I did believe it, all too easily. “Do you know how the rumor started that you and Dale were separated?”
She heaved a tremendous sigh. “It got blown all out of proportion. You’d think people would have better things to do than talk about other people, but they don’t. If we could harness the power of gossip, we’d have energy enough to light the world.”
That was probably true, but I didn’t want her to get off topic. “What was blown out of proportion?”
“Oh, it was just one of those silly things that happen in a marriage,” she said airily. “It was nothing, and he was back in the house in less than a week.”
“He moved out?”
“Of course he didn’t. All he packed was a suitcase. You can’t move out on a single suitcase.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but let it go. “What had you been fighting about?”
She hesitated. “You know, I don’t remember. I really don’t. Isn’t that funny? You’d think I’d remember our last big fight. But we don’t get to pick what we remember, do we?”
We did not, and more than once I’d wished to forget certain things that were ingrained into my psyche. Being picked last for a kickball team in elementary school, for one. For another, tripping on the top step of the stage as I walked through high school graduation and falling flat on my face in front of hundreds of people. Still, I’d survived both episodes and the experiences had made me a more compassionate person. Or so I hoped.
“Do you know where he stayed for that week?” I asked.
“With Mia,” she said, then laughed. “Maybe that’s why Dale came back so fast this time. He was tired of eating Mia’s cooking. Boiling water is about as much as she can do.”
I latched on to the first part of what she’d said. “This wasn’t the first time Dale left for a few days?”
“Well, I didn’t keep score.” Carmen sniffed. “Sometimes it was Dale and sometimes it was me. Every couple needs time away from each other.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, either. My parents had slept in the same bed every night of their marriage except for the hospital stays when my brother and I had been born. But every marriage was different, and if time apart was what had helped keep the Lacombes’ union intact, who was I to say it wasn’t a successful marriage?
“What do you think, Minnie?” Carmen asked. “Do you think that Raab woman killed my husband? I wouldn’t put it past her, she’s just a ball of hate.”
The phrase was an odd one to apply to a human being, but somehow it was apt. “She did come across as a negative person,” I said. “But here’s the thing. If she was angry enough at Dale to kill him, it seems as if she would have done it when the lawsuit was under way. Why would she do it now, when everything has been resolved?”
“The legal issues might be over,” Carmen said, “but there are things that the suit didn’t settle. The woman only had to pay us seventy cents for every dollar we were owed. Where’s the justice in that?”
Daphne’s side of the story was different, of course. She’d told me she’d had to pay another contractor to finish her house because Dale never came back to finish the interior trim work and the final coats of paint, inside and out. If I asked Carmen for details, which I wasn’t about to do, I was sure she would say that Dale would have eventually gone back to finish Daphne’s job, but she had been too impatient.
Eddie bumped my elbow with his head and I started petting his sleek coat.
Where was the justice? The judge in the lawsuit had probably had a better grasp on it than anyone involved, and it was time to move the conversation on. “I’ve heard that your husband had a number of employees that he didn’t get along with very well. Do you think any of them could have killed Dale?”
“The police asked me the same thing,” Carmen said, “and I don’t know why people are saying that. Dale was a great boss. Sure, he had turnover, but this is the construction business. It’s hard work and lots of people can’t handle it. That’s all Dale wanted, was his guys to put in a good day of work. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
“Of course not,” I said in as soothing a tone as I could, because I could hear the tense emotion in her question. She needed to believe that her husband had been a good man. That was understandable. But as I turned the conversation to the arrangements for a memorial service, my thoughts veered in another direction.
Carmen was an emotional woman who clearly had control issues. Could I envision her, in a fit of anger, going after Daphne Raab with the intent to maim and wound?
Yep.
And I was starting to see a scenario in which she had killed her husband.
Chapter 11
The next morning I woke up slowly. There was absolutely no need for me to get out of bed before noon, and I was seriously considering taking advantage of the opportunity. I was set to meet Aunt Frances and Otto for lunch at 1 p.m., but other than that, I had no obligations and nothing I absolutely had to do, so—
“Mrr.”
I looked over at my cat. It wasn’t far to look, because he was snuggled up inside the crook of my elbow, with his back half on the bed and his front half draped over my arm. He was staring at me with wide-open eyes and an expression that meant he was trying to tell me something.
“What do you want?” I asked. “Tell me and I will fulfill your every wish.”
He lifted his chin the slightest bit. “Mrr!”
“Sorry, I don’t understand. I’ll just have to guess.” I took my hand out from under the covers and patted the top of his fuzzy head. “Is this what you want? A little attention?”
“Mrr,” he said.
Pats might not have been what he wanted, but he was purring, so he obviously wasn’t rejecting them. I kept patting and he kept purring, which kept me from rolling over and looking at the clock. “What time do you think it is?” The light coming in the window was gray, but that could mean it was just before dawn or that the sky was thick with clouds. It was unlikely I’d slept through to morning’s double digits, but it had happened before after a late night of reading.
And I had read late. Somewhere on the floor was a copy of Margery Allingham’s Black Plumes, a book I’d picked up at the used bookstore. For some reason I now couldn’t remember, I’d decided to start reading it after dinner the night before and hadn’t managed to put it down until I’d finished.
Eddie, however, remained silent on the time question. “Well, if you’re not going to guess,” I said, “I’m going to have to play all by myself. Let’s see, I think it’s—”
My thought was interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I reached out, dislodging a protesting Eddie in the process, looked at the screen, and took the call.
“Hey, Leese. What’s up?” I swung my stockinged feet to the floor and glanced at the clock. Not quite ten, which to me, if not my mother, was a perfectly acceptable hour to get up on a Sunday morning.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nope.” I stood. “Been up and out of bed for some time now.”
“Great. I just got off the phone with Carmen.”
“Right. About that.” Last night I’d been so taken up with my new suspicions about Leese’s stepmother that I’d decided I wouldn’t call my friend until I’d worked it all through in my head. “I’d planned on talking to you, but . . .” But what? I hadn’t left myself anywhere to go with that sentence.
Leese laughed. “But Carmen was being Carmen and you didn’t feel you could take any more Lacombes in a twenty-four-hour period? I know the feeling. Believe me.”
Though I felt a little ashamed of myself for doing so, I didn’t contradict her. “What did Carmen tell you?”