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Maybe Gran was right, Odelia suddenly thought. No one would give them the time of day willingly, attributing some of the blame that now squarely fell on Tex to Tex’s family. It was simple psychology, and Gran’s crudeness cut right through that newly established bias.

“Tell us about your fight with Jaqlyn,” said Gran. “We know you and him were having an affair so don’t even bother denying.”

“How do you…” Monica pressed her lips together. “Look, I didn’t have anything to do with Jaqlyn’s death, all right? So if you’re trying to find some scapegoat so you can get your dad off, it’s not going to work.”

“I’m not trying to find a scapegoat,” Odelia assured the woman. “I just want to know what happened, that’s all.”

Monica eyed her for a moment, then said,“Okay, fine. Jaqlyn and I were having an affair. Only for him it was just that, an affair. For me it was the beginning of something more. An actual relationship. I’d told him I wanted to divorce my husband and put what Jaqlyn and I had on a serious footing, and I expected the same from him. Only he was reluctant to tell his wife. So I said I’d tell her if he wasn’t going to. He didn’t like that.”

“Was that what the fight was about?” asked Gran.

Monica nodded.“I said this was his last chance. If he didn’t tell his wife today I was breaking up with him. He said he needed more time, and I said I’d waited long enough.”

“How long had the affair been going on?” asked Odelia.

“Two months. I thought he was serious, but obviously he wasn’t. At least not as serious as I was. So I broke up with him and walked out. I didn’t see him after that. And then suddenly you told us you’d found him… dead.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she took out a handkerchief to dab them away.

“You’re sure you didn’t take a swing at him yourself?” asked Gran.

Monica sat up straighter.“How can you even ask me that? Of course I didn’t take a swing at him. I loved him. I would never—”

“You loved him but he didn’t love you back. Is that how it was?”

“I think he did love me, in his own way.”

“Obviously he didn’t love you enough.”

“No, obviously not,” said Monica quietly. “Look, if you’re looking for a person to blame, why don’t you talk to Francine? She clearly knew about the affair, and was livid.”

“Where did you go after you left Jaqlyn?” asked Odelia, feeling the need to be thorough now that her dad’s future was at stake.

“I needed to cool off, so I went downstairs and sat in the living room for a while.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Yeah, plenty of people saw me. Waiters were passing to and from the kitchen all the time. Ask them. They can confirm I never moved from that spot until I felt composed enough to walk out and face the world again.”

“She sounded plausible,” said Gran as they left Monica and went in search of Francine Jones. “I don’t think she did it.”

“It’ll be easy enough to verify her alibi,” said Odelia. “Plenty of waitstaff were around.”

They found Francine in front of the house, staring at the activity of cops and forensic people engaged in collecting evidence. A tent had been placed around Odelia’s dad’s car, which was now officially a crime scene.

“Francine, hi,” said Odelia.

“Oh, God,” said Francine in a low voice. She seemed as unhappy to see them as their other correspondents.

“Can we ask you a couple of questions?”

“No, you can’t,” said Francine brusquely. “You’re not cops, and I don’t want to talk to the daughter of the man who killed my husband,” she snapped, and made to walk away.

But Gran grabbed her unceremoniously by the arm and said,“Not so fast, missy. First off, Tex didn’t kill anyone—he’s as much the victim here as your husband. And secondly, if I were a betting woman I’d pay good odds that you’re the one who hit your husband over the head.”

Francine uttered a startled yelp and tried to wrench her arm free. In vain. Vesta might look like a little old lady, but she had a surprisingly strong grip, and her bony fingers now dug deeply into the flesh of the widow’s arm.

“Let go of me, you horrible woman!” Francine cried.

“Not before you tell me about the affair your husband was having with Monica Chanting. When did you find out—and don’t lie to me.”

“I–I’ve known for weeks,” said Francine finally, and Gran let go. She rubbed the tender spot. “Jaqlyn left his phone at home one morning, and I noticed right away it wasn’t his usual one. I didn’t even know he’d gotten a second phone. When it started beeping with messages I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peek. They were all WhatsApp messages from that horrible woman.”

“And I’ll bet she wasn’t the first one either.”

Francine cast down her eyes.“No, she wasn’t. Jaqlyn has always had trouble with fidelity, but I still loved him. He… he promised me the last time it happened that I was the only one for him. That these other women meant nothing. And I believed him.”

“But this time was different.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I think so. He seemed more serious. More invested in the relationship. And it lasted much longer than his usual flings.”