Page 45 of Poison Wood
“Is Ms. Tandy here?” I say.
I catch her glance down the hall. “Can I let her know what this is about?”
I consider lying, but I’ve already offered up the truth about who I am, so why stop there?
“It’s about Poison Wood,” I say.
“Oh my.”
“I’m a former student. I was there with Heather Hadwick.”
“Oh. My.”
“Exactly.” I smile.
She says, “Give me just a minute.”
She waddles down the hall and disappears.
I check my phone. Carl sent a text:Erin and I will be in Riverbend tomorrow.
“Holy shit,” I say out loud. Carl said they would come to Riverbend if the DNA confirmed Laura was actually Heather.
A throat clears and I look up. The blond woman is back, and with her is a tall, thin woman with straight shoulder-length silver hair.
She holds out her thin hand. “I’m Tandy Higginbottom. What can I do for you?”
“Is there somewhere we can talk?” I say.
She smiles. “Nora says you’re going to the news conference too.” I nod. “Why don’t we walk down there together. Go a little early so we can get a good seat.”
Tandy leads the way back to the sidewalk out front. She pulls a tan cashmere wrap tight across her. The wind is in our face, but it’s not as cold as in Riverbend.
“You’re a reporter,” she says.
I’m not sure if the spiky-haired woman told her my name or if Tandy recognizes me. Either way, she’s getting right to the point, which works just fine for me.
“I am.”
She glances at me. “And you attended Poison Wood?”
“I did.”
“Just awful about what was found. I’m still shook up about it.”
Her demeanor doesn’t seem shook up, though. She is poised and calm and quite far from the hysterical moniker assigned to her society by my waitress the other day. “I can imagine.”
“At least now maybe Heather Hadwick’s next of kin will have some closure.”
I keep my gaze straight ahead. Ms. Tandy’s demeanor might change at this news conference.
“What can you tell me about the recent renovations at Poison Wood?”
“I can tell you they’ve been a thorn in my side ever since we decided renovating that school for the hundred-year anniversary would be a good idea. I mean, listen, hon, we’ve wanted to do it for years, but the state kept fighting us on it. They saw money, and we saw a historical structure. I swear that woman was a dog with a bone.” She points to a building up ahead. “We’re just up here on the left.”
“What woman?” I ask. Nurse Grace had referred to the eco-tourism ladies as glamorous ex-governors.
We approach a two-story redbrick building with a green awning running the length of the front. It looks like it was once a clothing store. Nothing about it looks official, but people are streaming in the front glass doors.
