“Marnie!” I screamed. Everyone in the shop stopped and stared at me. “Uh, I’m sorry. I don’t feel so well.” I doubled over, pretending to be in pain. Marnie jumped up and rushed over.
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Behind her, Melinda watched me intently.
“Just help me upstairs. I need to lie down.”
“Of course. Here, hold on to my arm,” Marnie said. “Would you mind keeping an eye on the shop?” she called to Margaret. We stopped at the counter, picked up our purses, and made our way out of the shop and to the private entrance. I ran up the stairs and made a beeline for the living room.
“What are you doing? You need to lie down,” Marnie said. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this.”
“I have to call the police,” I said, snatching my cell phone from my bag.
“What are you talking a—”
I shushed her as the phone was answered. Under Marnie’s confused stare, I asked the dispatcher to connect me to Officer Lombard.
“I have some information about Bruce Doherty’s murder.” Marnie’s eyes widened. I gave the woman my name, address, and phone number.
“I’ll get her to call you right back,” the woman said.
“What information?” Marnie asked as soon as I put the telephone down.
“I think I know who killed him.”
“Who?”
“Melinda Wilson. She used to be married to him.”
“What? But that doesn’t make any sense. Melinda is a widow. Her husband was killed in Afghanistan eight years ago.”
“Marnie,” I said, taking her hands in mine, “I just saw her wedding picture.” I told her how I’d looked through the woman’s wallet. “It was him, all right. He was standing next to her, wearing a tux. She was wearing a white wedding dress. From the hair and makeup, I’d say it was taken about ten years ago.”
The doorbell rang, and I jumped up.
“It’s Officer Lombard,” the voice said through the intercom. I buzzed her up and soon she and Officer Harrison were sitting with us in the living room. “We were just driving by when we got the call from dispatch.”
I repeated what I’d just told Marnie.
“And you’re certain the man in the photo was Bruce Doherty?” Harrison questioned.
“Absolutely. The picture wasn’t big, but it showed him from the waist up and cropped very closely. It was him—no question about it.”
“Are you going to arrest her?” Marnie asked. She sounded more worried than relieved. “I can’t believe she could have killed him.”
“We don’t know that yet,” the policewoman said. “This is just another piece of the puzzle. But we’ll question her.” She and her partner stood. “Thank you for reporting this,” she said, heading for the door. “Please let us know if you learn anything else.”
“I will,” I said, and closed the door behind them.
I returned to the living room, where Marnie sat in shocked silence.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “Would you like a glass of water?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Tell me something. Why did you rush in screaming my name? Did you think I was in danger?”
“I wasn’t about to take any chances. Helen was poisoned. If Melinda murdered her, who knows what’s going through her mind?”
“You think she might have poisoned me?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. “I always considered Melinda a friend. After everything I did for her, you think she was Bruce’s accomplice? She wanted to murder me?”
“We don’t know that,” I said, hearing the uncertainty in my own voice. I picked up the phone.
“Who are you calling now?”
“Matthew. I phoned him after finding Melinda’s wedding picture. He’s the reason I got you out of there and called the police. He’s probably sitting on pins and needles, waiting to find out what happened.”
Marnie got to her feet. “I’ll be downstairs,” she said. “I could use a cup of coffee. One without poison.”
• • •
When I rejoined her a little while later, Jenny and Margaret were standing around the counter, listening in fascination to Marnie’s retelling of the events.
“I was really worried about you,” Jenny said.
“I’ll have to remember what a good actress you are,” Margaret added.
“You really think Melinda could have . . .” Jenny shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”
“Please, nobody repeat this to anyone. If I’m wrong about this, I could be slapped with a slander suit. I just spoke to Matthew and he pointed out something: for all we know, she could have been divorced from him for years.”
“Didn’t you tell me that she and Bruce were having a clandestine conversation at your party?” said Jenny. “To me, that suggests something was afoot.”
“That’s how it sounds,” I admitted. “But I know Matthew will say that doesn’t prove a thing.”
The shop remained quiet for the next couple of hours, then shortly after lunch, droves of people started coming in. Marnie joined me at the counter.
“Something’s happened,” she said, sounding uneasy.
“I think you’re right.” The atmosphere had changed. One could almost hear the drums beating. We watched as one after another, women were carving a path to Jenny’s coffee shop.
Soon Margaret came scurrying over from the back. “I just heard. The police questioned Melinda and then released her.”
“Who told you she was released?”
“Everybody is talking about it,” she said. “One of her customers happened to be in her shop when the police came to pick her up. And then a few hours later somebody saw the police drop her off.” She leaned in. “What if she comes after Marnie?”
Marnie paled. “Do you really think she might?”
“Of course not,” I said. “But if you’re worried, why don’t you stay over at my place tonight? You’ll feel safer if you’re not alone.”
“I wish I could, but I have some baking to do. You could come stay with me. Please?”
Margaret’s and Marnie’s panic was beginning to influence me. “All right. I’ll ask Matthew if I can keep Winston overnight. I’ll bring him along,” I added. “We’ll be fine. If anybody tries to come after you, I’ll sic Winston on them. He’ll lick them to death.”
“Scary,” Margaret said, with a roll of her eyes.
• • •
By the end of the day, none of Jenny’s clients had so much as glanced at my displays. They had all walked straight through to Coffee, Tea and Destiny, leaving me with the lowest sales I’d had in a long time. There wasn’t even enough money to warrant making a bank deposit.
Jenny and Margaret took off, and Marnie, Winston, and I left a few minutes later. I ran up to my apartment for a pair of pajamas and a container of Winnie’s food.
“Let’s walk,” I said, returning downstairs. “Winnie needs the exercise.”
“It won’t hurt me a bit either,” she said. “So Matthew didn’t mind you keeping him?”
“He wasn’t there when I called, so I left him a message. He won’t mind.”
Once at her place, we went straight to the kitchen. I pulled up a stool and watched as she prepared one of my favorite dishes, veal scaloppine.
“No, Winnie, this is people food,” I said. He hung his head and plodded away, sulking.
“You know,” Marnie said as she heated up a cast-iron frying pan, “I never mentioned it, but I couldn’t help but notice the way Melinda was glaring at me at the party.”
“Maybe she wasn’t very happy at seeing Bruce in a relationship with you.”
“Ha. Some relationship. She had nothing to be unhappy about. We never even slept together,” she said. “He wanted to wait, out of respect for me.” She slapped the veal into the flour. “
And I thought that was so sweet.” She shook her head, muttering something under her breath.
I was quiet for a few minutes, thinking over the events on the night of the party. “I wonder if she knew Brent would be there.” Another thought occurred to me. “Maybe she didn’t know that your fiancé was the same man she used to be married to. If that was the case, seeing him there must have come as quite a shock.”
“If you’re right, that means she had nothing to do with this plot,” Marnie said, looking hopeful.
“I think I should go over and have a bit of a talk with her.”
“If she’s guilty she’ll invite you in and then put cyanide in your coffee.”
“Ha, ha. Maybe I’ll stop by her shop tomorrow instead.”
“Hand me those, will you?” She pointed to the jar of capers. “Thanks. I’d think twice before doing that. If Melinda knows you called the police on her, you’d better be ready for fireworks.” She had a good point.
We had a quiet dinner, over which Marnie told me about being questioned at the police station.
“Now that they found out about Melinda’s history with Bruce, I’m probably not the main suspect anymore,” she said.
“How did you explain your ring being in Bruce’s room?”
“I told them the truth. I figured they’d either believe me or they wouldn’t. Besides, if I lied and they later found out, then I’d be as good as convicted.”
“I’m glad you decided not to lie.”
“They put me in a small room and made me sit there by myself for over an hour before they even started. I had plenty of time to think about it. If that was their goal, it worked. By the time they came in, I was singing like a canary.”
I laughed, picturing Marnie trembling under the light shining in her eyes. “You would make a terrible spy.”
“I’d spill the beans at the very sight of thumb screws.” She giggled.
“There’s something I never asked you,” I said. “Why did you wait so long to introduce him to all your friends?”
Marnie blushed. Squirming, she said, “The truth is I couldn’t believe he was really interested in me. I kept expecting him to stop calling. But then, when he asked me to marry him, I believed he was being sincere. That’s when I told you. The night you threw me the surprise party, I’d just asked Bruce if he’d like to meet everyone.” Her eyes barely watered, and giving a self-conscious laugh she blinked the tears away, making me believe that she would recover sooner than anybody expected her to. Marnie was a resilient person.
After cleaning up, I suggested we make it an early night and Marnie agreed.
“I’ll take the sofa,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
I bounced on it, testing its comfort. “Absolutely,” I said. “This is fine. And Winnie can sleep on the floor right next to me.” I flapped a sheet, spreading it over the sofa, then added another sheet and blankets.
“Hold on a minute,” she said, hurrying away. She reappeared carrying a pillow and a folded bathrobe. “Here. I know it might be a bit big for you, but it’s the smallest one I have.” It was a pink chenille robe, a few sizes too large for my five-foot-nothing frame. “Just tie the belt tight and it’ll be okay. And this is for Winnie.” She placed a folded blanket at the foot of the sofa. “You’ll be nice and cozy here.” She patted Winnie on the head and he stretched out on his makeshift bed.
I climbed in. “Not bad,” I said. “Almost as comfortable as my own bed.”
Marnie said good night and turned off the lights. I must have fallen asleep within minutes because the next thing I knew, I woke up with a start. Winston was growling, a low, menacing rumbling deep in his throat. I’d caught him making that sound only once before, seconds before he attacked an intruder brandishing a gun. I sat up, glancing around the room nervously, but the darkness was so dense a prowler could have been inches away and I wouldn’t have seen him. From the direction of Marnie’s bedroom came the sound of snoring. Whatever had alerted the dog, it wasn’t her.
“What is it, Winnie?” I whispered. And then I heard it, a metallic clang that seemed to come from the kitchen area. I threw back my blankets and felt around for Marnie’s bathrobe. I slipped it on. “Quiet, Winnie,” I said. By now, my eyes were growing accustomed to the dark. I could make out shadows well enough to avoid bumping into furniture. I tiptoed to the kitchen, barely breathing, I was so nervous. I’d made it to her old kitchen, when I heard the second clang. The noise seemed to come from the professional kitchen, just beyond this one. I slid my hand along the Formica countertop until I felt the knife block. I grabbed the chef’s knife and stepped forward.
I had just reached the doorway of the professional kitchen when I heard footsteps outside, moving along the side of the house. Winston growled.
“Quiet, Winnie.”
Whoever had been here was leaving. Next came the slam of a car door, and then a motor roared to life. I ran through the house to the living room window in time to see a car drive away. In the dark, I couldn’t even make out the color.
Damn it. I flicked on the lights and returned to the kitchen, determined to find out what that intruder had been up to.
“What the hell is going on?” Marnie’s voice startled me. I dropped the knife, and it stuck into the linoleum floor, barely half an inch from my big toe.
“Marnie! For God’s sake, don’t sneak up on me that way. I almost sliced off my big toe.”
“You’re the one who was sneaking around, not me. What are you doing snooping through my kitchen in the middle of the night? If you’re looking for a midnight snack, come with me. I was just about to start my baking.”
“I heard somebody back here. I came to investigate.”
She stopped. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Winnie heard it first, and his growling woke me up.”
“I can’t believe you were going to confront him. You should know better than that. Confronting an intruder is a good way to get yourself killed.”
“By the time I got here, whoever it was was already on his way out. I got a glimpse of the car as he drove away. And before you ask, no, I couldn’t see the color or the make. But I suspect it might have been a royal blue economy car.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I guess I never told you. Remember the intruder who broke into Helen’s house while I was there? I got a peek at that car as it drove away. It was a small royal blue car. Then, earlier, when I got you out of the coffee shop, I noticed that the car Melinda was driving was also royal blue, though I couldn’t swear that it was the same one.”
“You think Melinda broke into my house? That’s ridiculous. How would she have gotten in?”
“Beats me, but I heard a noise coming from back here. A loud metallic clang.”
“I have nothing in here that would make that sound.” She marched over to the massive freezer. “Do you think she might have put poison in my food?” That was a frightening thought. She grabbed the handle and pulled it open. There was a loud beep. Ah, the freezer alarm.
“I would have heard that,” I said. “Whatever she did, she didn’t do it in the freezer.”
She closed it and looked around. “Something that clanged,” she said under her breath. She walked around the kitchen, picking up a frying pan here, a pot there, and banging them on the stainless steel counter.
“No, that sounds flat,” I said. “What I heard had more resonance.”
She paused, thinking. “The garbage can,” she said, her eyes lighting up. She ran to the back door. “It’s the lid. I bought a heavy metal bin because I’m always throwing out leftovers and I wanted something that would keep rodents from getting in. And the lid clangs.” She went to grab it.
“Wait,” I said. “Don’t touch it.” I snatched the wall phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police,�
� I said. “I suspect somebody just planted evidence in your garbage. You, my dear, are being framed.”
• • •
This time the police officers who showed up were two men, Barkley and Jones. Barkley, a big guy with more hair above his lip than on top of his head, looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“You’re telling me that somebody just put something in your garbage can, and you want us to go look for it?”
Luckily his younger partner was more open-minded. “Where is this garbage can?” he asked.
Marnie led the way through the kitchen and opened the back door. “That’s it, there.” She pointed to the metal bin.
“You go ahead if you want,” Barkley said. “But I’d be surprised if there was anything in there but trash.”
Jones hesitated. “You wouldn’t happen to have rubber gloves, would you?”
“I do,” Marnie said. “I’ll get them right away.” She left, returning a minute later with an unused pair of gloves and a garbage bag. “For transferring the trash.”
“Thanks. If you’re right about this, I wouldn’t want to destroy any prints,” he said, struggling to put the gloves on. He raised the lid, took a deep breath, and plunged in. Piece by piece he picked out eggshells, empty sugar bags and milk cartons, a glob of hardened dough. He transferred it all into the garbage bag Jones was holding.
“Hold on,” he said. “What’s this?” He raised a metal container with a twist top. The label read PRO METAL RESTORE.
The officer studied the smaller print. “Cyanide,” he read. “Guess you two were right after all.” He threw his partner a look. “Sometimes it helps to listen.”
“I’ll call it in,” Barkley said, oblivious to the dig. “They’ll want to send a team.” He stepped away, pulling out his cell phone.
“Let me get you another bag for that container,” Marnie said, rushing off again.
“Make that a paper bag, if you don’t mind.” To me, Barkley explained, “Paper preserves prints better.”
Weave of Absence Page 20
