Читаем Murder of a Creped Suzette полностью

Brandy, the Leofantis’ golden retriever, stood by Olive’s side. The canine’s shiny fur lay in perfect silken order.

“No, Aunt Olive. We wanted to see you.” Skye reached down and stroked Brandy’s head. “Sorry for dropping in, but it was important to speak to you when Uncle Dante wasn’t here.”

“Why is that?” Olive’s expression was uncertain, but she motioned them inside. “Well, no matter—you’re always welcome to come by.”

“Thank you.” Skye felt terrible that they were about to accuse this sweet woman of adultery, but they had to check out anyone who had a motive to kill Suzette.

As Olive led them toward the kitchen, she said, “I hope you don’t mind if we sit in here. I’m in the middle of making dinner.”

“Great.” Wally’s smile was charming. “I always say the heart of a home is the kitchen.”

Brandy followed them, and when Skye took a seat at the table, the dog lay at her feet. She felt comforted by the animal’s presence. While Olive bustled around pouring them coffee, Skye gazed at the decor. Unlike the rest of the house, which was done in brocade and velvet, with stunning floral arrangements and beautifully framed art, the sunny yellow kitchen was cozy rather than elegant. Chintz curtains, an obviously well-used oak table and chairs, and whimsical prints on the wall all added to the warmth.

Olive placed a tray of cookies between Skye and Wally and sat down. The three of them chatted about the weather and the family for a while.

Finally, Olive glanced at the wall clock and said, “Dante will be home in twenty minutes. What did you need to talk to me about?”

Skye took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to have to bring this up, but we recently learned that many, many years ago you knew Suzette Neal’s father.” Skye paused, then said as gently as she could, “In fact, we understand that you and he were very close.”

“We were friends.” Olive stared down at her cup.

“From what we’ve been told, you were much more than friends.” Skye bit her lip. This was even harder than she’d thought it would be. “You had an affair with him. Didn’t you?”

“No. That’s ridiculous.” Olive’s fair skin became nearly translucent. “Who told you that?”

“The Neals’ cleaning lady saw you and Quentin in your car.” Skye covered her aunt’s hand with her own. “We aren’t here to judge you, but we need to know what happened back then and if it has anything to do with Suzette’s murder.”

“I was probably just giving him a ride home from choir practice.” Olive tried to smile, but her lips were trembling. “As I recall, they only had one car, and he often walked to the church so his wife could use it.”

“The cleaning lady saw you kissing him, and not on the cheek.” Skye tightened her grip on Olive’s fingers.

“She must have been mistaken.” Olive shook her head. “It was so long ago, maybe she misremembered.”

“The neighbor across the street saw you as well.” Skye knew she couldn’t let her aunt pretend the affair had never happened. “We don’t intend to share this information with Dante, or anyone else, unless it’s pertinent to Suzette’s murder.”

The ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room marked off the seconds until Olive spoke, tears in her eyes. “I loved him so much.” This time her smile was sincere and tremulous. “He was such a wonderful man. He made me feel beautiful and smart and happy.”

“Unlike Dante?” Skye murmured.

Olive nodded. “I knew what we were doing was wrong, and I never asked him to leave his family for me, but I just wanted something sweet in my life.” Olive wiped a tear from her cheek. “Even if it was only for a little while.”

“I understand. And I wouldn’t bring this up except that the neighbor who saw you kissing Quentin in the car also saw you at his house the day his wife died. In fact, just before the ambulance arrived.”

If possible, Olive’s face paled even more. She opened her mouth, but at first no words came out. After a few seconds, she said, “It really was an accident.”

“Yes,” Skye encouraged. “Tell us what happened.”

“Paulette called me and asked me to come over.” Olive gazed over Skye’s head as if looking into the past. “She said it was about a committee we were both on, but as soon as I got there she started yelling at me about the affair.”

“Then what?” Skye asked softly.

“I told her I would end it and I never meant to hurt her or her family, but she didn’t believe me.” Olive’s voice was barely audible. “I tried to explain that I was sorry, that I had just wanted a little bit of kindness and warmth, but she lunged at me. I leaped aside—I’d trained to be a ballet dancer before I married Dante—but Paulette couldn’t stop her momentum. She fell and hit her head on the corner of a marble-topped table. I couldn’t get her to wake up and there was so much blood.”

“Can you show us where all this happened?” Skye pulled the flyer with the house plan out of her tote and laid it in front of her aunt.

Olive pointed to a tiny foyer.

“Did you call an ambulance?” Skye asked.

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