“All by yourself?” I asked.
She shrugged. “If a girl waits for invitations, she ends up never going anywhere.” She opened her bag and pulled out a novel. “A good book is all the company I need.”
“I hope you enjoyed the food,” Bunny said.
“Oh, I did. It was wonderful,” she gushed. She dropped the book back in her bag and made a big show of looking at her watch, her eyes wide with surprise. “Oh, it’s getting late. I’d better run. I have some baking to do for tomorrow.” And she was off like a shot.
Time went by. No more than ten or so minutes, but each one felt like hours. I startled every time the door opened, only to see more restaurant customers walk by. At long last, Matthew reappeared with Officer Lombard.
“We contacted the coroner,” she told Bunny. “He should be here momentarily. And don’t worry. I told him to take the back entrance. My partner is waiting for him there.” She looked around. “Is there any place private where I can ask you a few questions?”
“My office is in the back. We can go there.”
“That will be perfect.”
“Della, in the meantime, if anybody asks for me, can you tell them I won’t be long?” They left the reception area. I waited until they had closed the door. I turned to Matthew.
“Did you find out anything?” I whispered.
“You mean, as in who killed him? I’m afraid not. There was a heavy glass vase on the bedside table, just a few feet away from where he was lying. It had a big crack along one side, and it was smudged with bloody fingerprints. I think that was the murder weapon.”
My heart almost stopped. Bloody fingerprints. I prayed they weren’t Marnie’s. I hated myself for asking, but I needed to know.
“Did you see anything there that could tie Marnie to the murder?”
“There was one thing. When the police combed the room, they found an engagement ring near the entrance. It was deep in the pile of the carpet. They wouldn’t have seen it if Lombard hadn’t gotten on her hands and knees and felt around.” My spirits took a nosedive.
“Maybe it wasn’t Marnie’s,” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice.
“And maybe I’ll be elected president of the United States,” he said, giving me an incredulous look.
“What did you tell them?” I asked.
“I couldn’t lie. You know that, don’t you?” I nodded, and he continued. “I told them everything I’d found out about the man—including his being engaged to Marnie and his using an alias. I also mentioned that I stopped by her place this morning to show her the picture of the real Bruce Doherty and that I advised her to break off her engagement.”
That wasn’t so bad, I thought, exhaling.
“But,” Matthew went on, “I’m afraid I let it slip that he’d talked Marnie into purchasing life insurance with a payout of one million bucks. And as soon as I mentioned that it was a joint life policy, they pounced on it as a possible motive for murder.”
“Oh, no. I completely forgot about that. Now that he’s dead, she gets to collect the face amount.”
“Well, that’s not guaranteed. Some companies have a waiting period before benefits can begin. I expect they’ll be picking Marnie up for questioning.” His eyes sought out mine and he held my gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I know how bad it looks for Marnie right now, but even if that ring turns out to be hers, there’ll be a logical explanation. You’ll see.” He didn’t say anything. “You believe she’s innocent, don’t you?” I insisted.
“Della, I understand how much you want her to be innocent. But we aren’t sure of anything right now.”
Before I had a chance to say anything, Bunny stepped out of the office. “Your turn,” she said, waving me in. “Have fun.”
I pulled myself to my feet. Matthew followed suit and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for you.” He gave me a peck on the forehead.
I walked into a tiny room, barely large enough to contain a desk, a file cabinet, and two chairs. Officer Lombard asked me to sit and then spoke. “Could you tell me, in your own words, what you witnessed when you walked into Mr. Doherty’s room?”
“Matthew probably saw more than I did. I followed him in and I barely got a glimpse of the body before I left. He was lying on his back near the bed. He had a gash on his forehead, and there was some blood.” I glanced nervously at the pad in which she was writing. “That’s all. I didn’t notice anything else.”
“Did you see anybody touch anything?”
“You mean Bunny or Matthew? No. Actually, Matthew made a point of making us all leave the room right away so we wouldn’t contaminate the crime scene. And he closed and locked the door behind us.”
“How did you know Mr. Doherty was dead?”
“It was pretty obvious. First of all, we knocked a few times before Bunny unlocked the door. When I saw him, his coloring was so pasty, and the way he lay there, with one arm twisted under him, not to mention all the blood. It was obvious he was dead.”
She took notes. “Is there anything else you think the police should know?”
“I can’t think of a thing.”
And that was that. Officer Lombard thanked me and I left. Though I’d been so nervous about being interviewed, the entire thing had taken no more than a few minutes. No more sting than a mosquito bite.
“How was it?” Matthew asked when I returned to the reception area.
“Short and sweet.”
“Listen,” he said, looking at his watch, “it’s getting late. How about I let Winston stay over at your place tonight?” I welcomed that idea. Spending the night alone after seeing a dead body was not something I’d been looking forward to.
We climbed back into my Jeep and I drove him home, detouring past Marnie’s house. It was dark, all lights out.
“She must be asleep,” I said.
“Or on the run,” he countered. I could have clobbered him, but the same thought had occurred to me. I dropped him off and went home.
I let myself in and found poor Winnie whimpering and walking in tight circles at the door. He hadn’t been outside in hours. I took him out for a quick pee and then settled him on his cushion in the corner of my room. He started snoring instantly—lucky dog. I wish I could fall asleep as easily, I thought. I climbed into bed, sure that I’d be counting sheep all night. But surprisingly, the next thing I knew it was eight o’clock the next morning. I’d slept right through my alarm.
• • •
Winnie watched, fascinated, as I ran around, pulling on clothes and brushing my hair. Ten minutes later I was downstairs at my counter, and he was in his usual spot—on his cushion sleeping, again.
“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” Jenny said, bringing over a mug and a muffin. Margaret followed.
“You have no idea,” I said, and took a deep gulp. “Did you hear about Marnie’s fiancé?” I asked, waving away the blueberry muffin. My stomach was in no shape for food.
“No. What did the creep do now?” she said.
“It’s not what he did, but what was done to him. He was murdered last night.”
Coffee splashed all over my counter as Jenny jerked her cup. “I’m so sorry,” she said, grabbing a napkin and wiping, while I pushed sales book and business cards away from the mess.
“There, all clean and no damage done,” I said.
“Did you say he’s . . . dead?”
“Stone-cold. Somebody hit him over the head with a vase.”
“Murdered—how awful,” Margaret said. “I admit, I didn’t like him much, but I certainly didn’t wish him any harm, except for maybe a good hard slap in the face from Marnie.” She picked up Jenny’s empty cup and stopped. “Does Marnie know?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
“Poor her,” she s
aid, and then looked down at the empty cup. “I’ll get you a fresh one.”
“You haven’t spoken to her?” Jenny asked, tossing the sodden napkins into the wastebasket. “This is going to be really hard on her. You should give her a call.”
“I’m not sure I should, at least not until the police have questioned her.”
Jenny froze. “Why would they want to question Marnie?”
“They’ll probably question everyone who knew him,” I said discreetly.
Margaret reappeared with a full cup. “Here you go.”
“Some people are going to think she’s lucky,” Jenny said, stirring absently. “At least he’s out of her life now. But I think this is the worst thing that could have happened. His death will devastate her. Now she’ll probably elevate him to sainthood. She won’t believe that he was anything less than perfect.”
“Oh, my God,” Margaret said. “This is exactly what you predicted.”
Jenny frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you remember? When you read Marnie’s cards, you told her that a man she knew was surrounded by danger.”
“So I did.” She planted a hand on her hip and gave me the eyebrow. “Gee, imagine that. I made a prediction and it actually came true.”
“Ha, ha,” I said. “Trust me, she doesn’t think of him as a saint. Matthew and I had a long talk with her yesterday. He showed her the picture of the real Bruce Doherty.”
“So she already knows he was using an alias?”
I nodded. “She knows his entire background was fiction, and she suspects that the real reason he wanted her to take out life insurance naming him as beneficiary might have been part of a plan to kill her.”
“You told her all that? Even though she was already angry with you? And she believed you?”
“Matthew showed her the real Bruce Doherty’s picture. She knows we were telling her the truth. She made the other connections herself. The last thing she said before we left was that it was over with him and that she never wanted to set eyes on him again.”
Jenny’s mouth dropped open. “I would never have imagined.”
“I guess you don’t know everything that’s going to happen.” It was my turn to give her a knowing smile.
“Touché,” she said, laughing. In that moment I knew that all the bad feelings between Jenny and me were gone. It had been silly of me to worry. Our friendship was solid.
“I have a favor to ask,” she said. “Would you mind driving to Melinda’s bakery again? We’re all out of everything, and from what you told me, I doubt that Marnie did any baking last night.”
“No problem,” I said, grabbing my keys. “Keep an eye on my shop till I get back.”
I climbed into my car, intending not to go to Belmont but to drive to Marnie’s. She had a freezer full of baked goods. But what was more important was that this gave me the perfect excuse to stop by her house. If the police were there, my arrival wouldn’t seem unusual. And if they weren’t, it would give me a chance to prepare her.
Chapter 13
A disheveled Marnie swung the door open before I had even reached it. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and her nose was red from crying. She grabbed my arm, glanced around outside, and pulled me in, panicked.
“Thank God you’re here!” she exclaimed. “I’m going out of my mind. I just know the police are going to come and arrest me.” The full impact of her words hit me. Not only did she know about Bruce’s murder, but she expected to be arrested.
“Marnie, I think you should tell me where you were last night.”
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you think.” I remained quiet, and she continued. “Okay, I admit I went to see him.” She looked at me with watery eyes.
“I don’t know about you, but I could use a cup of coffee,” I said, my voice shaking. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear the rest of the story.
“I just made a fresh pot,” she said. I followed her to her kitchen and located the coffee.
“I didn’t kill him. I swear I didn’t.”
“I believe you,” I said, handing her a cup. At least I want to.
“I sure hope the cops do too,” she said, walking back to the living room. “I went to his hotel to have it out with him. I wanted to face him alone—sorry,” she added sheepishly. “To give him his ring back and tell him to his face exactly what I thought of him.” She rubbed her temples. “I don’t know what I was hoping to accomplish. I suppose I still had a tiny hope that he was going to somehow make all the bad go away, and that everything would turn out all right.” She rubbed her naked ring finger. “But when I knocked on his door, it swung open. I was getting ready to throw his ring in his face, when I noticed he was lying on the floor. I walked another few steps inside, and that’s when I saw his face covered in blood. He was . . . dead. I got out of there as fast as I could.”
“Oh, Marnie.”
“I know. It was stupid of me.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “You believe me, don’t you? That I didn’t kill him.”
“Of course I do.” Even though I believed her, the fact that she’d run away, and didn’t report his death, did not bode well.
She sighed, as if a great load had been lifted from her shoulders. The doorbell rang, interrupting us. Marnie jumped to her feet.
“It’s the police,” she whispered. “They’re coming for me.”
“You stay put. I’ll see who it is.”
“Or maybe it’s Liz,” she said, her voice full of hope. “She called earlier, begging that I let her take the flag right away. I didn’t have the energy to say no. The flag is all ready to go. It’s in the box on the coffee table.” She darted to the kitchen and I made my way to the door. Sure enough, when I looked through the peephole, it was none other than Liz.
“Why, Della, what a surprise finding you here so early in the morning.” I had the distinct impression she was dying to dive into a serious gossip session. I gave her no such satisfaction.
“I could say the same to you.”
“Oh, Marnie called and said I could come over and pick up the flag.” She stepped in and looked around. “My, this is quite the decor.” I gathered from that comment that she’d never been here before.
“It’s cheerful, isn’t it?” I said.
“It certainly is. Where’s Marnie?” She looked around.
“She can’t come to the door at the moment. But I’ll get you the flag.” I went over to the coffee table and picked up the box. When I turned, she was right behind me. “Excuse me.” I stepped past her and detoured past the small gold-leaf writing desk in the corner. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. I set down the box. “I hope you don’t mind writing her a receipt for the flag.” A look of surprise flashed over her face, but she recovered.
“By all means. I don’t mind at all.”
I scribbled a few words, then read them out loud to her. “I hereby confirm that I am in the borrowed possession of one antique Betsy Ross flag and that I will return it to Marnie Potter by the last day of April of this year.” I handed her the pen. “That gives you just about two weeks. Sign your name and date it, here.”
I watched as she did so. She handed me the paper and took the box in exchange.
“I’ll have it back in less than ten days,” she said. “Thank Marnie for me, will you, dear?” She gave the room one last glance and left.
I returned to the kitchen with the receipt and gave it to Marnie, explaining what I’d done.
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. Liz is a good soul. She’s always helping, donating her time and energy to charitable organizations. But thanks all the same.”
My eyes fell on her hand, and I suddenly remembered something Matthew had said. “Marnie, what did you do with your engagement ring?”
“I—I . . .” She scrunched her forehead, trying to remember, or m
aybe coming up with an excuse. I couldn’t believe that thought had just crossed my mind. “I think I put it back in my jacket pocket.”
“Could you go and check?”
“Sure,” she said, pulling herself out of her chair. She left the kitchen, returning a few minutes later, her face looking nearly as pale as Bruce’s had been on the floor of his hotel room. “I don’t know what happened to it,” she said. “I remember taking it out of my pocket when the door swung open. And I was sure I put it back, but now I can’t find it. You don’t think I—”
I nodded miserably. “The police found it near his body.”
She collapsed into her chair. “Oh, my God. I am so screwed.”
“Uh, Marnie, did you happen to touch anything else in the room while you were there?”
“No,” she started to say, and then stopped. “Oh, I forgot. I did touch something. The glass vase was on the floor. I picked it up and put it on the bedside table.” And then the full impact of her action hit her and her eyes filled with horror. “Now you’re going to tell me that vase was the murder weapon, aren’t you?” I nodded, and at that, what little color had remained in her cheeks drained away.
At the same moment the doorbell rang, and Marnie started to get up.
“Let me get the door. If it happens to be the police, I’ll tell them I’m here to pick up some baked goods for Jenny.”
She stood. “I’ll start putting together some pastries,” she said. I went to the front door.
I looked through the peephole and saw that, just as I’d feared, it was Lombard and Harrison. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Good morning, Officers,” I said.
Surprise filled the police officers’ eyes. “What are you doing here?” asked Harrison, looking suspicious.
“Marnie does all the baking for Coffee, Tea and Destiny,” I said. “I came by to pick up the order.”
“Did you discuss the murder of her fiancé with her?”
Weave of Absence Page 14