Tracy Kiely: Murder on the Bride’s Side

“What is this about?” asked Julia, her tone uneasy.

I looked at Avery.

He sighed. “I... I lied to the police about where I was the night Roni... ” His words caught in his throat. He tried again. “I lied about where I was the night Roni... died.” He did not look at Julia as he spoke. “Claire knew and lied to protect me.”

Julia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Avery’s eyes fell to his lap and stayed there.

“What really happened?” I asked.

Avery’s anguished eyes briefly landed on Julia before turning my way. His next words came out haltingly. “I wasn’t in my room all night as I told the police. Around one thirty, I went to the study to make a phone call. My cell phone was dead and there isn’t a phone in my room.”

“And you called... ?” I asked.

Avery did not respond. He fixed his eyes on his lap again. I repeated the question. “Avery, who did you call?”

“He called me,” Julia said suddenly. “He called me,” she repeated quietly.

“Julia... ” Avery began.

“Avery, it’s okay,” she said, but Avery interrupted her.

“No, it’s not. Let me tell them.”

His eyes swept over Bridget and Colin still standing stiffly in the doorway, before focusing on me. In a tentative voice, he said, “As you probably know, Julia and I were... were very close before... before I married Roni.” He shrugged quickly as if to ward off hurtful memories. “When I first met Roni, I thought... well, I guess I thought she was wonderful.”

Julia’s face bunched in pain. Seeing it, a different kind of agony crept into Avery’s expression. With a cheerless shake of his head, he continued. “After we were married, I still thought she was wonderful, even when faced with evidence to the contrary. The mind can play funny tricks on you, I guess.” He stared blankly at the leaping flames in the fireplace. Dragging his eyes back to mine, he went on. “Anyway, I managed to blind myself to all the ugliness, but when I saw Julia again at the reception, it was as if someone suddenly ripped the blinders away. In that one moment, I saw everything clearly: Roni’s shallowness, her greediness, and her propensity for cruelty—especially with Megan. I realized what a horrible mistake I’d made and how much I’d lost when I... when I ended my friendship with Julia.”

I remembered the change in Avery’s demeanor after he talked to Julia at the wedding. He had seemed to suddenly withdraw into himself. His mood certainly caught Roni’s attention, but like her, I had believed his explanation that he was merely tired. Now I saw his odd silence and desire to be alone for what it was—a man understanding what a giant mistake he had made with his life.

Julia reached over and grabbed Avery’s hand. The gesture was Avery’s undoing and tears welled in his eyes. Seeing that Avery was incapable of speech, Julia picked up the narrative. “What Avery is trying to say,” she said with a melancholy smile, “is that he called me that night. I wasn’t home yet, so he left a message. He was very upset. He told me... well, you don’t need the exact transcript, but the gist of it was what he’s just told you.” Still holding tightly to Avery’s hand, Julia turned her eyes on me. “When I got in from the wedding, I went straight to bed. I didn’t get his message until the next morning. But when I did hear it, it scared me. Avery sounded like a man at the edge of a deep, dark hole. I was afraid that he was in danger of doing something rash.”

My expression must have registered alarm, because Julia quickly clarified her words. “Not to anyone else, of course! I merely meant I was afraid he was in danger of hurting himself,” she said firmly. “That’s why I dashed over here as soon as I heard his message. And then... when I saw the police cars... I was terrified that my suspicions had been right and I was too late.”

My mind jumped back to that chaotic morning and Julia’s clearly distressed state when she arrived at Barton Landing. She’d been desperate to see Avery, but there was something else. She’d also taken a special interest in Megan.

“You were very kind to Megan,” I said.

Apparently, Bridget was right when she told me that my diplomatic skills are worthless. Julia arched her eyebrow and studied me. Choosing her words with care, she said, “I was very concerned about Megan, but not in the way you seem to think. As a counselor, I’ve seen the terrible damage an overbearingly critical parent can do to a child, especially a sensitive child like Megan.” With a swift glance at Avery, she continued. “Megan was in danger of losing herself under Roni’s abuse. Even the little I saw of them together at the wedding told me that. I could see that unless something happened to change Roni’s behavior, Megan’s wounds would only deepen. I... I wanted to help her.” Softening her tone, she added, “Anyone would have wanted to, really.”

“Megan is very special,” I said, tipping my head in agreement. “But I still don’t understand. Why the need to lie about the phone call?”

Disquiet radiated from both of them; they did not look at each other. Taking a deep breath, Julia finally answered. “I think Avery had some old-fashioned notion about protecting me.” She seemed faintly amused by the idea. “He didn’t want me involved. It was very sweet of him,” she said, flashing a brief smile in his direction, “but completely unnecessary. I can take care of myself.”

Avery returned her smile, but I could see that he was unconvinced by her declaration and troubled about the revelation.

That’s when it hit me: each one had initially suspected the other of Roni’s murder. Avery wondered why Julia hadn’t been home when he called, and Julia wondered if Avery’s despair had transcended into a murderous rage.

Watching them now, as they sat with their hands entwined but not making eye contact, I realized that on a certain level, each still harbored that uneasy suspicion.

Megan entered the room carrying a wooden tray laden with lime green teacups and matching saucers. Colin rushed over to her, taking the tray and placing it on the coffee table. “Thanks,” Megan said with her shy smile. “That was heavier than I expected. I’ll be just a second; I’m going to help Millie with the rest.”

Realizing there was no polite way to question Avery about his ability to walk, I decided my only hope was to tackle Millie on the subject. Given her obvious devotion to Avery, I hoped that she wouldn’t tackle me—in actuality—for what would no doubt be considered highly inappropriate questions. “Oh, let me get the rest,” I said, and rapidly set off for the kitchen before Megan could argue.

Elsie’s kitchen was exactly how I would design one—if I had a couple of hundred thousand dollars to spend. She had renovated it a few years ago, modernizing the appliances without destroying its old-fashioned charm. Exposed wooden beams still lined the ceiling, and the original wide wooden planks ran the length of the floor. The walls gleamed white except for blue Spode tiles that served as the backsplash. In front of the room’s small stone fireplace was a long wooden kitchen table. Millie stood at it, her broad back to me, pouring steaming hot water into a large teapot. Hearing me, she said, “Oh, Megan, can you pour the cream into the pitcher? And I think there are some cookies in the cupboard.”

“Actually, it’s just me, but I’m happy to help.”

At the sound of my voice, Millie whirled around, clearly startled. I couldn’t fathom why. “Oh,” she said, her voice now brisk and professional. “Yes, thank you. I just need some cream.”