All My Exes Live in Texas

by Aimee Gilchrist

  There were four gasps in unison. I could hear each distinctly. They hadn't been aware that Carl had been murdered, or if they had, they were great actors. Finally one of the others broke down, because the wispy gasps were clearly not Daisy. I was going to go out on a limb and assume it was Faith.

  "But who would kill Carl?" Daisy cried.

  "Well, you know, I had just the same question," Connie said, sounding so sweet and friendly.

  Finally, one of the boys spoke. "Wait. So, like, someone killed him?"

  Definitely high.

  "Yes, they did. Why would someone do that?"

  "I don't know. 'Cause he was a dick?" whichever boy was talking said, and the other snorted with laughter.

  Yikes.

  "Apollo!" Daisy's voice was infused with horror. "Your father is dead."

  Both boys shut down, and their voices and laughter stopped.

  "Why did you slap Mr. Crowe this morning?" Connie asked, her voice steely.

  Daisy cleared her throat softly. "Mr. Crowe wasn't always completely aware of the proper relationship between employer and employee. But certainly that isn't worth murdering someone over."

  "What is worth murdering someone?" Connie requested. That question shut the whole group up again. Finally, Connie started up again. "Where were you for the last two hours of the Spring Fest?"

  Daisy spoke. "I was just in the crowd. Dozens of people must have seen me. I don't know why anyone here would kill Carl. He was the heart and soul of this company. Oh, I do hope that they don't change their mind about a new plant." She seemed genuinely concerned. "His death makes everything so much more complicated. I really do need to call a meeting."

  Connie didn't seem to take the hint that Daisy wanted to go. She turned her attention to the boys. "Well, now, boys, tell me what you were doing today?"

  I wanted to say there was no way that a couple of kids would kill their father, but I knew that wasn't true. Especially if there were drugs involved, and I knew from research that plenty of teens had killed their entire family, let alone a single parent. It wasn't safe to discount people just because of their age.

  The silence dragged out, and I wondered if they were just confused by the question or if they were looking for viable options for an answer that didn't include toking up. "We were just asking around to see if there's a local party scene," one of them answered at last.

  "Who did you ask for this information?"

  There was no answer to Connie's question, and furious again that I couldn't see them, I pictured the boys eying each other. "Just some people."

  Connie's voice lost all sweetness or give. "I'm going to need names to consider this an alibi."

  The same boy answered. "Jerry and Sven."

  Sven? There was someone named Sven living in Birdwell? This was news to me, though I'd met several Jerrys before. I was pretty sure I'd never met the one they'd been talking to. I heard the scritch scratch of a pen on paper, and the rest of the party waited in silence for what I had to assume was Connie taking notes.

  Connie's bright voice returned. "Now, Faith, where were you today when your poor daddy got called home?"

  I nearly snorted. It wasn't funny in reality, but Connie's language was oddly hilarious to me. Maybe hysteria was creeping in. Maybe Connie was a weird person and it wasn't just me.

  Faith made a strange, high-pitched mewling noise, which I assumed was crying. Or she was hoarding a very unhappy kitten. Connie could have been just a tad more sensitive, considering the topic. "I don't know when he died. Just that it was sometime today."

  That was a good point. I didn't know either except to say it was between two very wide points in time over the space of today. Connie couldn't even know yet. The body had probably just arrived at the county coroner's office.

  "How about you just tell me where you were all day," Connie suggested.

  "I don't know," Faith's soft voice returned. "I was just…around. But I had no reason to kill my father. I just wanted him to love me." She started crying again, and I felt sorry for her. I knew that feeling, of just wanting a parent to care about you seemingly at all. I'd been in that boat until I'd just stopped caring. I trusted her in that respect. Unless it was an accident, which it didn't seem to be, there was little chance Faith would kill her father before she'd gotten the approval she so desperately craved. Plus, Faith seemed so frail; I couldn't imagine she'd be capable of killing a grown man.

  They weren't finished talking in the dining room, but Aodhagan's quick movement to my side told me they were definitely finished in the kitchen and we were running the risk of being caught. He leaned against the wall and pulled me around to the other side of him so we weren't close to the door. We were just two people. Hanging out in the tiny space between the stairs and the wall. You know how we do.

  He pulled out his phone and held it up to me, as though we were in the middle of some casual I'm a murder suspect conversation. There was probably a meme for that. He whispered in my ear as I heard the benches in the kitchen moving. "They're going back to your house. I mean, you know that, right?"

  Of course I knew that. Where else would they go? So I asked him that very question.

  "I don't know, but you must know one of them killed Carl. They're the only options. I'd really feel more comfortable if you weren't in the same house with them."

  I was both touched and irritated by his concern. Go figure. I could take care of myself, but I wasn't really keen on living with almost a dozen murder suspects in a single house. I was about to be like a detective in an Agatha Christie house party murder mystery. I thought for sure he was going to suggest I send all of them to his house, which I still didn't want to do, but he didn't.

  "I'd feel much better if you stay here with me until they're gone. It's probably just safer that way."

  Not only was I surprised by the offer when I'd assumed it would be the other way around, I was scared by it. After this morning, I wasn't sure Aodhagan and me sleeping in the same house was a stellar idea. Then I reminded myself that I at least liked to pretend I had some modicum of control. I also reminded myself that eleven possible killers were about to be snoozing in my sanctuary. That was a definite no for me.

  "Yeah, okay."

  He nodded. "Good. Thanks. I'll even lock the door."

  What a relief. People in Birdwell and their refusal to lock their doors.

  One by one the Crowe crew started to emerge into the hallway. I gave the keys to my house to Vi once I saw her come out. I explained that I had decided the house was too crowded after last night and that I would be staying elsewhere. Vi eyed Aodhagan, and I knew it wasn't exactly a mystery where I'd be sleeping instead. But she didn't object. Merely took the keys and left. The others followed after her. When only Dwight and Connie remained, she smiled at us in a way that made my skin itch.

  "Don't be leaving town, you hear. I just have so many questions."

  I did too. But most of them weren't for Connie. The questions I had for her were ones she probably wouldn't answer anyway. Why do you have a Minnesotan accent? Why do you have tennis whites on? Why are you conducting interviews? Why focus on Aodhagan? All destined to remain mysteries ostensibly forever.

  Once she was gone, Dwight watched her leave with his nose twitching like a confused bunny. "She's barking up the wrong tree," he said at last. Both Aodhagan and I nodded sagely at that one. Dwight shrugged. "I gotta get back before Floyd and Connie start cutting up that appliances guy."

  I flinched slightly at the way he phrased it but did agree with the sentiment. I wanted someone who liked Aodhagan, and not for a crime, to be around when the autopsy was done.

  Once Dwight was gone, I turned to Aodhagan. "Do you think my house will be safe from the Crowes?"

  Aodhagan shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Vi has a staggering sense of entitlement. But if you need anything from there, I'd like to go and get it or at least go with you to get it. Please."

  I was equal parts touched and bothered by his protectiveness. "D
o you think…?" I hated myself for asking. "Do you think Lucky is safe?"

  He looked down, clearly hoping I wouldn't see his amusement in asking about a cat I mostly hated. But as much as he clawed me and ate my expensive imported fish, he was still alive, and I felt a degree of discomfort leaving anything alive in the care of the Vile Crowes.

  "I'll go get him and bring him back."

  I nodded. "Might as well pick up some clothes while you're at it. You know where my stuff is."

  I'd intended to go with him, but Lucky was going to be in the car, and I didn't have a carrier. That was a combination I wanted no part of. Like most people, places, or things in Birdwell, Lucky seemed fond of Aodhagan. They'd do okay together. I'd step out in ribbons.

  It took Aodhagan over an hour to get to my house and back, slugging my overnight bag over one arm and a limp Lucky under the other. He shut the door and dropped Lucky and bag onto the floor. He blew out a slow breath, and I could tell he was exhausted.

  "Didn't go well?" I asked, dodging a hissing Lucky as he ran past me and into the kitchen.

  Aodhagan shrugged. "It was okay. It was just a little hard keeping Lucky in my arms and Vi out of them. Apparently now she needs sympathy, though she seemed rather indifferent earlier."

  I cocked my head. "You didn't give her any?"

  "Frankly, I'm a little scared of Vi. She's way more aggressive than I remember, and I'm not interested. So talk to me. What did your group have to say earlier?"

  "They talked about why Daisy slapped Carl earlier and then about where everyone was during the time that he died."

  Aodhagan's attention was keen. "What did they say?"

  "Daisy said she slapped Carl because he was sexually harassing her. I mean, she used different words, but that's what she said."

  "Did that seem to match with what you saw?"

  I shrugged. "Maybe. He didn't seem overly angry at her for slapping him, so who knows. If he felt like it wasn't a shock, he'd probably react less strongly."

  He nodded. "What about the others? Where were they when Carl was killed?"

  "No one seems quite sure when he was killed, but they all basically just said they were wandering around the festival, which is going to make alibiing them difficult. There was probably no one filming, so keeping track of them for every moment of the festival will be impossible. Faith said she was around, but she never would have killed her father because all she wanted was love, which she'd never get if he was dead. The teenagers did say they were talking to a couple of guys named Jerry and Sven."

  Aodhagan hesitated. "Are you sure that's what they said? Jerry and Sven?"

  I couldn't understand why he'd wonder if I was sure or what kind of people were making up duos named after a cartoon mouse and a cartoon reindeer. "Yeah, that's what he said. Jerry and Sven."

  Aodhagan's eyebrows drew together. "I think it's possible those boys weren't after drugs. Jerry and Sven are a couple of lowlifes out of Tallatahola, and the last I heard, they were trying to bill themselves as hit men."

  Given the possibility that Carl's teenage sons had hired a couple of local losers to stab their dad in the spine, I was even gladder to be in Aodhagan's house. Who knew how stupid Jerry and Sven were? I didn't want to be an accidental victim. It also didn't make me feel any better when the skies opened up and poured, followed by all the power going out. Aodhagan just smirked at my horror when he was reminded that I'd never experienced a Birdwell spring before. Infrastructure was an issue.

  After learning that the lights wouldn't come back on until morning, I was faced with a choice I didn't love. I wasn't keen on being alone in Aodhagan's sister Jane's room in a blackout with a family of potential killers kicking it in Birdwell. I also wasn't keen on being in Aodhagan's room all night either. I didn't trust myself, frankly. And if I were Aodhagan, I wouldn't trust me, either. It had been a long dry spell. I decided to just ask him to stay up as long as possible before retreating to our own rooms. That way I could have company until I was too exhausted to stay awake. It was my favorite way to handle an anxiety-filled night, and if there was anything I knew, it was anxiety. It had long been my friend—or at least my companion I was grudgingly accepting of.

  We curled up on the couch in Aodhagan's formal living room. Aodhagan lit the fireplace, something that I had never seen him do, and grabbed some blankets from upstairs. He closed the blinds on his room-wide floor-to-ceiling windows because they also made me nervous, and we made ourselves comfortable, ready to kill time until I couldn't stay awake anymore.

  "So what did you hear from the kitchen?" I asked as Lucky jumped onto the couch and started kneading Aodhagan's lap before settling. When I moved, he hissed at me. I sighed, slumping back in my seat. You might say I shouldn't let a cat control me. You also might not have ever seen a cat like Lucky.

  "Leslie, Glen, and Jackson all acted like they didn't know anything. They said they were all over the place during the fest. Leslie said she was with Robert, who's apparently her husband, but he was in another room, so I didn't hear him back up that alibi. Jackson said he was all over the grounds, and I did see him a few times."

  "So did I," I pointed out, not remembering exactly where, though I was certain I had.

  "Leslie said she liked Carl, albeit she reluctantly admitted she is one of the few who did and he was generally a bristly kind of guy. But she strikes me as a bristly kind of girl. She said she's been working for Crowe for ten years and only married Robert about six years ago. Robert is the oldest son, I think. It seems she thinks he'll take over the company."

  "Wait, they don't know who's in charge of the company now?"

  Aodhagan shrugged in the low light. "I guess not. No one seemed certain. But if it is Robert, I guess that's a motive. We just don't know any of them well enough to say what they're really thinking."

  "Except Vi, in the biblical sense anyway."

  Aodhagan snorted. "That's true, I guess, but that was a heck of a long time ago to try to understand her motivations now. Though I suppose he had plenty of life insurance."

  I glanced at him. "So you're not even social media friends? You really haven't spoken to her in twenty years?"

  "I haven't. Sorry I don't know more. Glen said he's been with the company for years. He seemed a bit lost and confused. I think Crowe Appliances might be all he really has. I don't think he was prepared for any of this, and if I had to say right now, I'd guess he isn't guilty, but who knows for sure."

  "What about Jackson?" I had spotted Shiny Teeth Jackson in the crowd hitting on the few ladies in Birdwell, but he was in the wrong place if he wasn't into the sexy septuagenarian set.

  "He said that he's been friends with Faith since high school, and although I thought Faith must surely be the youngest by a lot of years, I guess she's not."

  That was odd. I would have pictured Faith being no more than maybe twenty-one, and I would have guessed that Jackson was closer to thirty. That they were the same age seemed impossible to me.

  "He says he started with an internship right after college and has been working there since."

  "How long was that?" How old was Faith?

  "He said about six years since college. So I guess they're both about twenty-seven, give or take."

  I wasn't sure what any of that meant in terms of Carl's murder, but I was just weirded out by the information. "So all three of them seemed sincere?"

  He shrugged. "At first glance, but of course that means nothing in reality. I wish I could have seen their faces."

  "It was driving me crazy," I agreed. "And I wish we could have heard the group in here."

  There was a loud boom of thunder outside, but for one second I thought it was someone banging on the door and I started violently. So much that it chased Lucky away. Aodhagan laughed. He scooted closer to me and slid his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. It was clear to me he didn't mean anything sexual by it. There was none of the searing heat in his vibe the way there'd been earlier. But that didn't mean it wasn't a ba
d idea. Except I'd been snuggling with him for months. He'd already apologized for earlier, and if I didn't want him to know how weak I was when he was the matter at hand, I couldn't ask him to change the rules now. If I did, he'd know immediately, and then it would be all downhill from there.

  I decided to relax, mainly because I just desperately wanted to. I had to give myself an excuse though. Warmth. It was just for warmth and safety.

  I snuggled into his side, telling myself one night sleeping at his place wouldn't hurt anything. I'd gotten control of myself, just like I said I would. There was absolutely no danger. Totally. None.

  We sat in silence for a long time. I was nearly asleep, lulled by the safety of him, the heat of his skin, the steady beat of his heart, when a question occurred to me. I'd believed Aodhagan was hiding the truth of his previous career from me because he didn't like talking about it. When it had turned out to be simply something I hadn't noticed, I hadn't connected right away that other things I thought were hidden might be too.

  "Aodhagan, what are you doing in Birdwell?"

  The last time I'd asked, I'd gotten a glib answer. This time I felt the tension in his body, the tightening of his muscles, the staccato increase of his heartbeat. But he didn't try to do what he'd done last time. He threaded his fingers in my hair and stroked it until his heartbeat returned to its original slow thump. I tried to ignore how good the motions felt because he was doing them to calm himself. It wasn't his fault if it had the opposite effect on me.

  "Penance," he whispered at last.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  That much was obvious before he'd even said it. "I know."

  He buried his face in my hair for a long moment, breathing deeply. He exhaled on a sigh. "I…struggled. Growing up here. My…idiosyncrasies might not have been so obvious in a big city, in a big school. In a place where people have diversity. Somewhere in that crowd, there could have been another kid like me. One who didn't think inside the box. Or outside the box. Or wasn't even quite sure where the box was."