Three Bedrooms, One Corpse - By Charlaine Harris Page 0,68

Bacall especially pronounced. John was resting his arm on the back of her chair. John looked ready to go home. Across the table from Martin, Miss Glitter appeared riveted. Franklin was listening with slightly drawn mouth, his long, thin hands arranging and rearranging his cloth napkin.

He pleated it, unpleated it. I returned my eyes to Mackie’s neck, prepared to plunge back into my fears and my dreadful burden of love. Then my attention shot back to Franklin. He pleated, unpleated. Then he folded the napkin into neat triangles, triangles that got smaller and smaller but never less neat. His long white fingers smoothed the napkin out. Then he pleated it. Then again, the triangles. Meticulously neat triangles. Where had I—?

His eyes began to turn toward me, and I instantly looked forward, my heart thumping.

Through no great feat of ratiocination, I, Aurora Teagarden, had solved a mystery.

Franklin Farrell was the murderer.

He was folding and refolding his napkin in the same curious way Tonia Lee’s clothing had been treated. It was as unmistakable as a fingerprint.

Franklin Farrell.

Chapter Fifteen

I COULDN’T jump up and scream and point to him. I had to force myself back down in my seat. I gripped my hands together, willing them to be still.

Charming, handsome Franklin, who’d had so many conquests they must have become boring and routine by now. Franklin, with a house we all entered only once a year for his annual party, a house that could be full of things stolen from homes he was showing.

Franklin could have had Tonia Lee just by crooking his finger, and his legendary charm could have persuaded lonely and shy Idella to do something she must have known was incredibly suspicious. How had he persuaded her to return the key to the key board, or to give him a ride from Greenhouse Realty to his house? He must have told her that he had arrived at the Anderton house to find Tonia Lee already dead—though what explanation he could have given her for going to the Anderton house at all I couldn’t imagine.

Maybe he’d told Idella that putting back the key would lessen the chances of his being suspected of something he hadn’t done, but Idella couldn’t stand up to the heavy secret she carried, the guilt she felt. I remembered her crying in the bathroom of Beef ‘N More, the day of her death. And Franklin, of course, could tell Idella was cracking. Even if she couldn’t face the fact that Franklin was almost certainly the murderer, she would feel terribly conscious that she had lied to the police. And to her employer.

“Roe? Roe? Are you all right?”

“What?” I jumped.

Martin was leaning toward me, his incredible light brown eyes full of concern. His innocent light brown eyes, I thought with a swelling heart.

“Um, as a matter of fact, Martin, I don’t feel too well.” People were getting up, chatting. Time to go.

“Let’s get you home, then.”

Martin retrieved our coats while I sat at the table, afraid to look up for fear I’d meet Franklin’s eyes. He and his date were still sitting across from me.

“Let’s leave, honey,” she was saying.

“Want to stop at The Pub for a drink?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting as a crackling fire on a freezing night.

“Sure. Then we’ll see after that,” she said teasingly.

There wouldn’t be much to see, I thought. It was already a case of my-place-or-yours. And, my mind raced, I was willing to bet it would be hers. Franklin probably still had the vases from the Anderton place in his house. Somewhere. He’d be afraid to sell them in Atlanta, surely, with the case still so fresh. On the other hand, I argued with myself, keeping the vases in his house would be so dangerous! His car would be an even riskier place, though . ..

I slipped into my coat without even thinking about Martin, who was holding it for me.

How could I get the police to search Franklin’s house?

Martin’s arm was around me. “Are you going to make it to the car?” he asked, concerned.

“Martin, I’m thinking,” I told him. He looked at me oddly.

“Honey, I’m going to get the car. I’m worried about you. I’ll bring it around as quickly as I can.”

I nodded absently, and was only vaguely aware when he left.

“It was so nice to meet you,” a voice at my elbow said with routine courtesy.

I looked up at Miss Glitter. “Enjoyed it,” I said automatically. I tried not to look at Franklin, standing at