by N.L. Wilson
Chapter 18
Luanne was nothing if not ultra-efficient.
But was she an ultra-efficient murderer?
Dylan and I were motel-bound for the rest of that rainy afternoon. When Mrs. Presley saw us coming in, she said she’d fix up some sandwiches for our supper.
“Or should I fix up some oysters on the half shell?” she asked. “Strawberries dipped in chocolate? Want me to send down a bottle of wine for you two? Candles? I got some old 45s out back. What if I hook up a record player so you two can have some music to dine by. Love me Tender kind of stuff. You like love songs, Dix?”
Subtle, Mrs. Presley. Real subtle.
I told her—emphatically—that sandwiches would be fine, and that I’d be back in a little while to pick it up. But truly, food was the farthest thing from my mind right then, as Dylan and I headed down the hidden hallway to Room 111. We had work to do.
We got down to business immediately, pouring again and again over Jennifer’s journal. That was strange in itself, looking so intimately at the life of this poor dead woman. She’d clearly been taken by the attention of Billy Star. And again, that made me cringe as I reflected on Billy’s initial motivation for wooing Jennifer, i.e., to revenge himself on Ned. And, oh, how she’d soaked up that attention! At least at first. But, if I was reading the cues correctly—and I’m a woman so, hell, of course I was—love was waning as of late.
May 12
J - return (mail) necklace to BS
LL - needs to confirm things for reception—call the bitch and make sure she does.
May 16
J - call EB at spa, re-confirm all my Monday’s
May 20
J - must find that lost BS letter!
May 22
J - tell BS to go FCK himself once and for all!
Now, that last one was a shorthand code you didn’t have to be a detective to decipher. And I doubted very much if the BS here was the Bombay Spa. No, Jennifer was done with Billy Star. There were a couple more references to Luanne (LL), snarkily written. Complete with little frowning faces all over the page—and a fair number of devil’s pitchforks. The (PR) Pastor Ravenspire mentions were equally negative, but the accompanying graphics were a little more intense. And there were many N (for Ned) entries, of course. EB—Elizabeth Bee popped up every so often, always with a note to be sure to tip her for one thing or another. For one who apparently had been saving her money, Jennifer had no qualms about tipping Elizabeth very well. Genuine generosity? Buying her silence? There were a few references to neighbors, appointments to be kept, but nothing out of the ordinary.
And it wasn’t just the re-reading of the journal that kept us occupied that rainy day and evening. Dylan and I also listened to every taped conversation, again and again. We looked over every photo. We went over every note, the crumpled restraining order, every receipt. I swear, Dylan and I could have recited verbatim the contents of any of those documents or recordings.
