“Don’t worry about us, Natasha. Keep us informed about Charlene.”
She grabbed a handbag and rushed off to her garage. By that time, no one was outside. Larry and Helbert begged off and departed. I had expected as much. It was hard to stay in a party mood after something that dramatic happened.
The rest of us pitched in to clear the table and extinguish the lights. Back in Natasha’s kitchen, Nina wrapped the leftovers and stored them in the refrigerator. I washed dishes while Mars and Benton dried them.
“What on earth could have happened to Charlene?” asked Nina.
Mars put away the clean forks and knives. “It was pretty obvious that someone beat her up.”
Nina studied the cake. “Do you think that someone was trying to keep her from coming here?”
“Their father!” I exclaimed. It was a gut reaction, but as soon as I said it, I realized that it made no sense. “Except her hair had dried blood in it. I don’t think the attack on her was recent. And from what I gather, neither of them knows where their father is, so it’s unlikely he was involved in the attack on Charlene.”
“How long does it take for blood to dry?” asked Mars.
Benton polished a plate with a kitchen towel. “One hour for one droplet at room temperature.”
Mars, Nina, and I stopped working to stare at him.
“What?” asked Benton. “It’s public knowledge. The government did a study. It depends on the ambient temperature.”
“Did either of you know that?” asked Nina, looking from me to Mars.
Benton chuckled. “I read a lot of oddball articles on the Internet.”
Mars’s phone buzzed and he walked away to answer it.
I washed the last plate and wiped the counters clean while we continued to speculate about Charlene’s bizarre appearance at the dinner party.
Mars barged into the kitchen. “Excuse me, but something has come up. I need to borrow Sophie.”
“What happened?” asked Nina.
“A problem with Wesley and Tilly. Grab your purse, Soph.”
“Mars!” I protested.
“We need to hurry,” he hissed.
I frowned at Mars. “Are you serious?”
“Come on already!”
“Nina, would you mind locking up?” I asked.
Mars tugged at my hand. In a flash we were out the door in the cold.
“Is this just a lame excuse to leave?” I asked.
“We’ll make better time on foot, I think.”
“Mars! Will you please answer me?”
He looked down at my feet. “I’m glad you didn’t wear heels. We can walk faster.”
“What happened?” I asked, getting worried now that it was sinking in that Mars hadn’t tried to tear me away from Nina and Benton.
“Abby’s phone is on the move.”
Chapter 15
Dear Natasha,
Is it true that it is bad manners not to turn off your cell phone when sitting down to a meal with people? What if you’re expecting an important text?
VIP in Hot Coffee, Mississippi
Dear VIP,
Turn off your phone. It is the height of rudeness to take calls or check your phone during a meal. For the etiquette impaired, “during a meal” means from the time you walk into the home or restaurant until you depart from the home or restaurant. I don’t care if you haven’t ordered yet or if you are waiting to be served or to pay. If the text is that important, maybe you shouldn’t be out having lunch, anyway.
Natasha
“She’s alive!” I finally walked faster. “How do you know?”
“Sorry, clearly I couldn’t say anything in front of Benton.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Really, Soph? Excuse me, Benton, but your wife the murderess has been located through her telephone. What if he contacts her and tells her the cops are onto her? All she has to do is ditch her phone and whammo! They’ve lost her again.”
Of course. I should have realized that. As we walked closer, I saw people watching Wesley and Tilly’s house. A TV van was parked across the street
“Hold it!” I seized his arm and brought him to a halt on Tilly’s street. “How do you know this?”
“Wesley texted me.”
I was wondering how Wesley could know, when a reporter ran up to us. “Mars Winston! Is it true that Abby Bergeron was not the woman in the freezer? Is Wesley Winthrop having an affair with Abby Bergeron?”
“What?!” I looked at Mars.
“Just ignore them.” He held onto my elbow and ushered me through the cluster of reporters. We were peppered with odd questions as Mars and I hurried toward the house.
I was shivering. My lace top had been fine while we ate dinner, but the night had grown colder and it wasn’t warm enough for a hike through Old Town.
Tilly flung the door open and motioned to us to enter quickly. “Isn’t this ridiculous? They’re claiming that Wesley is a murderer!”
“One of them asked us if he was having an affair with Abby,” I said.
“That’s so offensive! Where do they get these crazy ideas?”
It might be offensive but it had crossed our minds, too.
Tilly showed us into the cozy family room in the back of the house. A fire blazed, and mugs sat on the rustic coffee table. The TV was on but muted. Wolf paced the room, his phone to his ear.
Wesley perched on the L-shaped leather sofa, his hands knotted into fists. The man I hadn’t recognized when I saw him before stood in the shadows watching Wolf.
None of them greeted us. I hoped things would go well, because the tension in the room was enough to make it explode.
“Would you two care for a brandied hot chocolate?” asked Tilly.
“Not for me, thanks,” said Mars, who made a beeline for Wesley. “What’s the status?”
“I’d love one,” I whispered to Tilly, so I could hear Wesley’s response.
“The police triangulated Abby’s phone and were able to zero in a little closer using GPS. It’s in Reston, Virginia, and on the move.”
“So Abby is definitely alive!” I exclaimed.
“Looks like it. The cops are trying to find her,” said Wesley. He gazed at Wolf hopefully. “They’ll probably arrest her for murder.”
His pupils were large, and his chest heaved with each breath as though he’d been running. This was obviously a big source of stress for him. Not that I could blame him. He would be relieved when Abby was caught and the speculation about his involvement ended.
On the other hand, if he was really having an affair with Abby, he might be nervous because the truth would now come out.
The man I hadn’t recognized before edged toward me and said, “Hello, Sophie,” as if he knew me. Why did he look familiar? Big bushy eyebrows topped intense brown eyes. He wore a short mustache and a day’s worth of beard growth.
I was immensely relieved when Tilly said, “You know Stu Jericho, of course.”
Stu smoothly said, “I see Sophie at a lot of the big events in town. Let’s see, I think the last one was the art benefit gala.”
The room grew silent as we waited to hear an update from Wolf. Tilly handed me a mug of hot chocolate with a marshmallow garnish decorated with green candy melts to look like Frankenstein.