Missing Pieces(49)
Sarah opened her own menu. “Do you know if the sheriff arrested Amy?”
Margaret nodded, pursing her lips together tightly. “I don’t know many details but I do know he read Amy her rights.”
“I figured as much.” Sarah dropped her menu to the table. “I got her a lawyer. His name is Arthur Newberry.”
“Nice boy,” Margaret commented. “Took over his grandfather’s practice about a year ago. He’ll work hard for Amy.”
“Do you think Amy really could have done it?” Sarah asked, unwrapping her silverware from the napkin. “I don’t know her well, but I just can’t understand it all.”
“It’s hard for me to believe, too,” Margaret agreed. “Amy has always been a lost soul, but a killer?” Margaret shook her head. “I don’t see her knocking Julia in the head, making her fall down the stairs. It’s probably all a big mistake. The sheriff will figure it out.”
“So that’s what the cause of death was? A blow to the head?” Sarah asked, hoping Margaret might offer some information about the possible use of poison.
“As far as I know,” Margaret answered. “Why? Have you heard something else?” Margaret looked at her curiously.
“No, I was just wondering. It’s all so crazy. I just am having trouble wrapping my head around everything.”
Margaret didn’t seem to have knowledge of the toxicology report linking the poison to Amy’s home or at least she wasn’t letting on that she knew anything.
Clarice set their drinks down in front of them. “So how do you two know each other?” she asked after jotting down their dinner orders.
Sarah froze, not expecting this question from their waitress let alone the sheriff’s daughter. What possible reason would two virtual strangers have to meet for dinner? Margaret plucked the celery from her Bloody Mary. They couldn’t very well tell her that they were colluding to access case files that they had no permission to view.
“Julia Quinlan’s funeral dinner. I’m in charge of organizing the desserts.” She crunched into the stalk. “I’m making my lemon squares. Do you think you could bring one of your strawberry-rhubarb pies?”
Clarice narrowed her eyes with suspicion, but didn’t press further. “Sure, I’ll make two,” she said as she walked away.
“I listened to the audiotapes. They were...” Sarah searched for the right words. “Hard to listen to,” she finished. “Thank you for getting them for me.”
Margaret patted Sarah’s hand. “I know Jack, I know Amy. I knew Lydia and John Tierney. I want to help.”
Sarah squeezed her lemon wedge into her iced tea. “I’m embarrassed to admit that I have to rely on someone I barely even know to fill me in on the details of my husband’s life.” She shook her head ruefully. “I just can’t get Jack to talk about it and I don’t know why.”
Margaret looked at her with sympathy. “You didn’t know about any of it? How Lydia died?”
“No.” Sarah blinked back sudden tears. It was difficult to admit that her husband couldn’t trust her with this information, that he never had.
“It’s understandable, I guess.” Margaret took a sip of her drink. “Think about it. His mother was beaten to death in the cellar of their home and he discovered her body. I heard that one of the young deputies who responded to the call went inside the house, took one look at Lydia, ran up the stairs and outside and quit. Turned in his badge and gun right on the spot. This horrible thing happened to Jack’s family, and when he was finally able to leave Penny Gate, he could put it all behind him. He went off to college, moved to another state, started a new life where no one needed to know what happened in the past.”
“I don’t know...”
“Then—” Margaret held up one finger to show that she wasn’t finished “—he met you and he was faced with the choice of telling you about how his father murdered his mother and then disappeared or taking the hard way out.”
Sarah gave a short laugh. “The hard way out? How do you figure?”
“Listen, honey,” Margaret said kindly. “I know I’m not that much older than you, but I’ve been married twice. My first husband I divorced because I caught him cheating on me. My second husband died of prostate cancer.”
“I’m sorry about that, but I’m still not quite following you,” Sarah admitted, wishing that she had ordered something stronger than iced tea. “How is not telling me the hard way out?”
“Now bear with me. My second husband had cancer for six months before he told me. Later he told me that he wanted to try the active surveillance—” she lifted her fingers to create air quotes “—treatment option first and didn’t want to worry me.
“What I’m saying is, my first husband lied to me because he was a shit. My second husband lied to me because he wanted to protect me and I loved him for it. Now, I’m not saying I wasn’t pissed off. I was, believe you me. But after I got over being mad I realized he was just trying to spare me from any pain for as long as possible. Understand?”
Sarah thought about this. Could Jack really have been trying to protect her? Had he had her best interests in mind all along? Sarah nodded reluctantly. “I think I do.” Still, she couldn’t turn to Jack for any reliable information.