A Beeline to Murder

“But why not kill the husband, instead of his lover? Or, better still, just get a divorce, like everyone else does?” Kat asked.

“Stop the money flow and there ends her lifestyle and her ambitious dreams. I’ll bet she has wheedled a small fortune from Jake, including his family heirlooms. I saw her wedding ring setting when we ran into her at the park. It’s a perfect match to the earring Jake had repaired at Lidia’s jewelry shop. I’d say it is pretty nice bling for someone who once worked as a convenience store clerk. Well, that’s what I’ve learned, anyway, from perusing back issues of the Weekly. Apparently, Jake used to go into the Stone Bridge Road convenience store on Sunday mornings for coffee and a newspaper, since his place up in the hills is outside of the news delivery area but near the store. According to one story, that’s where she met him.”

“I gotta say, girlfriend, you have certainly done your homework. Do you think the earring just fell off during the murder?”

“Maybe there was a struggle.”

“Plausible. Proof would be nice.”

“Well, maybe her campaign manager or someone else saw her wearing those earrings that night. I mean, think about it. What reason would Jake or anyone else have for bringing them . . . ever . . . to the pastry shop?”

“She could have dropped it while visiting the chef on another occasion.”

“True, but my instincts tell me different.” Popping a mint into her mouth, Abby said, “This is where Otto could be effective in unearthing her whereabouts in the wee hours of the morning, what she was doing, and what she was wearing when Jean-Louis died. I’m thinking she got a call from someone who thought they could solve her problem by making it seem that the chef had become deeply depressed, depressed enough to hang himself.”

Kat said, “Makes sense, but who would make that call or even know how to reach her in the middle of the night?”

“Whoever it was most likely accompanied Eva to the pastry shop. We know she needed muscles to lynch him.”

“Ah,” Kat said, “so the chef would see Eva’s face and open the door to her.”

“Exactly,” Abby said, checking out Philippe, who was staring back at her.

“Probably,” said Kat. “So she went there to convince the chef not to go to the Caribbean with her husband, and when he wouldn’t agree, she murdered him?”

“Oh, this is where it gets muddy for me,” Abby said. “Maybe Otto could grill Jake, see if he’ll turn on Eva . . . or maybe he could call Eva in, insinuate that he knows about Jake and the chef’s little affair, and make her think we are hot on her trail. She’s too calculating to spill, but if she doesn’t lawyer up, we might get her to reveal something or keep her talking long enough to analyze her behavior. Of course, we could hope for a confession,” said Abby. “We know her marriage to Jake gave her access to power, privilege, politics, and all sorts of people. All that access would change, and a scandal would ensue, if Jake revealed his secret.”

“So if Eva knocked off the chef, who was her accomplice?” Kat asked.

“My guess . . . she called in a favor from a local biker, an ex-felon, or a gangbanger—someone who knows how to get things done, inside or out. I suppose it could also have been a hit for hire. Either way, I think she was there with an accomplice.”

“She’d have her pick of thugs hanging out at the Black Witch, right next door to the pastry shop,” said Kat.

“Yes, and I’d love to know if the killer’s epithelials are on the twine. You did say the twine you found in Dora’s bag was a long piece with a knot. I’ve seen those newspaper bundles with a double length of string,” Abby said.