done that before. He’s always too drunk to hurt himself, of course, but I didn’t want him waking everyone else.”
“So you ran back upstairs and then what?”
“And then nothing. David was in bed. If he had fallen, he’d already pulled himself back into bed. Anyway, I decided to wait until morning to talk to Avery. I went to sleep soon after.”
I sat quietly, thinking about what she had said. “Did you see anything or anyone when you were downstairs?” I asked.
“No. Well, other than seeing Chloe in the kitchen when I went downstairs. But she wasn’t in the kitchen when I came back up.”
I stared at the floor trying to puzzle out what all this meant. Could Avery have found out about Roni and David and snapped? And if he had, was it physically possible for him to stab her in the chest while sitting in his wheelchair? I rubbed my hand across my face, suddenly very tired and very confused.
“None of this makes sense,” I said. “Especially when you add the fact that Roni’s necklace ended up in my bureau.”
“I don’t know how that happened. I swear.”
“That makes two of us,” I said with a sigh. “But Detective Grant sure as hell thinks I do.”
Claire suddenly stood up. Clutching the edges of her green terry cloth bathrobe tightly together at the neck, she looked down at me, her expression inscrutable. “I wish I could help you, Elizabeth, I really do,” she said. “But I don’t see how telling Detective Grant that Avery wasn’t in his room will do you any good. It’s not as if Avery could manage the stairs, anyway.”
The memory of Avery struggling to push himself out of the chair to face David’s and Millie’s horrified reactions floated before me. Was Claire’s assertion true? Was Avery really bound to the chair? Caught up in that memory, I did not immediately respond.
She continued, a note of urgency in her voice. “I appreciate your concern, Elizabeth, I do. But I’m okay now.” Giving me a rueful smile, she added, “Unfortunately, I’ve been through this before. The drama is over for the night.”
Pushing aside the possibility that Avery might actually be able to walk, I focused on the more important matter of Claire’s safety. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in my room tonight? Claire, I don’t like leaving you like this.”
“I’ll be fine, Elizabeth. Really. If anything, it’ll be worse if he comes back and finds you here.” She opened the door. There was nothing left to say. Reluctantly, I pulled myself to my feet. “Well, if you’re sure,” I said.
“I’m sure.”
I cautiously peeked out into the dark hallway. I paused in the doorway and turned around to say good night. Claire looked at me, a defiant tilt to her chin. “Elizabeth?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?” My voice dropped to match hers.
Claire paused. “I think you should know that if you tell anyone about what happened tonight, I’ll deny it.”
“Claire, you can’t pretend that David isn’t abusive!”
“I’m not talking about David,” she said. “I’m talking about Avery. I’ll modify my story about the lights if I have to. But if Avery did have something to do with Roni’s death, I will do whatever it takes to protect him. He’s my brother,” she said simply.
“Claire... ”
“No, Elizabeth. Roni was a terrible person. She hurt everyone in this family. Avery is a good man. I’m sure he had his reasons for... well, for telling the police that he was in his room all night. He’s been through enough. I will not add to his misery by contradicting what he said.”
Looking at her now, I realized that Claire had inherited some of her mother’s toughness after all. Her eyes held that same steely firmness that I’d seen displayed in Elsie’s hundreds of times. “I wish I could help you,” she continued, “but I just can’t.” She abruptly stepped toward me. Instinctively, I stepped back, out into the hallway. With a decisive movement, she shut the door in my face. Standing in the empty hallway, still clutching my hair dryer, I heard the soft click as she turned the lock.
I was halfway back to my room when something Claire said hit me. She had said that she usually got up early and went downstairs to drag David back to their room.
Had she done that the morning after the wedding?
Chapter 20
Getting out of bed in the morning is an act of false confidence.
I slept late the next morning. Megan was already gone. I was glad to not have to talk to her right then, and I couldn’t help wondering if her absence had something to do with the discovery of Roni’s necklace. Whether that “something” was a suspicion I had actually taken it or personal knowledge that I hadn’t wasn’t a detail I felt up to dwelling on at the moment.
I glanced out the window over my bed; the weather matched my mood. Rain spit at the glass, and the sky was an endless blanket of gray. I couldn’t blame the weather for my bad temper, though. Who needed a mass of storm clouds to make you feel lousy when you had murder, betrayal, spousal abuse, and lies to do it for you? Pulling myself into a sitting position, I rested my head against the bed’s wooden headboard and tried to mentally organize questions I had about the night of the murder.
First, why had Avery lied about being in his room all night? Where had he been? Had he been lying about the state of his recovery? Could he, in fact, walk? And if he could walk, did Millie know? Was she a willing participant to this lie?
Second, Claire claimed to have immediately come back upstairs after realizing Avery wasn’t in his room, but had she?
Third, David had definitely been having an affair with Roni, just as Bridget suspected. Had he gone downstairs the night of the murder to drink more as he had last night? If so, what did that mean? Could David have killed Roni in a drunken rage? If so, why did he have a room key from the Jefferson Hotel?
Fourth, what was the source of the thump heard by Claire and Chloe? Could they be lying? Why would they both lie? Was Chloe’s reason for being here more than just professional?
I don’t know how long I sat lost in thought, letting the questions swirl about unanswered in my head, but eventually they were interrupted by loud banging on my door. Pulling on my bathrobe, I eased the door open an inch and peeked out. It was Bridget, her face incredulous.
“You broke up with Peter?” she hissed at me as soon as she saw me. “You’re such a shit. Are you okay?”
I sighed and opened the door, and she swept in, highly agitated. I shut the door behind her. Seeing my face, she pulled me into a tight hug. She continued to berate me as she held me.
“I can’t believe you! Peter is the greatest guy you have ever dated and you break up with him? Why?” she demanded.
“Because he was about to marry Chloe a few years back,” I said, pulling away from her. “The only reason they haven’t tied the knot is they decided to take a break and date other people. They wanted to make sure they were ‘meant to be,’ ” I said, illustrating the thought with air quotes. “I’m nothing more than litmus paper for their relationship. He never even
Bridget’s mouth fell open at this and she sank down onto the bed. “Peter used to date Chloe? Peter was going to
“The day of your wedding. Chloe made a point of telling me.”
Bridget gaped at me. “You’ve known since then and you didn’t tell me! Why?”
“It was your
