Ophelia waved her hat furiously. “Really, Bernie, the things you say.”
“I’m not going to sit here and listen to this.” Jennifer leapt to her feet, her chest heaving. “For your information, I can show that I didn’t murder my husband. Yes, I argued with him right before he was killed, but when I left him, he was very much alive.”
“And you can prove this?” Julie asked, as Scott leaned in and laid his hand on her arm.
“Easier than you can prove you didn’t kill him, I imagine.” Jennifer straightened her back and stared around the room. “I changed my clothes, except for my headscarf, and went for a walk right after I last saw Lincoln. Just strolled around the block, to clear my head. But apparently someone in a neighboring house saw me.” Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest. “They confirmed it recently, after the police canvassed the neighborhood a second time. The neighbor clearly remembered seeing me. And they could confirm the time because they’d just glanced at their watch. So now the police know for certain that I wasn’t anywhere near Lincoln when he was killed.”
“Just like they know Tara wasn’t there,” I said, earning inquisitive glances from Scott and Julie. “That’s why they allowedher to leave. They had proof of her being on the phone in her bedroom at Chapters. When they put together all the time factors, it appeared she was there during the time of the murder.”
“Yes.” The lines bracketing Jennifer’s mouth softened. “Both of us are in the clear. The police asked us not to say anything, though. They didn’t want to tip off the real killer to the fact that the list of suspects had been shortened.”
“That the net was closing in, you mean,” Scott said.
I studied him for a moment, looking for any signs of concern. Finding none, I decided to throw out my own nagging question. “Sandy and Pete told me about you lurking about the carriage house earlier than you originally claimed. How do you explain that?”
Scott exhaled a gusty sigh. “As I already told you, Charlotte, I was contemplating putting on some costume pieces so I could join the party that night. Stuff I’d stored in that garden bin.”
“That’s where that junk came from,” Damian said. “Man, you should’ve spoken up about that sooner. Would’ve saved me some questioning.”
“Sorry,” Scott said. “I didn’t even think of it at first. After falling over a dead body, I mean.” He rubbed his temples with his fingers. “I decided to store my laptop inside the carriage house before I did anything else, and that’s when I found Lincoln’s body.”
Julie turned to him, her eyes wide. “You didn’t see anyone fleeing the carriage house?”
“No. They must’ve left before I got back.”
Pete glanced around the room. “So, we have Jennifer arguing with Lincoln, then heading out for a walk.”
“And Tara, who heard her dad talking with another woman before she saw Jennifer approach. Which made the girl run off to her room in the house.”
Bernadette rubbed her chin with one hand. “Which means that the woman with Lincoln before his wife approached him must have hidden in the carriage house before Jennifer got there.”
“I didn’t see anyone,” Jennifer said, as she sat back down. “You mean that woman was hiding in there the entire time we were arguing?”
“Sounds likely,” Bernadette said, turning to look straight at Julie.
“Now, wait a minute,” Julie said, holding up her hands in a defensive gesture. Her dark eyes darted about the room, finally landing on Pete. “Help me out here. You mixed me another drink right after that, remember? Even asked me why I was so upset.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Pete said. “You came over to the bar while I was fixing myself something and told me you’d just had a foolish argument and needed a drink to wash away the bad taste in your mouth.”
“Right.” Julie gazed about the room triumphantly. “Which proves I wasn’t the woman hiding in the carriage house. And”—she shot Pete a grateful look—“that Pete wasn’t near the carriage house at that point either.”
“Anyway, I don’t think anyone could mistake my deep voice for a woman’s,” Pete said. “Although that’s a moot point, since I don’t know why anyone would suspect me of killing Delamont. I had no motive.”
“Same on both counts,” Damian said, stepping forward.
I opened my mouth but snapped it shut without saying anything. No sense in dragging Damian’s rejection letter, or anypossible connection to a scandal in Liza Nelson’s past, into the mix now.
Ophelia scrunched her deerstalker hat in her hands. “That leaves—who? Surely you don’t think Bernie or I had anything to do with a murder. I can’t imagine Sandy being involved either. And I think it’s been proven that Charlotte was at the store and didn’t get back until after Scott found Lincoln’s body.” Her eyes widened as her gaze fell on Alicia.
“Now wait one darned minute,” Alicia said, striding forward to stand beside Damian. “Don’t you be going and accusing me of murder, Miss Ophelia Sandberg. Not when I know a few things about you—”
Bernadette jumped to her feet, taking a fighter’s stance. “Don’t attack my sister for a reasonable conclusion.”
“Reasonable?” Alicia barked out a laugh. “Let me get this straight—I was supposed to dash outside with a knife, have a little chat with Delamont, then hide in the carriage house until I killed him? Without anyone seeing me? Are you kidding? The minute I stepped out of the kitchen, I would’ve had you lot swarming me, asking me to clean up this or that. Or to bring you a special snack or drink or something.” She snorted. “Not like I can just swan around like a guest, free to wander without being accosted by people wanting something from me.”
“So you didn’t go outside,” I murmured, recalling Kelly’s assertion that she’d seen Alicia head for the carriage house. Which was apparently a lie.
Why would Kelly lie about that?I frowned. It didn’t make sense.
