The neighbor looked startled at the question. “Luellyn. Luellyn Talbert. She and her husband were estranged, but I don’t think they ever officially divorced. She had nothing to do with the family.”
“Is she still alive?” Allie wasn’t sure yet why it mattered, but she needed to check off that box.
“As far as I know. The last time Thomas mentioned her, he said she was a resident at Our Home, an assisted-living facility on the other side of town. She’s been there a good many years. Maybe seven or eight.” She frowned. “Why would you want to know about Jane’s mother?”
“We want to know about anyone who may have any insights into Madison’s final weeks of life.” Allie felt confident the woman understood this but wanted to ask just to get a response.“Or who might be able to identify the couple in the photograph I showed you.”
The neighbor nodded, the vaguest of movements.
“Thank you, Mrs…?” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Gayle Fischer. My husband Frank and I live across the road.”
“Thank you for speaking with us, Mrs. Fischer,” Steve went on. “We’re doing all we can to figure this out.”
“Isn’t that the job of the police or these FBI people who’ve been coming around?” She looked suspect of Steve and Allie’s motive for being on the property.
“I’m sure both the police and the FBI appreciate any help they can get.”
She made a maybe-so face. “I’ll talk to my husband. See if he has anything to pass along.”
“Thank you,” Steve said.
Fischer, still holding on to her shotgun, loaded back into her car. Before turning the vehicle around, she took a last, long look at Allie.
When the neighbor had driven away, Allie turned to Steve. “She knows me or my parents. Her reaction to their photo was different from her reaction to the mystery couple.”
“I noticed.”
“Should we drive over and talk to her husband?” Allie’s pulse had started to race. These were people who may have known her parents. There were so many things she wanted to ask. So much she apparently needed to know.
“Not just now. We should go see Mrs. Talbert. If the FBI hasn’t interviewed her yet, we have a far better chance at learning anything she may know.”
Something else Allie liked about this man. He was really intuitive and could see the bigger picture.
He was exactly what she had needed to get through this.
Chapter Seven
Our Home
Route 14
Woodstock, 11:30 a.m.
The assisted-living facility looked nothing like Allie expected. As lovely as the wood and stone facade was, the landscaping along with the nature setting was what set it apart from the average property of its kind. The building sat back in a vast estate well off the road. Water features and living sculptures dominated the entrance. The cobblestone parking area gave the feel of a European resort.
Completely unexpected.
The lobby was a flurry of activity. With it being Sunday, there were lots of visitors. Again, the medicinal smell she’d expected was pleasantly absent.
Steve provided their names at the reception desk, and they were given visitor badges and directions to Mrs. Talbert’s room. They had no idea about her physical or mental condition, but the fact that she was in assisted living versus a more comprehensive care facility offered hope that she might be able to answer questions.
When they reached her room, which was in the Caribbean wing, Steve pressed the doorbell. Since the resident they had come to see was ninety-three, they waited patiently for ananswer rather than tapping the doorbell again after only a few moments.
Extra patience, Allie reminded herself, was sometimes necessary to reach a goal.
Steve checked his cell. Allie glanced around the corridor, appreciating the wall of windows opposite the long line of doors. Lots of sunshine and more of that purposefully manicured landscaping for the residents.
