“But this isn’t your home, it’s mine. And I don’t allow underage drinking here.” I waved my hand over the empty cracker sleeves and bits of cheese littering the tabletop. “And while I don’t mind my guests having an occasional snack, I prefer they ask first.”
“I was hungry,” Tara said, fixing me with a glare that would’ve frozen the blood of most adults. But I’d taught high school for far too long to be intimidated by such tactics.
“Fine, but either Ms. Simpson or I would’ve fixed you something if you’d asked.” I pointed to the clock. “Earlier in the evening, of course. Not at three in the morning.”
Tara dropped her head into her hands. “Couldn’t sleep. I can’t ever seem to sleep anymore.”
I noticed the shaking of her narrow shoulders. “I’m sorry.” I pulled out the other chair and sat down across from her. “I know this is a terrible time for you. But drinking won’t really help, you know.”
“I know.” Tara straightened and met my sympathetic gaze. “It’s just … today was especially awful. I wanted to blot it all out.”
“What happened? I know you and your mom spoke to a lawyer today. Well, yesterday, actually,” I added, with a smile I hoped would ease the girl’s anxiety.
Tara yanked her fingers through one of the knots in her curly hair. “Yeah, and it made me realize that I did something stupid.Said something, I mean. To the police. It was the truth, but …” She shook her head. “So dumb.”
“Telling the police the truth isn’t stupid,” I said.
Tara grimaced. “It is if it ends up getting my mom in trouble.”
Her eyes were rimmed in red. I frowned and swept aside a scattering of cracker crumbs. “Was this something to do with a piece of trim from your costume?”
Tara shot me a sharp look. “Yeah. How’d you guess that?”
“I saw the officer find it, caught up in an azalea bush near the carriage house,” I said, thinking it best not to mention that I was the one who’d first noticed the fake gem.
“It popped off my gown when I was trying to look inside.” Tara’s direct stare dared me to question her further.
I’d take that challenge. “You were at the carriage house close to the time your dad was killed, then.”
“Right after you drove off to get something. Some more drinks or whatever it was you told the police.”
“Ice,” I said mildly. It seemed that Tara wanted to talk, despite her belligerent attitude, and I had no intention of stopping her.
“Yeah, anyway, a little before that I overheard my dad talking to some woman.” Tara wound one lock of her hair around her finger. “I didn’t see them. They were behind that big hedge. But I recognized Dad’s voice.”
“And the woman?”
“Couldn’t tell who it was. I mean, I knew it wasn’t Mom, but all I could figure out was that it was some female. They were whispering, you see.”
“But you heard what was said?”
Tara squinched her face, as if the memory pained her. “Unfortunately. Dad asked the woman to follow him into the carriage house. The woman agreed, although she didn’t seem too thrilled about it. Then I had to scramble out of there, because they were moving out from behind the hedge and I was afraid they’d see me. Once I heard a door open and close, I figured they’d gone inside.”
“You tried to look in the carriage house windows to see who it was?”
Tara nodded. “I just wanted to know for sure. I thought it was probably your friend, that Julie person. Figured that, anyhow, ’cause Dad was flirting with her at dinner.” Tara cast me a disdainful look. “Yeah, I noticed. So did my mom.”
“Sorry,” I said, not sure what else to say.
It didn’t matter anyway, as Tara was now on a roll, the words bubbling out like water from a spring. “I crawled behind that bush to try to look in the window but couldn’t see anything ’cause the curtains were drawn. There was just a little slit I could peer through, but even though I did try, it was too dark inside, so”—Tara lifted and dropped her shoulders in an exaggerated shrug—“no go.”
“You didn’t stick around to see who else might’ve entered or exited the building?”
Tara wiped her mouth with one hand before answering. “No. Somebody else showed up and I heard the carriage house door opening, so I ran out the back opening of the hedge, into the garden. I was able to see who came out of the carriage house, though. It was my dad. I guess the woman stayed inside to hide because of who showed up to confront dad.”
I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. “Your mom?”
Tara lips trembled as she nodded. “Yeah. She looked so pissed, I was afraid to stick around.”
