“Yes, she’s my friend. The three of us went to college together.”
“The three of you, as in Ethan and Marissa? Or Marissa and Elizabeth?”
Sydney, growing impatient, resisted the urge to roll her eyes dramatically. Keep it simple.
“Marissa, Elizabeth, and I,” she said with all the patience she could muster.
“Right,” he said as he reached down into the pocket of his polyester shirt and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. A plain-looking yellow folder sat in front of him. He flipped it open with a pudgy finger and inspected the pages inside.
“It says here you were on a direct flight from Chicago to Negril, Jamaica. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you flying to Jamaica?”
“For a wedding.”
“Whose wedding?”
“As I said before, Marissa and Ethan’s wedding.” She didn’t try to hide the irritation in her voice.
“I see. How do you feel about your friend Marissa getting married?”
Sydney felt the heat rise in her cheeks again. “Well, that’s none of your business.” She leaned back into her chair and folded her arms across her chest.
O’Connell removed the glasses perched on his nose and folded his hands in front of him. For what seemed like an eternity, he simply stared at her. The last bit of patience Sydney was holding on to began to completely unravel. A headache elevated the situation.
“Mr. O’Connell, what is going on here? You pulled me off my flight, locked me in this room, and now you want to chit-chat about my circle of friends?” She could barely control the outrage now spewing from her vocal chords. “As I said, I am on my way to a wedding! A wedding I am going to miss if you don’t let me get on the next flight as soon as possible.”
“Mrs. Evans, this room is not locked. You are free to go whenever you like.”
“Great. Fine.” She stood up too quickly and nearly stumbled. She was still feeling a little shaky from her drug-and-wine-infused slumber. “I would like my things back, please,” she said with as much confidence as she could muster. “And I will be on my way.”
The sound of the chair screeching behind her reverberated throughout the room. Just as she was about to head for the door, O’Connell spoke again.
“But there is something you might want to know first.”
She snapped her attention back to him.
“And what’s that?” she said impatiently.
“You might want to sit down,” he said and gestured to the chair she had just abandoned.
She glared down at him, the florescent panel lights illuminating specs of dust suspended in the air between them. “I’ll stand.”
O’Connell took a deep breath.
“Mrs. Evans, I regret to inform you that your friend Elizabeth Ortez is dead.”
Four
Sydney
“Lizzy is dead!?” It took a moment for the words to register in her mind. It was as if a giant vacuum had sucked the air out of the room. The dull ache in her head broke into a full-on storm of pain.
“What do you mean she is dead? How is that possible? I just talked to her an hour ago, well, I mean, texted. She sent me a message right before I boarded my flight.”
The words seemed to flow from her mouth, undeterred by the alarm bells ringing in her brain.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Evans. Lizzy became…suddenly ill on the plane.”
The room blurred and Sydney’s eyes began to swell with tears. She felt her body begin to give out and reached down to steady herself with the table. “Suddenly ill? And…then she died?”
“Yes, she was ill and then she died of cardiac arrest.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Mrs. Evans, we believe she was murdered.” He waited for her to respond, but Sydney sat still holding her breath. He blinked at her and continued. “Poison was found in a glass of champagne she had been drinking on the plane. Marissa found her unresponsive in the back of the jet when they were about to land.”
Sydney’s hand shot up to her mouth, covering her lips in horror. Poison?! Poor Lizzy! The tears began to burst from her eyes as sobs exploded from her chest. Grief was not a revelation; she had been crying every day since Jack had left her. But Lizzy? She couldn’t believe such a sweet soul would be murdered. Who would want to hurt Lizzy?
O’Connell’s demeanor seemed to change when he saw how distraught she was from the news. The cold metal chair beneath her shuddered as she felt deep, heavy sobs shake her body. He quietly slid a pack of tissues over to her, which she grabbed up and quickly saturated with a mixture of tears and makeup.
After a few minutes of sobbing, Sydney tried to pull herself together. She took a couple of deep breaths, pulled her shoulders back, and faced her interrogator.
“Okay. I…Is this why I’m here?” A thought suddenly thundered into her mind, cutting through her thoughts of grief. “Do you think I had something to do with her death?”
“We are not making any assumptions at this point,” he said, looking away and shifting slightly in his chair. “But any information you can provide would be extremely helpful.”
Sydney wiped another mascara-filled tear from her face. She felt her grief give way to another emotion: anger.
“Of course. Anything I can do to help.”
Inspector O’Connell took a deep breath that expanded his rib cage beyond its usual massive size. He began pelting her with a barrage of questions, which she barely remembered answering. He wanted to know how the three of them had met. How much time she had spent with Lizzy before the wedding. What their relationship had been like the last few months. It wasn’t until he began to ask about Marissa and Lizzy, specifically, that she became concerned.
“Do you know of any reason why Marissa would want to hurt Lizzy?”
Sydney stared at him in disbelief. “No, of course not.”
“What about Ethan—would he have any reason to want Lizzy…out of the picture?”
“No, we all loved Lizzy. She was sweet and caring.” She felt her eyes sting with tears again. Her head seemed to be throbbing louder than anyone else in the room. But her outrage at Lizzy’s death kept her focused.
“Did you know that Miss Ortez was working with Mr. Evans in his office?”
“Really? Uh…no. I didn’t know that.” She vaguely remembered something about Lizzy losing her job at a private prep school in Milwaukee. She had been so preoccupied with her work that she hadn’t exactly been quick about returning Lizzy’s calls.
“I thought she was one of your closest friends?”
“Well yes, but, I have been so busy with work.” She sighed and looked at her hands, feeling the guilt seize her. “We haven’t spoken much lately.”
“I see. Well, do you think that Miss Ortez working in Mr. Evans’ office would cause any trouble between him and Miss Schumacher? Would she be jealous?”
Sydney nearly spilled her coffee on the table. “No. Marissa has no reason to be jealous of Lizzy. That’s crazy.”
“And why is that, Mrs. Evans?”
“Marissa has it all. She is beautiful, wealthy, smart—and she is actually a good person. Lizzy has always struggled to find…stability. So no, it would be the other way around, if anything.”