Dearly Departed Carly Winter (ebook reader for pc TXT) 📖

Yes, the one little detail that put a dent in my theory. “I know. But I think someone needs to take a look at Mrs. Wilson, Bill. She had motive and opportunity, and she's placed herself in the middle of the investigation but has cast suspicion on everyone else.”

“What if Claudia killed him for money?”

“If I were Claudia, I'd make sure I had that will in hand before murdering him. When Mrs. Wilson and I found her in Charles’ apartment, she freely admitted she was searching for it. She didn’t have it. Why kill him over money when she can’t prove she’s the beneficiary?”

“And Karen?”

“She had recently found out that he was married, but she's not a killer. She's too... fragile, almost broken.”

“And Wayne? He was at the apartment twice that day.”

“No. He lost a friend. He didn't care about the money Charles owed him.”

“The hippy?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Honestly, I don't see it. He's too high and into his peace and love to kill. At least I think so. I think he likes spouting his views, but I don't see him having the wherewithal to murder anyone.”

It wasn't worth mentioning that Ringo had also scampered away from Mrs. Wilson when I arrived home and met her in the hallway just over an hour ago. The cat's reaction wouldn't be an important part of evidence to a police officer, but to me, it showed a lot. Ringo had been there when Charles was killed and he'd run from Mrs. Wilson, probably only spending time with her so he'd be fed and not alone.

Bill tapped his pen loudly. “Okay, I'm going to call Peterson and have him come over there. Are you going to be home for a while?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll probably want to see you either tonight or first thing in the morning. I'll have him call you immediately.”

“Thanks, Bill.”

“And Patty?”

“Hmm?”

“If you're right about this and he can nail Mrs. Wilson, you've done some fine police work.”

A slow blush crawled up my neck and into my cheeks. Accolades from the FBI agent? I’d take it. “Thanks.”

“I'll talk to you soon.”

After I slowly set the phone back on the cradle, I sat back against the cushions and closed my eyes. If I dug through enough drawers, I'd hopefully find the cigarette I craved so badly. But did I have the energy to even rise from the couch?

Yes. I also needed a glass of water. Ringo meowed loudly, then scampered away, obviously upset about something.

When I opened my eyes and stood, I found Mrs. Wilson leaning against the front door.

Chapter 22

How in the heck… had I left the door unlocked, or had she used the key I suspected she had in her possession? I really needed to pay more attention to that.

“Hello, Patty,” she said sweetly, standing with her hands clasped behind her back.

I studied every detail of her. She wore a light blue pair of slacks, a white sweater and blue flats. Her normally friendly smile had disappeared and she stared at me with hard, cold blue eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.

“M-Mrs. Wilson!” I said, my voice a little high, despite my attempts to act as if I weren’t scared to death. “I didn’t hear you come in!”

“I was knocking, but there wasn’t an answer.”

Stepping back and to my left, I placed the coffee table in between us. “I’m sorry about that. I-I was on the phone.” Glancing down at the table, I noted the keys. Hopefully, she didn’t notice.

“I was going to leave you be until I heard my name.”

Dang it! “Are you sure you did? I wasn’t speaking about you. I don’t like to gossip. That would be rude.”

Of course, I was lying. Donna and I gossiped with her all the time.

“Oh, I’m very sure I heard my name,” Mrs. Wilson said, walking toward me. “Please tell me who you were talking to.”

“Just a friend, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Do you always speculate on murder with your friends like that?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. What was she hiding behind her back? Could she be ready to kill me as well?

“I knew my plan was risky,” Mrs. Wilson said. “But I couldn’t take it anymore. Charles screaming at all hours of the night, the fights with Claudia… all I want is to live the last years of my life in peace, and that man made it impossible.”

Oh, my word. I’d been right! Yet, she kept approaching me, her hands still behind her back. I was literally trapped, the coffee table to my front, the wall to my back, the couch to my left. The only place I could go was the bedroom, and it seemed that would only corner me further.

Perhaps I should keep her talking? “W-why didn’t you just move?” I asked.

“I was here first. I like living here. This is my neighborhood. Everyone and everything I know is here. I shouldn’t have to go anywhere to find a peaceful life.”

“But killing someone… that seems so extreme.”

“I learned long ago to get rid of the people in my life who bring me unhappiness.”

Both fascinated and horrified, I listened intently while keeping her talking and trying to figure a way out of my apartment and to safety.

“Is that what happened with your husband?” I asked. “Did he make you unhappy?”

“He was a typical man, expecting me to wait on him. I tired of being his maid, bless his soul.”

“So you pushed him down the stairs?”

Mrs. Wilson shrugged and her mouth turned up in a slight grin. “I crushed a few sleeping pills in the mashed potatoes and led him out to the landing. He barely needed my help down the stairs.”

The coffee table was the only thing that separated us now.

“I really put a wrench in my plan by handing you the key today,” Mrs. Wilson continued. “I never thought a stupid stewardess would have noticed. I thought it would be easy to