by Amy Lillard
“Which one of you is the other?”
Chloe took another drink of her lethal punch. “Not sure.”
“Well, I’m going to go find her. I’ve got to figure out a way to make her admit that she killed Wally.”
“Good luck with that.” Chloe’s tone was light, but her eyes held a pleading look.
“Thanks.” Arlo snatched up a pink cup of the pink punch and started to wind her way through the crowd. Courtney’s friend whose dad had a “ton of records” ended up being related to Phil from next door to the bookstore. And ton of records was correct. He had everything from “The Purple People Eater” and Chuck Berry to Maroon 5 and Meghan Trainor. And most of the town showed up for the party.
Now it was time to get down to work. Though she wasn’t sure how she was going to get Daisy to admit that she pushed Wally from the third floor of Arlo’s building.
But first she had to find her.
Arlo danced her way through the crowd and across the gym floor. That was where the bathrooms were located, and she figured at some time or another Daisy would have to go pee. Standing outside the ladies’ room door to wait for the woman seemed a little stalkerish, but it sure beat winding through the ever-moving crowd for hours, searching but not finding.
And there was a crowd. It seemed as if the majority of Sugar Springs had turned out for the party. Maybe she needed to offer spiked punch at the book club meetings in order to get a bigger crowd. Then again, the crowd she had right now was difficult enough to deal with sober. She smiled a little. Fern, Camille, and Helen might be a handful, but she didn’t know what she would have done without them during all this time.
Arlo allowed her gaze to wander around the gym. Just as last time, little groups had formed, Cable and Joey and a couple of other men were standing against one wall, drinking punch and assessing the crowd. Mayor England, his brother, Jimmy, who was also the principal of the school, and Leonard the school custodian where in a heated discussion. She didn’t know for certain but it looked like they were talking about the floor. And a few of the Main Street merchants had gathered together. Even Sandy Green and Travis Coleman seemed to have made up. She saw them on the dance floor staring dreamily at each other.
As much as she wanted to find the killer and free Chloe, she knew Travis wasn’t her man. That earring! It mucked up everything. Travis didn’t wear earrings, wasn’t a cross-dresser, and couldn’t afford to purchase such large diamonds. He might have let Wally into the building, but she was certain he couldn’t have been the one to push him out the window. No, someone else was around.
Like the woman of the hour. Daisy James-Harrison. It took only fifteen minutes for her to show up at the entrance to the locker rooms, a.k.a. where the only bathrooms in the gym were. Arlo followed her inside.
The girls’ locker room smelled like every locker room all around the country—like wet mold and gym socks. The only differences were the details. The Lady Blue Devils’ locker room had white walls and royal blue stalls. The paint was chipping off in several places, and if Arlo wasn’t mistaken, that smear of lipstick had happened on her prom night. But that was over ten years ago and surely… She shook her head.
“Excuse me.” Daisy came out of the stall and headed for the sink where Arlo stood. Never mind that there were four others; for some reason Daisy wanted the one she was in front of and that was okay with Arlo because it gave her an excuse to talk to Daisy.
“Sorry. Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you about Wally.”
“I really don’t want to talk about him.” Daisy’s voice was quiet. She washed her hands, dried them on the industrial paper towels, then checked her reflection in the mirror. She really was a pretty thing. Wholesome and graceful, but in a sexy way. And like most of America, Arlo had to wonder why Wally had strayed.
“I’m sorry. I just know I’ll never get this opportunity again. I sat behind Wally in English class senior year. He was always cheating off Danielle Owens’s paper.” Arlo laughed. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized that fact. Wally was always cheating off Danielle. She was the smartest person in class. Sort of like Daisy and her academic career. “In fact, I think I made better grades than he did.”
“It’s not always about grades. It’s about voice and timing. Not just in the writing but in the publishing industry. The world has to be ready for your book.”
“Interesting.”
Daisy tried to move but Arlo stepped in front of her. “How many times are you going to do this today?”
“Sorry. I just know that I’m not going to get another chance like this.”
“I believe you already said that.”
Arlo let out a nervous chuckle. “Did I?” Perhaps she should have thought through her strategy before blocking Daisy in the bathroom.
“Can we finish this someplace less stinky?”
No! She wanted to scream. I don’t want you to be able to get away once I get you to admit that you killed Wally.
“Sure. Sure.” She turned and slowly made her way out of the locker room. She didn’t want to walk too fast and give Daisy an opportunity to lag behind and escape.
Back out in the gym, the music was still playing, and everyone was milling around, eating, drinking, and she supposed being merry, but she still had a job to do.
“Tell me about his process,” Arlo said. “Does he only work in one room? Or have to have certain music playing? Did you know Victor Hugo used to write naked?”
Daisy pinned her with a cold stare. “I did not. And I’m finding this conversation a little annoying.”
“I don’t mean to be a pest,” Arlo said. “I…I want to write a book too.” Not exactly the truth, but at least the lie stopped Daisy from tapping her foot. The woman turned to Arlo. Her expression was still one of annoyance.
“You want to write a book,” she scoffed gently, not enough to be rude, but enough to get her point across. “Everybody wants to write a book. But there are only a few who actually have what it takes to stare at a computer screen for hours on end and live someone else’s life.”
Arlo had never thought about it that way before. She supposed writing would be a little like living a different life. But this wasn’t about her. It was about Wally. “Is that what Wally did?” she asked. “Just stare at the computer until something came to him?”
A small, derisive laugh escaped the pretty young widow. “Wally spent many, many years staring at his computer screen while I worked to put food on the table. But I wanted him to live his dream.” To Arlo’s horror, the woman’s eyes filled with tears. “And do you know what it took?” She sniffed and nodded to a spot across the room to where Inna stood, talking to the mayor and the school janitor. About what was anyone’s guess. “She became his inspiration, and I was left out in the cold.”
“And you hated that.”
“Of course.” She turned her attention back to Arlo. “Anyone would feel the same.”
But would anyone kill because of it?
“So he wrote with Inna.”
Daisy shook her head. “I need a drink.”
“Let’s get some punch.” Arlo led Daisy to the refreshment table. She couldn’t let Daisy out of her sight. Not when she was this close to getting to the truth.
Arlo poured two cups of punch and handed one to Daisy. “So, Inna,” she prompted.
Daisy took a big gulp of the punch. “Always Inna. Every day. All day long.”
“That’s got to be hard on a marriage.”
Daisy shot her a derisive look. “Seriously? You don’t have to pretend that you don’t know Wally was having an affair.”
“I’m sorry.”
Daisy drained the rest of her punch and scooped up another serving. Arlo almost felt sorry for her. In all of this, she seemed more like the victim instead of the bad guy, but there was too much evidence to believe anything else.
�
�Then he up and gets himself killed and leaves me a third of everything. A third.” She shook her head. “I stood by him. Always, and I only get a third.”
Arlo thought it best not to mention that the rest went to his son, a worthy recipient. But Daisy had a point. A third of his estate wasn’t a pittance, but a slap in the face nonetheless since it was the bare minimum of what he legally had to leave to his wife. It was an insult, and Arlo had the feeling, if he could have left her less, he would have.
Daisy sighed, a defeated sound. “He started shutting me out years ago.” She shook her head and smiled a little into her cup. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
Arlo shrugged. “I’ve got one of those faces. People tell me all kinds of things.”
“I suppose.”
Arlo waited.
“You want to write a book?” Daisy asked.
“Uh, yeah.” She had almost forgotten her own lie.
“Well, if you want to know about Wally’s process,” Daisy said after another gulp of punch, “you’ll have to talk to Inna.”
* * *
“How did it go?” Fern sidled up to Arlo fifteen minutes later. She’d had fifteen minutes to stew over what Daisy had said and the weird feeling she was getting about her innocence.
“She seems…sad,” Arlo said finally. It was the best word she could use to describe Daisy.
“Of course she’s sad. Her husband was murdered, and she knows that if she doesn’t get out of this town soon, she’ll be arrested for killing him.” She punched one fist into the palm of her other hand. “I knew we shouldn’t have tipped her off.”
Arlo shook her head. “I don’t think she suspects anything, but I got this really weird feeling that she’s not our guy.” One of those gut feelings like when she was a kid.
“Of course not.” Camille joined them. “She’s a woman.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“Oh?”
“Arlo thinks Daisy’s innocent,” Fern interjected.
Camille’s eyes widened. “What?”
Arlo wrung her hands. “She’s hurt about his affair with Inna, not angry. And jealous and sad. I believe she really loved Wally.” What was it about that man that gave him such devotion from not one but two ladies?
“Jealous, hurt, and sad can push people just as far as angry.”
Arlo watched Daisy from across the room. She was still drinking punch, but she had slowed a little. At least she wasn’t gulping it down like it was the last drink on earth. She was standing in a small circle of people, all Main Street vendors. Joey the dry cleaner, Delores from the jewelry store, and Cable from the menswear shop. Daisy might live in a high-rise in New York City, but there was a little bit of the Missouri farm girl still in there somewhere.
“She would know, don’t you think?” Arlo asked.
“Know what, love?” Camille returned.
“About the mushrooms. Daisy would know that the poison wouldn’t take affect right away. She would know.”
“Perhaps,” Fern acquiesced with a small shrug. “So?”
“So why would she even bother with it?” Arlo asked.
“Maybe she wanted time to convince him of something?”
“So she would convince him and then he would die?” Arlo asked.
“I don’t know,” Fern grumped. “Why would she kill him if she knew she was only getting a third of his estate? She could have bided her time and tried to get back in the will for more.”
“Exactly!” Arlo snapped her fingers. “She didn’t stand to gain all she could from his death. And if she really loved him…” Think, Arlo. Think! She only had a few more hours before her number-one suspect would leave town. Then what would she do?
“Why is everyone over here in the corner looking all serious?” Helen asked as she approached.
Arlo glanced back to Daisy, then let her gaze drift over to Inna. “I tried to get Daisy to confess, but she wasn’t having any of it.”
“And now your goddaughter thinks the killer is innocent,” Fern’s tone was almost accusing.
“Daisy?” Helen asked.
Arlo’s gaze drifted back to the blond. She didn’t look like a killer. But was that a prerequisite? Ted Bundy didn’t look like a killer, but everyone knew how he was. But it was more than a look. Somehow she just knew that Daisy was innocent. It might not be something she could explain, but it was there all the same.
“She didn’t do it,” Arlo said emphatically.
“You’re sure?” Helen returned.
“I am. I don’t know who killed Wally, but it wasn’t his wife.”
* * *
Arlo eased down onto the bleachers and wondered where the night had gone wrong. She’d had such big plans to bring Daisy to justice, to free Chloe, and set everything right. She had failed. Miserably.
“Your party did not go so well.” Inna stopped just in front of Arlo and propped one hand on her hip.
“I thought it went great. Didn’t you have a good time?”
“Da, but that is not what you want. I know.”
Arlo leaned back. “What do you know?”
“You want your friend out of jail. And you want Daisy to go into the jail, no?”
“Yes.” Arlo shook her head. “No.”
“It has to be one or the other.”
“I just want my friend out of jail.” It was the truth. “She didn’t kill Wally.”
“I know.” Inna’s voice was flat, resigned almost.
“You know?”
“Of course. She is not the type. She’s a sweet person, no? Sips her tea from dainty little cups, her marmalade cat curled at her feet. Da, I know the type, and she is not it.”
“I wasn’t aware murderers have a type.”
“Oh, but some do.”
* * *
Inna’s words stayed with Arlo long after she had gone home. Everyone left the gym in a mess, vowing to meet tomorrow at lunch to clean it all up. The only thing anyone worried about was the food.
Arlo looked to her right. In the passenger seat was a foil-wrapped paper plate, covered edge to edge in appetizers—cheese pinwheels, artichoke dip, and stuffed mushrooms. It wouldn’t help with the five pounds she would like to shed, but it would make a great snack tomorrow. Or even tonight.
Thankfully Cindy Jo wasn’t out when Arlo pulled into her drive. She wasn’t up for another conversation about appetizers, the freezer section at the wholesale club, and the “sheriff.” In fact, she didn’t want to think about Mads at all. Come to think of it, she could add Sam to that list as well. She didn’t want to think about anything really, but Inna’s words kept playing in her head over and over. “She’s not the type.”
Arlo wasn’t sure there really was a type that were the only ones capable of murder. But even this stranger could see that Chloe was innocent.
She turned off the engine with a sigh, then she gathered her purse and the plate of appetizers and headed into the house. It was dark and quiet as it always was, but tonight she didn’t enjoy the peace. It only made the words in her head echo even louder. She’s not the type.
Arlo set her midnight snack on the kitchen bar, tossed her purse onto the nearest chair, and kicked off her shoes. She wiggled her toes a bit, then eased toward her bedroom to change. Maybe she would feel better once she put on her pajamas. Or maybe not. Nightclothes would signify that the day was over, the last day she had to prove her friend was innocent.
Or maybe she had been going about this all wrong. Why was Wally killed? Maybe this was about something completely different than cheating husbands. Maybe a person from his past. Someone who knew all his secrets.
And once again she was back to her best friend.
“I know Chloe didn’t do it,” she said to no one. But she wanted the words out in the world.
She isn’t the type, Inna had said. She sips her tea from dainty little cups with her cat curled up at her feet.
It was the perfect mental image of Chloe.
A stranger could see it. Why couldn’t everyone else?
Arlo pulled on a pair of cotton shorty pj’s, then dumped her clothes into the hamper. She should put the food in the fridge and go to sleep. There was nothing she could do now. Nothing but pray that the jury could see through all the BS evidence to who Chloe really was.
She slipped the foil covering from the plate and picked up a pinwheel. It was good of everyone to pull together for Chloe. Too bad it was a bust.
Her cell phone rang. She wiped her fingers on a kitchen towel and then fished the phone out of her purse.
“Hey, Elly.”
“Hello, sweetie.” If nothing else, it was good to hear the familiar voice once again. “Just wanted to check on you.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice was flat.
“You don’t sound fine.”
“I will be. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?”
“I don’t understand how it is that a person who’s innocent can look guilty enough for the police—good police like Mads—to arrest them.”
“Looks are deceiving.”
“But…” Arlo wanted to explain how she couldn’t let it go. It was important. But Helen knew that. She wanted to explain that it wasn’t fair. Helen knew that too. And if they didn’t find the real killer, then Chloe didn’t have a prayer. But Helen knew that as well.
She doesn’t look like the type.
“Oh my gosh!” Arlo almost choked on one of the stuffed mushrooms. “That’s it.”
“What is it?”
“The tea. It all makes sense now. I’ll be right there.”
“Honey, it’s late.”
“First thing in the morning, then. I’m coming over to talk to Inna.”
“Inna?”
“Yes.” Her heart pounded. How could she have been so blind?
“Well, that’s why I called. Inna and Daisy are leaving.”
23
