He studied me, most likely assuming (correctly) that I was lying.
I leaned forward. “Want to know what I think?”
“You’re going to tell me anyway, so lay it on me.”
I smirked. “I think Gene helped Tyler Carr fix the election in Tyler’s favor. Then Tyler killed Gene because he was blabbing about his corruption. So you can take my sister’s name off your suspect list.”
Alex stroked his chin for a second. “OK, let’s think about your theory. It makes sense, sort of. But the fact remains that your sister’s gun and bullet were used to kill Gene. How do you explain that?”
I took a deep breath to steel myself. “Her weapon was stolen. You haven’t found the gun, have you?”
That loser took her gun to frame her, but we didn’t have evidence of that yet. A chill went through me. “She reported it stolen almost immediately. Why would she shoot someone and then report a stolen gun? Makes no sense.”
Alex leaned forward and propped his chin in his hand. “No. We haven’t recovered the weapon. I appreciate you sharing this video with me, and I’ll take it under advisement.”
I wondered if that was cop speak forget lost. “So does that mean my sister’s no longer a suspect?”
He stood up, which meant it was my cue to leave. “Everything’s still on the table, Ms. Andrews. But this video does provide some interesting evidence about an election. We’re going to have to analyze it for authenticity, of course.”
“Of course. But listen, you have to know something. My sister’s not capable of killing any living creature. Christ, she adopted an iguana that I fished out of a toilet yesterday. She hated Gene, but she’d never hurt him.” I took a deep breath. “She, well, we, are about to open the bookstore. We don’t want murder rumors to tank our business. I’m urging you to make an arrest or clear her name. Or something.”
I wasn’t above begging at this point, and looked at Alex with a pleading expression.
“Justice is sometimes slow. If there was election tampering, we might have to call in additional resources, like the feds. This could complicate the murder case.” He reached for his pen and clicked.
The realization that this could take months to resolve made my heart plummet to my feet. I nodded slowly and walked out, wondering if I should’ve had Jack deliver the video instead. Would Alex have taken him more seriously?
I sighed as I trudged to my car. This wasn’t the instant resolution I’d hoped for.
# # #
The next couple of days crawled by. Much to my dismay, on Friday morning, Jack had to make a quick overnight trip to Miami for an in-person faculty meeting and to check on the tenant renting his home. It was a bit shocking to realize that I actually missed him.
I didn’t tell Vera any of this, of course. It seemed supremely unfair that I’d found someone interesting right as her relationship was breaking apart. Plus, I wasn’t sure what was going on with Jack. Were we friends with benefits? Would we eventually end up in bed? Or would our relationship fizzle once our investigation ended (whenever that was, hopefully sooner rather than later).
So we focused on work and avoided all topics involving Tyler, relationships, or men. We kept our viewing to bad reality TV while drinking box wine.
We also managed to get the proper permits for serving food and beverages at the bookstore, and we were exactly one week from opening. I could tell by the frequency of Vera’s migraines that she was getting more and more nervous.
On Friday evening, I even brought her a smoothie in bed. Because it was oppressively and uncharacteristically hot for January in Florida, I’d made blenderfuls of various fruit concoctions. They were tasty and healthy, and I whipped one up into a smoothie bowl, topped with fruit, nuts, and granola. I figured I might have to spoon-feed it to Vera, who lay in her darkened bedroom after a long day of paperwork and last-minute preparations. I left the door cracked a bit so the hall light spilled inside just enough that I could make my way to her bedside.
“Please eat a little,” I begged.
She sighed and sat up against her pristine white tufted headboard. When the curtains weren’t drawn and the room wasn’t shrouded in darkness, Vera’s bedroom looked a lot like the store, with lots of pastel florals, worn white furniture, and soft pillows.
“It’s going to be OK.” I spoke soothingly, as if I were trying to coax Catsy into her carrying case. “We’ve gotten so much done these past few days. We’re ready to open. You’ve been amazing.”
“I’m still thinking about Tyler. He texted me five times today.”
I stirred the smoothie bowl. “Try some. Lots of healthy nutrients.”
She opened her mouth and I fed her a spoonful. “That is tasty,” she murmured, taking the spoon and bowl from me.
At least she was eating. “What did you tell Tyler?”
“I said what you told me to say. That I’d get him the cash by the end of the week.”
Even though it was technically the end of the week, I wanted to stall. I was prepared to take out a loan from my 401k to pay off Tyler, but that would take time. Part of me kept hoping the probate judge would rule in our father’s estate, and we’d have access to our inheritance. Who had known that the court would take months with Dad’s estate?