Secrets in a Still Life by Kari Ganske (mobi ebook reader .txt) 📕

panic bubbling under the surface threatened in earnest to spill over. I swallowed it down, reminding myself that I was, in fact, innocent. And this was just questioning. If I told the truth, everything would be fine.

Although that didn't work too well with my career.

"Have a seat, Ms. Lightwood," Chief Duncan said, gesturing to a chair on the far end of the table. He took the seat by the door. A thin manila folder and a voice recorder lay on the metal table between them. Given the non-digital fingerprints, I was a little surprised it wasn't a cassette tape. Did they still sell those things?

Chief Duncan messed around with the recorder for a second until a little red light flashed on. "I'm going to record this interview." Not a question. "This is Chief Clive Duncan interviewing Alex Lightwood in regard to Melissa Poledark Vandenburg's murder." He stated the date and time, then placed the recorder back on the table between us.

"What can I help you with?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded calmer than I felt.

"I'd like to go over your timeline from the day of the murder." He opened the folder and made a show of reading the top sheet of paper. I waited for a question. None came. Instead, he took a pen and pad of paper out of his jacket pocket, then looked at me expectantly.

"Did you have a question, Chief?" I asked as politely as I could muster.

"Your timeline. Take me through your day. Be as specific as possible," he said. I opened my mouth to speak, but he added, "And remember, we already have statements from several other people."

I nodded. "I have nothing to hide. I woke up at my parents' house, and we had breakfast."

"What did you eat?" he asked.

"How is that relevant?"

"Answer the question, Ms. Lightwood." He tapped his pen impatiently on his pad.

I bit my cheek to keep from rolling my eyes but complied. "I had cereal—Cheerios, I think. My father drank cold coffee. And my mother had an apple cinnamon muffin."

"Continue," he said. I told him about my mother's frustration with all the calls, which prompted her making the hair appointment.

"So, you're claiming your mother, Constance Lightwood, suggested and then made the appointment?" the chief asked, eyebrow raised.

"That's what happened," I confirmed.

"But you picked the salon." Not a question.

"No. The whole thing was my mother's idea."

After a long scrutinizing gaze, he asked, "What time did you leave the house?"

"About eleven o'clock. We went straight to the salon."

"Which salon?"

I gave him an incredulous look. He knew which salon. I'd already told him I'd gotten my hair done at Missy K's the morning of the murder. Not only that, but Missy K's was the only real salon in town unless you counted Patti's Pizzazz and Pizza. But no one did. Patti ran a little side hustle out of her basement where you could get an 80s style perm or a slice of pepperoni. Those were your only options.

"Oblige me for the record," Chief Duncan said.

"It was Missy K's at the time. I think Kelly recently renamed it Shear-lock Combs," I said.

"That was the victim, Missy Vandenburg's, salon at the time?"

"Yes. But I didn't know that before we got there. Kelly told me about their business partnership while she cut my hair."

"How long were you there?"

"I guess about an hour and a half? I think we got back to the house a little after one."

"Anything else happen while you were there?" he asked.

"Missy did come in while we were there. We hadn't seen each other since high school. She told me about her husband and kids, then basically ignored me," I explained. Since Kelly didn't think the unpleasantries exchanged between me and Missy were a big deal, I felt no need to mention them now. If Chief Duncan asked me directly, I'd respond, but no more volunteering information that put me in a negative light. Not with Chief Duncan.

"Nothing else you want to mention?" he prompted. "Just got your hair cut and were on your way?"

"That's about it," I said. "Exactly like I told you before."

He slammed his hand on the table and then pointed a pudgy finger in my face. I recoiled immediately, almost tipping backward off my chair.

"Ah-ha! Your first lie," he bellowed triumphantly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 26

 

 

 

"I didn't lie," I lied. Technically, it was an omission.

"Witnesses testified that you and Missy had a torrid fight at the salon that day. One of the other patrons said she was surprised you two didn't start clawing each other’s eyes out."

"First of all, I wouldn't call it a fight, and second, it definitely wasn't torrid. She insulted me, like she used to do in high school, and I told her to grow up. The end."

"Witnesses said you threatened her. Then she turned up dead hours later."

"I didn't threaten her. She threatened me with interfering in my court case," I clarified, my anger amplifying to match his.

"So you did have a reason to be angry." He looked like a cat that finally caught the canary.

I crossed my arms and clamped my mouth shut. I'd already said too much and didn't trust myself any further. From here on out, call me Fort Knox.

"Fine," Chief Duncan said after he realized I wasn't going to confirm or deny. "Finish telling me about your day. What did you do when you left the salon?"

Darn, an actual question. "I went back to my parents' house. We had a late lunch, and my mother complained about small-town gossips. Then around four I went for a walk by the reservoir to take some pictures."

"Four o'clock. Did anyone see you?" he said, making a note in his pad.

I shrugged. "I noticed