Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Advice. Purrfect Passion. A Purrfect Gnomeful

“You really think I’d kill Kirk?” asked Sandy, incredulous.

“I do, and it’s fine. I can sympathize,” said Scarlett, placing a long-nailed hand on the woman’s arm. “And I’m sure that a jury will be extremely sympathetic to your plight.”

“Look, I don’t know where you got this crazy idea but I didn’t kill my husband, all right? I didn’t like the guy, and I thought he was human scum, but I didn’t kill him.”

“But you thought about it.”

Sandy hesitated. A waiter had come up and placed their orders on the table: more hot cocoa for Vesta, a cappuccino for Scarlett and chamomile tea for Sandy, presumably to calm her nerves, frayed to the utmost from her recent visit to the lawyer’s office.

The moment the waiter had withdrawn, Sandy said, “Yes, I did think about killing Kirk. Many times. In fact each time I caught him with another woman I imagined stabbing him like the filthy pig that he was. But did I act upon those revenge fantasies? No, of course I didn’t. The way I wanted to get even with the bastard was by divorcing him and taking all of his money. Only now it turns out there wasn’t any money to be had. The man was broke! Completely broke. He even left a chest full of debts behind.”

“So where were you yesterday morning around eleven?” asked Vesta.

“Good question,” said Scarlett admiringly. “Where were you? Tell us that, if you can.”

“I was brunching at the hotel across the street. And you can ask any waiter and they’ll confirm my story. And after brunch I went shopping for new clothes. I still figured the settlement would make me a rich woman.” She scoffed. “Huh! What a fool I was!”

Chapter 19

When Sandy had left to return to her hotel, Vesta and Scarlett discussed the interview. “You did great, Vesta,” said Scarlett. “You asked all the right questions and really made her sweat.”

“Thanks,” said Vesta, touched by this unexpected compliment from one who probably hadn’t paid her a compliment since the days when Ronald Reagan was president. “I picked up a few tips and tricks from my granddaughter. Odelia is great at this kind of stuff. And of course it doesn’t hurt that my son is a cop.”

“So what do you think? Was she lying when she told us she never came near her husband?”

“Well, you heard her. She has a solid alibi. The brunch thing and the shopping. Very easy for us to check.”

“But maybe she figures we won’t. Maybe she snuck out at some point, made her way across town, snuck into Allison Gray’s house and killed Kirk and then got back.”

“It’s possible,” Vesta allowed, “but unlikely. The first thing you develop in this business is intuition. You talk to a potential suspect and you get a feel for them.”

“A feel for them,” Scarlett repeated, nodding seriously.

“And my gut tells me she didn’t do it.”

“My gut tells me the same thing. The woman hated her husband, but that doesn’t make her a killer.”

They both sat staring out the window at the hotel across the street for a moment, then heaved a simultaneous sigh.

“This stuff isn’t as easy as I thought it would be,” Scarlett intimated. “I always thought sleuthing was a cinch. You talk to a couple of people, and before you know it, bam! You’ve got your guy. But we’ve talked to several people already and so far I don’t have a clue what happened. You?”

“No, I don’t,” Vesta admitted. “But we still have a couple of suspects left, and so we just need to keep going, Scarlett. Talk to them one by one until we hit the jackpot.”

“Isn’t this kind of work… dangerous?” asked Scarlett now.

“Oh, yeah. Course it is. These people will stop at nothing, and if you get too close they might lash out and strike.”

Scarlett shivered visibly. “I don’t know how you do it, Vesta. Case after case after case. You must have nerves of steel.”

“Well, you get used to it to some extent,” said Vesta, expanding a little under this onslaught of compliments and admiration.

“I want to be you when I grow up,” said Scarlett, eyeing her partner-in-sleuthing with a sparkle in her eye.

“Oh, please.”

“No, really. The way you handled yourself just now, and yesterday with Allison and Mia. You were born to do this.”

“Baby steps, Scarlett,” said Vesta, feeling like a seasoned pro teaching her junior partner the tricks of the trade.

“Do you think I’ll get there eventually?”

“If you keep following my lead, I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you for this opportunity,” said Scarlett humbly.

“You’re welcome, honey.”

And as Scarlett basked in the glow of the warmth of the coffee shop, and Vesta basked in the glow of Scarlett’s praise, neither of them noticed how across the street Odelia and Chase had arrived at the hotel, and now walked in.

Odelia hadn’t slept well. It wasn’t just the investigation, but also the notion that her grandmother was now saddled with her archnemesis and the worry that the two ladies would come to blows at some point. It had happened before, and broken nails and pulled hair and damaged egos had been the upshot.

“I hope he’s in,” she said as she and Chase walked up to the reception desk.

“If he isn’t we’ll wait for him,” said Chase as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “So have you asked Dan to reveal the identity of the mysterious Gabi yet?”

“Yeah, I have, but he doesn’t want to tell me. He keeps claiming it’s someone I don’t know—some unknown from the Midwest, but I think it has to be someone local.”

“Could it be Dan himself? He knows everything there is to know about Hampton Cove.”

“Could be,” Odelia admitted. “Though I doubt it. Dan has enough on his plate without having to write a daily advice column on top of everything else.”

“There must be a way to find out,” said Chase as he directed a cheeky look at her.

She laughed. “You’re not suggesting I dig through Dan’s computer, are you?”

“Just an idea,” he said lightly. “It would solve the mystery once and for all.”

She’d actually considered this. She was probably even nosy enough to go ahead and do just that, but she had too much respect for her editor to go through with the plan. Besides, if Dan felt he needed to keep the identity of his mysterious advice columnist a secret, he probably had his reasons, and she simply had to accept them.

The receptionist came walking up from the small room behind the desk and smiled politely. “Yes?”

“We’re looking for Burt Scofield,” said Chase, holding up his badge.

The receptionist’s eyes went a little wider, and he nodded. “Room 216. Shall I call him and ask to meet you in the lobby?”

“No, I think we’ll surprise him,” said Chase with a grin.

They took the elevator and Odelia glanced up at her boyfriend’s profile. He looked as handsome as ever, and she wondered why he would hold off on the wedding. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. He’d given ample proof that he cared deeply for her over the past couple of months. Maybe he was one of those men with an aversion to the institution of marriage? She knew people like that existed. They’d seen their parents’ marriages fall apart and had stopped believing in the conjugal bond.

“We have to reschedule dinner again,” she said now. “I’m up to my ears in work.”

Chase smiled. “Why is it that every time we make dinner plans something comes up?”

“Like we said last night, maybe we simply need to stop making plans and just decide on the spur of the moment. Maybe then it’ll finally happen.”

“Without making reservations?”

“Sure. There’s plenty of places where you can just walk in.”