A High-End Finish(24)

I broke a thick chunk of bread into two pieces and gave her one. “You’ve been inhaling too many paint fumes. It’s affected your brain.”

She laughed, but after a minute of silent munching, we both agreed not to talk about the murder again. The restaurant was filling up and I couldn’t forget that Chief Jensen was sitting a mere thirty feet away. Yes, he was in the other room, but that was still close enough to make me nervous.

As we drank wine and ate more bread, my mood gradually lightened. Our pasta was served, and we chatted about family and friends and the upcoming Harvest Festival parade. I entertained her with my impression of Wendell Jarvick’s attempts to make me carry all his luggage upstairs.

I knew Jane wanted to ask me more about the murder, so when dinner was over, we walked the two blocks back to my house for ice cream. Once our bowls were filled with scoops of sea-salted caramel and chocolate mint ice cream, we sat at my big, old kitchen table, and Jane asked the questions that had been on her mind all evening.

“So, who do you think killed him?”

“I have a list of names if you’d like to hear them.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Well, maybe we can go over them later.” She skimmed her spoon over the scoop of caramel and nibbled it slowly. “What did it feel like when you found the body?”

“It was horrible,” I said, remembering the terror I felt as I stood in that dank, dark basement. “It scared the crap out of me. My first thought was that whoever knocked him off was still hiding down there and I was next.” I shivered at the memory. I told her about tripping over the arm, then seeing the body, and then realizing that it was Jerry Saxton. Dead. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Once I was back outside, I had to call the police.

“So, tell me for real now,” she said. “Who do you think killed him?”

“I really do have a list of possibilities. The names are all in my head right now, but maybe it would help to write them down.”

I pulled out a notepad and handed it to Jane, who wrote as I spoke. I named every woman I’d heard of who had been linked with Jerry. “The women’s fathers and husbands and brothers would be out for revenge, too, so let’s add Luisa’s dad and her brothers, Buddy and Marco, to the list, along with Stan Boyer.”

“Okay.” When we were finished, she looked up at me. “We know most of these people.”

“I know,” I said, feeling the guilt seep in. “I’m sure they’re all innocent, but so am I. So while I’d love to talk to them all, I can’t exactly run around interrogating them. Especially after what Chief Jensen said about me running my own investigation.”

“Maybe you can’t go around snooping, but I can,” Jane said with a determined smile. “And so can Lizzie and Marigold. And Emily, too.”

“I can’t ask you guys to do it.” But I’d had the exact same thought when I was stuck alone in the interrogation room the other night. It made sense. Among us, my girlfriends and I knew every single person in town. Why couldn’t we get some answers?

But then I grimaced as reality set in. “No, it’s too dangerous. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a killer running loose. What if he finds out you’re all asking questions? He could get angry or suspicious or worse.”

“Come on, Shannon,” she said reasonably. “You know everyone in town is talking about the murder. This is Lighthouse Cove. We thrive on gossip. We live for it. Let’s take advantage of the situation and join in the conversation. We’ll look perfectly innocent doing it, and one of us might find out something important that’ll get you off the hook for good.”

I didn’t want to pin too much hope on it, but I had to admit that talking to Jane was helping me let go of some of the anxiety I’d been carrying around. The thought of doing something proactive was exciting, and it was nice to know that my friends might be willing to help.

“And you could be our liaison to Chief Jensen,” I said brightly. Better Jane than me, after all. I didn’t want to see what he’d do if I brought him more “information”—in air quotes—about other possible suspects.

“My pleasure.” Jane took our bowls to the sink. “I mean, it’s not exactly a hardship to look at him.”

“I have to agree. So, why didn’t Lizzie try to set one of us up with him? Or is he married?”

“He’s divorced,” she said, “and I have a feeling it was an ugly one.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I know. That wouldn’t have stopped Lizzie, though. The fact is, she did ask him if he’d like to meet some nice women in town and he said, and I quote, ‘No.’”

I started to laugh. “Just like that, he told her no?”

“Pretty clear-cut, right?” She smiled. “He had no idea that an answer like that would just embolden Lizzie.”

“I’m afraid to see what her next move will be.”

“Me, too.” Jane shook her head. “But he’s obviously not interested in dating right now.”

I agreed and allowed the subject to drop. Reaching for the notepad, I read off the long list of possible suspects. Jane helped me choose which of us five girls knew each person best and could get answers from them more easily than anyone else. When we were finished, Jane made phone calls to Lizzie and the others to set up a meeting the next morning at Emily’s to go over our big plan. I wanted them to be comfortable with what we were thinking of doing. Jane assured me that they would.