Murder Has a Sweet Tooth - By Miranda Bliss Page 0,82
and as soon as she purred a cheery hello, I knew she’d had success, too. “I’ve got it, Annie!” Eve said. “It’s right here, just like you said it would be.”
“Good. Now leave it there.” I didn’t have to mention this to Jim and Norman. They were conscientious enough not to forget that if we tampered with the evidence, it might affect the police case later. But it never hurt to give Eve a gentle reminder. “Get out of there,” I told her. “And don’t forget to lock the front door behind you. I’ll meet you back at Bellywasher’s.”
Feeling far more encouraged than I had since the day Alex first called to tell us he’d been arrested, I opened Edward’s desk, careful not to disturb anything.
But what I was looking for—what Jim, Norman, and Eve had already found—wasn’t there.
Discouraged and bewildered, I plunked down into Edward’s desk chair. The leather was as soft as butter, so I should have felt like I was sitting on a cloud. Instead, when something stabbed my thigh, I squirmed. It reminded me of the poke I’d felt the day before when that woman on the crowded Old Town street jabbed me with her purse.
Curious, I slid my hand down between the body of the chair and the cushion. My fingers traced the outline of an envelope. It was the corner of that envelope that had dug into my leg. I pulled out the envelope, examined it, and my mouth fell open. It was a greeting card addressed to Edward. Beth’s return address sticker, the one with her name printed right on it, was still stuck in the corner.
Two things occurred to me. One was that Beth had said she’d sent her blackmail letter to Edward inside a sympathy card. The other was something Tyler had told me—no one was stupid enough to keep a blackmail note, especially if that someone was planning to kill the blackmailer. But when I turned the envelope over in my hands, all was explained. At least all about why Edward had kept the card in the first place. It had never been opened. I pictured Edward bringing it into the office with the mountain of sympathy cards he must have received when Vickie died. He’d dropped this card, and it had slid down into the cushion and been forgotten.
Which meant Edward didn’t know about Beth’s demands. Not about how she wanted Jeremy to play soccer. Not about how she wanted Michael to get that big, fat promotion.
I tapped the card against my chin, thinking, and I should have been more confused than ever. Not so! Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. Now if I could only find what I’d come to find in the first place, I’d know I was on the right track.
Reenergized, I scanned the room, wondering where Edward might tuck something so incriminating. Michael, Scott, and Chip weren’t as careful, which was why Jim, Norman, and Eve had found their copies of Sonny’s newsletter so easily. Edward, I suspected, had more to lose.
After a couple minutes of thinking and a couple more of searching, I found it, finally, tucked under the desk blotter. Just as I expected, the newsletter was dog-eared and Sonny’s class schedule was circled in red. The words Saturdays only were underscored with heavy slashes.
I tucked the newsletter and the sympathy card back where I’d found them and hurried out of the house. I had one more stop to make and once I did, I’d have everything I needed to prove who killed Vickie and Beth, and why. For now, I had one piece of the puzzle, and it was a big one. I knew that Edward wasn’t the only one who knew his wife was stepping out on him. All of them—Edward, Michael, Scott, and Chip—every one of the husbands knew what his wife was up to on Tuesday nights.
OAKWOOD CEMETERY IN FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA, is right off the Lee Highway. It didn’t take me long to get there, and I timed my arrival just right. I parked my car just as the service finished and the mourners were walking away from Beth’s grave.
Beth was much loved and the crowd was sizable. I saw Glynis and Celia standing to the side and crying, but I ignored them and hoped they didn’t see me. If I was right about what was going on, Beth’s funeral wasn’t the place for them to find it out. I sidestepped my way through the crowd of teary-eyed mourners