Twenty-three

I felt like Dave had just hit me with a bat. Shudders ran though me and goose bumps prickled my arms. For a long moment I was too stunned to speak. That person was simply wrong. I knew I hadn’t been there in the middle of the night. He or she must be mistaken. “Who? Who saw me there?”

“I really can’t say.”

If I had been a dog, my hackles would have risen, because I was furious. “Then you had better take a really close look at the person who made that claim, because it’s a lie. In fact, I would bet that he or she is trying to throw suspicion on me to deflect attention from him- or herself.”

“Listen, Holly. I have to ask you to stick around Wagtail. Don’t leave town, okay?”

If I were a dog, I would have bitten him. Okay, maybe I would have only tugged on his pant leg, but still, as a human I couldn’t lash out the way I’d have liked. I was more than a little snarky when I responded with, “Listen, Dave. You have told me that request is unenforceable, so I believe I’ll go wherever I like.”

He recoiled like I had bitten him.

I hated to admit that I got a little satisfaction out of his reaction.

“Do you think I murdered Randall, too?”

“I don’t.”

He put such emphasis on the word I that it prompted me to ask what he was implying. “Are you saying someone else thinks I murdered Randall?”

He didn’t answer, which meant the affirmative to me.

Fortunately, someone knocked on the door. I jumped to my feet, ready to end this aggravation. Dave was a friend, and to be honest, I found it offensive for him to turn on me and suspect me of murder. It was his job, and I appreciated that he was thorough and conscientious, but he knew me well enough to flip the tables on whoever it was that had tried to point the finger of blame at me.

When I opened the door, Ben waited outside. “You’re late,” I grumbled.

Ben walked in and addressed Dave. “You know you can’t interview my client without me present.”

Dave flashed me an annoyed look. “I did not interview Zelda.”

“He thinks I murdered Hank,” I clarified.

“Oh no.” Ben sank onto the sofa. “I can’t represent both of you.”

“That’s fine with me.” I looked straight at Dave. “Because I haven’t murdered anyone.” I scooped up Trixie, stalked out, and closed the door behind me.

I set Trixie on the floor and took some deep breaths. Who would have been roaming around Zelda’s backyard? Clearly, the murderer was there. If he’d noticed me in the raincoat and wig earlier, he might have taken advantage of that and lied about seeing me in the middle of the night. That made the most sense to me. Maybe Ben could get Dave to tell him the name of the person who put me at the scene of the crime.

There were other possibilities, too—Zelda’s date for starters. He knew about our little prank on Hank. And he might even have murdered Hank for Zelda. I loved her, but I wouldn’t have killed Hank for Zelda or anyone else. Still, she had been attracted to slimy Hank in the first place. Maybe the new guy wasn’t exactly a Boy Scout either.

I had told Macon, Nessie, and Sky about misleading Hank. If each of them passed that information along to other people, then it could be just about anyone.

But as I thought about it, I realized that Macon and Sky had something in common—each of them had known Randall, the first victim. And Nessie might have, too.

I heard footsteps tapping along the hallway and took a deep breath when Sky showed up with Duchess. I opened the drawer and removed her bill.

Sky spoke softly. “Holly, I hope I didn’t put you to a lot of trouble. My plans are changing again. My sister is on her way here. I know you were booked a couple of days ago. Nothing has opened up, has it?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Sky nodded. “Nessie didn’t sleep in her own bed most of last night. If I knew she was going to continue sleeping elsewhere, I would move my sister in with me.” Sky wrinkled her nose at me. “But that’s not really the sort of thing one asks of someone. Well, if anyone checks out, would you let me know? If not, could you fit another bed in our room?”

“Of course. You’re not worried that Nessie might be the killer?”

“I think I was overreacting. Everyone is on edge. I tried asking her if she knew Randall, but she changed the subject so fast that I felt the wind blow through the room. I’ll let you know if I can coax information out of her.”

She and Duchess left quickly.

Now that it appeared Nessie had known both of the murder victims, I wasn’t sure I would want to be sharing a room with her. Then again, Sky had spent a lot more time with Nessie. Maybe Sky trusted Nessie? But where had Nessie been last night?

Trixie growled at me. Not a vicious growl, more of an attention getter. When I looked down at her, she barked and ran toward the hallway like she was following Sky.

I stuck Sky’s bill away and hurried after Trixie. I found her in the dining area, begging Shelley for lunch.

“One of the other dogs must have told her we have roast chicken for dogs today. It’s very popular.”

“Okay. Let’s have one of those. What are the specials for people?”

“Cheeseburgers and chicken Caesar salad, but I recommend the shrimp pasta with asparagus.”

“I think I’ll go with the shrimp today, Shelley, and hot tea, please? I need to calm my nerves. Don’t worry about serving us. I’ll pick up the dishes when they’re ready.”

I walked over to the corner table and settled in, still obsessed by the horrendous notion that Dave considered me a murder suspect.

The service window opened, and my hot tea slid out. I collected it and was sitting down again just about the time Macon spotted me.

He waddled over and joined me, his face flushed. “I’m madder than a wet hen. What’s wrong with people?”

“What happened?” I asked.

“It’s that Nessie Jamieson. To start with, she stole my computer and changed my selection for her daughter. Now that Nessie’s selection of that con artist, Hank, has bombed, she’s running around bad-mouthing me. Honestly! It’s like that awful Randall all over again. Don’t people understand that they’re harming my livelihood? This isn’t a hobby. It’s my job! What ever happened to common civility and politeness? There are things I don’t much care for, but I don’t make it my business to disparage the people behind them. Do they think I’m some kind of machine without feelings? If she keeps it up, she’ll ruin my reputation!”

“I guess some people don’t take matchmaking seriously. I’m sorry about Nessie’s behavior.”

“It’s odd that people view it as a game or some kind of carnival ride when it’s the single biggest choice that they make in their lives,” he said. “Can you imagine marrying Randall or Hank? It’s the equivalent of signing up for years of torture. Yet women did it so readily. Sky told me Randall was as much a jerk toward his wife as he was to everyone else.” Macon leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “Just between us, I believe I heard a huge sigh of relief echo through the world when Randall died. Sky and her family are probably comforted to know that the years of Randall’s tyranny have come to an end.”

The serving window slid open again. Trixie yelped and jumped like a pogo stick was wired into her legs.

“Excuse me. I think that’s our lunch. Could I order something for you?”

“Lunch? I ate hours ago. Gracious! Look at the time. I’m off to rematch.”

“Rematch?”

“Dahlin’, when it comes to love, even I am not one hundred percent perfect. They think they’re comin’ to fill out new forms, which they are, and hopefully they’ll have learned not to lie about themselves this time, but they’re supposed to bring their dogs and cats, and I expect those cute little furry friends will do most of the matchmaking for me.”

Macon chuckled and rose to leave. He turned, though, and looked back at me. “I wasn’t wrong about you and a certain Mr. John Adele, though.”

I fetched our lunches and set Trixie’s on the floor, along with a bowl of fresh water.

Lulu appeared suddenly, racing toward Trixie’s bowl. She had the decency and wisdom not to vie with Trixie for the food, but that didn’t stop her from looking on and barking while Trixie ate.

Nessie arrived a couple of minutes later. She scooped up Lulu and scolded her. “You already ate lunch. Honestly, I think your pantry raid friends have been a bad influence on you.”

Still clutching Lulu, Nessie sat down at my table.

“Could I order some lunch for you?” I asked her.

“No, thank you. I’m so upset that I couldn’t eat a bite.”

“Upset?” I chose my words carefully. “You heard about Hank?”

“I never want to hear that man’s name again. Can you imagine, Macon had the audacity to tell Celeste that I set her up with Hank, and now she’s not speaking to me—her own mother!”

Nessie had interfered with her daughter’s plans. I was willing to bet that happened on a fairly regular basis. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“She’s determined to do the exact opposite of what I advise. She’s out at some kind of rematch thing right now. I swear, if she ends up with that musician, I’ll strangle Macon with my own two hands.”

I had pretended to be interested in the savory shrimp but looked up at her, wondering if she had done that to Randall. Trying to sound very casual, I said, “I hear Randall was a friend of yours.”

Nessie eyed me and set Lulu on the floor. She was silent for a minute, as though she was thinking things through. “Celeste outed me, didn’t she? I didn’t want Sky to know because I had such a low opinion of her brother-in-law. Randall was not my friend. Acquaintance would be more apt. I barely knew the man at all.”

“But Celeste knew him?”

Nessie frowned at me. “We attended the same university and were in the same graduating class. I barely remember him.”

“Celeste was born while you were in school?”

“Good heavens, no.” Nessie sucked in a deep breath. “We took Celeste to a reunion once. I’m amazed that she remembered him.”

I kept feigning interest in my pasta, but had a growing feeling that there was more to Nessie’s relationship with Randall. I tried to bait her. “I only met him once for a few minutes, but he was very opinionated.”

“A zebra’s stripes never change. And I hear they’re pretty mean animals. Even when we were young, that man thought he was superior to everyone else. He loved putting people down and was always telling everyone what to think. And he did it in the worst way, by ridiculing people. Frankly, I never thought he was that bright. He just had an attitude about him that convinced people that he was brilliant when he was really a horse’s patoot.”

It sounded to me like she knew him better than she claimed. “He was your husband’s friend?”

“He certainly wasn’t my friend. Have you heard of Jamieson Mills and Iron Works?”

“I’m afraid not. The family business?”

“My granddaddy started a lumber mill and expanded to include an iron works. My daddy grew the businesses, and by the time I came long, the family was very well-to-do. Seems like a lot of girls have huge weddings these days, but mine was something special, with five hundred guests. My husband wanted Randall to be in the wedding party as an usher. I loathed Randall so much that I banned him from the wedding altogether. I was not having him there, not even as a guest. I wasn’t going to have my one special day spoiled by that man. He had already ruined enough for me.”

I finished my pasta and shoved it aside. “What did he do to you?”

The corners of Nessie’s mouth pulled back. “Randall destroyed my one chance at true love.”