Murder Has a Sweet Tooth - By Miranda Bliss Page 0,24
knew Vickie, of course. I mean, we just moved here from Chicago so I don’t know anyone in the area at all yet. But I read about her murder in the paper and I saw that she lived nearby and I just had to pay my respects. As a neighbor. And a mom.”
Tears streamed down Beth’s cheeks. I didn’t have to lie when I said, “I’m so sorry. Now I recognize you. All of you.” Celia sniffed and fished a tissue out of her pocket. Glynis’s bottom lip trembled. “You were her friends. I remember seeing you in the front row at the funeral chapel. I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“Oh, there aren’t any bad memories. Not where Vickie is concerned.” Beth laughed through her tears. “She was so wonderful. I’m just glad they found the creep who did that to her.”
“But why?” When all three women looked at me in wonder, I knew I had to explain myself. “Not why are you glad they found him,” I said, pretending to be embarrassed by the gaffe. “Why did he do it? It’s just so awful to think about. I can’t imagine anyone would stab a woman to death. Not unless they were involved or something and it was a sort of lovers’ quarrel.”
“No way.” Glynis slashed one hand through the air. “Did you see something like that in the papers? Because I’ll tell you right now, no way that’s true.”
“Then she didn’t know him?” I asked.
“I can’t even imagine she knew where that bar was.” This came from Beth. She paused and glanced at her friends. “Well, can any of you? Vickie was such a home-body. She would never hang around in a bar by herself.”
“Only she wasn’t by herself,” I reminded them.
“Vickie wasn’t the type who snuck around and did things behind her husband’s back,” Celia added. “She never would have been in that bar alone. And she sure never would have been carrying on with somebody. It’s crazy.”
“But the cops think that guy . . . I think I read his name was Alex . . . they say that this Alex guy did it. Do you have any theories about why he would?”
Celia shook her head. Glynis stared at the ground. Beth started crying all over again.
And I knew I wasn’t going to get another thing out of them. “Look, I really am sorry to have dredged up so much sorrow,” I said, relieved that at least I could be honest about this. “I’m sorry you lost your friend in such a horrible way, and I’m truly sorry because I can see that you’re going to miss her terribly.”
“She was perfect,” Celia said, and it struck me that it wasn’t the first time I’d heard the word. I remembered the eulogies these women had given back at the funeral. Each one of them had used that word, perfect.
Perfect friend.
Perfect wife.
Perfect mother.
Vickie Monroe was perfect.
So what was she doing hanging out in a bar every Tuesday night?
And if she was so perfect, why would anybody want to kill her?
Five
APPARENTLY THE COPS HAD ALREADY BROKEN THE news to Alex. That would explain why when he walked into the visitors’ room at the jail that Wednesday evening, the first thing out of his mouth was, “I didn’t know, Annie. Honest, I didn’t know that Vickie was married.”
If Alex was a liar, he was a mighty good one. When he sat down in the chair across from mine, I studied the pained expression on his face.
“They think it’s why I killed her,” he said on the end of a sigh. “They think that maybe I didn’t know, and that Vickie, she told me that night that she was married and that I wasn’t happy hearing it.” His voice faded; his gaze was suddenly unfocused. It took him a couple seconds to come out of his funk, but when he did, his eyes snapped right to mine. “I never knew until the police told me. I swear to God.”
“And I believe you.” The guard outside the door happened to be watching, or I would have reached across the table to give Alex’s hand a squeeze.
“Jim couldn’t come.” Since I was alone, it was an obvious thing for him to say, but I forgave him. In a place like this—in a situation this insane—it was only natural for Alex to think about his friend and cousin.
“You know how the restaurant business can be. There was some problem