“Well what?”
“Aren’t you going to . . . deny it or something?”
“No point,” Buddy said quietly. “I don’t behave like that. Never have, never will. If you knew me, you’d know that without me having to tell you. But since you don’t know me, I doubt you’ll believe me.”
Bettina’s eyebrows went up. “But the sleeve of her blouse was torn. There was a bruise on her arm and she was hysterical. She . . .” She swallowed. “You’re saying she made it all up? You didn’t . . . ?”
Buddy gave her a steady look. “I am saying she lied to you, Miss Higgens, pure and simple. It’s true that Rona Jean got mad at me after we had supper together, but it wasn’t because I slapped her around.” He was too much of a gentleman to say that Rona Jean had gotten mad at him because he rejected her advances. “It’s also true,” he added evenly, “that she wrote me a letter afterward.”
Now that he thought about it, he wondered if some of the things Rona Jean had written to him had come to her mind after she had talked to Bettina. He didn’t know much about psychology, but he’d seen hysterical people. Maybe the things she put in the letter began to seem real to her when she told them to her roommate, especially if her roommate believed her and commiserated with her.
“A letter?” Bettina asked uncertainly. “What kind of letter?”
Buddy met her eyes. “Not a nice one, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
It hadn’t been out-and-out blackmail—somehow, it was more na?ve than that, or maybe she was only half trying. But the letter had ended with several thinly veiled threats that could have been read as blackmail. Buddy wasn’t the kind of person who was easily intimidated, but he’d admit to being relieved when that letter wasn’t followed by a demand of some sort. Relieved, yes, and angry, too. But mostly angry at himself, for getting into that position. He was just damned lucky. She could have caused all kinds of nasty trouble for him, and since there weren’t any witnesses, it would have been hard to defend himself.
And then another thought came to him. If Rona Jean had behaved that way toward him, maybe she had done the same thing with one of the other fellows she was seeing. Maybe the letter to him was just practice, and with her next attempt, she got serious. Something like that—blackmail, more or less—could very well be a motive for murder, couldn’t it?
Buddy stood. “You mentioned a diary. I need to see it. I’d like to take a look at her room, too. And then I’ll get out of your hair.”
Without a word, Bettina got up and left the room. Buddy followed her.
FIVE
The Dahlias Do Business
Verna closed the Dahlias’ treasurer’s ledger and sat back in her chair, satisfied. “Looks to me like we did pretty well, girls. We netted forty-two dollars and seventy-four cents, after expenses. That’s not shabby.”
“It’s a lot better than last time,” Liz replied. “And the time before that, we didn’t even break even.”
“The difference is that we sold a lot more plants,” Ophelia put in. “Getting members to commit to the plant sale a couple of months ahead was a real good idea. They had everything potted up and ready to go, and the plants looked great. They practically sold themselves.”
The Darling Dahlias and the Eleven O'Clock Lady
Susan Wittig Albert's books
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