Blessed Is the Busybody by Richards Emilie

Author:Richards, Emilie [Richards, Emilie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery & Detective, General, Women Sleuths, Fiction
ISBN: 9780786282951
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2005-12-06T02:00:00+00:00

12

Gelsey had been shot. One bullet at close range to the side of her head. Funny how in times of stress you imagine things. When I heard where Gelsey had been found I had a vision of the ghostly dowager shaking her head over the damage to her beloved rug. “There is not a single dry cleaner in Emerald Springs who can be trusted with this!”

I was ready for a sleeping pill or a good stiff drink. One is as unavailable in my house as the other.

I settled for opening a bottle of cheap Spanish wine, and I poured Ed a good-sized glass, too. I clinked mine with his, although he was clearly not in the mood for a toast after two hours of interrogation and a stern warning that he was under suspicion for the murder.

“To Gelsey,” I said sincerely. “Gadfly, philanthropist, friend to many, enemy to some. But a woman who made a difference and lived life on her own terms.”

“It’s two A.M.,” Ed said. “Why are you still articulate?”

I was unaccountably sad. After weeks of paying close attention to all the havoc Gelsey could wreak, now I remembered all the good things she had done. Charities that were better off, friends she had supported through difficulties, an entire library of books for our religious education program, because she had believed that a well-read child was a child who could change the world.

“I have enough adrenaline in my system to keep me awake until Easter.” I sipped the wine, but my throat felt numb.

“I’ll sleep for both of us, then.”

“You must feel awful.”

He tried a sip, made a face, and set down the glass.

“Do you want to tell me how the night played out?” I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to know, but I thought he needed to tell someone besides Roussos.

“After we talked I went over to the church. I got out my notes and looked them over. In the end it was something Jennifer said that convinced me I had to tell Gelsey.”

“What was that?”

“That she hoped her mother burned in hell, but not before Jennifer got her payback.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m sure she’d had a number of skilled therapists over the years. I tried to get her to talk about the feelings under all that rage, but that was useless. So I asked her if she intended to injure Gelsey. If she did, of course, that was something I could report.”

“And she said?”

“No, but she hoped somebody else would.”

I didn’t know what to say. A car with a booming bass cruised past our house. I recognized “Time of Your Life,” an old Green Day hit about turning points and not being able to avoid them. I suspected a heavenly messenger.

Ed touched his chin to his collarbone, to work out kinks in his neck. “At the time, I thought she was saying that someday, some way, she hoped Gelsey got what was coming to her. But looking at that phrase tonight, I wondered if the words were a threat. Maybe Jennifer knew someone else was after Gelsey.

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