Read Online A Motor for Murder (Veronica Margreve Mysteries Book 1) by Valerie Murmel - Free Book Online Page B

learned from Stan, so I got out the detective’s card, dialed his number and left him what I hoped was a sufficiently detailed message about my talk with Stan.

 
    10 
    George’s body was released for burial, and the funeral was set for Wednesday afternoon. I didn’t go because I didn't know him at all, so I would not feel comfortable being there as mourner or friend of the family; and it didn't feel appropriate to go there in my “investigative” capacity and ask people questions afterwards. Moreover, I had expected George’s parents to be there, and I didn’t want to intrude on their grief. Instead, I drove to Rita’s house that evening.
     
    Teresa walked out to her silver Lexus, dressed in a dark-blue belted trench coat, a scarf and some architectural boots (that made me think of looking at Nordstrom or Saks for a similar pair), carrying a soft leather bag with some paper folders. After she opened the car door, she turned and waved to Rita standing on the threshold. Rita watched her drive away, and then gestured for me to pull up in my car and come in.
     
    I came to the door and gave her a hug. Up close, she looked tired and white around the eyes.
    “How are you holding up?”
    She shrugged and rubbed her temples.
    “The ceremony was very nice. George would have liked it.”
    I nodded.
    “How about the rest of your day?”
    She shook her head to indicate where Teresa just drove off. “We’ve been discussing the situation so far.” she said. “It has not been a picnic”.
    I made what I hoped were encouraging noises.
    “Do you want anything?” She asked as we walked into the kitchen.
    I requested a cup of decaffeinated tea, and we moved to the living room to talk.
     
    I didn’t realize myself until that conversation that my thinking had shifted from finding the killer to trying to establish that Rita didn’t do it. In any case, I reasoned, if Rita was the murderer, it sounded like the police had that angle pretty well covered. I didn’t like thinking of a friend of mine as a murderer anyway. I made up my mind to look for other possible suspects that may have been ignored up to now. I thought back to the people I met at the party, and the conversations I had with them.
    “You don’t have an alibi, correct? When… it occurred…, were there any people around that saw you? Maybe saw you running through the house?”
    She shook her head.
    “Any cell-phone calls or texts around that time? Emails? Anything with a timestamp on it?”
    “No, I was in the master bathroom upstairs.” The master suite was down the hall from George’s office, and had its balcony next to the office's windows. “I came out of the bathroom and heard the noise outside. And I looked out and  saw...” She swallowed hard. I reached over and put my arms around her again.
    We sat like that for a moment, then Rita shifted position.
    “It’s funny that you mentioned timestamps – Roger was reading some internet car forum, and he told me that he loaded the page about 5 minutes before... George fell.”
    That was good to know, if we ever would need to establish Roger’s alibi. I wanted to ask about what Vinay had mentioned, about the remodel being completed very recently.
    “Your house renovation – it was fairly complex, right?”
    “Yeah. The swimming pool permits in particular were a pain.”
    “Were any of the contractors and designers at the party, besides Kevin Moody?”
    “No. We invited our architect, but he couldn’t make it. We didn’t have an interior designer, that was just me.”
    “What about Kevin?”
    She thought, then shuddered. “Imagining your remodeler as a murderer makes it seem so terrifying somehow. I mean, he had complete access to the house for months!”
    “Would he have a motive? Did you have any sort of dispute?”
    “Well, we had an argument a month or so earlier, about the pool. George even threatened to sue. But we’ve patched it up – no pun intended.”
    “I see”. I learned from