Page 25 of Murder on Charity Lane

“I mean, I don’t know at the time but everyone turned, including Frank. Except he turned too fast and I saw him stumble so I reached out to catch him. I tried to catch him. I swear. That’s what Karina saw. She saw my arm out, grabbing for him.”

Vernon talked her through the events once more, then asked, “Why is Karina so sure you pushed him?”

“She was drinking. She’s in shock.”

“Is that all?”

CJ took a breath. “I don’t know. Yeah, I think so.”

“Do you get along?”

“Sure. Sort of. She—Karina doesn’t like me.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s jealous.”

“Of you and her husband?”

CJ took a breath. “I’m closer to Frank than she is. I was. In some ways. In a lot of ways.”

“Did you have a sexual relationship?”

She shot him a look of perfect disgust. “He’s fifty years older than me.”

“And worth a hundred million dollars more.”

“Eighty-six million,” she said. “No, we didn’t have a sexual relationship. He was my friend and my boss and…”

She started crying, so Vernon stood to leave. Fortunately, she didn’t catch him struggling to lever himself out of the couch. He turned things over in his head as he left the room. He had an accusation but no proof. Aside from the widow, no one saw CJ push the victim. Then there was the question of the sudden crash that had immediately preceded the fall.

Vernon beckoned Officer Aldwell to him and said, “Wine bottles don’t shatter so easy.”

“That’s true,” she said.

“So how did this one break falling off a counter?”

“It didn’t. It’s not a wine bottle. It was Amaretto. And I already googled. The square bottles are known for breaking.”

“Damn, Aldwell. I’ll be working for you soon.”

She turned away, but not quite fast enough to hide her smile. He jotted down the additional information in his notepad, then moved back to the foyer to watch the crime scene unit working. He thought about Nicholas Perez and Sophie Gilman. Most people never came across one murder in their lives, but look at them: the third corpse in six months. Was that just a coincidence? Or were they here for some unspoken reason?

He left the blood spatter to forensics and went to find out.

15

SOPHIE

When Detective Enible stepped into view, my stomach clenched. I never thought I’d see him again. He was the cop who’d arrested Anthony and Mrs. B—and eventually Lily-Ann’s ex-husband, Piotr. The cop who still suspected that I, along with everyone else at Marigold Cottages, was complicit in a murder, or guilty of a cover-up.

Which wouldn’t be so bad, if it weren’t so true.

I’d felt sorry for James Dedrick when I’d found his body outside my cottage. I hadn’t known that he’d planned to assault me. I hadn’t known that’s why he’d died. And Gregory Ybarra, well, he attacked Mrs. B—not physically, but still. And that’s why he’d died.

Yet in the end we’d shifted the blame to Piotr, because justice mattered more than law.

I doubted that Detective Enible agreed, though, and I dreaded the possibility of him poking around in our lives. I guess that’s why I recognized him instantly, viscerally. A middle-aged man with a friendly, jowly face. I hated that he looked like a SoCal Columbo, rumpled and approachable. I knew better than to trust cops—because I read the news—but I tended to crumble under authority. I was terrified that if Enible talked to me, I’d blurt dangerous secrets.