Malpractice Makes Perfect

Chapter 11

          While plenty of people had motive to kill Diana, few had the opportunity. Margaret Scott was one of Diana's oldest friends and apparently Diana had wronged her enough to end the friendship decades ago. Could a grudge be so strong it drove you to murder decades after the fact?

          Even if she wanted to, could she pull it off?

          Maybe not, but it's better to cover my bases. Alexis  in her quest to be awesome had given me Margaret's phone number. I'd thought about calling and asking my questions, but I didn't like to do that over the phone. There was so much more information conveyed face to face. The raise of an eyebrow. The twitch of a lip. The darting of eyes. Body language was essential.

          That's how I found myself sitting in my car on the street in front of Ms. Scott's house, snacking on a burrito while staring intently through the driver's side window. With her phone number I'd been able to use a little internet magic and got her address. My original plan was to drive by on my lunch to get a feel for things before I came back after work when she was more likely to be home.

          But there was a car in the driveway.

          That didn't mean she was home mind you, but when opportunity knocks...

          I pondered this conundrum as I munched beef and beans thoughtfully. I could go with the original plan; go back to work and show up after five when she was more likely to be home. But then she was also more likely to be low on patience. Especially if she had a bad time at work. I could walk up there now but car or not, she might not be home. Or if she was, she might not be alone.

          The high jingle of my phone filled the car like music. I swallowed and picked up but my mind was distracted. "Yes?"

          "Hey girl. What you up to?" Alice's deep melodic rasp made the phone vibrate with her every word.

          "Staking out a house."

          "Oh yeah? How's your maybe murder going?"

          "Curiouser and curiouser."

          "I guess you're not available for lunch then?"

           "No, sorry."

          "Alright. Call me later."

          We said our goodbyes and I resumed thinking about the task at hand.

          Whatever I was doing I should do it fast before someone calls the cops on the crazy stalker lady watching a house from her car while eating a burrito. So what's it going to be? Do this now or come back later...

          ...Never do tomorrow what you can do today.

          I wrapped the remainder of my lunch back in its wrapper and took one last sip of sweet tea. Then I reapplied my chap stick, grabbed my purse, climbed out of my car, pulled my khaki short shorts out of my ass, and then strolled across the street like I was on a mission to sell Mary Kay products and not investigating a possible murder. All smiles, relaxed posture, pep in my step—nothing unusual here.

           Margaret lived in a one level four bedroom with a sizable yard. The car in the driveway was a well-cared for Lexus. The vegetation around the porch was calculated and intentional. When I rang the doorbell a dog barked from inside. Sounded small. Probably an arm breed like a yorkie or a chihuahua. Seems like the thirty years between Margaret and Diana's fallout had been kind enough to her. Not millionaire kind, but yorkies and Lexus's weren't cheap.

          After no sign of movement on the other side of the door, I got impatient and rang again. Might not be anyone home. Car could be parked for repairs. I was about to call it in and get back to Taste Teas when I heard a muffled voice talking to the dog on the other side of the door.