was presumably still March 21, 1959, he took some time to think.
CHAPTER 4: MARY BETH
Friday, June 2, 2017
Mary Beth poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered about thirty feet from the kitchen to a cozy reading room that faced Geoffrey Bell's backyard. She liked quiet spaces like this because they allowed her to relax, set her troubles aside, and concentrate on things that mattered.
She sat down on a love seat, placed her cup on a coffee table, and gazed across the room at a large paned window. She admired the window – a restored, weatherized version of the original – almost as much as the wicker furniture and the seashell-themed paper that covered the walls.
Mary Beth glanced at her cell phone, noted the time of eight o'clock, and curled into her seat. If she did nothing else on the second-to-last day of her rainy California vacation, she would enjoy an exquisite cup of French roast, relish a rare moment of peace, and ponder her future.
She didn't worry much about professional fulfillment. She knew she would enter the medical school at the University of Alabama at Birmingham in seven weeks, begin a series of degree programs and residencies, and emerge from the chaos as a capable surgeon.
Whether she would emerge as a happy woman was an open question. Mary Beth had never imagined life without Jordan, the boy she had dated since the eleventh grade. Now that he was gone, she refused to take the long view of anything. She measured happiness in terms of good days and bad. The distant future was a murky swamp she was not yet ready to explore.
Mary Beth retrieved her cup, took a sip, and placed the cup back on the table. The coffee was hot, piping hot, unlike the weather of the past seven days. A storm front had brought a week of cool air and rain to Southern California and forced the McIntire family to seek refuge in museums and shopping malls instead of amusement parks and beaches.
Brody and Colleen had adjusted well to the weather. So had Mary Beth. Each had enjoyed the J. Paul Getty Museum, the California Science Center, and the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.
Piper was another matter. She had moped all week about the gray skies, chilly winds, and persistent drizzle. She insisted that a Los Angeles vacation was not complete without a visit to the beach, Disneyland, and Dodger Stadium. She had spent a disproportionate part of the week reading mysteries in the antique-filled bedroom the Bells had provided her.
Mary Beth started to reach for her coffee again but stopped when she heard someone open an outside door. She knew it couldn't be her sister. Piper didn't rise before ten unless she had to.
Mary Beth knew it couldn't be her parents either. They were in Beverly Hills attending a lecture on investment opportunities. Unless the Bells had returned home a day early, someone else was moving about their property. Did they employ a groundskeeper? Mary Beth picked up her phone, got up from the love seat, and stepped toward the window.
She reached the window a few seconds later, peered through the rain-streaked glass, and scanned the yard. She saw nothing of interest. Then just that quickly a man wearing a white button-down shirt and cuffed gray slacks walked into view. If he was a groundskeeper, he didn't look the part. He looked more like a college student from the 1950s.
Mary Beth dialed Geoffrey Bell's cell-phone number, tapped on the glass, and glared at the man, who was almost certainly a trespasser. She pressed the phone to her ear, waited for Bell to answer, and pointed at the man when he looked at her. She wanted him to know that she had seen him and was in the process of checking him out.
Mary Beth frowned when Bell did not pick up the call and panicked when the trespasser, who appeared startled and frightened, ran toward the house and down a stairway that led to the basement. She felt her stomach drop when she heard the basement door slam.
She started to leave a message but ended her call when
CHAPTER 4: MARY BETH
Friday, June 2, 2017
Mary Beth poured herself a cup of coffee and wandered about thirty feet from the kitchen to a cozy reading room that faced Geoffrey Bell's backyard. She liked quiet spaces like this because they allowed her to relax, set her troubles aside, and concentrate on things that mattered.
She sat down on a love seat, placed her cup on a coffee table, and gazed across the room at a large paned window. She admired the window – a restored, weatherized version of the original – almost as much as the wicker furniture and the seashell-themed paper that covered the walls.
Mary Beth glanced at her cell phone, noted the time of eight o'clock, and curled into her seat. If she did nothing else on the second-to-last day of her rainy California vacation, she would enjoy an exquisite cup of French roast, relish a rare moment of peace, and ponder her future.
She didn't worry much about professional fulfillment. She knew she would enter the medical school at the University of Alabama at Birmingham in seven weeks, begin a series of degree programs and residencies, and emerge from the chaos as a capable surgeon.
Whether she would emerge as a happy woman was an open question. Mary Beth had never imagined life without Jordan, the boy she had dated since the eleventh grade. Now that he was gone, she refused to take the long view of anything. She measured happiness in terms of good days and bad. The distant future was a murky swamp she was not yet ready to explore.
Mary Beth retrieved her cup, took a sip, and placed the cup back on the table. The coffee was hot, piping hot, unlike the weather of the past seven days. A storm front had brought a week of cool air and rain to Southern California and forced the McIntire family to seek refuge in museums and shopping malls instead of amusement parks and beaches.
Brody and Colleen had adjusted well to the weather. So had Mary Beth. Each had enjoyed the J. Paul Getty Museum, the California Science Center, and the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.
Piper was another matter. She had moped all week about the gray skies, chilly winds, and persistent drizzle. She insisted that a Los Angeles vacation was not complete without a visit to the beach, Disneyland, and Dodger Stadium. She had spent a disproportionate part of the week reading mysteries in the antique-filled bedroom the Bells had provided her.
Mary Beth started to reach for her coffee again but stopped when she heard someone open an outside door. She knew it couldn't be her sister. Piper didn't rise before ten unless she had to.
Mary Beth knew it couldn't be her parents either. They were in Beverly Hills attending a lecture on investment opportunities. Unless the Bells had returned home a day early, someone else was moving about their property. Did they employ a groundskeeper? Mary Beth picked up her phone, got up from the love seat, and stepped toward the window.
She reached the window a few seconds later, peered through the rain-streaked glass, and scanned the yard. She saw nothing of interest. Then just that quickly a man wearing a white button-down shirt and cuffed gray slacks walked into view. If he was a groundskeeper, he didn't look the part. He looked more like a college student from the 1950s.
Mary Beth dialed Geoffrey Bell's cell-phone number, tapped on the glass, and glared at the man, who was almost certainly a trespasser. She pressed the phone to her ear, waited for Bell to answer, and pointed at the man when he looked at her. She wanted him to know that she had seen him and was in the process of checking him out.
Mary Beth frowned when Bell did not pick up the call and panicked when the trespasser, who appeared startled and frightened, ran toward the house and down a stairway that led to the basement. She felt her stomach drop when she heard the basement door slam.
She started to leave a message but ended her call when
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