“Heard what?” She scooped up the last bite of omelet and popped it into her mouth.
“Henrietta. I’m not sure how to break this to you in any delicate way, so I’ll just tell you straight out. Cordelia is dead.”
“What!” She shoved her plate away and stared at me, her face going a dangerous shade of red. “Is this a joke? What are you saying?”
“No, I’m not joking. You said yourself everyone told you I’m honest, and I certainly wouldn’t lie about something like this. Cordelia died last night.”
“How?” She slammed her fist on the table, making the dishes jump. “Tell me right now.”
Suddenly, I realized that blurting out this revelation might not have been the smartest move. This woman was unbalanced, at best, and dangerous or even deadly, at worst. In fact, all of this might be an act.
She might be the murderer.
I grabbed her empty plate and hopped up to put it in the sink, moving closer to the wooden block that held my kitchen knives under the guise of cleaning up.
Just in case.
Henrietta shoved her chair back and stood, breathing hard, her face still red. “You tell me right now!”
I slid the butcher knife out of the block and held it out in front of me, moving to the other side of the table. “No offense, and I certainly don’t plan to stab you, but I’m afraid of you and afraid of how you might react when I tell you this.”
She put one hand on her purse, but then shook her head and put her hands behind her back. “I won’t hurt you, Tess. Just tell me.”
“Somebody murdered her. The killer shot her in Susan’s house, inside a locked room, and then somehow disappeared with the murder weapon. The entire sheriff’s department is on the case, so if you know anything …” I left it hanging in case my smooth hint convinced her to confess.
She stumbled back a couple of steps, looking dazed. “Murdered? But … that can’t be true. Now I’ll never get my revenge,” she wailed. “I can’t believe I was at Disney when my arch-nemesis was getting herself killed!”
“Disney? You have an alibi?” I didn’t know what to say about the arch-nemesis stuff.
She blinked hard several times, and I realized to my utter shock that there were tears in her eyes.
“It’s the weirdest thing,” she said, so quietly that I didn’t know if she meant for me to hear it. “I’ve spent so long focused on Cordelia and revenge that now I have a giant hole inside me. What will I live for now?”
“Well—”
“I wasn’t asking you,” she snapped, but then she blew out a breath. “Okay. Okay. Thank you again for the breakfast, Tess. And for the news, unwelcome though it was. I’ll be on my way, and I doubt you’ll see me again.”
“The sheriff may want to talk to you about all this,” I ventured.
She barked out a laugh. “I just bet she does. Tell her good luck with that. And you can tell Cordelia’s awful son that I’ll be coming for my money. If he didn’t have it before, I’m sure he will now. Or at least know how to get it. I need to talk to Donald.”
“Maybe you could just call Aloysius. I’m not planning to talk to him again, if I can help it. And who is Donald?”
But she didn’t hear me. She was muttering to herself and gathering her things. She started down the hall and then stopped and looked back at me.
“Thanks again, Tess. It has been a long time since anybody cooked me a homemade breakfast. No matter what else happens, I’ll remember and appreciate this.” She smiled—a genuine smile—and I could see that she must have been a lovely woman before everything made her so nuts.
“You’re welcome.” I stayed in the kitchen and watched her walk down the hall and out the door. Then I raced over and locked it behind her, looking out my window while she drove away before I picked up my phone.
When Susan answered, I realized I didn’t really know what to say.
“Tess?”
“Good morning. You’ll never guess who came to breakfast.”
20
Tess
