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Drizzled with Death(68)

By:Jessie Crockett


“So was this brought on by the stress of Alanza raising a ruckus next door to your place?” Felicia honked her nose delicately.

“What else would it be about?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been in your situation.” I thought briefly about my mother and Lowell. What they were doing felt like they were betraying my father and he wasn’t even part of the picture anymore. How could anyone do something like that to someone who was still around to be hurt by it?

“It was all Alanza’s fault. For weeks all Roland could talk about was how everything we had worked for was being destroyed.”

“He did seem bitter about it all.”

“You don’t know the half of it. It was the first thing he said every morning, the last thing he said each night, and the only topic of conversation in the hours in between.”

“I can understand how you would be tempted to do something rash.”

“Yes, it was very unpleasant but mostly I was worried about Roland and his heart condition. I spent all my time monitoring him for signs of a stroke. It felt like living with a time bomb.” Now I was confused. It sounded like she could easily have had reason to do away with Alanza, but how did a secret rendezvous with another man help keep her husband from popping something in his brain? It sounded like she was trying to do away with him, too.

“Having an affair with Jim seems like a weird way to keep Roland from keeling over.” If I was butting my nose in, I might as well go all the way.

“An affair? With Jim?” Felicia’s tears turned off like the city was repairing the water main, and her shoulders began shaking even harder, but this time she was laughing.

“You did say you met with him at Loon Lodge and Roland didn’t know.” I felt my cheeks flushing. It wasn’t as if I wanted to discuss Felicia’s sex life. Or anyone else’s for that matter.

“I met him in the coffee shop to talk about putting our place on the market.” That explained it. Jim owned the most respected real estate brokerage in town and specialized in antique and choice properties.

“Without talking to Roland?”

“I wanted to run it past Jim first. If there wasn’t enough value left in our property, then I wasn’t going to mention the idea to him. If there was enough to sell up and put a hefty deposit down on another place, I was going to risk telling him.”

“It doesn’t seem like you told him since when I was here getting the pickles, he still seemed to think you had been at the quilting group.”

“Jim said with the real estate market the way it is and the destruction Alanza was planning on Bett’s Knob, we would be lucky to recoup our initial investment. There wouldn’t have been enough money to start over. We would be lucky to pay off the remaining mortgage once Jim took his commission.”

“So I guess it was lucky for you that Alanza died when she did.”

“It certainly was. I couldn’t believe our good fortune.” She made it sound so unconnected with her own actions. But was it really? And did Roland really not know where she had been, or was he just playing a part that provided both of them with alibis? And even if she were telling the truth, there would still have been time for her to slip into the grange hall and poison the syrup. She’d have even more reason than ever to do so.

“Roland looks better, too.”

“Oh, he is. Now he’s talking about new ways to plant the garden to distract people from the view of the storage facility and even adding some things like package deals for sugar-making weekends, etc. . . . He wanted to talk with you about it if you can ever reopen with all that’s been going on.” Felicia gave me a warm smile. It seemed that unburdening herself agreed with her. With so much new information heaped on my shoulders, why did I feel like I knew even less for sure than when I first started questioning her? Maybe talking with her husband about his own lies would be more enlightening.

• • •

Roland stood in the drizzle poking at a smoldering pile of brush with a long green stick. The smoky wood smell rose up and hovered in the air, an autumnal country smell if ever there was one. My stomach clenched at the idea of confronting Roland about his lie, but there was no way I was losing my business because I had been taught to respect my elders at all costs. I was sure Grandma would understand.

He looked up at me as my feet came to a stop a little distance from him. His dark canvas jacket was smeared with soot and darkened in patches by the damp. I caught sight of someone’s outline in the kitchen window and waved. Even if Roland were a crazed poisoner, would he really do away with me right in front of his witness? I hoped she was squeamish or religious or something and he wouldn’t dream of upsetting her. I drew a deep breath and broached the topic. In a roundabout way. I had no desire to actually accuse him of lying. Especially if he was hiding the fact he committed a murder.