One Deadly Sister

wearing. You look different, Sandy. What’s wrong, this whole business getting to you?”

“Linda, you acted surprised when I mentioned Mrs. Crawford to you the other day, but you must have been aware of her. There are only two apartments on that floor. You’ve been to Towson’s apartment several times.”

“You’re right, a cop at the scene said there was a witness who described the scarf, and I didn’t think about Mrs. Crawford. But yes, I knew Towson from over the years. Sandy, you’re using an accusatory tone and I think I know why. I must confess I did something very dumb.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“No, not that bad. Goddard hauled me in because they found my prints on a wine glass found on Towson’s nightstand.”

“Geez, how does one explain one’s prints at a murder scene?”

“In the middle of the afternoon that day, I went up there and interviewed Towson. I had a glass of wine with him in the study. After we talked, I picked up the glasses and put them in the kitchen by the sink. I left and forgot all about it.”

Clever, very clever, Sandy thought. But why try to hide it if that’s what actually happened? “So, how did the glasses find their way onto the nightstands?”

Linda shrugged, she didn’t know.

“You didn’t think having wine with him was important enough to tell the police?”

“No, I didn’t. Why would I think it was significant to have a glass of wine with him in the study? Why on earth would I think someone would move my dirty glass from the kitchen to the bedroom?”

“Actually, the fact you put your dirty glass in the kitchen proves my theory of the bedroom scene being staged. The clever killer saw the dirty glasses and realized that someone’s prints must be on them, and placed them in the bedroom.”

“This is all news to me. I didn’t even know about wine glasses being found on the night stands.”

“Here goes, showdown time. Was she with Sandy or against her? “Linda, have you been following me?”

“No, just that one night when Huress was stalking you. What makes you say that?”

“I have trouble believing you parked outside my apartment for two hours for investigative reporting reasons. Was that the truth?”

Linda waited some time before answering, “God, I feel like I’m back in high school right now. The truth is I kind of got fixated on you.”

“Fixated?”

“Oh, God this is terrible. Sandy, the truth is you’ve just blown me away.” She barely got the words out. She turned and took a deep breath. Her eyes were glistening when she looked back.

Sandy said nothing.

“So now you know. I couldn’t believe it when you first walked in here. You have that big-city look and style. This is a small seaside town, there’s nothing like you between Atlanta and Palm Beach.” She straightened and made an embarrassed laugh. “I have to stop telling you this stuff because if I go on, I’ll scare the hell out of you, and you’ll run out of here screaming.”

“This is upsetting, Linda.”

“The reason I parked outside your apartment for two hours is simple, I did it so I could be close to you. I sat staring up at your window imagining what you were doing.” She had to pause. “I never expected to have a chance…”

Linda was trembling. Sandy reached over and patted her arm. “It’s okay you don’t have to go on. Let’s leave it right there.”

“I’m over it now, I’m all better.” Linda laughed.

Sandy could see that she wasn’t. Was her emotional outburst award-winning or sincere? Sandy wanted to think sincere, but she’d been wrong before. Perhaps, this was the time to get things straight. “Linda, you told me you were from Georgia.”

Linda’s head snapped up. She stared hard at Sandy.

“Please tell me it’s not important, Linda. Tell me you’re not hiding anything. Tell me you decided to anglicize your name and lie about Georgia just for the hell of it.”

“I just told you how strongly I feel about you, Sandy. I thought we were friends. What’s with the third degree? You’re looking at me suspiciously. What are you accusing me of? You think I’m in some Cuban gang or something? I can’t handle all this!” She got up and walked to the window.

Sandy followed her. “I just mentioned Georgia. I didn’t say anything about Cubans. Boy, you’re really touchy about something. Calm down Linda. You know you did tell me you were from Georgia.”

Linda was steamed. Her voice shook, “My father’s from Georgia, he’s up there now, okay? Mom’s Cuban and lives in Tampa. So, I’m half Cuban, okay?” Then angrily, “Does that bother you, Sugar?”

Sandy jerked backward and her mouth dropped open. “Linda! You just spat out ‘Sugar’ like it was the ugliest word in the world.” She put her hands to her face, turned and hurried toward the stairway.

Linda hesitated for only a moment and then ran after her. “I’m sorry!” She caught her at the top of the stairs and turned her around. “I’m sorry, Sandy. We’re still getting to know each other.” Linda reached out and took Sandy’s hands.

“Be fair, Linda, you put yourself in the middle of all this. I didn’t accuse you of anything. We all know Tampa Cuban-Americans are involved in this. Perhaps innocently, but the questions are there whether we like it or not.”

“I know. I’m hyper about it. Let’s go back to my desk and talk.”

“Half of Florida is Cuban-American. You can’t be hyper-sensitive about that.”

“I just thought it would be nice to be a Georgia peach, but that’s not going to happen either.”

“But you’re lovely, just the way you are.”

“You don’t understand, I want to meet someone. Not everyone feels the way you do.”

Sandy could see it now; she had underestimated Linda’s loneliness. Here was distress beyond what she had imagined. Linda would be willing to change her name and move a thousand miles, a thousand times, if she thought it would bring her the person she wanted. “Miss Right is out there, Linda, and could show up tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Linda gave her a tolerant look. “Let’s get off it.”

“And you made up what you told me about your past; the part about a girlfriend, her boyfriend, a dead dog and a fire?”

“No.” She laughed. “That was real, except it happened in Tampa not Georgia. I was a mechanic for Uncle Luis. Who else is going to hire a teenage girl as a mechanic?”

Sandy still wondered about La Familia. “So, the Tampa-Georgia location thing was your only lie to me about your background?”

“Yes, sorry, but remember I didn’t know you back then. You know, you’re right Sandy, everyone underestimates you.”

Sandy was afraid of setting her off again, but she had to ask, “Linda, what about La Familia?”

“Everyone knows it means family. What about it?”

That sounded innocent. Anyway, was it crucial? Was it actually important? Maybe she didn’t want to hear anything that involved Linda in any plot. Maybe Sandy had enough, she didn’t have to solve Towson’s murder, she just has to get Raymond out of it, and go on living. His transfer to county jail was about to happen, no point in holding any info back now.

“Linda, I’ve got a whole lot of things to tell you.”

Linda was excited. “I’ve things to tell you also, better get comfortable.”

They huddled over notes for two hours and ordered pizza and Coke for lunch. After an additional hour, Sandy hurried out of the Park Beach newspaper building. She had just enough time to get to the jail before the end of visiting hours.

***

Sandy was waiting in the visiting room when they brought him in. “Raymond, I’ve been in a huddle with Linda