'll miss you."

"Are you kidding? They play dress-up, eat cookies, and watch movies all night. Allie much prefers the company of her grandma to her boring old dad." His smile was broad now. The dead body behind him seemed to be forgotten amid playful conversation and lemon squares.

Bernie just waved him off. "I've never seen a father and daughter closer. Lizzy would be proud."

"Excuse me," I said a little more meekly than I intended. "What about Marc?"

Jesse nodded. He finished the lemon square in two quick bites. "You're absolutely right."

"He was working on the shop," I said. "He was here in the afternoon, but when I left he said he was going to head home for a few minutes. I don't know where he lives…"

"A block from here," Jesse said. "He said he was coming back?"

"Yeah. I asked him to clean the place up before everyone came tonight." My face turned white. I'd asked him to come back and clean up. If I hadn't…

"It's not your fault, you know," Jesse said in a quiet and kind tone that finally made me see him as a police officer. He might not be the guns blazing kind you see in the movies, but anyone in trouble would be calmed by his reassuring certainty, just like I was now. "You should get out of here, take your grandmother home."

Jesse gave me a soft smile, but as I smiled back, his faded and he leaned over Marc once more.

By the time Susanne and I had gotten Eleanor out the door, Maggie and Bernie were standing down the street exchanging theories about who had a reason to hurt Marc. "Enough of a reason" was how Maggie put it. Carrie was on her cell phone filling someone in on the news. Natalie was gone. None of the other ladies had seen her leave or knew which way she went. Even her mother seemed surprised.

"Let's go home," Eleanor said wearily.