Tracy Kiely - Murder on the Bride’s Side

“Goddamn you, Claire, you stupid idiot, get me out of here. Tell these morons to let me go,” he screamed at her.

“Shut up, David,” Bridget said, her voice furious. “You can’t bully her anymore. We’ve got you. You’re done.” Elsie returned to the room and tossed a roll of duct tape to Colin.

“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic shrug, “it’s all I could find.”

“It’ll do,” Colin replied, and immediately knelt behind David and secured him roughly to his chair.

David struggled against the tightening bonds, all the while staring at us with wild eyes. “What are you talking about?” he sputtered.

Bridget looked at him with disgust. “What are we talking about?” she repeated sarcastically. “How about murder? You killed Roni. And now you tried to kill Megan! Why?”

David’s eyes widened in panic. “You think I killed Roni? I didn’t kill Roni!” Seeing our disbelieving expressions, he continued. “Okay, I... I took her necklace, yes, I admit it, but that’s all!” He shut his eyes, trying to pull a coherent narrative out of his alcohol-soaked brain. “She was already dead, don’t you see? She was dead and she owed me money. She promised me that money!” He looked wildly about for a sign that we either understood or believed him. He found none. “I went downstairs to make myself a drink. That’s when I found her dead and... I... took the necklace. I figured she owed me. But then Megan said she saw someone on the terrace. She said that I could make it right. I figured she meant the necklace! She wanted the necklace!”

I struggled to understand David’s rambling story. Looking over at Megan, I saw that she had revived enough to respond. With Julia pressing a large towel to her bleeding head, Megan whispered, “You’re crazy! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“But you have to,” David pleaded. “You said that if I could figure out how to help you, you’d listen to me.”

“You’re crazy!”

I pressed my fingers against my eyes. Some of what David was saying did have a familiar ring to it. I tried to remember why. Then it came to me. After trying to pin Roni’s murder on Harry, David had told Megan that he was sorry for her mother’s death and asked her if there was anything he could do. Megan’s response echoed in my head. “Anything you can do? Just what do you think you can do, David? From what I’ve seen , you’ve done quite enough!”

I struggled to remember the rest of the conversation. David had pressed her, obviously trying to win her over. What had he said? “I know you’re upset. But I’d like to help.”

And then Megan had responded. “Help. Here’s an idea, David—how about you do the right thing? For once, why don’t you just do the right thing?”

On a certain level, it made sense, especially to someone as drunk as David. He had taken the necklace and then panicked when he thought that Megan had seen him on the terrace. His exchange with Megan had left him with the impression that she would keep her mouth shut about what she’d seen if he only gave her the necklace.

“ You put the necklace in my bureau,” I said suddenly.

David glanced at me and nodded. “I thought it was Megan’s bureau. It was what she wanted me to do!”

“I didn’t want you to do anything! I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” Megan protested faintly, then fell back against the cushion as the effort caused a fresh spasm of pain. Julia gently stroked her cheek and tried to calm her.

“But you do!” countered David with a pathetic whine. “You have to!”

More of the puzzle fell into place. “You were in the hallway earlier, weren’t you, David?” I asked. “You heard me tell Megan that she had to go to the police. You were afraid that she was going to tell Detective Grant that it was you she saw that night on the terrace.”

David’s glance slid away from mine. “I didn’t kill Roni,” he said, his lips pulled into a petulant pout.

I heard the front door slam open and the sound of rapid footsteps. Detective Grant burst into the room and took in the scene before him, from Megan on the couch to David taped to a chair. Two paramedics rushed in behind him and immediately made their way to Megan. Within minutes, they had removed her from the room and were on their way to the hospital. Julia and Avery followed, anguish etched on both faces.

Detective Grant eyed David with abhorrence. “Enjoy attacking young girls, do you, Mr. Cook?”

“It’s not my fault,” David retorted. Turning a loathing eye on me, he said, “If you hadn’t found the necklace, none of this would have happened. She would have kept quiet if she’d had the necklace!”

Looking into his bleary, unfocused eyes, I realized that he was so drunk that basic logic was beyond his grasp. With a sob, Claire buried her head in her hands. “I can’t believe you did this, David. You tried to kill Megan! What kind of a monster are you?”

“Oh, shut up,” came his illogical reply. “She’s fine, isn’t she?”

A fresh burst of tears came from Claire and she looked away.

Detective Grant stepped forward. “David Cook, I’m arresting you for the murder of Roni Matthews and the attack on Megan Matthews.”

David thrashed wildly upon hearing these words. “I didn’t kill her!” he screamed. “I didn’t!” With a sudden burst of strength, he broke free of the tape. Grabbing the chair, he flung it at us. It caught Detective Grant square in the chest and he fell back with a crash. In a flash, David sprang out of the room, onto the terrace, and disappeared from sight.

Pulling himself to his feet, Detective Grant darted after him. The rest of us followed. As we reached the terrace, we saw Detective Grant round the corner of the house and head for the front lawn. I sprinted after them and had just reached the front steps when I saw David’s car charge down the driveway. Detective Grant ran for his car, yanking open the driver’s-side door. His ignition had roared to life when another, louder sound took its place—the sound of crunching metal. Running down the driveway, I saw the source. Wrapped around the base of one of the ancient magnolia trees that lined the stately drive was the shattered remains of David’s car.

Detective Grant got there first. He reached into the driver’s side of the wreck, and after a minute, pulled back. Seeing our expectant faces, he slowly shook his head.

Beside me, Claire moaned and covered her face. Detective Grant walked back to us.

“Is he dead?” Elsie asked in a strained whisper.

“I’m afraid so,” Detective Grant said.

Her face a mask of sadness, Elsie wrapped her arms around Claire. “I’m so sorry, Claire,” she murmured. Claire nodded mutely.

I looked at Detective Grant. I had to ask him the question, but at the same time I dreaded it. “What about Roni’s murder?” I said.

Detective Grant studied me thoughtfully. “Well... ”

Claire raised her tear-stained face from Elsie’s shoulder. “It was David, of course,” she said, after an uncertain glance in my direction. Turning to Detective Grant, she said, “They were having an affair, you know. David and Roni. But then Roni tried to double-cross him.” Her voice grew stronger as she continued her story. “She wanted Avery to sell the business so she could run off with yet another man. When David found out, he was furious. David has”—she squeezed her eyes shut—“ had a terrible temper.”

“Claire—” I began, but she interrupted me.

“No, Elizabeth,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “David killed Roni. He tried to kill Megan, too. We all saw that. He’s a killer!”

Detective Grant’s cell phone rang and we all fell silent. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Well, sir, we may have made some progress, actually.” He glanced at Claire and she nodded. “I think we have our murderer,” he said.