Page 73 of Jar of Hearts
“Dan,” his wife says, but her voice is weak. She’s not disagreeing.
At this point, secretly, Kaiser doesn’t disagree, either.
26
The Willows is a pretty name for a group of run-down trailers in a clearing off Highway 99. There are about four dozen of them in various sizes, all white, all dirty, propped up on two-by-fours. In the middle of the trailer park are a handful of wood picnic tables and a run-down play center for kids, complete with a broken swing set and a cracked slide. The place is depressing, and despite the name, there’s not a willow tree in sight.
Emily Rudd’s biological great-grandmother lives in a trailer at the back of the park, indistinguishable from the rest, save for four rose bushes not currently in bloom. Kaiser imagines they’ll look quite beautiful in the spring. Stepping up onto the cracked wood porch, he knocks on the door.
An elderly woman answers. Round and bosomy, she appraises him through the chipped screen. Her fluffy hair is mostly white with a few specks of black, her blue floral-print housedress clean and pressed. Reading glasses hang around her neck, attached to a string of tiny seashells.
“Can I help you?” she says through the screen.
Kaiser holds up his badge. “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am. I’m looking for Caroline Robinson.”
“You’ve found her.”
He blinks, surprised. Emily Rudd appeared to be white, as didher biological mother, so Kaiser assumed that Sasha’s grandmother would be white, too. But the woman standing in front of him is black, her skin the color of coffee with a few drops of cream. Serves him right for making assumptions.
“I’m Detective Kaiser Brody, Seattle PD. I’m here to talk to you about Sasha.”
The woman’s eyes narrow. She has to be in her mid-eighties, but he has the feeling that she’s sharp as a tack. “What are you accusing her of now?”
It’s an interesting way to phrase the question. As the grandmother of a drug addict, Kaiser might have expected a more weary response. But the woman is on already on Sasha’s side. Which will make the death notification even harder.
“Not a thing, ma’am,” he says. “Can I come in?”
“Then she’s dead?” Caroline Robinson’s voice is steady, but the screen door jiggles a bit.
He would have preferred to tell her inside, but she’s not giving him a choice. “Yes, ma’am, she is. I’m so sorry.”
“Come in.” She opens the screen door.
Kaiser steps into the trailer, which turns out to be larger than it looks from the outside. The entryway is between the kitchen and the living room, marked by a colorful doormat that readsWELCOMEin bold letters. The kitchen is light blue, the cabinets painted white with clear plastic knobs. Floral curtains hang at the window, and potted wildflowers brighten up the small round table, which could comfortably seat three; four if you squished. Appliances are circa the early 1980s, but pristine. The living room is pale yellow, the brown carpet frayed but spotless. It’s sparsely decorated with a plaid sofa bed and wooden coffee table, a thirty-two-inch flat-screen TV on the console.Ellenis on, but the volume’s been muted. At the back of the trailer are two bedrooms.
It’s as nice a trailer as Kaiser has ever seen. The smell of fresh coffee permeates the space, and he spies a fresh pot on the counter.
“Would you like a cup?” Mrs. Robinson asks, following his gaze. “I know it’s the afternoon, but it’s my one vice.”
“We have that in common,” Kaiser says. “And I would love one, thank you.”
She pours for them both, then gestures to the counter where she’s laid out cream and sugar. He declines both, and waits while she fixes her coffee and then settles herself at the small table.
“What happened to my granddaughter?” she asks after they’ve both taken a sip.
Kaiser senses Caroline Robinson is the kind of woman who’s been through a lot, and can handle a lot, and would prefer no sugarcoating, only the truth. He won’t insult her by giving her anything less.
“Sasha’s body was found early this morning, buried in a shallow grave in the woods behind St. Martin’s High School.”
“Buried?” She frowns. “I don’t understand. I assumed it was an overdose. She’s been clean for over six months, but drug addiction is a wicked thing, Detective.”
Kaiser nods. “We’ll be checking for drugs in her system, but for now, it looks like she was murdered.”
A sharp intake of breath. “How?”
“Strangled.” He pauses, then says, “Her biological daughter was found with her. Also strangled.”
Caroline Robinson’s head snaps up. “Emily’s dead?”
