Murder Actually (18 page)

That was one of the many afternoons I hadn't been able to forget, and I hurriedly slid a cup of black coffee towards him.

“I bet you're wondering why I'm here,” he said expectantly.

“Yes, I was.”

“I miss you, Betts.”

There was a time when I would've given anything to hear those words.

Now was not that time.

I started to reply but was saved by a knock at the kitchen door. Edgar Archer stood there, regarding me sheepishly.

“Hello, again, Betts. Sorry for just dropping by, but I just saw Julia downtown and she told me you'd be home. There was something I wanted you to have. Here...” He thrust a handsome, leather-bound book at me. “I found this first edition of
The Hound of the Baskervilles
and immediately thought of you. I wanted to give it to you before it sold.”

“How thoughtful,” I exclaimed. I looked at the brown and gold book and then smiled up at him. “It's gorgeous. I love it. Please, come in.”

He came inside and stood grinning down at me until we were interrupted by Grant loudly clearing his throat.

“Elspeth doesn't like mysteries,” he announced.

Edgar looked puzzled. “Are you sure? I thought you said you…”

“I love mysteries,” I said loudly. “The more mysterious the better.” I smiled up at him gratefully. “Thanks so much, Edgar. That was incredibly thoughtful of you.”

Grant coughed loudly, petulant scowl on his face, and Edgar approached and held out his hand.

“Hello, I don't think we've met. I'm Edgar Archer. I own Archer Antiques.”

Grant reluctantly shook the proffered hand. “I'm Elspeth's husband, Grant Besh.”

Edgar stiffened. “Husband?”

“Ex-husband,” I corrected.

“Well, yes,” Grant admitted. “Force of habit, I guess.” He forced a laugh at his own habit and I hastened to intervene. “Yes, Grant and I have been divorced a while now, almost two years, isn't it Grant?”

He nodded reluctantly and I turned back to Edgar. “Are we still on for tomorrow at Remington?”

“Yes, I'm looking forward to it.”

I walked him outside and we stood awkwardly on the back porch. Suddenly, he grabbed me and kissed me very hard on the mouth. Then he turned and walked away without another word.

I felt a little wobbly as I went back in the kitchen and sat down next to Grant.

“Who's that guy?” he demanded.

“None of your business. Where's Ainsley?”

He waved his hand vaguely. “Oh, she's around.” He peered at the door Edgar had just vacated and then turned back towards me. “You know Betts, I don't trust the look of that guy.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I've never respected your judgment so this is a welcome development.”

“No, I mean it,” he persisted. “There's something about him that seems cagey. He looks like he's hiding something.”

I snorted and stood up from the table. “What do you want, Grant?”

Grant stood up as well and moved a step closer to me. He smelled just like old times, Head & Shoulders and Irish Spring. He put one hand on my shoulder and I panicked.

“What are you doing? What about Ainsley?”
Grant ran a hand through his hair and looked at me with a hang-dog expression. “Oh, Ainsley. She's so young…so ambitious. She expects so much. She doesn't really understand me, Betts. You're the only person who does.” He gave me a sad, resigned smile that, in the words of Truly Jennings, made me want to spit.

“Most men live lives of quiet desperation,” he murmured softly.

“Really? The ones I've met have been quite vocal.”

“See, that's what I mean, Betts. You never let me get away with anything. And I feel so comfortable with you. Ainsley is…exhausting.”

I was suddenly angry. “There was a time in the recent past when my particular comfort was quite inconvenient for you.”

He had the grace to look ashamed as I continued.

“You know the problem with you, Grant? You've never really wanted to work for anything,” I held up my hand to block his protest. “I'm not saying you haven't worked for things, but you've never wanted to. Do you see the difference?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “That's not true. I wanted to work at it, but after the baby you didn't want to talk. Or do anything else. You were so distant…cold..”

I raised a brow. “Was Becky Stockton warm?”

“I told you that was all a mistake! It was just a dumb thing that happened at a really bad time for us, an awful time.” He sighed and dropped his hands. “Betts, you aren't the only one who lost… I was there, too.”

“But you weren't there!”

“You pushed me away! Everytime I wanted to talk about it you shut down.”

“I couldn't talk about it.”

“I know.” He put his hands out in appeal. “I didn't come here to argue with you.”

“Why did you come here, Grant?”

“I told you, I want you back.”

“Why?”

“Because I miss you. I miss coming to All Hallows. I know our marriage wasn't perfect…”

“Really?”

He ignored me and plowed ahead. “…and I know most of that was my fault. I should've been around more, especially at the end. I should've tried harder. Being back here…” he stopped and tried again. “What I'm trying to say is that what you and I had together…it was special…it was real.”

I shook my head. “No, Grant. I've moved on with my life and so have you. You're going to marry Ainsley and I'm going to date Edgar Archer.”

He snorted. “That guy? Gimme a break, Betts, you could do much better.”

“Meaning you?”

He moved towards me again as I pressed up against counter. He stopped a few inches away and I could feel his breath on my ear as he pulled away. He gave his old, cocky grin and walked towards the back door. “Think about it, Betts. We were incredible together.”

I'm ashamed to say I could think of nothing else. It was gratifying to know I could have Grant back if I wanted him, and even more gratifying I'd won whatever contest existed between Ainsley and me. But did I want Grant back in my life? I had loved him so much; suffered so much. Could I go through it all again?

I'll be honest with you, I've never enjoyed self-examination. What little introspection I conduct is brief to the point of incivility. But now, I turned on the coffeemaker and thought about the past.

I thought about babies.

Grant and I had tried to have a baby. We tried and tried and tried again, and then, just when I was about to give up for the last time, I was pregnant. Suddenly my days were filled with baby shopping, internet research and prenatal vitamins. We were so excited; it was like a dream come true. We spent five blissful months painting the nursery and shopping for green and yellow baby clothes.

I had everything I ever wanted.

And then I didn't.

It left as quickly as it had come. After the miscarriage I had a long talk with my doctor. After that I didn't feel like trying for anything anymore.

I stopped looking at the calendar to see when I was ovulating.

I stopped looking at layettes, and bassinets, and soft downy blankets.

Then I stopped looking at Grant.

I was interrupted from my reverie by my phone ringing, and I picked it up reluctantly.

“Hello?”

It was Julia. “Hey, Betts, did Edgar come by? He said he had a gift for you so I told him you wouldn't mind if he stopped by.”

“He did.”

I briefly told her about Grant's visit and Edgar's gift and she was silent on the other end. “That's a lot to think about.”

“Yes, that's what I was doing when you called.”

“Well, I'll leave you to it, but first I had a few things I had to update you on concerning our case…”

I sat back and listened to Julia prattle about the murders. Blue wandered in through the cat door and I absently patted his thick belly. I thought about Jasper and the dagger and the book reading. Everything had started at the book reading.

I remembered Jasper strutting around, irritating everyone. Then I remembered him and Violet announcing the engagement and the shocked faces around us. So many faces…

So many different reactions in those faces…

I suddenly saw them again; more clearly this time. There was something I hadn't expected. I didn't think too much of it at the time, it was so fleeting, but there was something there that shouldn't have been there.

Something…

I realized Julia had finished and was waiting expectantly.

“Good work, girlie,” I said. “But I was really hoping that the police would have a break in the case since they have Crispin's cameras.”

“They have,” Julia's voice sounded unexpectedly grim.

“What is it?”

“Weren't you listening? I just told you! Liddell arrested Nora.”

 

 

 

“They arrested Nora?” I sat back in my chair. Whatever I had expected, this was definitely not it. “Why? When?”

“Just now. Nora called me from the station. She told me they identified the pearl earring from the crime scene.”

“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes. It belongs to Mrs. Nora Ware.”

“That's impossible!”

“Exactly. But she owns the earring and her fingerprints are all over it. Combine that with the scarf used to strangle Violet, and the police have direct evidence connecting her to both crime scenes.”

“Crap, I'll meet you downtown.”

I stood up and Blue eyed me reproachfully.

“Once I'm done with all of this I'm through with mysteries, I promise.” Even to my own ears the promise rang false, and Blue turned his back on me and stalked away.

I met Julia outside the police station and we went in together to confront Liddell, or, as I now thought of him,
Billy the Tongue
. He was sitting at his old oak desk contentedly sniffing at his forefingers. He looked up as we approached and smiled.

“I figured you two might be coming down here. How's the investigation going?”

“You can't be serious about Nora Ware. She's not a killer!”

Liddell sighed. “I know how disappointed you must be your first PI job started with your being hired by a murderer, but that's the downside of the detective business.”

“This isn't disappointment talking, it's common sense! I have a basic understanding of human nature and I know Nora Ware isn't a murderer. Granted, she had a lot to gain by Jasper's death but her main motivation in life is trying to get people to like her.”

“Is that your defense? Nora Ware is too nice to kill?”

“Absolutely. I mean, you've met her! She might even be too nice to try to get out of jail.”

“I doubt it. She's already talked to her lawyer.”

“Were there any other prints on that earring?”

Liddell shook his head in satisfaction. “None. We searched her house and found the other pearl earring in her jewelry box. We also found a whole bunch of wire down in her basement.”

“It's a basement!” I exclaimed. “They all have wire. Were her fingerprints on the wire that killed Crispin?”

“Well, no,” he admitted reluctantly. “But we're still doing some testing.”

“What about an alibi?”

“She has one of those but it's not a very good one. She says she was with her housekeeper, Mrs. Jennings.”

“Sounds plausible.”

Liddell shook his head. “No corroboration. Her housekeeper left at seven.”

“Can we speak with her?”

Liddell was expansive. “Of course.” He nodded towards an officer and instructed him to take me to the cell block. On our way down the hall Julia noticed Sergeant Jack and hurried over to speak to him. I continued to the visiting room. Nora saw me coming and tried to smile. It didn't work very well.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, Elspeth. I'm just confused. Why would I want to kill Crispin? I liked him.”

“The police found one of your pearl earrings in Crispin Wickford's office and it had your fingerprints all over it. Do you have any idea how it got there?”

She shook her head. “I have no clue.”

“Had you been to the
Gazette
office?”

“No, never. I have the paper delivered.”

“When did you last wear those earrings?”

“I wore them to the funeral.”

That's why they had looked so familiar! I knew I had seen the earrings recently and remembered how well they went with Nora's dark suit.

“When did you last see them?”

“Right after the funeral. I put them in my jewelry box. Someone must've come back and taken them.”

“Did you see anyone go upstairs after the funeral?”
“No.”

“Did you have any visitors after the memorial service?”

She blushed and I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Did Alex Ware come see you?”

“He stopped by for a few minutes.”

“Did he go upstairs?”

She colored again. “No! Do you think that I'd…” She stopped and put her head in her hands. “I was upset. Alex stopped by to see if I needed anything. He was only there a few minutes.”

“Did you leave him alone?”

“Yes, he said he needed to look at some papers so I left him in the study. You can't honestly believe that Alex…” Her voice broke off again. “Alex would never do anything to hurt me. This whole thing is crazy. I mean, why would I kill Crispin Wickford? It doesn't even make sense.”

“The police believe Crispin saw something the night of the book reading.”

“What?”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately, I don't know.”

Nora made a noise of distress. “Can you please help me, Elspeth?”

“Believe me, Julia and I are doing everything we can to try to figure this out.”

She smiled gratefully. “Thanks so much, Elspeth. Where would I be without you?”

Probably where you are right now, I wanted to say. As I walked away I heard her voice call after me.

“I hope you're as good at detection as you are at writing!”

For her sake, I hoped I was better.