"Jack Taber’s dead.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that it didn’t register.
“What?”
“Jack Taber’s dead.”
“Oh my gosh. An accident? Heart attack?”
“Murder.”
“What?” I repeated the question for a second time but for a different reason. “How do you know that?”
“Jersey told me. They’ll want to talk to you.”
“Reporters?” I pulled back the kitchen curtain as if I expected my yard to be flooded with newshounds instead of basset hounds.
“Cops.”
Tina and I had shared a house for the past five years. She’d been the victim of domestic violence during her marriage to William the Worst and, having just lost Doug, I offered her a place to live. That’s what families do. She had a great sense of humor, a respectable income, and interesting friends. What Tina was lacking at the moment, though, were communication skills.
She grabbed her jacket from the coatrack and threw her purse over her shoulder, clearly heading out the door and apparently finished with the conversation.
“Not so fast,” I snatched her shoulder strap and yanked her back through the doorway. This time, it was her question.
“What?”
“You’re not going anywhere until I get some information. For instance, how would Jersey know Jack was murdered?”
Tina let out a great, big sigh and dropped her purse on the kitchen table. Before she sat down, she walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the bag of blueberry bagels and some cream cheese. She painstakingly prepared the bagel, letting me understand that she’d answer my question when she was good and ready. I might as well give in. I went to the coffee pot and poured her a cup.
“Thanks,” she mumbled through a bite of bagel. She took a sip of coffee.
“So last night,” she finally started, “Jersey went out with Nicky when his shift was over. She was little annoyed because he ran an errand before he picked her up, but then he took her to that new place on Route 12 for some drinks and dancing. You been there yet? I hear it’s pretty swank.”
“No.” And I hoped my expression indicated how much I didn’t care.
“Well, anyway,” she continued, “after a while, they went back to Nicky’s place and, you know, one thing led to another and …”
“You can skip that part. I know Jersey.”
Tina smiled.
“Yeah. Well, after they were done, Jersey was getting dressed to go home when the news came over Nicky’s police scanner.”
Nicky was a county policeman who was never far from his scanner. That he’d gone out of his house on a date was a credit to his feelings for Jersey.
“That’s it?” I asked, since Tina apparently thought the story she just told would be enough to satisfy my curiosity.
“What else do you want to know?”
“How about why you think the police would want to talk to me?”
“You had an affair with Taber.”
“I dated him. Twenty years ago. Before Doug came along.”
“He stole money from you.”
“He stole money from everybody.”
“Maybe so. But you were the one who filed charges against him.”
“It wasn’t like he took a few dollars here and there. He emptied out a sizeable bank account with a stolen debit card.”
“And you never got the money back.”
“So what are you saying? You think I’m a suspect?”
Tina shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t know. I’m not a cop. I’m just saying he hated you and you hated him. I’d say that was cause for a few questions. Well, gotta go.”
Tina got up, grabbed her coat and purse and headed for the front door. I followed her like a puppy. Just as Tina turned the knob, somebody knocked on the door. She opened the door to find a large, serious looking man standing there, holding a badge.
“Hello. Are you Amanda Tate?” He directed his question to Tina, not seeing me behind her. I gently shoved her out of the way.
“No sir, I am. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Detective Fred Kerwacki. Homicide. I’d like to ask you a few questions. May I come inside?”
Apparently, the urgency of Tina’s departure had lessened quite a bit. She turned to follow the Detective into the house. I gave her a stern look hoping she’d catch its meaning. She did.
“Detective, do you need me for anything. I need to open my store.”
“I don’t even know who you are?”
“Christina Morgan. I’m Mrs. Tate’s cousin and I live here.”
Kerwacki looked at his notebook and shook his head.
“No, Ms. Morgan. I don’t think I need you at this time. Maybe later. I’ll be in touch if I do.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you later, Mandy.”
And with that, Tina was gone and I was left alone with a Homicide Detective. In my own home. To ask me questions about a murder. The situation wasn’t a good one.
“Mrs. Tate, I’m investigating the murder of John Michael Taber. As I said before, I have a few questions.”
We walked into the living room and sat down. What was normally a comfortable room suddenly felt very confining.
“Yes, I assumed you would.”
Kerwacki’s eyebrows shot up and his face clouded in suspicion.
“And why is that?”
“Why is what?”
“Your assumption that I had questions about Taber’s murder?”
Because my stupid cousin said so, is what I wanted to say. Instead, I tried to minimize whatever damage my words had caused.
“I heard about Jack’s murder this morning. My cousin Tina heard the news from a friend of ours.”
“And who would that friend be?”
“Jersey. Jersey Pelletini. Her boyfriend is a policeman and they were together when the news came over his scanner.”
“What’s the policeman’s name?”
“Nick Galleano.”
As he continued to write down her every word, a slight smile crept across his face.
“I happen to know Nicky. He’s a good man. Fine officer.”
“Yes,” was all I managed to get out.
“Okay, then, Mrs. Tate. Let’s get down to it. You filed criminal charges against Mr. Taber several years ago. He apparently took money from you during the course of your affair.”
“It wasn’t an affair. We were dating.”
“Did his wife know about your affair?” Detective Kerwacki ignored my comment.
“When Jack and I were dating, he wasn’t married. Our relationship ended twenty years ago.”
“How long did you … date?”
I didn’t care for the pause. It seemed to imply something sordid or sinister.
“I dated Jack for three years.”
“Marriage ever come up?”
The question caught me off guard. What did that have to do with anything? Nevertheless, I answered the question.
“No.”
“Never?”
“Jack was handsome. He had a good job and a bright future. But he also liked women. Lots of women. Not a good prospect for marriage.”
“But you stayed with him. For three years. Why?”
“Because I was young, stupid and in love.”
Kerwacki stared at me for a few, painfully long, minutes. Whatever he was thinking was a mystery to me.
Without saying anything, he got up and wandered over to the piano by the window. He hunched a little bit forward, as if looking at something in front of him. With his broad back to me, I couldn’t tell what. When he turned back to me, he was holding a photograph.
“Nice picture. Who’s the guy with you?”
It was my wedding picture. I wanted to grab it out of his hands and put it back where it belonged. I felt violated.
“That’s my husband, Douglas Tate. It was taken at our wedding.”
“Where’s Mr. Tate this morning?” he asked, still clutching the frame.
“He was killed by a drunk driver on his way home from work five years ago.”
It never changed. Whether I talked about it or thought about it, my eyes always filled with tears. The face of the hard-boiled detective suddenly softened. Gently, he returned the photograph to the top of the piano.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tate,” he said quietly. “That wasn’t in my notes. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I ignored his sudden kindness.
“What else do you want to know?” I asked coldly.
Kerwacki refocused his thoughts and waited a moment before asking his next question. When he did, he was all business.
“How did Mr. Taber react when you had him arrested?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m guessing he was pretty pissed.”
Kerwacki chucked, which seemed incredibly out of place.
“I meant how did he react to you?”
“We never spoke again. Our lawyers did the talking for us.”
Then, rather abruptly, the detective closed his notebook and walked toward the door.
“Is that it? You’re not going to ask me if I killed him?”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Kerwacki nodded his head, trying to convey a message that eluded me.
Halfway through the door, he stopped and turned to me.
“Sorry about before.”
“Thanks.”
Then he disappeared down the sidewalk.
Not surprisingly, Tina got home from work early. She sat it rapt attention at the kitchen as I relayed the details of my interrogation.
“Interesting,” was the only word she uttered when I finished.
“That’s all you can say? Interesting? I know you’re not a great talker, but you must have more to say than that.”
Tina gave me one of her puzzled looks. For the second time today, I failed miserably at reading body language.
“It’s not that complicated, Mandy. I thought his questions were interesting. Plain and simple.”
“Oh, yes,” I snapped. “Very interesting questions. Trying to find out if I’m a cold-blooded killer. I, myself, am absolutely fascinated.”
“You don’t need to be so sarcastic.”
“Yes I do. Some cop came here today to find out if I murdered my ex-boyfriend. That gives me the right to be as sarcastic as I please.”
The absurdity of the situation finally hit home. We looked at each other and then, simultaneously, broke into laughter.
Tina regained control first.
“You’re not a killer. You’re a nutcase.”
“I would think most killers are.”
“You’re probably right. You know what’s strange? That guy didn’t ask you where you were on the night of the crime. Didn’t tell you how Jack was killed. Didn’t ask you if you had a gun. Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?”
“Tina, how would I know if it’s odd or not. I’ve never been interrogated before.”
“Well, those are the kind of questions they ask on all those police shows.”
“This is real life. Not exactly the same thing.”
“Do you know who Jack married?”
“Talk about odd. That’s a pretty unusual question.” I thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I don’t know.”
“Well, I do,” said Tina triumphantly. It’s not every day she knows more than me. Or so I pretend. I waited for her to enlighten me.
“Elizabeth Baxter.”
I whistled, which I’m normally not prone to doing.
“Of Baxter Insurance, Baxter Realty and Baxter Bank and Trust?”
“One and the same. The sole heir to a multimillion dollar empire.”
I shook my head.
“That just doesn’t make sense. I mean, I can guess what attracted him to her. But even assuming Jack was still handsome, why would someone like Elizabeth Baxter marry a guy like that?”
“Maybe she was charmed by his villainous ways. Some women are attracted to danger.”
“Villainous, huh? Big word.”
Tina laughed.
“I’ve been reading the dictionary. As you can see, I’m up to the letter v.”
It was my turn to laugh.
Tina furrowed her brow. She was lost in thought. Wherever she was, I hated to interrupt her, so I waited patiently for her return. It took a few minutes for her to come back.
“Mandy, do you suppose Elizabeth killed him?”
“Because of money?”
“Well, there is that. Or maybe because of another woman. Do you think Jack changed in that regard?”
I only thought about it for a second.
“I doubt it. Maybe I’m just bitter when it comes to him, but I don’t think men like that change. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this is a pretty good mystery. And I’m surprised a writer like you hasn’t thought of that yet.”
“I’m not a mystery writer. I write cheesy romance novels.”
“Maybe it’s time to broaden your horizons.”
I didn’t like the way this conversation was heading. Tina was addicted to crimes dramas on television and books by Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers.
“Whatever is going on in your head, forget it. We’re not the police. They can do their job pretty well without help from us.”
Tina looked disappointed. I took that as a very bad sign.
“So, when you’re arrested for killing Jack, do you want me to sell the house? You’ll probably rack up some hefty legal bills.”
“No, you don’t. I’m not buying into this.”
“What about the dogs? Should I find them new homes or just take them to the pound?”
I sucked in a lot of air on that one. My three basset hounds, Simon, Tucker and Trixie, meant the world to me. I couldn’t imagine life without them. I certainly couldn’t picture them in the pound.
“Supposing … and I mean just that … supposing we tried to figure this out? I don’t have a clue how to start.”
“That’s what you have me for, cousin,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got some ideas.”
Great, I thought. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight out as I felt the imaginary pin prick from a lethal injection.
A knock at the front door brought me back from the death chamber.
“Get that, will you,” I said to Tina. “And if it’s that stupid detective, tell him I left the country.”
“He didn’t look stupid to me. He seemed rather intelligent. He has a high forehead.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Guess you didn’t notice his big, blue eyes, either,” she laughed.
“They were green,” I said to myself after Tina left the room.
The visitor wasn’t Kerwacki. It was our friend, Jersey. Jersey Pelletini was normally in a state of animation. Today, though, she seemed more agitated. Her features were clouded by concern.
“Mandy, oh my gosh, are you okay?” she asked as she put her tiny arms around me in a vice-like grip.
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to release myself. “I really am. Why shouldn’t I be?”
Jersey looked at me with uncomprehending eyes.
“Why? Your ex-boyfriend gets murdered and a cop comes here asking you questions. I’d be a mess if it was me.”
I took a closer look at Jersey’s face. Her eyes showed the leftover signs of tears. How sweet of her to be so concerned about me.
“You’re a dear to be this worried. But Jack was a part of my past, and not the good part. The detective was just doing what he’s supposed to do. Hopefully, that’s the last I’ll see of him.”
“You’re just too brave, Mandy. Isn’t she brave, Tina? Unflappable. That’s what you are.”
Tina laughed.
“She wasn’t so unflappable earlier. She thought she’d be arrested, convicted and sent to the electric chair.”
On hearing that, Jersey inhaled sharply and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Well, they didn’t really, but I’m a writer with a vivid imagination.
“Don’t worry about it, Jersey. Tina has it all planned out. She’s going to solve the crime and bring the killer to justice.”
“You can do that?” Jersey asked in astonishment.
“No. She can’t,” I replied. “But she’s going to make my life miserable by trying.”
“You’d be surprised what I can do,” said Tina. Her chest puffed out ever so slightly. “I know things.”
“What kind of things?” Jersey whispered.
“Nothing. She doesn’t know anything. Tina, just because you own a mystery bookstore doesn’t make you a detective. The two aren’t interchangeable.”
Tina waved her hand at me in a dismissive gesture. Before she could start the lecture on her powers of deduction, the sound of crying made us both turn our heads. Jersey fell into a chair, her body shaking in time with her sobs. Tina and I looked at each other. What was this all about?
We sat down at the table on either side of her, each one tightly holding a hand. It took a while for her to regain her composure.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You were having an affair with Jack, weren’t you?” Tina asked quietly.
I don’t know who was more startled by this question, Jersey or me. It was probably a tie. I was all set to admonish Tina on her lack of tact when Jersey gave an even more startling answer.
“I did have an affair with Jack. For about six months. It was over a year ago.”
“Well,” I stumbled over my words, “at least you had the sense to call it off.”
“I didn’t. He did. He moved on to somebody else.”
Apparently, Jack hadn’t changed. Even marriage to a wealthy woman couldn’t curb his wandering nature.
Jersey started crying again.
“They’ll think I did it,” she managed to say between sobs. “They’ll think I killed him.”
“But you didn’t, did you?” I could hardly believe the words coming out of Tina’s mouth. Jersey and I spoke in unison.
“Of course she didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. I swear.”
My eyes met Tina’s and I was praying she caught the rebuke in my expression. This line of inquiry was over. She got my meaning. For the next hour, we did what friends do when one of them is hurting. We tried our best to comfort her. I invited her to stay for dinner, but she said no. She wanted to be home when Nicky got there.
We walked her to her car and tried not to look awkward when we hugged her goodbye.
“Take care,” I said forcing a smile. “Everything will be fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The smile she returned was equally forced. I was sure that once she pulled away, she’d start crying again.
Tina and I walked slowly and in silence back toward the house. Even once we were back inside, we were too upset to talk. We were both lost in our own thoughts. I don’t know how much time elapsed, but the afternoon sun was beginning to disappear.
“I better get dinner started,” Tina’s voice broke the quiet. “It’s my turn.” Then she disappeared into the kitchen.
Normally, I’m the one who prefers kitchen duty. I’ve been known to take control of the pots and pans on Tina’s regular night. But there was nothing normal about today. I just didn’t have the energy. I was incredibly grateful when Tina called me to the dining room and set a plate bearing a grilled steak and baked potato in front of me.
“Do you want a veggie or salad?” she asked.
“No. I’d rather have a glass of wine.”
“Coming right up,” she smiled. “I’ve already got a bottle opened.”
“You must have been reading my mind,” I said as she went back to the kitchen. She returned with the bottle and two glasses.
“If I could read your mind,” Tina asked after sitting down, “what would I be reading?”
I buttered my potato with a little too much gusto. A small pool of its melted, salty sweetness dripped over the side of my plate and onto the table. I absently ran my finger through it.
“We all grew up together. We did everything together. We were like a little girl version of The Three Musketeers.”
“Remember that big, yellow, plastic pool in her backyard? I think one summer we were in it nearly every day.” Tina chuckled at the memory.
I smiled, too, but the smile quickly faded.
“Why did she ever get involved with Jack? It’s not like she didn’t know what he was like. I told her often enough.”
“People sometimes lose their heads. Emotions overtake common sense.”
“But with Jack? She and Nicky have a really nice life. They were going to move in together. Why would she risk that?”
“Seems like you’re more concerned about her affair with Jack than about her killing him.”
I dropped my fork and it made a loud, rattling noise when it hit the table.
“You can’t be serious. You can’t really think Jersey killed him?”
Tina collected her thoughts.
“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t really believe that. My money’s still on Elizabeth Baxter. I don’t think it was either one of you. You two are old news.”
“Gee, thanks.” I made my reply as sarcastic as possible.
As usual, Tina ignored my sarcasm.
“I wonder if there’s a way to find out who else he fooled around with. He must have left quite a trail of broken hearts.”
“There’s no way of knowing. It’s not like there’s a Jack Taber Anonymous,” I said. Then I paused a moment while a thought popped into my head.
“Tina, you never did, did you?”
“Did what?”
“Had an affair with Jack.”
She stared at me long and hard. Then she let out a loud laugh.
“Are you serious? Me and Jack Taber? Mandy, you’re crazy. And the idea is crazy.”
“Why is that so crazy? Didn’t you just talk about emotions and common sense? You could have gotten all wrapped up in his charms. That’s not so hard to believe. Jersey’s pretty level headed and she did.”
“Okay, Mandy. Get a grip. There’s a big difference between me and Jersey. You and I are more like sisters than cousins. I was there when he treated you like dirt. I saw what you went through. It hurt me nearly as much as it hurt you. So, I’d never have gotten mixed up with Jack. He tried to pick me up in a bar once, though.”
“No kidding? What did you do?”
“I poured my drink in his lap.”
“I love it!” I laughed. “I bet he didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t. He seemed genuinely annoyed.”
Then we both laughed for a good, long time. But, once again, reality crept back in the room and stilled the laughter.
“Mandy, do you think Jersey will talk to the police?”
I shook my head.
“I doubt it. Only the three of us know about the affair and I’m not planning on announcing it. If they find out on their own, they can handle it then.” I looked at my watch. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to do the dishes and head up to bed.”
“No, you’re not,” Tina said, nodding her head toward the stairs. “You’re going to skip the dishes and just go to bed. I’ll take care of everything down here.”
My eyes started to mist over. “Thank you” was all I could manage to say. Tina was right. She was like my sister. And I was grateful to have her in my life.
The Basset Brigade followed me up the steps and into my private sanctuary. I changed into my comfiest pajamas and the four of us climbed into bed, looking forward to a night of peaceful rest.
That didn’t exactly happen.
Dreams invaded my weary brain. I tossed and turned all night, as evidenced by the mass of twisted blankets and sheets I was tangled in the next morning. In one dream, the police were hauling Jersey away. In another, they were hauling me away. Then there was the dream where Jack Taber came into my living room, only to be shot to death by my late husband.
And there was something else. Something I couldn’t remember. Whatever it was, it caused me to bolt upright in bed. I fumbled around for my alarm clock. It was only 4:00. It was way too early for the dogs to stir and way too early for me to be awake. But it seemed pointless to try to go back to sleep. I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb the bassets, put on my robe, and went downstairs.
My nerves were a little rattled, so you can imagine how I reacted when I saw a light peeking out from beneath the kitchen door. I twisted my head back and forth, searching for a weapon to defend my honor. For a reason I’ll never be able to explain, I grabbed the soup ladle from the box of my mother’s silver.
Armed, and now slightly psychotic, I yanked the door open with all the force I could muster, which caused my cousin to scream and drop the cup she was holding, and me to flail wildly in the air with my ladle.
“Are you nuts? What’s the matter with you? You scared me to death! What the heck is that?” she yelled, pointing at my weapon.
I looked at the soup ladle in my hand, and then looked back at Tina. Within seconds, the room, the house, and, quite possibly the neighborhood, were filled with the uncontrollable laughter. Tears were streaming down our faces. We laughed so hard that Tina got the hiccups and my stomach began to hurt.
I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I tried to speak. “We’ve got to regain some dignity here.”
At which point, we both glanced at the ladle I was still clutching, and laughter erupted all over again.
Somehow, we managed to get ourselves under control. For the first time, we noticed that the cup Tina was holding had shattered into a dozen pieces and its contents were all over the floor. I got the broom, Tina got the mop, and in record time, the mess was gone.
“What are you doing up so early?” I asked during the cleaning process.
“I couldn’t sleep. I keep replaying this whole thing over and over in my mind. I’ve jotted down all sorts of scenarios in my notebook. What about you? Same thing?”
“Same, without the notebook. I had one bad dream after another. You want some coffee?”
“I had some,” she said, pointing at the floor.
We both smiled, but this time, we resisted the urge to laugh.
As the coffee was brewing, I put two cups on the table and I put a question to Tina.
“You going down to the store? I know it’s early, but you could catch up on some of the paperwork you’ve been talking about.”
“No, I already called Martin. He’s going to open for me.”
“You already called your assistant? At 4:00?”
“He needs his job,” Tina chuckled. “He’ll do whatever I tell him to do.”
“Wow! That’s some kind of power you wield down there at Read Between the Lines. Aren’t you afraid of a revolt?”
“Nah. Martin loves the bookstore. He’d live there if he could. In fact, he’s asked me to turn the third floor into an apartment. And the Barbie Doll is too self-absorbed to care.”
The Barbie Doll was Barbara Whittaker, the daughter of a third cousin, which was the only reason Tina hired her.
It was nice to engage in normal conversation about ordinary things. It didn’t take long, though, before the demise of Jack Taber once again took over. Tina began thumbing through her notebook.
“What have you written down there?”
“A list of suspects, mostly.”
“Want to share?”
“Sure. First, there’s my favorite, Elizabeth Baxter. She could have killed him for cheating on her. Or maybe she caught him stealing money.”
“Both of which he’d done before.”
“Next, there’s Jersey. She was a scorned lover, tossed away like yesterday’s newspaper.”
If that thought left a bad taste in my mouth, it was nothing compared to what she said next.
“Then there’s you.”
“Me? You suspect me?”
“You certainly had a motive. He dumped you and he took your money.”
“That was twenty years ago! How many times do I have to say that?”
“Oh, I told you yesterday I didn’t think you did it. Don’t get all huffy.”
“Look,” I said, my feathers still ruffled, “there’s no way of knowing how many woman he used who wanted revenge. But I know it wasn’t me, and I know it wasn’t Jersey.” I gave a deep sigh of resignation. “This murder could take years to solve.”
The thought unsettled me. How long would I be living under a cloud of suspicion?
“You’re right about that. Women don’t usually brag about their affairs, especially with married men. Unless they’ve written about it in their diaries or emailed the news to their friends, the police will have to figure it out on their own.”
It suddenly hit me. That was the phrase gnawing at me when I woke up. On their own.
“Tina, when was Jack killed? The night before last or yesterday morning?”
“I’m not sure when he was killed, but I think the body was found either the night before last or early the next morning. It wasn’t very clear when Jersey was getting ready to leave Nicky’s apartment. Why? Does it make a difference?”
“Only in how long it would take the police to track down a twenty-year old lawsuit.”
“That wouldn’t have taken very long. I’m sure that’s the first thing they did was see if he had a record.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that. But in a handful of hours, would they have been able to put all the pieces together that led back to me? It takes time to gather up all that information and Detective Kerwacki was here at 7:30 that morning.”
Tina finally caught up to my train of thought.
“That’s right. He was. I had to open the store, which is why I was leaving so early. He couldn’t have figured that out so fast. Unless someone nudged him along.”
“And that someone could only have been one of two people.”
Unlike yesterday morning, I was the one who grabbed my jacket and purse and ran to the front door.
“Wait a minute,” Tina yelled after me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to the police station to find Kerwacki.”
“Mandy, it’s only 5:00. He’s probably not even in yet.”
I’d completely forgotten about the time. I turned around, went back to the living room and picked up the phone.
“I’ll call the station and see if he’s there. If not, I’ll leave a message.”
Of course, he wasn’t in, but I asked that he call me as soon as he was. I added that it was about the Taber murder. After hanging up the phone, I realized that Tina hadn’t taken her eyes off me.
“Something you want to tell me?” she asked, her tone a bit gruff.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just got all caught up in the moment.”
“So you think it was Jersey. You think she killed him and then told Nicky about your relationship with Jack to throw off any suspicion?”
I chose my words carefully.
“Yes, I think Jersey told Nicky about me and Jack. But I don’t think she told the police about us and I don’t think she committed the murder.”
“Well, if it wasn’t Jersey, then it had to be … oh my gosh.”
“Yes, I think it was Nicky. I think he’s the killer.”
“Hold on a minute. They went out to the bar that night and then back to his place. They were together the whole time. When would he have time to kill Jack?”
“He picked her up late because he had an errand. The errand was probably killing Jack.”
Tina shook her head doubtfully, but her voice carried little conviction.
“But the affair was over a year ago. Why would he wait so long?”
“People carry grudges for a long time. People who want revenge don’t work on a set timetable.”
We spent the next hour sitting in silence. I was deep in thought and I’m sure Tina was, too. We were thinking about Jersey. And we were worrying about her. She was a very good friend who’d made a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life. It was our job to help her through it.
The ringing phone caused both of us to jump. I answered it as soon as I could. Kerwacki had returned my call and I explained my theory to him. He didn’t laugh at me or tell me to mind my own business. He asked me a few questions, told me he’d be back in touch, and then hung up.
A couple hours later, Tina and I were watching a morning news program when they showed a video of a handcuffed Officer Nick Galleano being taken from his apartment building into police custody. In the background we could see the tear-stained face of Jersey and the solemn face of Detective Fred Kerwacki.
A short time later, Kerwacki knocked on the door. He sat down and told us everything about the evidence, the arrest, how Jersey reacted, and what would probably happen next. When he finished, he focused his attention on me.
“You were right, Mrs. Tate. Galleano killed Taber because of the affair with Ms. Pelletini. When I first got there, I think he was afraid I was going to arrest her. I told you he was a good man. He couldn’t let that happen. I brought up your scenario and he didn’t try to deny it. He said he’d been angry a long time and, eventually, the anger overwhelmed him. It wasn’t a crime of passion done on the spur of the moment. It was clearly premeditated. He’d been planning it for months.”
There wasn’t much left to say. He thanked me for my help and started to leave. Suddenly, he turned back toward me.
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime. Maybe grab a cup of coffee or something.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think so. Well, I don’t know. Maybe. Sure, we’ll get coffee sometime.”
“Good. I’ll give you a call.”
“Sounds great.”
“You silver-tongued devil,” Tina teased me when he left. “You sure know how to woo them.”
“I’m tired,” I said walking to the stairs. “I’m going back to bed for a while.”
“To dream of Detective Blue Eyes?”
I stopped halfway up the steps and gave her a sleepy grin.
“They’re green.”
© Susan Schoeffield 2011
She said it so matter-of-factly that it didn’t register.
“What?”
“Jack Taber’s dead.”
“Oh my gosh. An accident? Heart attack?”
“Murder.”
“What?” I repeated the question for a second time but for a different reason. “How do you know that?”
“Jersey told me. They’ll want to talk to you.”
“Reporters?” I pulled back the kitchen curtain as if I expected my yard to be flooded with newshounds instead of basset hounds.
“Cops.”
Tina and I had shared a house for the past five years. She’d been the victim of domestic violence during her marriage to William the Worst and, having just lost Doug, I offered her a place to live. That’s what families do. She had a great sense of humor, a respectable income, and interesting friends. What Tina was lacking at the moment, though, were communication skills.
She grabbed her jacket from the coatrack and threw her purse over her shoulder, clearly heading out the door and apparently finished with the conversation.
“Not so fast,” I snatched her shoulder strap and yanked her back through the doorway. This time, it was her question.
“What?”
“You’re not going anywhere until I get some information. For instance, how would Jersey know Jack was murdered?”
Tina let out a great, big sigh and dropped her purse on the kitchen table. Before she sat down, she walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the bag of blueberry bagels and some cream cheese. She painstakingly prepared the bagel, letting me understand that she’d answer my question when she was good and ready. I might as well give in. I went to the coffee pot and poured her a cup.
“Thanks,” she mumbled through a bite of bagel. She took a sip of coffee.
“So last night,” she finally started, “Jersey went out with Nicky when his shift was over. She was little annoyed because he ran an errand before he picked her up, but then he took her to that new place on Route 12 for some drinks and dancing. You been there yet? I hear it’s pretty swank.”
“No.” And I hoped my expression indicated how much I didn’t care.
“Well, anyway,” she continued, “after a while, they went back to Nicky’s place and, you know, one thing led to another and …”
“You can skip that part. I know Jersey.”
Tina smiled.
“Yeah. Well, after they were done, Jersey was getting dressed to go home when the news came over Nicky’s police scanner.”
Nicky was a county policeman who was never far from his scanner. That he’d gone out of his house on a date was a credit to his feelings for Jersey.
“That’s it?” I asked, since Tina apparently thought the story she just told would be enough to satisfy my curiosity.
“What else do you want to know?”
“How about why you think the police would want to talk to me?”
“You had an affair with Taber.”
“I dated him. Twenty years ago. Before Doug came along.”
“He stole money from you.”
“He stole money from everybody.”
“Maybe so. But you were the one who filed charges against him.”
“It wasn’t like he took a few dollars here and there. He emptied out a sizeable bank account with a stolen debit card.”
“And you never got the money back.”
“So what are you saying? You think I’m a suspect?”
Tina shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t know. I’m not a cop. I’m just saying he hated you and you hated him. I’d say that was cause for a few questions. Well, gotta go.”
Tina got up, grabbed her coat and purse and headed for the front door. I followed her like a puppy. Just as Tina turned the knob, somebody knocked on the door. She opened the door to find a large, serious looking man standing there, holding a badge.
“Hello. Are you Amanda Tate?” He directed his question to Tina, not seeing me behind her. I gently shoved her out of the way.
“No sir, I am. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Detective Fred Kerwacki. Homicide. I’d like to ask you a few questions. May I come inside?”
Apparently, the urgency of Tina’s departure had lessened quite a bit. She turned to follow the Detective into the house. I gave her a stern look hoping she’d catch its meaning. She did.
“Detective, do you need me for anything. I need to open my store.”
“I don’t even know who you are?”
“Christina Morgan. I’m Mrs. Tate’s cousin and I live here.”
Kerwacki looked at his notebook and shook his head.
“No, Ms. Morgan. I don’t think I need you at this time. Maybe later. I’ll be in touch if I do.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you later, Mandy.”
And with that, Tina was gone and I was left alone with a Homicide Detective. In my own home. To ask me questions about a murder. The situation wasn’t a good one.
“Mrs. Tate, I’m investigating the murder of John Michael Taber. As I said before, I have a few questions.”
We walked into the living room and sat down. What was normally a comfortable room suddenly felt very confining.
“Yes, I assumed you would.”
Kerwacki’s eyebrows shot up and his face clouded in suspicion.
“And why is that?”
“Why is what?”
“Your assumption that I had questions about Taber’s murder?”
Because my stupid cousin said so, is what I wanted to say. Instead, I tried to minimize whatever damage my words had caused.
“I heard about Jack’s murder this morning. My cousin Tina heard the news from a friend of ours.”
“And who would that friend be?”
“Jersey. Jersey Pelletini. Her boyfriend is a policeman and they were together when the news came over his scanner.”
“What’s the policeman’s name?”
“Nick Galleano.”
As he continued to write down her every word, a slight smile crept across his face.
“I happen to know Nicky. He’s a good man. Fine officer.”
“Yes,” was all I managed to get out.
“Okay, then, Mrs. Tate. Let’s get down to it. You filed criminal charges against Mr. Taber several years ago. He apparently took money from you during the course of your affair.”
“It wasn’t an affair. We were dating.”
“Did his wife know about your affair?” Detective Kerwacki ignored my comment.
“When Jack and I were dating, he wasn’t married. Our relationship ended twenty years ago.”
“How long did you … date?”
I didn’t care for the pause. It seemed to imply something sordid or sinister.
“I dated Jack for three years.”
“Marriage ever come up?”
The question caught me off guard. What did that have to do with anything? Nevertheless, I answered the question.
“No.”
“Never?”
“Jack was handsome. He had a good job and a bright future. But he also liked women. Lots of women. Not a good prospect for marriage.”
“But you stayed with him. For three years. Why?”
“Because I was young, stupid and in love.”
Kerwacki stared at me for a few, painfully long, minutes. Whatever he was thinking was a mystery to me.
Without saying anything, he got up and wandered over to the piano by the window. He hunched a little bit forward, as if looking at something in front of him. With his broad back to me, I couldn’t tell what. When he turned back to me, he was holding a photograph.
“Nice picture. Who’s the guy with you?”
It was my wedding picture. I wanted to grab it out of his hands and put it back where it belonged. I felt violated.
“That’s my husband, Douglas Tate. It was taken at our wedding.”
“Where’s Mr. Tate this morning?” he asked, still clutching the frame.
“He was killed by a drunk driver on his way home from work five years ago.”
It never changed. Whether I talked about it or thought about it, my eyes always filled with tears. The face of the hard-boiled detective suddenly softened. Gently, he returned the photograph to the top of the piano.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Tate,” he said quietly. “That wasn’t in my notes. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I ignored his sudden kindness.
“What else do you want to know?” I asked coldly.
Kerwacki refocused his thoughts and waited a moment before asking his next question. When he did, he was all business.
“How did Mr. Taber react when you had him arrested?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m guessing he was pretty pissed.”
Kerwacki chucked, which seemed incredibly out of place.
“I meant how did he react to you?”
“We never spoke again. Our lawyers did the talking for us.”
Then, rather abruptly, the detective closed his notebook and walked toward the door.
“Is that it? You’re not going to ask me if I killed him?”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Kerwacki nodded his head, trying to convey a message that eluded me.
Halfway through the door, he stopped and turned to me.
“Sorry about before.”
“Thanks.”
Then he disappeared down the sidewalk.
Not surprisingly, Tina got home from work early. She sat it rapt attention at the kitchen as I relayed the details of my interrogation.
“Interesting,” was the only word she uttered when I finished.
“That’s all you can say? Interesting? I know you’re not a great talker, but you must have more to say than that.”
Tina gave me one of her puzzled looks. For the second time today, I failed miserably at reading body language.
“It’s not that complicated, Mandy. I thought his questions were interesting. Plain and simple.”
“Oh, yes,” I snapped. “Very interesting questions. Trying to find out if I’m a cold-blooded killer. I, myself, am absolutely fascinated.”
“You don’t need to be so sarcastic.”
“Yes I do. Some cop came here today to find out if I murdered my ex-boyfriend. That gives me the right to be as sarcastic as I please.”
The absurdity of the situation finally hit home. We looked at each other and then, simultaneously, broke into laughter.
Tina regained control first.
“You’re not a killer. You’re a nutcase.”
“I would think most killers are.”
“You’re probably right. You know what’s strange? That guy didn’t ask you where you were on the night of the crime. Didn’t tell you how Jack was killed. Didn’t ask you if you had a gun. Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?”
“Tina, how would I know if it’s odd or not. I’ve never been interrogated before.”
“Well, those are the kind of questions they ask on all those police shows.”
“This is real life. Not exactly the same thing.”
“Do you know who Jack married?”
“Talk about odd. That’s a pretty unusual question.” I thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I don’t know.”
“Well, I do,” said Tina triumphantly. It’s not every day she knows more than me. Or so I pretend. I waited for her to enlighten me.
“Elizabeth Baxter.”
I whistled, which I’m normally not prone to doing.
“Of Baxter Insurance, Baxter Realty and Baxter Bank and Trust?”
“One and the same. The sole heir to a multimillion dollar empire.”
I shook my head.
“That just doesn’t make sense. I mean, I can guess what attracted him to her. But even assuming Jack was still handsome, why would someone like Elizabeth Baxter marry a guy like that?”
“Maybe she was charmed by his villainous ways. Some women are attracted to danger.”
“Villainous, huh? Big word.”
Tina laughed.
“I’ve been reading the dictionary. As you can see, I’m up to the letter v.”
It was my turn to laugh.
Tina furrowed her brow. She was lost in thought. Wherever she was, I hated to interrupt her, so I waited patiently for her return. It took a few minutes for her to come back.
“Mandy, do you suppose Elizabeth killed him?”
“Because of money?”
“Well, there is that. Or maybe because of another woman. Do you think Jack changed in that regard?”
I only thought about it for a second.
“I doubt it. Maybe I’m just bitter when it comes to him, but I don’t think men like that change. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking this is a pretty good mystery. And I’m surprised a writer like you hasn’t thought of that yet.”
“I’m not a mystery writer. I write cheesy romance novels.”
“Maybe it’s time to broaden your horizons.”
I didn’t like the way this conversation was heading. Tina was addicted to crimes dramas on television and books by Agatha Christie and Dorothy L. Sayers.
“Whatever is going on in your head, forget it. We’re not the police. They can do their job pretty well without help from us.”
Tina looked disappointed. I took that as a very bad sign.
“So, when you’re arrested for killing Jack, do you want me to sell the house? You’ll probably rack up some hefty legal bills.”
“No, you don’t. I’m not buying into this.”
“What about the dogs? Should I find them new homes or just take them to the pound?”
I sucked in a lot of air on that one. My three basset hounds, Simon, Tucker and Trixie, meant the world to me. I couldn’t imagine life without them. I certainly couldn’t picture them in the pound.
“Supposing … and I mean just that … supposing we tried to figure this out? I don’t have a clue how to start.”
“That’s what you have me for, cousin,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got some ideas.”
Great, I thought. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight out as I felt the imaginary pin prick from a lethal injection.
A knock at the front door brought me back from the death chamber.
“Get that, will you,” I said to Tina. “And if it’s that stupid detective, tell him I left the country.”
“He didn’t look stupid to me. He seemed rather intelligent. He has a high forehead.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Guess you didn’t notice his big, blue eyes, either,” she laughed.
“They were green,” I said to myself after Tina left the room.
The visitor wasn’t Kerwacki. It was our friend, Jersey. Jersey Pelletini was normally in a state of animation. Today, though, she seemed more agitated. Her features were clouded by concern.
“Mandy, oh my gosh, are you okay?” she asked as she put her tiny arms around me in a vice-like grip.
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to release myself. “I really am. Why shouldn’t I be?”
Jersey looked at me with uncomprehending eyes.
“Why? Your ex-boyfriend gets murdered and a cop comes here asking you questions. I’d be a mess if it was me.”
I took a closer look at Jersey’s face. Her eyes showed the leftover signs of tears. How sweet of her to be so concerned about me.
“You’re a dear to be this worried. But Jack was a part of my past, and not the good part. The detective was just doing what he’s supposed to do. Hopefully, that’s the last I’ll see of him.”
“You’re just too brave, Mandy. Isn’t she brave, Tina? Unflappable. That’s what you are.”
Tina laughed.
“She wasn’t so unflappable earlier. She thought she’d be arrested, convicted and sent to the electric chair.”
On hearing that, Jersey inhaled sharply and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Well, they didn’t really, but I’m a writer with a vivid imagination.
“Don’t worry about it, Jersey. Tina has it all planned out. She’s going to solve the crime and bring the killer to justice.”
“You can do that?” Jersey asked in astonishment.
“No. She can’t,” I replied. “But she’s going to make my life miserable by trying.”
“You’d be surprised what I can do,” said Tina. Her chest puffed out ever so slightly. “I know things.”
“What kind of things?” Jersey whispered.
“Nothing. She doesn’t know anything. Tina, just because you own a mystery bookstore doesn’t make you a detective. The two aren’t interchangeable.”
Tina waved her hand at me in a dismissive gesture. Before she could start the lecture on her powers of deduction, the sound of crying made us both turn our heads. Jersey fell into a chair, her body shaking in time with her sobs. Tina and I looked at each other. What was this all about?
We sat down at the table on either side of her, each one tightly holding a hand. It took a while for her to regain her composure.
“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I’m so embarrassed. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You were having an affair with Jack, weren’t you?” Tina asked quietly.
I don’t know who was more startled by this question, Jersey or me. It was probably a tie. I was all set to admonish Tina on her lack of tact when Jersey gave an even more startling answer.
“I did have an affair with Jack. For about six months. It was over a year ago.”
“Well,” I stumbled over my words, “at least you had the sense to call it off.”
“I didn’t. He did. He moved on to somebody else.”
Apparently, Jack hadn’t changed. Even marriage to a wealthy woman couldn’t curb his wandering nature.
Jersey started crying again.
“They’ll think I did it,” she managed to say between sobs. “They’ll think I killed him.”
“But you didn’t, did you?” I could hardly believe the words coming out of Tina’s mouth. Jersey and I spoke in unison.
“Of course she didn’t.”
“No, I didn’t. I swear.”
My eyes met Tina’s and I was praying she caught the rebuke in my expression. This line of inquiry was over. She got my meaning. For the next hour, we did what friends do when one of them is hurting. We tried our best to comfort her. I invited her to stay for dinner, but she said no. She wanted to be home when Nicky got there.
We walked her to her car and tried not to look awkward when we hugged her goodbye.
“Take care,” I said forcing a smile. “Everything will be fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
The smile she returned was equally forced. I was sure that once she pulled away, she’d start crying again.
Tina and I walked slowly and in silence back toward the house. Even once we were back inside, we were too upset to talk. We were both lost in our own thoughts. I don’t know how much time elapsed, but the afternoon sun was beginning to disappear.
“I better get dinner started,” Tina’s voice broke the quiet. “It’s my turn.” Then she disappeared into the kitchen.
Normally, I’m the one who prefers kitchen duty. I’ve been known to take control of the pots and pans on Tina’s regular night. But there was nothing normal about today. I just didn’t have the energy. I was incredibly grateful when Tina called me to the dining room and set a plate bearing a grilled steak and baked potato in front of me.
“Do you want a veggie or salad?” she asked.
“No. I’d rather have a glass of wine.”
“Coming right up,” she smiled. “I’ve already got a bottle opened.”
“You must have been reading my mind,” I said as she went back to the kitchen. She returned with the bottle and two glasses.
“If I could read your mind,” Tina asked after sitting down, “what would I be reading?”
I buttered my potato with a little too much gusto. A small pool of its melted, salty sweetness dripped over the side of my plate and onto the table. I absently ran my finger through it.
“We all grew up together. We did everything together. We were like a little girl version of The Three Musketeers.”
“Remember that big, yellow, plastic pool in her backyard? I think one summer we were in it nearly every day.” Tina chuckled at the memory.
I smiled, too, but the smile quickly faded.
“Why did she ever get involved with Jack? It’s not like she didn’t know what he was like. I told her often enough.”
“People sometimes lose their heads. Emotions overtake common sense.”
“But with Jack? She and Nicky have a really nice life. They were going to move in together. Why would she risk that?”
“Seems like you’re more concerned about her affair with Jack than about her killing him.”
I dropped my fork and it made a loud, rattling noise when it hit the table.
“You can’t be serious. You can’t really think Jersey killed him?”
Tina collected her thoughts.
“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t really believe that. My money’s still on Elizabeth Baxter. I don’t think it was either one of you. You two are old news.”
“Gee, thanks.” I made my reply as sarcastic as possible.
As usual, Tina ignored my sarcasm.
“I wonder if there’s a way to find out who else he fooled around with. He must have left quite a trail of broken hearts.”
“There’s no way of knowing. It’s not like there’s a Jack Taber Anonymous,” I said. Then I paused a moment while a thought popped into my head.
“Tina, you never did, did you?”
“Did what?”
“Had an affair with Jack.”
She stared at me long and hard. Then she let out a loud laugh.
“Are you serious? Me and Jack Taber? Mandy, you’re crazy. And the idea is crazy.”
“Why is that so crazy? Didn’t you just talk about emotions and common sense? You could have gotten all wrapped up in his charms. That’s not so hard to believe. Jersey’s pretty level headed and she did.”
“Okay, Mandy. Get a grip. There’s a big difference between me and Jersey. You and I are more like sisters than cousins. I was there when he treated you like dirt. I saw what you went through. It hurt me nearly as much as it hurt you. So, I’d never have gotten mixed up with Jack. He tried to pick me up in a bar once, though.”
“No kidding? What did you do?”
“I poured my drink in his lap.”
“I love it!” I laughed. “I bet he didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t. He seemed genuinely annoyed.”
Then we both laughed for a good, long time. But, once again, reality crept back in the room and stilled the laughter.
“Mandy, do you think Jersey will talk to the police?”
I shook my head.
“I doubt it. Only the three of us know about the affair and I’m not planning on announcing it. If they find out on their own, they can handle it then.” I looked at my watch. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to do the dishes and head up to bed.”
“No, you’re not,” Tina said, nodding her head toward the stairs. “You’re going to skip the dishes and just go to bed. I’ll take care of everything down here.”
My eyes started to mist over. “Thank you” was all I could manage to say. Tina was right. She was like my sister. And I was grateful to have her in my life.
The Basset Brigade followed me up the steps and into my private sanctuary. I changed into my comfiest pajamas and the four of us climbed into bed, looking forward to a night of peaceful rest.
That didn’t exactly happen.
Dreams invaded my weary brain. I tossed and turned all night, as evidenced by the mass of twisted blankets and sheets I was tangled in the next morning. In one dream, the police were hauling Jersey away. In another, they were hauling me away. Then there was the dream where Jack Taber came into my living room, only to be shot to death by my late husband.
And there was something else. Something I couldn’t remember. Whatever it was, it caused me to bolt upright in bed. I fumbled around for my alarm clock. It was only 4:00. It was way too early for the dogs to stir and way too early for me to be awake. But it seemed pointless to try to go back to sleep. I slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb the bassets, put on my robe, and went downstairs.
My nerves were a little rattled, so you can imagine how I reacted when I saw a light peeking out from beneath the kitchen door. I twisted my head back and forth, searching for a weapon to defend my honor. For a reason I’ll never be able to explain, I grabbed the soup ladle from the box of my mother’s silver.
Armed, and now slightly psychotic, I yanked the door open with all the force I could muster, which caused my cousin to scream and drop the cup she was holding, and me to flail wildly in the air with my ladle.
“Are you nuts? What’s the matter with you? You scared me to death! What the heck is that?” she yelled, pointing at my weapon.
I looked at the soup ladle in my hand, and then looked back at Tina. Within seconds, the room, the house, and, quite possibly the neighborhood, were filled with the uncontrollable laughter. Tears were streaming down our faces. We laughed so hard that Tina got the hiccups and my stomach began to hurt.
I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I tried to speak. “We’ve got to regain some dignity here.”
At which point, we both glanced at the ladle I was still clutching, and laughter erupted all over again.
Somehow, we managed to get ourselves under control. For the first time, we noticed that the cup Tina was holding had shattered into a dozen pieces and its contents were all over the floor. I got the broom, Tina got the mop, and in record time, the mess was gone.
“What are you doing up so early?” I asked during the cleaning process.
“I couldn’t sleep. I keep replaying this whole thing over and over in my mind. I’ve jotted down all sorts of scenarios in my notebook. What about you? Same thing?”
“Same, without the notebook. I had one bad dream after another. You want some coffee?”
“I had some,” she said, pointing at the floor.
We both smiled, but this time, we resisted the urge to laugh.
As the coffee was brewing, I put two cups on the table and I put a question to Tina.
“You going down to the store? I know it’s early, but you could catch up on some of the paperwork you’ve been talking about.”
“No, I already called Martin. He’s going to open for me.”
“You already called your assistant? At 4:00?”
“He needs his job,” Tina chuckled. “He’ll do whatever I tell him to do.”
“Wow! That’s some kind of power you wield down there at Read Between the Lines. Aren’t you afraid of a revolt?”
“Nah. Martin loves the bookstore. He’d live there if he could. In fact, he’s asked me to turn the third floor into an apartment. And the Barbie Doll is too self-absorbed to care.”
The Barbie Doll was Barbara Whittaker, the daughter of a third cousin, which was the only reason Tina hired her.
It was nice to engage in normal conversation about ordinary things. It didn’t take long, though, before the demise of Jack Taber once again took over. Tina began thumbing through her notebook.
“What have you written down there?”
“A list of suspects, mostly.”
“Want to share?”
“Sure. First, there’s my favorite, Elizabeth Baxter. She could have killed him for cheating on her. Or maybe she caught him stealing money.”
“Both of which he’d done before.”
“Next, there’s Jersey. She was a scorned lover, tossed away like yesterday’s newspaper.”
If that thought left a bad taste in my mouth, it was nothing compared to what she said next.
“Then there’s you.”
“Me? You suspect me?”
“You certainly had a motive. He dumped you and he took your money.”
“That was twenty years ago! How many times do I have to say that?”
“Oh, I told you yesterday I didn’t think you did it. Don’t get all huffy.”
“Look,” I said, my feathers still ruffled, “there’s no way of knowing how many woman he used who wanted revenge. But I know it wasn’t me, and I know it wasn’t Jersey.” I gave a deep sigh of resignation. “This murder could take years to solve.”
The thought unsettled me. How long would I be living under a cloud of suspicion?
“You’re right about that. Women don’t usually brag about their affairs, especially with married men. Unless they’ve written about it in their diaries or emailed the news to their friends, the police will have to figure it out on their own.”
It suddenly hit me. That was the phrase gnawing at me when I woke up. On their own.
“Tina, when was Jack killed? The night before last or yesterday morning?”
“I’m not sure when he was killed, but I think the body was found either the night before last or early the next morning. It wasn’t very clear when Jersey was getting ready to leave Nicky’s apartment. Why? Does it make a difference?”
“Only in how long it would take the police to track down a twenty-year old lawsuit.”
“That wouldn’t have taken very long. I’m sure that’s the first thing they did was see if he had a record.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that. But in a handful of hours, would they have been able to put all the pieces together that led back to me? It takes time to gather up all that information and Detective Kerwacki was here at 7:30 that morning.”
Tina finally caught up to my train of thought.
“That’s right. He was. I had to open the store, which is why I was leaving so early. He couldn’t have figured that out so fast. Unless someone nudged him along.”
“And that someone could only have been one of two people.”
Unlike yesterday morning, I was the one who grabbed my jacket and purse and ran to the front door.
“Wait a minute,” Tina yelled after me. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to the police station to find Kerwacki.”
“Mandy, it’s only 5:00. He’s probably not even in yet.”
I’d completely forgotten about the time. I turned around, went back to the living room and picked up the phone.
“I’ll call the station and see if he’s there. If not, I’ll leave a message.”
Of course, he wasn’t in, but I asked that he call me as soon as he was. I added that it was about the Taber murder. After hanging up the phone, I realized that Tina hadn’t taken her eyes off me.
“Something you want to tell me?” she asked, her tone a bit gruff.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just got all caught up in the moment.”
“So you think it was Jersey. You think she killed him and then told Nicky about your relationship with Jack to throw off any suspicion?”
I chose my words carefully.
“Yes, I think Jersey told Nicky about me and Jack. But I don’t think she told the police about us and I don’t think she committed the murder.”
“Well, if it wasn’t Jersey, then it had to be … oh my gosh.”
“Yes, I think it was Nicky. I think he’s the killer.”
“Hold on a minute. They went out to the bar that night and then back to his place. They were together the whole time. When would he have time to kill Jack?”
“He picked her up late because he had an errand. The errand was probably killing Jack.”
Tina shook her head doubtfully, but her voice carried little conviction.
“But the affair was over a year ago. Why would he wait so long?”
“People carry grudges for a long time. People who want revenge don’t work on a set timetable.”
We spent the next hour sitting in silence. I was deep in thought and I’m sure Tina was, too. We were thinking about Jersey. And we were worrying about her. She was a very good friend who’d made a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life. It was our job to help her through it.
The ringing phone caused both of us to jump. I answered it as soon as I could. Kerwacki had returned my call and I explained my theory to him. He didn’t laugh at me or tell me to mind my own business. He asked me a few questions, told me he’d be back in touch, and then hung up.
A couple hours later, Tina and I were watching a morning news program when they showed a video of a handcuffed Officer Nick Galleano being taken from his apartment building into police custody. In the background we could see the tear-stained face of Jersey and the solemn face of Detective Fred Kerwacki.
A short time later, Kerwacki knocked on the door. He sat down and told us everything about the evidence, the arrest, how Jersey reacted, and what would probably happen next. When he finished, he focused his attention on me.
“You were right, Mrs. Tate. Galleano killed Taber because of the affair with Ms. Pelletini. When I first got there, I think he was afraid I was going to arrest her. I told you he was a good man. He couldn’t let that happen. I brought up your scenario and he didn’t try to deny it. He said he’d been angry a long time and, eventually, the anger overwhelmed him. It wasn’t a crime of passion done on the spur of the moment. It was clearly premeditated. He’d been planning it for months.”
There wasn’t much left to say. He thanked me for my help and started to leave. Suddenly, he turned back toward me.
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime. Maybe grab a cup of coffee or something.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think so. Well, I don’t know. Maybe. Sure, we’ll get coffee sometime.”
“Good. I’ll give you a call.”
“Sounds great.”
“You silver-tongued devil,” Tina teased me when he left. “You sure know how to woo them.”
“I’m tired,” I said walking to the stairs. “I’m going back to bed for a while.”
“To dream of Detective Blue Eyes?”
I stopped halfway up the steps and gave her a sleepy grin.
“They’re green.”
© Susan Schoeffield 2011
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