Ripped Apart by Jeanne Glidewell

Author:Jeanne Glidewell [Glidewell, Jeanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947833449
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2020-09-07T22:00:00+00:00

“Hello again, Suzanna!” I said cheerfully as she opened her front door just enough to peer out through the gap. I got the sense she was already trying to conjure up an excuse why she couldn’t visit with me: a doctor’s appointment in Corpus; bacon frying on the stove; food poisoning from a bad mussel that had her on the john every couple of minutes; or even not wanting to miss Final Jeopardy, which was about to air any second. Before she could spit her chosen excuse out, I said, “Did you hear they’ve determined your neighbor’s death might actually have been a homicide?”

“Oh, my God!” It’s probably a good thing Suzanna didn’t have food poisoning or she’d likely have soiled her panties right then. The look on her face was one of pure shock. She grabbed my arm and nearly yanked me into her home before slamming the door shut. “Are you fricking serious?”

“Yes. Very.”

“You’re telling me the body’s been found?”

I was surprised by how alarmed the woman appeared that her last question didn’t register with me. Instead of replying to it, I began to ramble. “I was present when the medical examiner, Dr. Beatty, did the preliminary examination of the body. Actually, my husband told me what he said because I was being examined by one of the EMT’s who’d just arrived on the scene. As you know, I was the one who discovered the body and ended up passing out, and you can just imagine―”

“What did he say?” Suzanna asked impatiently.

“Who?”

“The medical examiner!” She spat out, almost angrily.

“Oh, well,” I began, now a little perturbed myself, “he said he found several indications that the death was a homicide and not suicide, as first suspected.”

“Huh?” Suzanna appeared stunned. “Suicide? What are you talking about?”

“Well, naturally, that was the most obvious cause of death at first sight. Why on earth would they suspect anything else when the body was hanging from a rope?”

“Hanging from a rope?” Suzanna plunked herself down in a recliner as if her legs would no longer support her. I followed suit, setting down in the matching recliner across from her. I watched as she took a deep sigh of relief; the kind you take when you realize the furry blob your cat walked into the kitchen with was a cat toy rather than a real rat. I listened as Suzanna repeated herself. “Hanging from a rope? You’re talking about Barlow, right?”

“Oh, dear!” I exclaimed. “I can see why you were confused. You thought I was talking about Reilly.”

Suzanna nodded and then flashed me the most inappropriate smile I’d ever seen. I’d have thought my distressing news deserved a look of sadness, or an expression of alarm, not a delighted grin as though she’d just won a thousand bucks on a scratch-off ticket she'd purchased at the local gas station. When she was finally able to stop smiling and feign concern for her late neighbor, she asked, “I spent most of yesterday in Corpus. I hadn’t heard what the coroner determined.

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