The Mystery of Lot 3

I used to have two neighbors I call D and S. Back in October D committed suicide. Or at least I was told that he did. I think she killed him and I don’t blame her at all. D used to beat her.

I haven’t seen S in a long time. Some people were staying in the house and I figured that was her family helping her until she felt better. Then those people left and new ones appeared. Then that set left and a woman began cleaning up.

D and S were in the salvage business so there’s a lot of junk. In fact he once beat her up because of the junk.

They had various kitchen appliances in the front yard and the park gave them a notice- clean up or get out. Neither of them actually got the notice because they were not home when it was delivered. The park manager gave it to S’s son’s girlfriend.

The next day (at 9 in the morning) they headed to the corner store for beer. Another neighbor works in the store and she heard D ranting and raving. ‘It’s my house and I’ll do as I damn well please!’

But of course, it is NOT his house. It’s S’s house. She bought it while he was in prison for theft. (I think D may have been the one who tried to break into MY house, but that’s another post)
So S got tired of all this fussing and she left him at the store. Which means that 1.) He had to pay for the beer. 2.) He had to carry the beer home. 3.) He had to walk four miles. 4.) His foot was broken.

It took all day for him to get back home. I am assuming that not only was the long was the walk made longer by his hobbling on a lame foot, but that at some point he sat down and drank all the beer.

Around 3:30 he finally got back and he was so annoyed that he beat the crap out of her and she ran outside. It was a very nice day so everybody was outside milling about their yards while waiting for the school bus. Around 20 people saw her run out with him in hot pursuit, yelling and screaming until he caught her in the driveway where he delivered a few punches. Then he realized people were watching and he hauled ass for the woods.

Someone called 911. Around here it doesn’t matter what the caller asks for, the dispatcher sends everything. Within minutes we had a fire truck, an ambulance, and the sheriff’s department.
S denied any abuse. She claimed to be diabetic and when her blood sugar dropped she collapsed. It was utter bullshit, but D couldn’t be found and S wasn’t talking so the EMT’s treated her and left. The fire truck disrupted traffic and left. The deputy questioned a few people (including me) and left.

So I think she killed him and now she’s left town. I think that because it’s sort of what I would do if I killed my husband. I’m not saying murder is acceptable, just that I think you must defend yourself. I don’t know why she married him to begin with. They lived together first and he beat her then and she married him anyway. It would have been different if he had been sweet until after the wedding. But no, she went in knowing what was coming.

Last night Kevin was outside smoking and he stuck his head in the door and told me to get some clothes on quick and come out.

Thinking something was wrong, I jumped up, fumbled with a t-shirt, put my underwear on inside out and grabbed a dirty pair of pajama pants out of the hamper and put them on backwards because I couldn’t figure out front from back in the darkness of the bedroom. Then I breathlessly stumbled down the back stairs.

Kev had finally noticed the campers. There’s not really anything exciting about it, he was just shocked to find someone camping in February.

Kev, “What’s going on behind S’s house?”

Free, “Oh. People living in a tent.”

Kev, “What?”

Free, “Some people. At least two. They live in the tent and every night they build a fire and pull the car around back so they can use the headlights.”

Kev, “Why don’t they stay in the house?”

Free, “I think the electricity got cut off. I saw a man putting a notice on the door.”

Kev, “How long have they been there?”

Free, “A week.”

Kev, “You mean they were out here when it was 16 degrees?!”

Free, “Yup. Had a big fire.”

Kev, ‘Who are those people?’

Free, ‘Don’t know.’

Kev, ‘You were home ALL DAY and you didn’t find out?!’ Kevin can’t stand to not know something. He is very disappointed with my lack of information. He told me to find out how D died and I never did and that’s bugging him too.

This morning when I walked the dogs there were clothes hanging over the fence. I don’t know how the heck they did laundry. With buckets, I guess. Since water is included in the rent I assume the campers are going in to use the toilet and such. The clothes offered no clues and while I am slightly curious none of this is worth getting my panties inside out for.

To mollify Kev I decided to make something up.

D got drunk late one night and beat the crap out of S when he ran out of beer. She shot him and made it look like a suicide. She then left for work the next day like normal and called the house several times. When she didn’t get an answer she voiced concerns to her co-workers until they encouraged her to call 911. The cops find the body and she has an alibi. S then dyes her hair and moves to another state.

That doesn’t explain the campers though. Hhmm. I’ll have to work on it some more. In the meantime I promise not to get my underwear in a twist.