A Willing Murder (Medlar Mystery 1)

When the three of them remained silent, Gena seemed to at last see the anger in their eyes. “Look, if you think I had anything to do with that murder, you’re wrong. All I did was give payback for what she’d done to me. It was a high-school prank. Nothing serious. Besides, right after that, I left for college. But then I found out I was pregnant, so I had to drop out. I married that no-good bastard Dane and I—” She shrugged. “But you don’t care about what happened to me, do you? Only to that Morris girl. If you ask me, she got what she deserved. She asked for it. She—”

“Who else did you see at Cheryl’s house?” Kate asked loudly. “Who else visited?”

“Arthur Niederman. I saw him there several times. But I think he went there for the mother—if you know what I mean.”

“Who was Cheryl’s boyfriend?” Sara’s teeth were clenched.

“The only one I saw is baby boy here. And who knows what they did when I wasn’t there? Maybe I guessed the truth.”

When Jack made a movement, Sara and Kate each grabbed an arm in case he decided to leap on her.

“Did you see anyone else?” Kate asked. “Anybody at all? Male or female? Young or old?”

Gena’s wrinkled face seemed to drain of color. “You think I saw the murderer, don’t you?” She stood up. “If he’s watching you guys, he’ll connect you to me. Get out! Get out! Now! Go!”

They hurried out the door, Jack’s crutches catching on a torn piece of carpet, but Sara halted. “On the night you went out with the Olsen kid, the ‘champagne’ you had was actually apple juice. And Elaine did not sleep with Jim. He was honorable and went back to you. But you broke up with him. Nobody has been at fault for your rotten life but you.” Sara stepped outside.

With a sneer, Gena slammed the door.

When they got to the car, Sara took over. “You!” she said to Jack. “Get in the back. I’m driving.”

He didn’t protest. He handed Kate his crutches and she put them in the back.

Jack climbed into the rear seat, and Kate took the front passenger. Sara quickly turned the dial on the GPS to direct them through the labyrinth of Miami to get them home.

She handed her cell to Kate. “Send a text to Gil to come over with full padding. He needs to get rid of some energy.”

She didn’t have to say who “he” was. Kate glanced over the seat at Jack. He looked like a cross between a volcano about to erupt and a man who was going to sink into a depression and never come out of it.

Kate sent the message and they went home.

FIFTEEN

Kate was sitting on a stool in the kitchen and she looked at the clock. Again. “How long have they been at it?”

“Two hours and ten minutes,” Sara said. “Neither of them can take much more.”

Behind them, coming through the open doors, was the pounding sound that Kate was beginning to recognize: leather hitting leather. Since they’d returned from Gena’s house, Jack and Gil had been boxing. Or rather, Gil held the hand pads while Jack hit them.

For a while, Kate had watched them, but the anger on Jack’s face had been too much for her. She remembered Sara saying that Jack’s fights with his father had been sick making. Scary. Kate could believe it.

She’d left the men and gone to her bedroom to have a long telephone chat with her mother. She heavily sugarcoated it all. Yes, everything was fine. Yes, she was working, had already sold a house. Yes, she was still seeing Alastair Stewart. Nothing serious yet, but maybe. No, Sara hadn’t thrown one of her temper tantrums. Yes, Kate had been thinking about moving into her own place.

After she got off the phone, Kate took a shower and left her rooms. Jack was still pounding away or clunking about on the stone pavers in his cast.

“Gil will make him stop,” Sara said. “And it’s not all boxing.”

Kate had seen that Gil was ordering Jack to do sit-ups, push-ups, hobble fast on his crutches. Anything to burn off the energy from what he’d heard.

Abruptly, there was quiet, and moments later, Gil walked through the house. He was sweaty and exhausted. He started to speak but then shrugged and went out the front door.

Jack came behind him, wearing only baggy shorts and his cast. His entire body was dripping sweat. It was cascading off him.

Sara handed him a tall glass of water, which Jack drained. She refilled the glass from the refrigerator door and he drank that one. Halfway through the third glass, he sat down on the stool beside Kate.

The women looked at him.

“Roy really did think he was protecting me,” he said.