Murder Has a Sweet Tooth - By Miranda Bliss Page 0,31
fact, Edward already said Jeremy could play the second half,” Beth announced and, jazzed by the news, Jeremy grabbed four donut holes and headed for the spot where the rest of his team was gathered. Parental pride gleaming from her eyes, Beth watched him. “Edward says Jeremy is going to play in every game for the rest of the season. Isn’t that wonderful news?”
Before anyone could come up with an answer that was truthful or hurtful, I figured it was the perfect time to change the subject. “So . . .” I had questions I wanted to ask, plenty of them. The trick, as always, was figuring out how to get information without looking too obvious. “Any more news about Vickie’s murder?” I asked.
OK, it may have been obvious, but honestly, if I didn’t ask, that would have been obvious, too.
For a couple moments, I thought nobody heard me. Celia kept busy rearranging the donut holes. She consolidated them so there were two flavors per plate. With a practiced eye, Glynis looked around the area to make sure there were no paper cups thrown on the ground. That left Beth, and I knew she heard me because at the mention of Vickie’s name, she got as pale as the white blouse she was wearing with her jumper.
“There’s nothing else to know,” Beth said, her voice suddenly breathy. “The police say they have the killer. Once he’s tried and convicted, we’ll all get the closure we need.”
Not all of us.
I, of course, did not point this out.
Instead, I snapped up a donut hole. Glazed. No, I hadn’t been offered one, but just as Eve couldn’t be close to beautiful clothing and not go into covet mode I couldn’t be within sight of sweets and not go for it. Fortunately, these ladies didn’t hold it against me.
“What I don’t get”—I popped the donut hole in my mouth—“is why Vickie was hanging out with the guy they say killed her in the first place. And at that bar so far from home. Did you know she went there every Tuesday?”
“Every Tuesday?” Glynis’s face took on a color that matched her eyes. “That’s impossible. How do you—”
“Read it in the newspaper. Don’t ask me which one; we get a few different papers at home. But I know one of them mentioned that the guy they arrested . . . Alex somebody, I think the newspaper said . . . and one of them said that he told the cops that he and Vickie met at the restaurant every Tuesday.”
“Look, they’re about to get started again!” Jeremy was back on the field, and I might as well have been invisible. Beth completely ignored me and zoomed right by. She went to stand at the edge of the field, cheering for Jeremy with all her might.
Celia rolled her eyes.
“Something tells me that look has nothing to do with Vickie and everything to do with soccer,” I said.
“You got that right.” When Jeremy never moved a muscle and a kid from the other team kicked the ball away from him, she sighed. “Here we go again.”
“So Vickie never said anything to you? I mean, about going out with this Alex guy every Tuesday night?”
If Celia was surprised that I was so single-minded, she didn’t show it. Carter did something she considered spectacular and she applauded. “The only things Vickie ever talked to us about were friend things. You know, school and parties, our houses and our husbands.”
I dared to push it, just a little. “Friends talk about lovers, too.”
“But he wasn’t a lover,” Glynis said. She sounded like she knew what she was talking about, which to me meant that Vickie had told these women about Alex. Otherwise, how would they know he was not a lover? “Vickie wasn’t the type to step out. In fact, the only place she ever went was the only place all of us ever go. Cooking class.”
Good thing I’d already swallowed my donut hole, or I might have choked. Talk of cooking does that to me. I pasted a smile on my face. “Cooking classes? I’ve taken cooking classes, over at Très Bonne Cuisine in Arlington.”
“We go to Sonny’s in Reston.” Glynis sounded as if this was something to be proud of and for all I know, it may have been. It’s hard to think past the brain freeze that always gets to me when the subject of cooking comes up. She smiled at Celia.