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Assault and Batter(37)

By:Jessica Beck


“I suppose I’m on it, too, then,” Peter said lightly.

“You had a fistfight with the man the night he died,” I said. “How could you not be on everybody’s list of suspects? I’m surprised Chief Martin let you leave the precinct.”

“Sure, Jude and I fought, but I didn’t kill him,” Peter said.

“What was the fight about, anyway?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was doing the same thing that Emily was trying to do. I told him that if he showed up at the wedding, I’d make him live to regret it, and that’s when he threw the first punch at me. It wasn’t the last one, either, but I got in a few good shots of my own. I might have hit him a few times, but I didn’t kill him. Believe it or don’t believe it. I’m past caring what you think.”

“Do you really think that Peter should be a suspect on your list?” Max asked.

“As a matter of fact, I think that both of you are,” I replied.

“Come on, Suzanne. Neither one of us killed him, and neither did Emily,” Max said.

“So you say,” I said. “While you’re here, answer me this. Do either one of you have an alibi for the time of the murder?”

Max shrugged. “The police chief asked us the same thing. The only alibis we have are each other. We were in a hotel room in Charlotte having a little two-man bachelor party.”

“Can the entertainment at least vouch for you? Come on, Max, don’t try to deny that there were women there, too.”

Max shook his head. “Nope, it was just the two of us. We shared a bottle of single malt whisky, a few really good cigars, and some old stories as we sat on a balcony overlooking the city lights.”

“Just the two of you?” I asked, not believing him for one second.

“I’m marrying Emily,” he said. “I don’t want anybody else.” He frowned, and then Max added, “That’s not what this is really about, is it? Suzanne, you’re not jealous, are you?”

I laughed in his face. “Believe me, I was done with you a long time ago.”

“Then what is it?” Max asked. “Why come after Emily?”

“I’m not focusing solely on her, but I’m not giving her a free pass, either,” I said. “I can’t, not after I read that note.”

“Then I’m afraid that Emily’s not going to change her mind. I believe her one thousand percent. I’m really sorry, but if she doesn’t want you at our wedding, I’m going to have to ask you to respect her wishes and not come.”

“It’s too bad that it’s come to that, but I honestly don’t have any choice.” How had things gotten so out of hand so quickly?

“Come on, Peter. Let’s go.”

Peter saluted me as he walked off the porch, but Max didn’t bother looking at me again.

After they drove away, I had to wonder who had initiated that little visit. Was Emily really expecting an apology from me after the way that she’d lied to me? She might just be overstressed because of the impending wedding, but that was no excuse to lie to me.

At least not unless she had something to hide.

As much as I hated it, there was nothing that I could do about it. I wasn’t about to lie to Emily and tell her that everything was all right between us.

I’d just have to accept the fact that our friendship might just be more collateral damage from one of my unofficial murder investigations.

I walked back inside, still feeling pretty lousy and wondering where Momma was. I could use a little motherly comfort about now, but she was nowhere to be found. I discovered why when I walked into the kitchen. There was a note there from her, written in her precise hand.

Suzanne,

I’m meeting some old friends in union   Square tonight, so you’re on your own for dinner. There are leftovers in the fridge!

Love You, Kiddo,

Momma

Great. She was deserting me in my time of need, just like everyone else. I was clearly in the mood to feel sorry for myself. I thought about calling Grace and asking her to join my little pity party when I suddenly knew who I wanted to call instead.

Jake had put me off long enough.

I dialed his number, fully expecting it to go straight to voicemail, but to my surprise, he answered immediately.

“Jake, what’s going on with you? We need to talk, and I mean right now.” I glanced at the clock in the kitchen before I added, “I can be there by nine, and I don’t want to hear any more excuses about why it’s not a good idea for me to drive three hours to talk to you face-to-face.”

“Suzanne, there’s no need for that,” he said in a heavy voice.