An Affair with Murder by Robert Sells

An Affair with Murder by Robert Sells

Author:Robert Sells [Sells, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-16T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty-six

The next morning, I got a call from John. Seeing his name on my cell phone, my heart pumped faster, but not for romantic reasons. Now I realized John could be the killer. I knew first hand he liked rough sex; just how far would he go with it? After the fourth ring, I answered with a subdued “Hello.”

“Look, I know you’re busy with your writing, but I thought you might need a break. My eleven o’clock just canceled. Care for an early lunch?”

He said all of this in what seemed to be one, long run-on sentence. Like he knew what the answer would be, but had to go through the ritual. I hesitated. I should have given him a curt “no,” but now, well, I could extract some information from him. Maybe I could find out what happened on the night of Angie’s murder. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Choose a place not crowded, but safe. “How about the Sunnyside Diner? Just coffee, though.”

“How about my place?”

No. No. No! Absolutely not! “Tempting though that is, I have a meeting at twelve in Coneroga,” I lied. Coneroga was a college town next to Granville. It would mean a short lunch, but that was all the time I needed or, indeed, wanted with this man.

“Tight schedule, no problem. We’ll have cappuccino at my place. Can’t get that anywhere in town.”

“No. Meet me at the Sunnyside Diner in Coneroga about 11:30.”

He paused. When he responded, it was with a flat, unemotional voice. “You sound like you’re afraid of meeting me alone.”

I gave what I hoped was just a good-natured laugh. “No. I really do have an appointment and I can only hang with you for about twenty minutes or so.” I let my voice lower slightly. “You and I both know there might be a possibility of a longer delay at your place.”

He chuckled and agreed to meet at the diner.

***

There was a lull in the casual conversation. Now or never. “Have you ever thought about the murder? I mean Angie’s?”

He looked down at his dessert plate and, with his fork, pushed around his last piece of blueberry pie. Why didn’t he look me in the eye, I wondered? I knew a guy who lied often and looked away when he told a lie. Was John going to tell the truth?

“Have I ever thought about the murder.” He blew out some air from his mouth and looked at me. “I don’t like to. But every now and again I do. Sometimes I wish …”

He was silent.

I filled in the long silence, hoping to keep the conversation going. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I stayed a bit longer with you guys. Maybe we might have gone to Denny’s, and called it a night and she’d still be alive.”

He chuckled, still grim. “No. Denny’s wasn’t Angie’s thing.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head like he was trying to flick off an annoying insect.



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