Bubble Chum by Wendy Meadows

Author:Wendy Meadows [Meadows, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Majestic Owl Publishing LLC
Published: 2020-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

9

Stacy drops me off in front of the candy store. I ought to go to Sabrina’s and finish my gingerbread houses, but at that moment, I spot David’s cruiser parked in front of the used bookstore. He stands by the driver’s door peering at his phone.

On an impulse, I trot across the street and walk up to him. He lowers his phone and nods. “Good morning.”

“Hey, do you mind if I talk to you for a sec?” I ask.

He puts his phone in his pocket. “Go ahead.”

“I just had a few words with Marvin at the Overlook.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he tells me. “You shouldn’t be investigating this murder.”

“How can I not investigate it?” I return. “You can’t expect me to just sit back and let you put me away for murder without trying to clear my name.”

He puffs out his cheeks. “For the love of God, Margaret, I am not trying to put you away for murder.”

“What do you call it?” I fire back. “You suspect me.”

“I call it doing my job, Margaret. Jesus, do you think I enjoy this?”

“Then why don’t you work with me to get this case solved instead of trying to sideline me all the time?” I ask. “You know we could solve it a lot faster working together.”

He clenches his teeth and shakes his head. “I can’t. I have to do this by the book.”

“Whatever. I don’t. Marvin convinced Kevin to talk to me, too, and he says it was Mrs. Tripp who spotted me coming out of her room. Did you know that?”

His eyes pierce me to the bone. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t know that.”

“Don’t you see what this means?” I rush getting the words out. “She wasn’t in New York at all. For one thing, she saw a woman she didn’t know coming out of her own hotel room. Either she knew her husband wasn’t in the room, in which case the normal response would have been to alert security and get the woman arrested for breaking and entering, or she didn’t know her husband was out, in which case the normal response would have been outrage that her husband was cheating on her. Instead, this woman goes to the hotel clerk and blabs that she just saw the great Margaret Nichols, Private Investigator extraordinaire. Something doesn’t add up.”

He glares at me under heavy brows. “What are you saying I should do about it?”

I hold out both hands, but I can’t stop them shaking. I have to convince him while I have his attention. “Listen to me. She says she identified me from a picture in the paper. If that’s true, she may have made a mistake and gotten me confused with someone else—or rather, gotten someone else confused with me. Marvin agreed to let me interview her, but I think we can use the opportunity to prove she never saw me coming out of her room. If I walked up to her out of the blue, she wouldn’t be able to recognize me.

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