If It's Not One Thing, It's a Murder

by Liz Wolfe

  “Great. I look forward to the new books.” Craig grinned and I felt suddenly at a loss. Out of place. Of no use whatsoever. How the hell had that happened?

  “Oh, this is Jack Kester.” Craig gestured at the man next to him.

  “Hi, nice to meet you.” Jack directed the comment toward both of us.

  So this was the new friend. The man who had replaced me. I’d expected to feel a certain animosity. I’d prepared for that and was surprised that mostly I just felt curious. Which was weird. Jack appeared to be quite a bit younger than Craig. Certainly no more than late twenties, possibly early thirties. A good twelve to fifteen years younger than Craig. And me.

  I murmured a greeting, shook his outstretched hand, and breathed a sigh of relief when the lights flashed signaling us to take our seats. As much as I was all right with the divorce and everything, meeting the other man was strange.

  Sheridan was outstanding. She sang with gusto. She danced with grace. Her performance took my mind off the situation. Until the intermission.

  “I’m going to the ladies’ room,” I whispered to Max as I rose from my seat.

  “I’ll go with you,” Jack said.

  I turned and stared at him. He was going to the ladies’ room with me? What were we, girlfriends? I couldn’t think of an appropriate way to refuse, so I stepped past Max and made my way to the aisle. When I glanced back, Craig and Max were chatting and Jack was right behind me. I wasn’t sure whether I was more concerned about talking to Jack or leaving Max and Craig alone together.

  He placed his hand under my elbow and guided me up the aisle until we were stopped behind a clog of people who evidently had the same idea.

  “I’m really happy I had this chance to meet you, Skye.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “You mean a lot to Craig. That’s important to me.”

  “Is it?” I was on the verge of sounding like a bitch and reeled myself in a bit. “Craig means a lot to me, too.”

  “I understand. I mean more than just that you used to be married. I know this can’t be easy for either of you. But, well, I love Craig. I want him to be happy. And I know that this phase is hard for him. It was hard for me when I first came out, too.”

  “Yes. It’s a difficult time for everyone.”

  “Sheridan seems to be dealing with it rather well,” Jack said.

  “Yes, she is. I’m glad about that. Both for her sake and for Craig’s.” I nudged the couple in front of us, hoping to push through the bottleneck and escape to the ladies’ room. Hoping that Jack wouldn’t actually follow me in there. The crowd parted enough for me to squeeze through. Jack stayed right on my heels and pulled me into an alcove before I reached the ladies’ room.

  “Skye, Craig feels badly about what he’s done. I mean, he feels badly that you have been hurt by all this. But he’s coming to terms with who and what he really is now.”

  The situation was starting to piss me off. I wanted to support Craig in this, but I was still having some emotional response to the whole thing. “Craig feels badly? How sad for him. Tell me, Jack, is that supposed to make what he did okay?”

  “Skye, it’s not like he has a choice. He can’t help the fact that he’s gay.”

  “I understand that sexuality isn’t a choice. But behavior is. The fact that he’s gay doesn’t excuse what he did. He betrayed me. He made our marriage a sham.”

  “I’m sorry you see it that way.” Jack was looking a bit uncomfortable. Like maybe he was the one who wanted to escape now.

  “I understand that Craig is going through a difficult time coming to terms with his sexuality. I just don’t think that excuses his past behavior.” I turned to leave, then looked back at Jack. “What makes you think he won’t betray you? He cheated on me after almost twenty years of marriage. I’d imagine it would be even easier to cheat on someone he’s only been with a short time.” Jack paled and I felt a twinge of regret at my harsh words.

  “Right now, he might seem to be selfish, but it’s just a part of what he’s dealing with. He needs to be focused on himself right now. It needs to be all about him. For now.”

  I wanted to hate Jack. But I had to admit that he was probably right. Jack was looking at it from Craig’s point of view. I’d been looking at it from mine. Neither was right or wrong.

  That kind of pissed me off, because I really wanted everyone to see it from my perspective. I wanted to be right. I wanted to be the injured party. I wanted to be the victim, damn it.

  I almost choked on the thought. The victim? Is that what I really wanted to be? What I wanted other people to see when they looked at me? Hell, no! That’s not what I wanted at all. So, why was I being such a bitch?

  I had nothing more to say to Jack. He’d been Craig’s lover for a few weeks; I’d been Craig’s wife for two decades. What right did he have to tell me how to deal with Craig? I made my way to the ladies’ room where I stood in line for fifteen minutes and thought about it. They weren’t pretty thoughts.

  Craig had arranged to take Sheridan out for a late dinner after the show. I had no desire to spend any more time with him and Jack than necessary and declined their invitation to join them. I waited until Sheridan had changed out of her costume, told her how outstanding she’d been, and got a promise from her to call me the next day. Max and I were headed home by ten thirty.

  “Was that hard on you?”

  “What? Meeting Craig’s boyfriend?” I shrugged. “Not as hard as I’d have thought. I guess that’s a good sign.”

  Max laughed and shook his head. “I think you’re amazing. I certainly wouldn’t be as understanding as you are.”

  “You never know until you’re in that position. I care a great deal for Craig. It’s not his fault he likes men more than women.” It was easier to be generous and understanding about Craig when I was sitting next to a handsome and charming man who showed more than a little interest in me. “I think it’s the betrayal that hurts the most. I’ve always thought that if you’re married and you want to be with someone else enough to risk your relationship, then why not just be up front about it? Why not just go to the other person and say, I’m going to do this?”

  “I suppose it’s because some people think they can have it all.”

  My cell phone chirped and I dug it out of my evening bag and looked at the caller ID. Bobbi Jo’s cell phone. That struck me as odd since she would normally use her home phone unless she was out. But she’d said she was turning in early tonight.

  “Hey, Bobbi Jo.”

  “Skye. I’m in jail!”

  “What do you mean you’re in jail?”

  “Well, I’m not actually in jail. I’m downtown at the central precinct. Can you come pick me up?” Bobbi Jo sounded more angry than upset.

  “What are you doing there?”

  “It’s a long story, but Brian was almost killed, and Detective Madison decided that I was the most likely suspect so he brought me down here to talk to me.”

  “Are you all right, Bobbi Jo? Did you call your lawyer?”

  “No. I figured a corporate lawyer wasn’t going to do me much good and besides, I don’t have anything to hide. I didn’t kill Edward or try to kill Brian. So, I just answered their stupid questions.”

  “We’re still at least an hour away.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it then. I’ll call a cab. I should have thought of that first.”

  “What about Brian? Is he still in the guesthouse?”

  “Not tonight. They’re keeping him in the hospital for observation. Look, I’ll explain the whole thing when you get home. I should be there by the time you and Max arrive.”

  She hung up and I stared at my cell phone for a moment.

  “What was that all about?” Max asked.

  “I’m not really sure, but Bobbi Jo was at the central precinct being questioned tonight.”

  “About Edward’s death?”

  I shook my head. “About Brian. Something about his near-death. She said s
he’d tell us all about it when we get there.”

  When we arrived, Bobbi Jo was sitting on the patio with a cup of herbal tea. She seemed calm enough and I was almost reluctant to ask for the details.

  “Oh, hey, y’all.” Bobbi Jo waved when we came out. “Max, there’s some beer in the fridge if you want some.”

  “Sounds good.” He headed back inside for a beer and I sat down across from Bobbi Jo.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked.

  “Gawd only knows, Skye. Detective Madison came over and told me that Brian had been in an accident on his way to the coast. He’s okay but pretty banged up. And when they inspected the car, they found that the brake lines had been cut.”

  “Cut? You mean someone was trying to kill Brian?”

  “That’s how it looks. And evidently Detective Madison thinks I did it.” Bobbi Jo sipped her juice, then set the glass on the table with a shaky hand. “He thinks I killed Edward, too.”

  Max came back with his beer and sat in the chair next to me. “Who thinks you killed Edward?”

  “Detective Madison.” I remembered Scott telling me that he was fairly certain Bobbi Jo hadn’t killed her husband. Had he been lying to me or was he changing his mind now? Either way, it really pissed me off.

  “Oh, I suppose it makes sense to him.” Bobbi Jo waved her hand. “He thinks I killed Edward to get his money, and then tried to kill Brian because he’s contesting Edward’s will.”

  “That seems like a giant leap to a conclusion,” Max said.

  “Well, I guess it does, in a way. But when you add in the fact that I actually know how to cut a brake line because I used to work in my daddy’s garage, it becomes a little more believable.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I said. “And Scott is just wasting his time suspecting you. Time he could be spending finding the real killer.”

  “Don’t be so hard on him, Skye. He’s just doing his job.” She smiled and shook her head. “I never should have called you. I was just so mad at being hauled down to the precinct to be questioned. So, tell me. How was Sheridan’s play? And what was Craig’s boyfriend like?”

  Okay, I’d dish with her for now, but I wasn’t letting Scott off that easily.

  I hung up the phone and burst into tears. It was either that or explode from the building anxiety. When Sheridan fell in love, I was going to hand her a check for as much money as I could get my hands on and tell her to elope. There was a knock at Lily’s back door and I threaded my way through the multitude of white flowers to open it.

  “What’s wrong?” Max stepped inside, worry creasing his brow.

  “The flowers arrived half an hour ago.”

  “That’s a problem?” Max pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed at my cheeks.

  “They’re all white. Every single one of them. Not a blue blossom in the bunch.”

  Max walked past me to look into the dining room where the flowers had been placed. “Did you call the florist? They must have delivered the wrong flowers.”

  “I just got off the phone with them. According to their records, all the flowers are supposed to be white. The only thing they could offer was to redo the bouquets for the bride and the bridesmaids.”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “It’s not enough. Jasmine will be crushed. She wanted every single thing about this wedding to be blue.”

  “Maybe we can fix them.”

  “How? With spray paint?”

  “With a little grade-school science project.” Max grinned at me. “Is there any blue food coloring around?”

  “I have no idea. But how will that help?”

  “We just put the flowers in water with blue food coloring. They’ll soak up the color overnight and by tomorrow we’ll have blue flowers.”

  “You are a genius.” Relief poured through every cell in my body.

  “Let’s take the flowers to my place. That way, when Jasmine gets home from the rehearsal dinner, she won’t see them.”

  “Great idea.”

  “Even better, I’ll take them over while you go buy some blue food coloring.” Max picked up a container of white gladioli. “Get a lot of it.”

  An hour later, we had all the flowers in Max’s living room and his kitchen counter was littered with a dozen empty bottles of blue food coloring.

  I poured the last bottle of food coloring into a vase. “I really hope this works.”

  “It has to.” Max smiled at me. “But now, I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “Well, the clematis that I grew for the arbor isn’t blooming.”

  “Jasmine was really counting on that arbor being in full bloom.”

  “And it will be with a little help from us.” Max pulled a large plastic bag from the closet and opened it.

  I peered into the bag. “Blue flowers.”

  “Blue silk flowers, to be exact.”

  I picked one out of the bag. “So, this is what a clematis bloom looks like.”

  “It is now.” Max waggled his eyebrows at me. “I doubt Jasmine knows the difference. As long as she sees blue flowers, she’ll be happy.”

  “And if the bride is happy, we’re all happy.”

  “I think we need some wine to do this correctly.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I followed him into the kitchen. “How are we going to attach the flowers?”

  Max handed me a glass of wine and poured one for himself. “Floral wire. It’ll be a piece of cake.” He picked up the bag and led me to the patio. “If that doesn’t work, I’ve got a staple gun, a glue gun, and duct tape.”

  Even without the flowers, the arbor was beautiful. The vine of bright green leaves twined up each side of the arbor and across the arched top. I set my wineglass down and picked up a silk flower and a strip of floral wire. The flower attached with a twist of the wire, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least this would be easy.

  Three hours later, I never wanted to see another silk flower again. My arms ached, my fingers throbbed, and I saw blue blossoms every time I blinked. But the damn thing was done. Max attached the last of the blooms to the top and stepped down from the ladder.

  “Now for the crowning touch.” Max pulled a bolt of pale blue tulle from another bag. “Jasmine doesn’t know about this part.” He grinned and started unrolling yards of the tulle. “Hand me that staple gun on the table.”

  Max worked on the underside of the arbor, bunching and stapling the tulle to cover the lathing strips. The tulle had a silver thread in it that sparkled in the patio light. Jasmine would look like a fairy princess under the arbor. Max placed the last staple and stood back.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful. The tulle is perfect, and no one will notice that the flowers aren’t real.”

  “They are real,” Max insisted. “Real imitation silk.”

  “They’re blue. That’s the important part. I wonder how the real flowers are doing?”

  “Let’s go see.”

  I thought I could detect a little blue in most of the flowers. But it made me nervous. “What if they don’t all turn blue by morning?”

  Max sat down on the sofa and pulled me down next to him. “They will.” He squeezed my hand. “Of course, we could sit here all night and make sure it happens.”

  I laughed. “You’re right, they’ll either be blue or not. I’m sure Jasmine will get over it if she has white flowers at her wedding.”

  “And there’s always spray paint.”

  “I should get going. Tomorrow will be a long day, and it’s going to start early.”

  “Not yet.” Max put an arm across the back of the sofa and let his hand rest on my shoulder. “You’ve had wine. I think you should wait a little while before you drive.”

  “Probably. Although I don’t really feel the wine.”

  “Just an hour. Just to be safe.”

  “Okay. Maybe the flowers will turn blue by then.”

  “I can think of better t
hings to do for an hour than watch the flowers.” Max’s voice had dropped into a soft purr. I turned to him and realized his lips were just inches from mine.

  “You can?” My voice was a breathy whisper and I wasn’t sure if I was scared or exhilarated.

  “Sure. Lots of things.”

  His lips were almost touching mine yet somehow I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. Probably because I didn’t want to pull away. I liked the feel of his breath on my lips.

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Mmmm. Let’s see.” He brushed his lips across mine so gently I could barely feel it. “We could just talk for a while.”

  “Talking’s good. Anything else?”

  “Well, there’s this.” His lips finally made contact with mine.

  Dear God, the man could kiss. He nibbled at my bottom lip, then ran the tip of his tongue across it. He pulled back a fraction of an inch and I leaned in, reluctant to let him go. He grinned and dipped his head to kiss just under my ear. I’m pretty sure I whimpered at that point.

  I couldn’t help myself, and I didn’t want to. His hands moved around to caress my back. That felt good. Almost as good as when he slipped me his tongue. Before I could get used to that, he pulled back again and sprinkled little kisses over my face. He was starting to breathe hard and I realized I was, too.

  “Kissing you is exhilarating.”

  Exhilarating? Me? I’d never been told that. I liked the sound of it, though.

  Max moved his lips over mine again, effectively removing all coherent thoughts. I was lost in the sensation. My hand moved up to curl around his neck. He seemed to like that. He deepened the kiss and one of his hands drifted down to my waist, pulling my body up against his hard chest. Damn. Had I ever been kissed like this before? Certainly not by Craig. And I had very little experience with men other than him. I’d started dating Craig when I was a senior in high school and we were married three years later.

  Thinking of Craig was like having a bucket of cold water thrown on me. Suddenly desire turned to hesitation. I pulled back and felt my entire body tense. “I should really be going.”

  “Now?”

  I squirmed away from Max. “I have to get up early.”