The way I saw it I had a couple of big problems to closing this case. First, there was proving the murder. No easy task considering I had nothing but the testimonies of Alexis and Este and an empty syringe. And even if the results came back for some sort of medication, that wasn't proof of anything except it was used for, you know, administering medications.
My second problem was the matter of motive. Drugging Diana to get her to change the will makes sense. Killing someone who would die shortly doesn't.
If I looked at the four people involved in the will scam, motive still escaped me. Yeah Malik and Gabe were morally bankrupt enough to steal from their mother, but could they kill her? And why? Robert seemed even more distant and calculated. But why would he kill his golden goose? Corrine disliked her and even allegedly abused her. But to kill her? But then what if she didn't mean too?
Accidental overdose was currently my most plausible answer. But something wasn't right.
The thoughts swirled around my mind as I stared at a darkened ceiling from my bed. If I hazarded a guess, I'd say it was three AM—about the time I get up every day except today because it's Saturday and somehow Manny and Dr. Deb had convinced me to start taking Saturdays off. Something about it not being healthy to work seven days a week for years on end. Normally I wouldn't listen to lazy slackers like them, but I must admit I've been enjoying my days off. Maybe leisure time really is good for you.
Even God rested on the seventh day—or so the tell me. I suppose it doesn't hurt to relax for one day a week. Of course, I could go in. No one would stop me—No. Self-care is self-love or some shit.
I closed my eyes and tried to drift back off, but sleep alluded me. Instead of counting sheep I was thinking of all the ways the Dupont's could have murdered their own mother. And all the ways I could successfully prove it. And how good a donut would be right now. And stamps. And is Gabe really as dumb as he seems. And Manny's face-down cell phone. And how rent's almost due. And where am I going to get a baker as good as Jackson. And passports. And a dirty syringe in my purse. And tetanus. And why was the Night King being so extra about Bran. And how I wish I could see the future through a tree, I would fuck shit up. And I forgot to moisturize again. And am I in love.
I eventually knocked out at about four and awoke at eight forty-five bright and bushy eyed. After a shower, some tea, and a nice warm breakfast (which I hadn't cooked for myself in a long time), I sat at the kitchen table stretching lazily and smiling with content.
Maybe me and Manny could hang out today.
I was so tired when I got in, I forgot to call him back last night, so no plans were made. But I'm betting he'd be willing to spend time with his best girl. I jumped up and unhooked my phone from the charger.
He picked up by the second ring, his voice light and happy. "Morning, baby."
"Morning." I smiled. "Sleep well?"
"Without you? Nope."
"Got plans today?"
"Why? You want to see me?"
"Of course."
"I can't today." He said with an idle sigh. "Mom wants me to swing around and mow the lawn. Then she said she had some other stuff she wanted me to work on around her house."
"Sounds like a long day."
"Yeah, but she's mom."
"How about after?"
"I'm all yours."
I hung up slightly disappointed but still excited about the possibilities.
Henry was busy editing. That meant he'd be locked in his office for the next week. And Alice had some family thing today. I guess that meant the day was mine. Maybe I could stay in and...read. I hadn't read a book in three years! Oh! I know! I got my old sewing machine from mom's house a little while ago. I could sew something! Wait, that takes actual planning though. I'd need fabric and thread and correct measurements and I'm not even sure if the sewing machine is still functional.
But it was nice to engage with the hobbies I'd put on hold—even if for now it was just mental. It's a nice sunny, breezy day outside, let's keep it simple. A walk through the park.
********************************
In no time I was dressed in a light midi skirt and graphic tee and sitting in my car fiddling with the radio. I picked the classic rock station and rolled the windows down to let the breeze keep me cool and got on the road.
The nearest park was about fifteen minutes away. I bypassed the stress of the expressway and stuck to the low roads as I strummed my fingers on the steering wheel and belted along with Tom Petty. Very off-key, but damn it when there's a song in my heart I'm going to sing it. During a commercial I looked around and realized I wasn't too far from Manny's house.
I could swing by and say hello, if he's still home. Of course, that wasn't part of the plan and I was a stickler for a schedule. And I hadn't asked him—oh, what the hell. The spirit of spontaneity had gripped me today, so I made an impromptu turn on Plymouth. I'd swing by, say hello, then hit the park. After that I could lunch at that cute deli down the street and maybe even hit the used bookstore to check out their five-dollar rack.
Manny's large suburban castle was visible just ahead from the four way stop between Pine St. and Oak Ave. His pickup sat outside of the closed garage. I pulled up to the stop sign and sighed as I watched the two motorists who'd beat me to a stop gesture each other to go first. Why does no one understand how four way stops work?
By the time I got through it, Manny had climbed into his pickup and was pulling out of his driveway.
Oh, well. I'd see him later probably anyway. I was about to shift my mental gears back toward my day at the park when I noticed his right blinker activate at the end of the street. He's going right? Didn't he say his mom lived in San Marco? From here you'd go left to hit the expressway, not right.
Where's he going?
Without thinking I followed. Maybe he needs to stop by the store or the bank. Maybe...I drove in silence, my need to sing along with Led Zeppelin smothered by my need to know where my boyfriend was going.
Wait a minute. I'm supposed to be investigating tacky necklaces and million-dollar murderers, not my own boyfriend. What's wrong with me? Stalking? Why am I crazy now? Is this one of those things Dr. Deb said were a reaction to trauma or whatever? Have I lost it?
My behavior was appalling. Following Manny for no reason. He's given me no reason to doubt what he says or who he is. This is just my stupid mind over thinking again. This is that kind of shit that would have got me institutionalized if it was the thirties. The next street I'm turning around and getting back to my—
Hold up. I knew this neighborhood. I knew that cluster of businesses. And the elaborate fountain feature in front of the Suntrust corporate office. The more landmarks I recognized the more my shock rose. But this can't be right. It must be a coincidence.
But just as I thought it Manny turned down the exact street I'd turned down many times before. I stopped following Manny and started driving toward the destination I knew waited at the end of the next bend. I hoped against hope that Manny would eventually turn off on some other street I didn't know.
But he didn't.
He pulled up to the large modern black and white house and parked right in the driveway, like he'd done it a million times. I stopped the car and watched from a few houses down as he got out and walked toward the door.
Henry stepped out and met him halfway on the porch. They greeted each other with that weird man-hug thing—they clasped hands, pulled together, and patted each other's back. Then they disappeared into Henry's house.
I sat in my car with my mouth ajar; staring pointlessly at the house where the two men who were most important to me were doing God knows what together. I didn't know what was going on, but it better not be a Peggy Scott situation.
I grabbed my cell and dialed Henry. It seemed to ring for all eternity. I imagined him staring down at his phone and contemplating whether to answer at all. Coward.
The line snapped alive suddenly. He answered, carefully. "Hello?" The uncertainty in his voice pissed me off but I pushed it aside.
"Hey! It's a beautiful Saturday and I'm off and bored. Let's do something. We could catch a movie, or I heard the Home and Patio show are in town." There was something unnatural in my voice. It was too high, too chipper, and too impersonal for who I was speaking with. "Or we could hit the used bookstore. Haven't been in a while."
He cleared his throat. "Oh, I wish I could Evie, but I'm getting behind with my work and if I don't up my productivity, I'll miss my deadlines." So rehearsed.
"Aww. That's too bad. Manny's busy helping out his mom today so I guess I'll have to entertain myself or call Alice."
"Alice is fun." He said it quickly; anxious for me to move on.
"She is." And so damn honest too. Bless her. "Anyway, call you later?"
"Yep."
I hung up before I could curse him out. I prefer to curse people out face to face. I opened my door, tossed my phone in my pocket, and left my purse in the car. It was a safe neighborhood no one would bother it. Then I marched at Henry's front door; my ponytail swaying aggressively. A breeze blew. My sneakers scuffed the asphalt. Children laughed in the distance. My anger rose with each step.
I walked up the driveway and past Manny's pickup. The front porch was as minimalist as always; the tiny white pebbles in the rock garden reflected the light of the sun. I rang the doorbell and waited.
Henry opened the door with a big smile that quickly deflated when he saw me. "Evie—"
I pushed past him and into the foyer. "Hi!"
"Evie, your shoes!"
I kicked them off and let them fly back against the door. "So funny coincidence. My boyfriend is parked in your driveway. Does his mom live here? I'd love to meet her."
"Now, Evie."
"Don't." Something about his tone rankled my nerves all the more. When I saw the box of pizza and opened beer bottles on the table, I felt the love bubble finally burst. "Commence the explanations or fuck right off."
"Okay so you know when we had that double date?"
I crossed my arms over my chest. "This better not end with you two discovering you're each other's one true love."
"No, no. A couple of weeks ago I ran into him in the hardware store—"
Footsteps sounded from the hall. Manny walked in wearing jeans, a collared tee shirt, and white socks. "What's taking so—" He looked at me and his words died in his throat. "Oh, shit."
I pointed at him. "You! Explain."
"Evie, calm down."
"Calm down!"
Henry kept trying to stammer out an excuse. "So one day, we ran into each other at the hardware store. We had a chance to talk. Turns out we have a lot in common."
"A lot in comm—" My hands flew to the sides of my face; my skin was flush, and my temples throbbed. My hands dropped to my sides. "Like being fucking liars!"
"Like video games and basketball and humor."
Without permission my voice raised an octave. "And being backstabbing bitches!"
Manny cut in to defend him. "That's not fair. Can't I have friends?"
"You already have friends. And don't turn this back on me."
"Baby," He tried to reach for me, but I stepped back. "I'm sooo sorry."
"Don't tell me sorry. Just tell me why." They looked at each other. Something about it was sickening. "Why would you lie?"
Manny cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. "Well...you...can be a little theatrical about these things."
I inhaled deeply and huffed it out. "Oh my God. I will kill us all."
Henry pointed at me. "See!" The two exchanged another look like they'd caught me in some previously discussed pattern. "We just wanted to avoid drama."
"Drama? You calling me dramatic?"
"Just...a bit." His voice softened just a little. "And you've been going through some stuff lately. We didn't want to overwhelm you."
I turned back to Manny. "What about you Honest Abe? I thought you didn't like lying. I thought you preferred a relationship with open communication."
He nodded fiercely. "I do! I didn't mean to lie. I was just trying to find the best way to tell you."
"But why?"
"We didn't want you to freak out."
"Like I am now?"
"It was so hard to bring up in conversation."
"How long has this been going on?"
They were silent; exchanging veiled looks that bounced between them like tennis balls. "Couple weeks." I heard one of them say.
"I...I got to go..." I turned back toward the door.
Manny took a couple of cautious steps toward me. "Evie, wait. We should talk about this."
There wasn't really much to talk about. I stomped to the table and grabbed a slice of their liar pizza. "For my troubles."
"Hey, we went half on that."
"Bi—...fuck you. Fuck both of you." I took a big bite, then frowned. "This is awful."
"It's a supreme." Henry swallowed and quickly added, "That's another thing we have in common!"
"How many times do I have to tell you turkeys? Bell peppers do not belong on a fucking pizza!"
I'm not proud of myself but I threw the pizza on the floor. Well, okay. I gently tossed it back toward the table but missed and watched it slip and smear on the hardwood. I decided to commit to being an asshole and declined to apologize. So, there.
That was how I left them. I returned to my car, cranked up, and drove off. Neither of them tried to follow, though my phone started ringing off the hook. I don't know how long it was but eventually I realized I was driving in circles and that my emotional state was maybe making my driving less safe than it should be. I didn't cry or anything, but I was too emotional (read: mad as hell) to drive in such heavy traffic, so I pulled in the near empty parking lot of a fabrics store, parked, and cut the engine.
Those sons of bitches. Lying sons of bitches! Lying sons of bitches having a little bros day behind my back. They don' fucked up my whole day. I leaned forward and let my head rest against the steering wheel, all the while, my phone just kept on ringing. I got so annoyed by it I picked it up, intent to curse out which ever one it was but discovered the number for Pharma Check.
I answered quickly. "Yes! Hello?"
"Is this Evelyn Harper?" Said a chipper voice.
"Yes."
"This is Cheryl from Pharma Check. We have the results from that syringe you brought in."
Morphine? Oxycodone? Potassium? Something more lethal? "Yes?"
"You'll be happy to know it was clean."
I blinked. "Clean?"
"Yes ma'am." She declared proudly.
"Are you absolutely positive?"
"Oh, yes. The lab concluded no substance had ever been used in the syringe."
If that was true, then the cherry on top of a truly shitty day was my only piece of evidence wasn't evidence at all. Fucking great. "Nothing, huh?"
"Yep." She said in that high, pleasant voice. "Nothing but air."