I’d only been to one previous mystery convention, but the bar had played a major role in the social aspect of the gathering.
Robin nodded. “For at least an hour. In retrospect, it was a bad time to get out of the public sight to talk to Jeff. But we were just so pumped about the plot, and how we’d work out who would do what…” His eyes went out of focus.
“Well,” I said stoutly, “I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t believe Jeff. And he’d have had to be an active collaborator in a super-elaborate plot for you to have pulled it off. If you even could have.”
“Even if I’d had Jeff cover for me, to have come home, killed a woman, and returned to Nashville only to fly back here in the middle of the night … I just don’t think it’s possible.”
“No one came to Jeff’s room while you were talking?” I asked wistfully.
Robin shook his head.
I brightened. “The cell phone records will show where you were, right? From the tower pinging, or whatever?” I’d read enough mysteries to know that was possible.
“Sure,” Robin said. “But I had my GPS tracking device turned off. It creeps me out when I get ads tailored to my location. I think it can still be done, even if they won’t be able to tell where in the hotel I was. But if I was anywhere in the hotel, I could not be here.” He turned. “I have to brush my teeth before they grow moss.”
“Of course he didn’t think about staying in the bar,” I muttered after he’d vanished. “Why would he? Just won a major award, the man of the hour, and he goes off to talk to another writer he can e-mail any day.”
The flight time from Nashville to Atlanta was just forty minutes. That was sure a short flight. Damn. But still! People can’t go through airports unobserved and unrecorded anymore. Robin would have had to pay cash for the surreptitious flight, to and from, and as Robin had remarked earlier, people using cash for a last-minute flight are conspicuous. Also, he’d have had to get from the airport to our house, which easily took as long as the flight itself, by some untraceable means.
And (simplest of all) Jeff was an upstanding citizen, and so was my husband. Robin was in the clear without a doubt … at least in my mind. I knew the police would have to (eventually) come to the same conclusion.
But I also knew how people talked. I knew the presence of two other women in our house, and the murder of one of them, would make the mere mention of Robin’s possible involvement really juicy.
I’d heard the hall shower stop moments before, and I caught a glimpse of a towel-wrapped Phillip zipping into his bedroom. In a few minutes he reappeared, fully clothed.
“How was your run?” I asked. I wanted to talk about something else besides the murder.
“A few seconds better,” Phillip said. “Sarah came to clock me.”
I felt relieved and pleased. “Her parents really aren’t put off by the…?”
“Dead woman? No, I guess not.” He seemed surprised, and I could tell he hadn’t considered Sarah’s parents’ natural aversion to having their daughter visit a house where murder had occurred. “Josh and Joss were sure excited, though. They want to know if they can come see where she was.” Joss was Josh’s twin sister. I felt surrounded by twins.
“I’m not going to run tours,” I said tartly.
Phillip was both resentful and embarrassed.
Then I realized I was a jerk. Of course they’d want to see. Human nature. I said, “But if they happen to come over here, and if you happen to take them into the backyard, it would be only natural to point the spot out. No touching the police tape. No one else, though. Seriously.”
Phillip grinned. It was like the sun coming out. With my brother’s blond hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and steadily increasing height, I didn’t believe anyone would ever pick us out of a crowd as siblings.
I was only surprised that there weren’t smitten kids lined up around the block. I had a high opinion of my little brother, though that didn’t mean I didn’t get exasperated with him at least once a week.
Over the months he’d lived with us, I’d learned Phillip’s greatest attraction was that he was not judgmental; he was truly content to let other people live their own lives as they chose, unless they hurt someone else. And he was kind. This was refreshing to find in a person of any age.
“Okay, I’ll call ’em later,” Phillip said. “Are you fixing lunch today? Or should I just scrounge?”
“Sorry, honey, you’ll have to scrounge. I’ll cook, or at least arrange, tonight.”
“No problem. Remind me to tell you about the party last night that got interrupted, Josh just told me,” Phillip said. He turned to go to his room, but then he swung around. He had the guilty air of someone who’d just forgotten to relate a major point. “Roe, you might want to try to call your mom again,” he said.
“Why?” I went on full alert.
“I’m sorry, I just started thinking about … not important. When Josh drove past your mom’s street, there was an ambulance leaving. I don’t know which house. But you might want to check with her.”
I had a flash of exasperation, deeply tinged with fear. I was tempted to let Phillip have it for not remembering to tell me earlier, but he looked appropriately unhappy, and anyway … not the most important thing right now. I waved him off as I grabbed for my phone.
My true anger was with myself. In the back of my mind, I had been wondering why I hadn’t heard from my mother, whether she’d come home or was still at the reunion. Why she hadn’t texted or called or pounded on my door, demanding to know what was happening at my house. Though I had been somewhat relieved I hadn’t had to answer her questions, I had been a little concerned. Now I was gripped with panic.
Mother answered after five rings.
“Where are you?” I asked. “There was an ambulance?”
“I’m at the hospital,” she said, her voice dull. “John’s had another heart attack.”
Chapter Eleven
In the same listless voice, Mother continued. “He was feeling bad at the reunion. We came home early, thank God. As soon as we took our bags into the house, he collapsed.”
“I’m so very sorry. Oh, Mother.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “This is really serious.” My mother, always brisk and in charge of her emotions and actions, sounded hopeless.
“I have to get Sophie situated, I can’t bring her to the hospital,” I said, thinking out loud. “She should be up in a little while. I’ll feed her and get over there.”
“John David and Avery are here. When John started feeling off-kilter, they decided to come home from the reunion early, too. They were at the house.”