Tracy Kiely - Murder on the Bride’s Side

I forced myself to meet her eyes. Her expression was normal. I suspected mine was anything but. Taking a step toward me, she said, “Honey, what’s wrong? Do you need to sit down?”

“No!” I said, backing away. “No. I’m okay. I feel a bit queasy. I probably need some fresh air, that’s all.” Stumbling backward, I fled the kitchen. Bridget watched my retreat with a perplexed expression. Elsie’s expression, I noticed, was less mystified.

I hurried to the foyer, telling myself that lack of sleep was turning me into a melodramatic paranoid. Bridget trailed after me.

“Elizabeth? Really, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said in as normal a voice as I could muster. “I like your idea of going to the Jefferson. In fact, I think we should go now.” I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice.

Bridget misinterpreted my rush to leave. Her face brightened. “Really?” I nodded dumbly. “So do I. I have a good feeling about this,” she said. “I bet we’re going to find the killer’s identity today.”

The hairs on my neck bristled at her words and I had a sudden fervent wish that we wouldn’t.

The rest of the day was a blur. Colin, Bridget, and I arrived at the Jefferson, where we followed Bridget around as she alternately interviewed, badgered, and threatened the hotel’s bewildered staff. They had no more information than what Detective Grant had already learned—that the electronic keys are useless after checkout. The picture of David that Bridget brought with her also failed to strike a chord of recognition with the staff. The only information we gained that was of lasting use is that desk clerks find it highly annoying when their little bell is rung incessantly.

I didn’t speak much on our outing; I was too busy trying to prevent myself from thinking. It’s hard to make conversation when you’re focusing on keeping your mind a peaceful blank. Thankfully, Bridget talked enough for three people, so my silence wasn’t noticed.

It was late by the time we returned to Barton Landing, the three of us having decided to eat dinner in the city. Bridget and Colin tried their best to convince me to join them on the patio for a drink with Blythe and Graham, but I refused. I was exhausted and I didn’t want to talk anymore about finding Roni’s killer.

I said good night to them and dragged myself upstairs, eager to crawl into bed. I pushed open the door to my room and saw that Megan was lying on her bed reading.

Seeing her, my mind finally unthawed and the thoughts and realizations I’d kept buried all day burst forth. The truth had to come out. It was time.

At my entrance, Megan smiled and put her book on the nightstand. “Hey there,” she began, then peered closely at my face. “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

I sat down heavily on my bed. “Megan, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it.”

When I entered the room, Megan tensed and sat up straighter in her bed. “What’s going on?”

I wearily rubbed my hands across my face. “If you saw someone on the terrace that night, Megan, then you need to tell Detective Grant.”

Her face blanched and she pulled her comforter around her. “What are you talking about?” she said, her voice cracking nervously.

“Don’t play games, Megan!” I snapped, my voice raised. “This is murder we’re talking about! The murder of your mother! If you know something, then you have to tell the truth! How would you feel if the wrong person was arrested? Could you really live with that?”

She stared horrified at me a moment before bowing her head in silent acknowledgment. “You’re right,” she said. “I’ll talk to Detective Grant in the morning.”

“I’m sorry, Megan, I really am,” I said softly. For a moment I debated asking her just who it was she saw, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Call me a coward, but I wanted just one more night of happy oblivion. I gathered my pajamas. On my way to the bathroom, I heard a floorboard in the hallway creak. I peeked out, but the hallway was empty.

After changing into my pajamas and brushing my teeth, I returned to the room. Megan was gone.

I lay down on my bed and waited for her to return. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew there was a pair of very large brown eyes staring into mine. The eyes were Anna’s; she was sitting on my bed, her furry black face positioned not three inches away. I smiled sleepily at her and reached out to scratch her behind her ear when one of the basic facts concerning Anna penetrated my tired brain: Anna’s presence always heralded Elsie’s. My hand froze midair and I turned my head. Before me, calmly perched on Megan’s empty bed, was Elsie.

I sat up swiftly and upset Anna, who fell backward and slid off the bed. Giving me as dirty a look as a dog is capable of, she crossed to Elsie and flopped down at her feet.

Pulling the comforter tightly around me, I glanced uneasily around the room. With a sinking feeling, I saw that the door was shut. I wondered how quickly I could get across the room and out the door.

“Elizabeth, goddamn it, calm down,” Elsie said. “You’re flailing about like some poor trapped animal.”

I eyed her suspiciously and tried to regain my shattered composure. “No, I’m not. You... you just startled me, that’s all. What’s up?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded casual rather than terrified.

She sighed heavily. “This is ridiculous. I had a feeling earlier when we were in the kitchen, but still... ” She broke off, shaking her head, her silver upsweep tilting precariously from side to side. In one fluid movement, she rose from Megan’s bed and crossed to mine. Sitting down on my bed, she roughly grabbed one of my hands. I winced at the sudden pressure but fought to keep my composure. Leaning in so close to my face that I could clearly make out the indigo swirls of pigment in her eyes, she said, “I understand that you are tired and under a tremendous amount of stress, but I want you to listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you.” She paused as if to make sure she had my full attention. “I did not kill Roni.”

She continued to hold my hand and stare at me. “Why would you think—” I began, but she cut me off.

“Goddamn it, Elizabeth! You still don’t believe me! I had a feeling you had jumped to some terrible conclusion when I saw you in the kitchen today. But to think that you would actually think I... ” She turned away from me, releasing my hand with a disgusted grunt.

I pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “Elsie—” I began.

She interrupted me again, which was a relief, actually, as I had no idea what I was going to say. “I overheard Roni on her cell phone talking to some man,” she said, her lips curling in revulsion at the memory. “She was obviously having an affair with him and was planning on tricking Avery into selling the Garden.” A look of pure hatred flashed across Elsie’s face; I gave an involuntary shiver. If she was trying to convince me of her innocence, she was doing a lousy job. She continued. “I knew that Avery would never believe me unless I had proof.” Straightening her spine, she looked down at me. “I took her cell phone when she wasn’t looking. I’m not proud of myself, but I had to find out who Roni was dealing with. It was the only way that I would ever be able to convince Avery that Roni was two-timing him.” Grabbing my hands again, she said, “What you saw during the reception was me putting Roni’s cell phone back into her purse, nothing else!”

“Her cell phone?” I repeated stupidly.