Tracy Kiely - Murder on the Bride’s Side

I opened the refrigerator’s chrome door and pulled out the container of cream. Pouring a generous amount into the green-and-white pitcher, I watched Millie from the corner of my eye as she busied herself with the teapot.

“So, how is Avery doing?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Millie’s movements slowed as she considered my question. “I think he’ll be okay,” she said, dunking several tea bags into the pot. “Of course, terrible shocks like these can be a real setback to a recovery.”

“I’m sure they can,” I agreed, placing the pitcher of cream on the counter, “but his recovery was going well before... before all of this, right?”

Millie turned to face me, her eyes unreadable. “He was doing quite well. Why do you ask?”

I shrugged. “No reason, really. I just wondered. He’s always been so active. I imagine living in a wheelchair is very hard for him.” I took a gamble and continued. “Now that he’s able to walk on his own again, it must be a huge relief for him.”

Millie set down the heavy teapot with a loud thump and stared at me in disbelief. “What are you talking about?” she asked, shocked. “Where did you ever get the idea that Avery—I mean Mr. Matthews—can walk?”

“I... I don’t know, really,” I stuttered. “I guess maybe when he almost went after David the other day. It... it seemed like he was trying to stand up.”

Millie let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Trying to stand up?” she repeated, eyeing me in amazement. “Are you serious? That man could no sooner stand than I could... well, than I could land on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.” She shook her head in disbelief at me. “Did you really think he was trying to stand up? And do what? Fight David?”

I felt my face flush under her bemused scrutiny. Millie shook her head again. “Trust me, Mr. Matthews needs that chair. At least for now he does.” She shrugged and added, “But, truth be told, I wouldn’t have blamed him had he tried to go after David. He’s almost as bad as she was.”

I didn’t need to ask Millie whom she meant by “she.” I opened a box of shortbread cookies and spread some out on a small blue plate. My empty stomach growled at the sight of them. I grabbed one and took a large bite. “David is a pain in the ass,” I agreed, once I’d finished chewing. “And I know it isn’t nice to speak ill of the dead, but Roni wasn’t very nice, either.” I shoved the rest of the cookie in my mouth and took another.

“She was pure poison,” Millie agreed with force. “Mr. Matthews is well rid of that woman, but if you ask me , he never really loved her. How could he love someone like her ?” Pausing, she added, almost to herself, “Now that she’s gone, I think he’ll realize that.”

“Well, I just hope that he finds some peace soon,” I said, once I’d finished the second cookie. Still hungry, I dug into the box and grabbed two more. “He’s such a nice man.”

“He’s a lovely man,” she said softly.

Something in her tone distracted me from the shortbread cookies—no small feat there. Pausing with the cookie halfway to my mouth, I considered her. Could her devotion to Avery go beyond that of a dedicated nurse? “I wonder if he’ll remarry,” I mused, with what I hoped was a casual tone.

“Oh, I think he will,” Millie said with brisk assurance. “He’s the type that needs a woman in his life. The right kind of woman, mind you, especially now that it’s just him and Megan. Now that’s a girl who needs a steady woman’s influence in her life.”

“Maybe he’ll marry Julia,” I suggested innocently. “After all, I believe they used to date.”

Millie’s head jerked up and her thin, red lips pulled down. “Julia?” she repeated doubtfully, her eyes inadvertently straying to the doorway to the living room. “No, I don’t think that’s likely.” She shook her head as if to confirm the absurdity of the idea. “No. If he really cared for her then he’d have never left her in the first place. Besides... ”

Whatever Millie was going to say was lost in the arrival of Bridget. She burst into the kitchen and Millie’s professional mask slipped back into place. Placing the teapot, pitcher of cream, and plate of cookies on the tray, Millie quickly excused herself and returned to the living room.

“Did you learn anything?” Bridget whispered.

“Well, Millie was pretty adamant that Avery can’t walk,” I admitted.

Bridget rolled her eyes. “I told you I was right about that! I don’t know how you ever came up with that idea in the first place!”

I still wasn’t convinced, but I held my tongue. “There’s something else. I think Millie might have feelings for Avery, feelings that go beyond that of professional interest.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No. You should have heard the way she was talking about him just now. And when I intentionally mentioned that he and Julia might get back together, she got upset. I wonder if Avery has any idea.”

Bridget stared thoughtfully at the door through which Millie had exited. “I wonder, too” was all she said.

“I guess this means we’re back to square one,” I said, popping the last cookie into my mouth.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bridget said. Anna scurried into the kitchen, followed by Elsie. Catching the smell of the cookies, Anna immediately flung herself at me, plopping down at my feet, her furry expression hopeful. Elsie poured herself a glass of water and surveyed us with a bemused expression.

“What’s the matter with you two?” she asked.

“We’re trying to solve this whole thing with Roni,” Bridget answered.

“But Harry’s home,” Elsie replied with a grateful smile. “You’ve already done your job.”

“Not completely,” said Bridget. “We still need to find her killer so we can be done with Detective Grant and all his crazy suspicions.”

Elsie shook her head. “No. I want you to stop. I wanted Harry cleared of this crime and that’s the reason I asked you to get involved. Now I want the police to focus on someone outside this family. The idea that one of us could have committed such a heinous crime is ludicrous. But someone did, and the murderer is still out there! I don’t want you two risking your necks trying to find him or her. This person is deranged and dangerous! I will not let you expose yourselves to more danger. Harry is home. We can now leave it to the police to solve.”

“But Elsie,” Bridget argued, “you’re forgetting that someone planted Roni’s necklace in Elizabeth’s room! We still have to clear her name! And the only way we are going to do that is by finding the killer.” Bridget drummed her fingers on the granite countertop. “What we need to do is find out who wrote that note to Roni. Whoever put that note in her purse is the killer.”

My mind jumped back to the night of the wedding as I sat across from Roni and watched her pull out her pink purse. Her pink purse. What had I seen... ? And then the memory of Elsie covertly stuffing something into a pink purse flooded over. My eyes flew to Elsie’s. She was looking at me over the rim of her water glass, her expression bland. Beneath my feet, the floor seemed to tip and tilt. The cookies in my stomach threatened to pop back up and my lungs felt as if they’d shrunk three sizes. Bridget chattered on with her plan to find Roni’s killer, oblivious to my churning emotions. “We need to go to the Jefferson. After all, the note was written on their stationery. Maybe the staff might be able to help us,” she said.

“Are you all right, Elizabeth?” Elsie suddenly asked, setting her glass on the counter. “You look pale.”