SO IT'S MURDER

Since the death of my bitchy little neighbor I had been in a funk. Trying not to think about the mess I might be in, trying to forget feeling deserted by the only friendly person I had met since coming here for a quiet writing retreat. Since the grilling by the local sheriff, my friend Jennifer had all but disappeared. My recourse was to brood, to skip meals, to drink too much. All the facts leading up to this mess are in previous entries.

                                               CONSIDERING MURDER

                                                                Part 5

The jangle of the phone pierced my drink and fatigue induced sleep. “Hello”  My voice felt as hoarse at likely sounded, the result of too much drink and lack of use.

“Connie, that you? It’s Jennifer.”

I bolted upright. “Jennifer?”

“Yes, Jennifer. Remember me?”

Had I been hangover free and rested I might have screamed, but I said in a near whisper, “What can I do for you?”

“It’s more what I can do for you. The autopsy is done.”

“How do you know?”

“Jake ran into the sheriff. He told him.”

“Who’s Jake?”

“Connie, are you drunk or just stupid? Jake – my husband Jake. Anyway the autopsy on your pond kill  is done.”

“And?”

“Thought you’d like to know.  Bang to the head, not a fall.”

The silence got to me first . “An attack – like?”

“Like she was bonked on the head. Can I come over?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Your interest grabs me. Be there in half an hour. Be decent.

                                      *                 *                  *

Hastily showered, shaved and dressed I waited impatiently for Jennifer whose half hour was stretching out. I resisted a wanted and needed drink. I did not hear her car, but there she was pushing open my front door. “You look like shit.” Emptying a paper bag onto my table she continued, “I brought coffee—that’s why I’m late. Coffee and sandwiches. When did you eat last?”

“Not hungry?”

“Eat anyway. Dilutes what you’ve been putting in your stomach. Ham or chicken?”  Before I could answer she thrust a chicken sandwich in my hand. “Now we’ve got things to deal with. If sweet little Amy was bonked on the head, somebody bonked her. Wasn’t you. So all we’ve got to do is figure out who. You were away all that morning—that is what you said?”

“You think I’m lying?”

“Easy Connie. You sound defensive. Best way I know to invite suspicion. You are – you do know this—you are the best suspect.”

“I didn’t even know the little bitch well enough to kill her.”

“Fucking little bitch you called her, if I remember right. I can’t think of anyone who might have a better motive than you.”

“Just so –“

She interrupted, “Look, Connie, I’m likely your only friend around here. And that includes Jake. He’s nursing  jealousy attack. But who can blame him. With all the talk about us.”

“How sweet,” I said. “I haven’t seen or heard from you since that fiasco at the sheriff’s office. What am I to think?"

She burst into laughter. “To what end was I to contact you? To stoke the rumor furnace? Now it seems to me you’d best stop feeling sorry for yourself and figure out what you can do. We have, it seems a real mystery on our hands. Let’s get at it.”

“What about Jake. He won’t mind?”

“He’s on our side. On the QT of course.”

“I thought you said he’s jealous ”

“Was jealous. Now what do say we get to work on what we know. Jake is coming by after he gets off from work. But nothing until you eat that sandwich.”