by Reagan Davis
Stephanie and I resemble each other more than Stephanie and Kelly do. We’re close to the same height, have curly brown hair, fair skin, and a similar body type with a good helping of boobs and hips, and a small waist. It’s kind of creepy that we look alike. Maybe Adam has a type, but this still would make more sense to me if Stephanie bore no resemblance to me.
“I swear, I had no idea they were sisters.”
All of a sudden, Adam is standing next to me. I get up, thank the other table occupants, and walk away with Adam following close behind and continuing to speak.
“Honestly, Meg, I didn’t even know she was married until Fred contacted me last week, never mind knowing anything about her extended family.”
He sounds sincere.
“She doesn’t wear a ring, she never talks about her family, and there aren’t any photos or personal items in her office. I admit I know she has a cat. She talks about the cat and has photos of him on her phone, but she’s never mentioned a husband.”
I nod, looking past him at the condolence line.
“But it certainly makes sense now why Kelly didn’t want to meet me near my office,” he adds.
I glance at Stephanie’s ring finger. He’s telling the truth; she isn’t wearing a ring or any jewelry at all now that I’m looking specifically for jewelry.
She might not have any photos in her office, but Adam does. He framed a photo we took of the three of us at Hannah’s graduation ceremony and took it to work for his desk. Stephanie probably recognized me from the photos in his office and that’s why she walked away when we made eye contact at the Shop’n’Save on Monday.
“She knew she was married, and you both knew that you were married, even if it is in name only,” I say.
Maybe next time, he’ll ask more questions before he gets in bed with someone and sends them compromising photos.
“You also knew that you were a partner, she was a junior associate, the relationship was against company policy, not to mention unethical, and put your livelihood and our family at risk,” I admonish.
We stand in silence while I collect myself, and he gets over the shock of his wife and girlfriend being in the same room at the same time.
“We should say hello to Kelly and give our condolences,” I finally say as I turn and walk toward the condolence line.
April and Tamara go first. I watch as April introduces herself to Fred as though they’ve never met before and shakes his hand.
Well played, April.
Watching them shake hands reminds me that I should pick up more of those portable hand sanitizer bottles for my purse. It’s almost cold and flu season. I’m about to reach into my tote and rifle around for a bottle, so I can use it before and after I shake Fred and Stephanie’s hands, but Tamara moves on to talk to Kelly, and it’s my turn to greet Fred.
Following April’s lead, I shake his hand, fake-introduce myself as a friend of Kelly’s and tell him I’m sorry for his family’s loss. He fake-introduces himself as Fred, Paul and Kelly’s brother-in-law, and thanks me for coming. I tell him that Kelly mentioned how supportive he and his wife have been this past week while silently hoping he feels awkward with all this pretending, because I know I do.
Tamara moves along to Stephanie, so I move along to Kelly, while wiping the hand that touched Fred on my dress.
I hug Kelly and tell her to call, text, or show up anytime day or night if she needs anything. I tell her the town already feels different without Paul. It’s not a lie.
I move along to Stephanie and extend my hand for her to shake. Her handshake is weak and limp, and when she tries to end the handshake, I tighten my grip just enough to stop her from pulling her hand away. Then I place my other hand over our conjoined hands.
“I’ve heard so much about you,” I say.
I finally let Stephanie pull her hand away from mine. She looks uncomfortable. Good. Though I get the feeling she’s uncomfortable generally. Blackmailing witch.
“Kelly says you’ve been really amazing this week. She’s so lucky to have you. She says you and Fred have even taken time off work to support her. What is it you do again?”
I maintain eye contact, and when she averts her eyes, I move my head to compel her to look me in the eye again, engaging her in some kind of weirdly passive-aggressive staring contest I’m determined to win. I think I’ve even stopped blinking.
“I’m an attorney,” she replies.
Even her voice is weak and mousey.
“Right! I remember now,” I say, still maintaining eye contact.
I force myself to fake-smile and summon the most chipper sounding voice I have.
“I think you know my husband, Adam Martel!”
I turn to Adam who is just finishing his conversation with Kelly.
“Adam, you know Stephanie, right? You both work at the same firm, I think?”
I look back at Stephanie.
“I’m sorry, I meant to say worked. Adam left the firm last week, but I’m sure you know all about that.”
I pause to let her squirm, then continue. “Such a small world! Stephanie, we’re so sorry for your family’s loss,” I say, mustering my most consoling tone of voice and tilting my head.
I walk away watching Adam and Stephanie’s interaction closely. I don’t see any sparks or chemistry between them. If there’s still any attraction, it’s not palpable. In fact, from where I’m standing, their conversation looks downright awkward, but that could be the result of the scene I just made. They shake hands, and he walks away. I hope their exchange was as uncomfortable for them as it looked.
“What was that, Meg?” Adam asks.
“I’m sorry,” I respond. “I’ve never met my husband’s girlfriend before. I don’t know what etiquette is correct in this situation. Please forgive me.”
I say the last three words with extra sarcasm. I look away from him because I’m fighting the urge to yell and say things I know I’ll regret. I walk closer to where April and Tamara are standing.
“Stop calling her my girlfriend. She’s not my girlfriend,” Adam says.
I look at him, and he rolls his eyes, which only makes me more frustrated.
“Mistress? Concubine? Significant other? What label do you two prefer?” I ask. “Is it awkward having your wife and girlfriend in the same room?”
“I’m going to the bar to get a drink and give you some space. I’ll get you a drink, too. You need one,” he says calmly.
He turns to April and Tamara, “Ladies, can I get you anything from the bar?”
While avoiding looking at Adam, I notice an elderly couple approach Kelly with a plate of food and motion for her to sit on one of the sofas by the fireplace.
The woman puts the plate down in front of Kelly and begins cutting the food into bite size pieces. Recognizing a mom-move when I see one, I realize the elderly couple are Kelly’s parents.
The family settles in the sitting area by the fireplace. Then Fred leans over to Stephanie, says something in her ear, and she nods. Fred gets up, slips away from his in-laws, and heads toward the door with me right behind him.
Chapter 19
As I follow Fred past the bar, I see Adam, and when we make eye contact, I say, “Stay here,” silently, exaggerating each word so he can read my lips.
I follow Fred outside and onto the sidewalk in front of the pub. He turns the corner and disappears beside the building, so that’s what I do, too.
When I round the corner, his back and his left foot are leaning against the brick wall of the pub, his head is down, his left hand is cupping the lighter in his right hand, and he’s lighting the cigarette he’s gripping between his lips.
“Filthy habit,” I say to let him know I’m here.
He looks at me, pulls a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and extends his arm toward me, silently offering me one. I raise my hand in a stop gesture and shake my head no. I take a step closer, but make sure I’m still visible from the sidewalk, so if I scream someone can see me.<
br />
“So, you’re Paul’s brother-in-law. I didn’t see that coming.”
He exhales a cloud of smoke.
“I assumed you knew,” he says, “Doesn’t everyone in this town know everything about everyone else?”
I used to think so, but the past seven days have taught me that there are a lot of secrets in Harmony Lake, and I’m happier not knowing most of them.
“Well, you don’t live in this town. I’d never seen you before the day you showed up to blackmail me. I saw you arguing with Paul in a car the day he died, and I did mention that to the police. Why did you give Paul the photos? So, he could blackmail us, too?”
“I didn’t blackmail you. I blackmailed Adam,” Fred clarifies.
He takes a long drag from his cigarette.
“Same thing,” I point out.
“I didn’t give Paul the pictures. We didn’t know how he got them until after he died. Steph texted Kelly and told her about the affair the day before Paul died and sent the pictures to her. Kelly told the police she thinks Paul found the pictures when he was nosing around her phone and stole them. Steph didn’t tell Kelly who the guy in the picture was, only that it was a guy from work,” He chuckles. “You should’ve seen her face when she found out it was your husband.”
Fred chuckles again and slaps his knee, then looks at me without turning his head towards me.
So how did Paul know it was Adam in the photos? He might have recognized Adam’s tattoo, but I’m not sure he’s ever seen it. More likely, he knew Adam and Stephanie worked together and took a stab in the dark that it was Adam. Then Adam inadvertently confirmed it by not denying it was him in the photos when Paul sent them to him and demanded cash.
“I would never give the pictures to him. He’s sneaky. He’d find a way to use them for his benefit.” He flicks the ash off the tip of his cigarette. “Do you think I want the world to know my wife slept with your husband? If Paul knew and had the pictures to prove it, that’s what would have happened, the whole world would know because of him. At least now that he’s dead I don’t have to deal with him or his problems anymore.”
He takes another deep drag from what’s left of the cigarette.
“What were you and Paul arguing about in the car?” I ask.
I have nothing to lose by asking. This could be the only chance I get to question Fred, so I should ask all my questions now, while he’s talkative.
“Paul owes me money. He told me he would pay me back by blackmailing Adam with the pictures. I was angry that he had the pictures and wanted him to delete them and pretend he never saw them. But Paul’s greedy and there’s no way he’d delete them if he could use them to squeeze money out of someone.”
Fred says all of this matter-of-factly, like he has nothing to hide, then he flicks the cigarette butt into the distance, and we watch it disappear.
Paul told Jay he got the money to repay the loan from his brother-in-law, and Fred just confirmed that Paul owed him money. This statement to Jay might be the only truthful thing I can confirm Paul saying.
“If he owes you money, why kill him? He can’t pay you back if he’s dead.”
I take a step backwards in case Fred freaks out about being accused of murder, and I need to run.
“I didn’t kill Paul, but I’ve been tempted more than once, trust me,” he answers, shaking his head. “I was sound asleep when Kelly called from the police station to tell us what happened. I was so tired from the previous two days. Learning about Steph’s affair, talking with her to try to save our marriage, dealing with you and Adam, and arguing with Paul made me so exhausted, I passed out right after dinner and slept like I was in a coma. I was so out of it, Steph had a hard time waking me up to go to the police station, and she had to drive because I kept nodding off.”
He uses his left foot to push himself away from the wall and stands with both feet on the ground, facing me.
“Look, I don’t like Paul and I don’t trust Paul, but Kelly loves him, and I love her like a sister. I love my wife and it hurts her when Kelly suffers, so I would never do that to them. And honestly, I never expected Paul to pay me back. He was kind of spiralling financially before he died.” He twirls his index finger down in a circular motion. “In fact, he’s still costing me money even in death.”
Fred chuckles and coughs a phlegmy smoker’s cough.
“How is your dead brother-in-law costing you money?” I ask.
“Who do you think is paying for all this?” he answers my question with a question. “Kelly can’t afford this spread. She also can’t cover the cost of the funeral or cremation. Steph and I are footing the bill. When I heard he died, I thought, at least his life insurance would cover his final expenses, but we found out yesterday he let the premiums lapse almost a year ago. Kelly has nothing but the business and the contents of the apartment.”
With that, Fred walks past me, rounds the corner, and goes back into the pub.
I follow him around the corner and lean against the wall next to the pub door for a minute to process everything Fred just told me before I go back inside.
Instead of crossing suspects off the list, I’ve found more reasons to keep everyone on the list. First Ryan, with his robbery scheme, criminal history, and revolving door of alibis; then Kelly who wants to protect her home and business from her husband’s financially destructive behaviour, and maybe stop him from checking her text messages and calendar entries; and Fred, who admits he hated Paul, was angry because Paul might expose Stephanie’s affair with Adam and was tired of bailing him out financially.
And, as much as I hate to admit it and find it impossible to believe, I have to put my own feelings aside and admit that Adam belongs on the list with them. He was being blackmailed by Paul, and he didn’t come home the night Paul was killed. He’d already lost his job because of this affair, so maybe being blackmailed for cash on top of that was too much and it pushed him over the edge.
I take a deep breath and go back inside. Adam is standing just inside the door on the left and Eric is on the right. I avoid looking at Eric because I’m angry at him right now. He knew Kelly and Stephanie were sisters and never mentioned it. He literally stood by and watched while I was blindsided. Again. It’s like watching people (me, specifically) squirm is his hobby, or something.
I accept the glass of Pinot from Adam and take a long sip.
“Are you OK?” Adam asks. “I worried when he came back in and you didn’t. I was about to come looking for you.”
“I’m more confused than before I spoke to him, but other than that I’m fine,” I mumble.
I take a deep breath and repeat, "heavy shoulders long arms," a few times in my head to help release the tension in my neck and shoulders.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see flailing arms. April is trying to get my attention. Now that the crowd is starting to thin out, she, Tamara, and Connie were able to claim a booth.
Adam and I join them. I sit down, put my tote on the floor under the booth and fill them in on my conversation with Fred.
April and I are both in awe of Kelly’s lying skills. When we saw her at the grocery store on Monday, she didn’t let on that she knew about Stephanie and Adam. Also, neither of us recall her referring to her sister by name, just as “my sister,” and I’m wondering if that was intentional. But then she insisted I come to the celebration of life today, so she must have known I’d find out her sister and Stephanie Murphy are the same person. Maybe I’m over thinking it. She could be so deeply mired in her own grief that lying to me or covering for her sister’s bad decisions isn’t even on her radar right now.
“Well, either she’s grieving and doesn’t care, or she’s an academy award worthy actor,” Connie observes.
“Paul was going through Kelly’s phone? Maybe she found out and got angry. Or maybe she found out that he was blackmailing Adam and threatening to expose her sister in the process, and it pushed her over the edge,” Tamara surmises.
It certainly does seem li
ke there were trust issues in Paul and Kelly’s marriage, at least on his part. Especially when he found out that Kelly was texting and meeting with Adam in the summer. I’m careful not to share this bit of information with anyone else because Adam told me in confidence. The only person he told, aside from me, is Eric Sloane. If only he were as discreet with his personal relationships as he is with his professional ones, we wouldn’t be tangled up in this tangled yarn of a murder investigation.
“Until today, I thought Fred was the least likely suspect because Paul owed him money and it’s hard to collect a debt from a dead man, but today Fred said he wasn’t expecting Paul to pay him back. Also, until yesterday, the family thought Paul was insured, but they found out he stopped paying the premiums almost a year ago. So, maybe he killed Paul for the insurance and it backfired,” I suggest.
“I think Fred is the strongest contender for the title of Killer,” April says. “If we were betting, I’d put my money on him.”
“I don’t know.” I bite the inside of my lip while I wrestle with the gut feeling that Fred didn’t do it. “He kept referring to Paul in the present, you know? Like he said ‘I don’t like Paul. Paul owes me money. He is sneaky. Wouldn’t the killer use past tense? And he didn’t hesitate to talk to me, like he has nothing to hide.”
Or maybe he’s just fed up with being suspected of murder and wants to wrap this up already. If that’s the case, I can relate because I feel the same way; this would be the only thing Fred Murphy and I have in common.
“We know he’s capable of blackmail, and lying, so how big of a leap is it to murder someone?” Connie theorizes.
Everyone shrugs and nods their heads. I’m conflicted. Logically, I know Fred is a strong suspect, but my instincts don’t agree.
“Are you ready to head out?” Adam asks me.
“I think I’ll stay and have another glass of wine. Then I’ll walk Connie home. So, I’ll see you at home,” I say, smiling at him.
“Meg, there’s a murderer in our midst and you’re asking questions and trying to figure out who it is. You could be putting yourself in danger. I’d feel better if I walk you and Connie home.”
