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Authors: Livia J. Washburn

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

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BOOK: Wedding Cake Killer
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“Did anyone see you leave? The people who own the place, maybe?”

Eve shook her head and said, “Goodness, I don’t know. I don’t believe Jan was there, and I don’t know where Pete was. There are a few other people staying there, but I don’t know any of them except to nod to. I didn’t talk to anyone when I left, and I didn’t see anyone watching me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to everyone who might have seen you. We won’t leave anything to chance. This list you printed out of houses you were considering buying . . . did you check them off or cross them out or anything like that as you drove around?”

“No. There weren’t any of them I could actually eliminate without Roy looking at them. I wanted his opinion . . .”

Her voice broke, and tears started to well from her eyes again.

Juliette leaned closer and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Porter, but I have to know . . . had you and your husband been getting along all right? Had you had any disagreements recently?”

“No!” Eve said. “We’d only been married a few weeks! This was still like . . . like an extended honeymoon for us . . .”

She couldn’t go on. She collapsed against Carolyn again.

Juliette stood up and came over to Phyllis and Sam. “Have you noticed any signs of friction between Mrs. Porter and her husband?” she asked.

“Absolutely not,” Phyllis answered without hesitation. “They were as happy a couple as I’ve ever seen.”

Sam nodded and said, “Yep, I feel the same way. There’s no chance in the world Eve would’ve ever hurt that fella.”

“You’ve known Mrs. Porter for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Ten years,” Phyllis said.

“It hasn’t been that long for me,” Sam said, “but long enough to know she didn’t do anything wrong.”

Juliette smiled faintly. “Well, it never hurts to have good character witnesses. A good solid alibi is better, but . . .” She stopped and shook her head. “What about Roy Porter? How long have you known him?”

Phyllis glanced up at Sam, who stood beside her chair. “We met him when Eve brought him here for Thanksgiving.”

“This past Thanksgiving? Not even two months ago?”

“Well . . . yes.”

“So you barely knew him,” Juliette said.

“We knew him well enough to know that he loved Eve,” Phyllis said. “That’s all that mattered to us.”

“Yes, of course.” Juliette looked at Sam. “You said that investigators from the sheriff’s department want to talk to Mrs. Porter?”

“Yeah. Phyllis’s son, Mike, came by here lookin’ for her. He said that if we saw her, we should call him and he’d come get her.”

Juliette shook her head. “Absolutely not. Mrs. Porter is going to talk to the authorities of her own volition, and if I don’t like the line of questioning, we’ll be leaving.”

“If you try to do that, won’t they just arrest her?” Phyllis asked.

“Not if they don’t have a case. And if they do have a case . . . then we’ll deal with that. Right now, though . . .” Juliette turned back toward the sofa. “Mrs. Porter, it’s time to go talk to the investigators.”

Eve managed to nod. “If . . . if I have to.”

“I’m afraid it’s necessary. The sooner we convince them that you had nothing to do with your husband’s death, the sooner they’ll be able to find out who’s really responsible.”

“Of course. Is it all right if I . . . if I go upstairs and wash my face?”

“I think that would be all right. Mrs. Wilbarger, would you go with her?”

“Why?” Carolyn demanded. “Do you think she’s going to climb out a window and go on the lam or something?”

“I just think it’s a good idea that Mrs. Porter not be alone right now,” Juliette said. “Please.”

“Oh, all right.” Carolyn stood up. “Come on, Eve.”

They left the living room and went upstairs. Juliette picked up her recorder and switched it off. As she was putting it in her briefcase again, Phyllis asked her, “Things don’t look very good, do they?”

“I can’t really discuss the case at this point, Mrs. Newsom, but I will say it would have looked better if certain things had been different.”

“Like an alibi,” Sam said.

Juliette shrugged. “I’ll do everything I possibly can,” she promised. “If Mrs. Porter isn’t taken into custody, will it be all right to bring her back here for the night? I’m assuming that she won’t want to stay at the bed-and-breakfast.”

“Of course,” Phyllis said. “Some of Eve’s things are still here, in fact, so it won’t be any problem for her to stay in her old room for as long as necessary.”

“That’s good. And it’s good that she has loyal friends in a situation like this.” Juliette paused. “She’s going to need them.”

Chapter 11

 

E
ve and
Carolyn came down the stairs a few minutes later. Eve had washed her face and looked a little better now, although her eyes were red rimmed and she looked like she might start crying again at any minute.

Juliette met them at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you ready to go?” she asked Eve.

“Yes, but first there’s something I have to say.” Eve turned to Phyllis. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Phyllis. I didn’t mean it—you know that. I don’t blame you for Roy’s death, I really don’t. I was just so . . . so shocked.”

Juliette frowned at Phyllis and asked, “Why would Mrs. Porter blame you for what happened to her husband?”

“It’s nothing—,” Phyllis began.

“I said that she was cursed,” Eve interrupted. “I said that she was a jinx because murders happen all the time around her. But that’s crazy. There haven’t really been all
that
many murders.”

“There have been a few, though,” Juliette said in a musing tone that seemed to say she was considering Eve’s theory. Then she gave an abrupt shake of her head and went on, “But you’re right. That’s crazy.” She put a hand on Eve’s arm. “Let’s go.”

As they headed toward the front door, Eve looked back and said, “I’m sorry, Phyllis. I really am.”

“It’s all right,” Phyllis assured her. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

But even as she spoke, she wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that Eve was wrong. She wasn’t convinced of that at all.

* * *

With Eve and Juliette gone to the sheriff’s department, it was impossible to concentrate on anything else. Time dragged by as Phyllis, Sam, and Carolyn sat in the living room and drank coffee. Now and then one of them would speak up and make some comment about how Eve would be back soon and everything would be fine, and the others would agree, but the undercurrent of doubt in their voices was unmistakable. They weren’t convinced that everything was going to be all right. Not at all.

It was starting to get dark when headlights stopped at the curb in front of the house. Sam stood up quickly and went to the window. “Looks like Ms. Yorke’s SUV,” he said as he looked out through the gap in the curtains.

The three of them crowded into the foyer. Phyllis opened the wooden door and turned on the porch light. She expected to see Eve and Juliette walking toward the house, but her heart sank as she realized that the lawyer was by herself. Juliette didn’t even have her briefcase with her this time.

She didn’t waste any time, either, as Phyllis opened the storm door. As she was coming up the steps to the porch, Juliette said, “Mrs. Porter has been taken into custody.”

“They’ve arrested her!” Carolyn said. “Oh, my Lord!”

“Let’s get down there and bail her out,” Sam said.

Juliette shook her head as she came inside. “There won’t be a bail hearing until tomorrow morning. She’ll have to spend the night.”

“In jail!” Carolyn said. “She’ll have to spend the night in jail! Locked up in the tank with God knows what sort of degenerates! I’ve seen
Caged Heat
, you know.”

Juliette managed to smile faintly. “Take it easy, Mrs. Wilbarger,” she advised. “The sheriff’s department isn’t a bunch of ogres. Eve has her own cell. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it’s comfortable, but she’ll be all right there. No one’s going to bother her.”

“Let’s go in the living room and sit down,” Phyllis suggested. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”

Juliette nodded. “Thanks. I can use it.”

A few minutes later, they were all settled down in the living room, Phyllis and Sam on the sofa, Juliette and Carolyn in armchairs. Phyllis let Juliette take a couple of sips of the hot coffee before she asked, “How is Eve taking it?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. She seems to be a strong woman. I get the feeling, though, that her strength doesn’t run all that deep. I wouldn’t want to leave her locked up for very long. But I think she can stand it until we get her out of there tomorrow morning.”

“First thing tomorrow morning,” Carolyn put in.

“I’ll do what I can,” Juliette said, “but a lot of the timing is up to the judge.”

“Whatever you need, we’ll come up with it,” Phyllis said.

“The bail could be pretty high,” Juliette warned. “I’ll try to get Eve released on her own recognizance, since she doesn’t exactly come across as a flight risk, but this is a murder case, after all. It’s hard to predict.”

“If you need to put up this house as security with a bail bondsman, I’ll sign whatever papers are necessary,” Phyllis said without hesitation.

“And I can put my hands on some cash,” Sam added.

“We all can,” Carolyn said. “Do whatever you have to. We’re good for it.”

Juliette smiled again. “Mrs. Porter certainly has some devoted friends. That’s good.”

“Did they actually charge her with murder?” Phyllis asked.

“I’m afraid so. They brought out a letter opener while they were questioning her and wanted to know if she recognized it. I stopped her from answering, but it didn’t really matter. Her fingerprints were the only ones on it.”

“A letter opener,” Phyllis repeated. “That was the murder weapon?”

“They didn’t say so, but from the way it was bagged and tagged, yeah, I’m sure it was.”

“What did it look like?”

Juliette held up her hands about ten inches apart. “That long, with a narrow blade and a handle with a little cat’s head at the end of it.”

Phyllis and Carolyn looked at each other.

“You recognize the description, don’t you?” Juliette asked. “It’s all right. I was able to talk to Eve in private later, and she admitted that it was her letter opener.”

“I’ve seen her use it a thousand times,” Carolyn said. “One of her students gave it to her the last year she taught.” A frown creased Carolyn’s forehead. “But I haven’t seen it lately, come to think of it. Have you, Phyllis?”

Phyllis shook her head. “No, I don’t believe I have.”

“Eve said that it should have been in her room here at the house,” Juliette continued. “She claims she didn’t take it with her when she moved some of her things to the bed-and-breakfast. But she couldn’t recall the last time she actually saw it.”

“Didn’t she tell this to the investigators?” Phyllis asked.

“The conversation didn’t get that far,” Juliette said. “When they brought it out, I stopped Eve from answering and told them the questioning was over, that we were leaving.” She shrugged. “That’s when they took her into custody.”

“You keep calling it that,” Carolyn said. “They
arrested
her.”

“Yes, they did,” Juliette admitted. “It doesn’t really matter what you call it.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t think we need to lose sight of just how serious this is.”

“There’s no chance of that,” Phyllis said. “Were you able to find out anything else when you talked to Eve in private?”

“All of this really should be privileged, you know,” Juliette said. “But I can make an exception since Mrs. Porter gave me permission to tell you, and you’re all so close to her, and since you have, well, a history of figuring things out, Mrs. Newsom.”

“Solving murders, you mean,” Carolyn said.

Juliette ignored that and went on, looking at Phyllis, “I’m not your lawyer, so I can’t give you any legal advice . . . but just as an acquaintance, I’d say that the sheriff’s department really seems like they don’t want anybody interfering in this investigation.”

“You mean that’s what the district attorney wants,” Sam said.

“Timothy Sullivan will be running for reelection in less than a year,” Juliette said. “That tends to make a person very sensitive to appearances.”

“So he doesn’t want Phyllis showing up the legal system again,” Carolyn said.

“I’ve never tried to show up anybody,” Phyllis said.

Juliette held up her hands and said, “We’re getting off the track here. Mrs. Porter told me again that she didn’t kill her husband, and I believe her. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but what have the three of you been doing all day?”

Carolyn’s eyes widened. “Oh . . . my . . . God. Now you’re asking
us
for our alibis?”

“You can’t be serious,” Phyllis said to Juliette.

“I’m just trying to nail down all the facts I possibly can,” Juliette explained. “I’ll be asking the same questions of everyone who has any connection to the case.”

“Well . . .” Phyllis shrugged. “I guess that sounds reasonable.”

Carolyn’s “Hmmph!” made it clear that she wasn’t going to go that far.

“I’ve been right here in the house all day,” Sam said. “Well, either in the house or out in the garage. And I’m pretty doggone sure that Phyllis and Carolyn have been, too.”

“That’s right,” Carolyn said. “We haven’t gone anywhere. We’re each other’s alibis.”

Juliette looked at Phyllis. “Mrs. Newsom? Is that true?”

Phyllis nodded and said, “It certainly is. I don’t suppose any of us can actually prove that we’ve been here without relying on the testimony of the other two, but that’s what happened.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Juliette said, “and I think it would be for any reasonable person, too. We can move on.”

“What should we do about the bail hearin’?” Sam asked.

“I’ll call you in the morning as soon as I find out when it will be. I’d be ready to come down to the courthouse right away, if I were you.”

“We will be,” Phyllis promised.

“That’s all any of us can do tonight,” Juliette went on as she stood up. “But if you think of anything that might be helpful, anything you’ve seen or heard that might indicate someone else had a reason to want Roy Porter dead, please call me. You’ve got my cell phone number.”

“Isn’t it obvious that someone else wanted Roy dead?” Carolyn asked. “Someone killed him, and we know Eve didn’t.”

“But you don’t have a defense except for creating reasonable doubt, do you?” Phyllis said to Juliette. “You have to point the finger of suspicion at someone else.”

Juliette’s voice and expression were grim as she said, “Without an alibi and with Eve’s fingerprints on the murder weapon, a weapon that a number of people can identify as belonging to her, we’re not going to prevail on the merits of the evidence. I’m sorry, but there’s no getting around that.”

Sam said, “What you mean is, you need to find the real killer.”

“Well, that would be nice, but I’d settle for some big, fat reasonable doubt in the minds of some of the jurors.” Juliette looked at Phyllis. “So I’m definitely not saying that you need to conduct your own investigation, Mrs. Newsom.”

“I understand that,” Phyllis said.

She also understood that there was no way she was going to allow Eve to be convicted for a murder she didn’t commit.

No way in the world.

BOOK: Wedding Cake Killer
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