The Lies that Bind Read Free Page B

chintz. Ivy in a brass pot sat on the coffee table. The drapes were drawn to keep out the long and dusty view. It was the kind of living room they do well back East where the view is limited to a lawn and the trees at the end of it, ladylike and formal, expensive but comfortable. Martha seemed to be one of those people who take the East with them wherever they go. She offered me a cup of tea.
    â€œDo you have any Red Zinger?” I asked.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œNever mind,” I said. “Can I use your phone?”
    â€œYes.”
    While she made her tea, I called the office to tell my secretary, Anna, what she already knew, that I’d missed my nine o’clock.
    Martha brought the teapot into the living room, sat on the sofa and poured the tea into a china cup translucent enough to see her fingers through. She took one spoon of sugar, one slice of lemon.
    I took out my yellow legal pad and put it in my lap. “All right,” I said. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
    â€œWhen I left the AWC meeting on Siringo at ten, it was pouring rain. It was ten-fifteen when I got home. After I hit the speed bump, I parked, came inside and went to bed. I fell asleep and woke up when the police rang the doorbell.”
    â€œWhat time was that?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’d been asleep, but I don’t know for how long. It seemed like a bad dream. Men in uniform were standing at my door, telling me that girl was dead and it was my fault. They made me go outside in the rain and look at the body. I hadn’t seen Justine for years, but I recognized her.”
    â€œDid you identify her for the police?”
    â€œ No. They already knew who she was; they found her identification inside her car.”
    â€œWhy did they ask you to look at the body?”
    â€œI think they were trying to frighten me into making a confession.” Martha took a sip of her tea. “They also showed me my car, with the dents in the bumper and the hood.”
    â€œCan you describe Justine for me?”
    â€œYes. Her body was crushed, and she was lying flat on her back. Her eyes … her eyes were open.”
    â€œWas there much blood?”
    â€œNo; the rain had washed it away.” She put her cup down. “After they finished examining the body and the scene, the police asked me if they could come inside and look around.”
    â€œYou let them?”
    â€œYes.” Another mistake that could have been avoided if she’d called me sooner. An attorney would have made the police get a search warrant. “I had nothing to hide,” Martha said.
    â€œWhat did they look at?”
    â€œMy typewriter. The police found a note in Justine’s pocket inside a sealed envelope. They put it in a plastic bag, showed it to me and accused me of typing it on my typewriter. It was obvious that the type didn’t match, but they took a sample from my Selectric anyway.”
    â€œWhat did the note say?”
    â€œâ€˜I knew this was going to happen, but I couldn’t prevent it.’”
    That was the kind of message that sent the desert lizard racing down my spine. “Do you have any idea who would have given Justine a note like that?”
    Her eyes met mine without a flicker. “No. After the police left, I called Whit and Cindy and they came over.”
    â€œThey came over here?” Phoenix was almost five hundred miles away, the last time I’d checked.
    â€œThey’re living here now, in a house I own at Los Verdes Meadows, the golf course development on—”
    â€œI know where it is. When did they move to Albuquerque?”
    â€œAbout a month ago. Whit is in real estate, and business has not been good in Arizona. They’d been out to dinner, and they were in bed when I called. They got up anyway and came over. It was suggested that I call you, but it was the middle of the night by then. In the morning no one answered at your office and