Fiona Silk Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Mary Jane Maffini
time when he hassled me on the road. The next time I saw him, the Escalade was upside down in the ravine.”
“Did you pursue him on the highway?”
“In the Skylark? That would be funny if it wasn’t so...”
“Did you?”
“Of course not.”
He leaned forward. The man gives new meaning to the word menace. And he’s supposed to be a good guy. “So, let’s see if I understand. You were following him, and...”
“Well, actually, let me correct you there. He was preceding me. He passed me just before Exit 13 and...”
“Yeah, okay. You made that point. So he was ahead, and you were behind and then...?”
“Quite far ahead. He must have been doing one-fifty. Maybe more.”
“And you were doing?”
“The speed limit. Probably less.”
“Okay. That’s not possible, is it? It takes awhile for the first responders to get there. It took a few minutes to close the road. You would have been there minutes afterwards. Not a half hour later.”
I stared at him, perplexed. I’m not so good with time and space calculations at the best of times. “I was a bit shaken up. I got off at exit 13 and drove back on the 105 to get some chocolate Kahlua cake at Suki’s.”
“You never mentioned that.”
“Why would I mention it?” I squeaked. “I went to get a slice of cake and some dog treats. It never occurred to me that it was important, if it is, which I doubt.”
Tolstoy’s tail tapped on the floor.
“And you can prove that?”
“Prove it?”
He watched me wordlessly.
My voice went up an octave or so. “There was a person I knew very very very slightly who acted like a jerk, even though I didn’t recognize him. He got in an accident, probably because he continued to act like a jerk. I came along afterwards and was stopped by the police officer. I told the officer about the earlier incident, and that’s all there was to it. It was a horrible accident, but it has nothing to do with me. You have to stop...persecuting me.”
He cleared his throat. “Three points, Madame Silk. One, I am just doing my job. Two, it was not an accident. And three, it appears it does have something to do with you.”
“Not an accident?”
“No, it was not.”
“Suicide? But he was such a...”
“No, madame. Doesn’t look like suicide.”
“But that leaves murder.”
Champagne Breakfast
Contributed by Miz Josey Thring, EA
4 homemade or frozen waffles—prepared
1 peach and 1 nectarine, pitted and sliced
½ teaspoon lemon zest
½ cup fresh blueberries
¼ cup blueberry syrup
1 teaspoon maple syrup
Heat syrup, zest, syrups and berries. Place two waffles on each plate. Top with fruit and syrup. Serve with chilled champagne and orange juice.
Eight
Yes, madame.”
“Well, he was alive and obnoxious the last time I saw him. Oh. Did someone shoot at him from the side of the road? A rifle? Because...”
He shook his head. He reached out and picked a shrivelled leaf from the poor old philodendron that Aunt Kit had left behind.
“Please leave my plant alone and tell me what happened.”
“Preliminary tests indicate the presence of drugs.”
“Drugs? He took drugs?”
“GHB. A date rape drug. I suspect he didn’t know he was taking these.”
I stared at him. “You can’t think I had anything to do with it. I barely knew him. And what about the woman who was with him? Maybe she—”
“There was no woman.”
“Believe me, I don’t hallucinate women. What if someone gave her drugs too, and she was injured or shocked, and she crawled into the woods.”
He shook his head. “You saw the vehicle. No one would have made it out of that.”
“Perhaps she was thrown from the vehicle on impact. That happens. Doesn’t it?”
“Sure, but there’s a body when it does happen. Based on what you said, we did a very careful search of every centimetre of that ravine. Believe me, no one crawled away from that accident.”
“I can’t believe you suspect me.”
“I don’t.”
“Are you asking everyone in St. Aubaine if they blamed Danny Dupree for their problems? How about my neighbour Jean-Claude Lamontagne? I bet you’re not asking him.”
“You are right, madame. I am not. I’m just doing—”
“Well, I’d like to be doing my job too, but the police won’t leave me alone. This situation isn’t the same as the last time. I actually had a relationship with Benedict, but Danny Dupree meant nothing to me. Hardly even an acquaintance. There would be hundreds of people more involved with him than I was.”
“We got a tip.”
“A tip? What do you mean a tip?”
“A tip. Everyone knows what a tip is. Someone called the station and suggested that you had something to gain from Danny Dupree’s death. I have no choice but to follow up.”
“I have nothing to gain from his death. I keep telling you, we’re not connected. He held some of my husband’s investments, that’s all.” I thought about my words. Unfortunately, it was too late to call them back.
“That’s what our caller said. You want your husband to settle your property division, and he’s stalling. Dupree was helping him with that game.”
“Game?”
“Sure. Men play it all the time. Maybe women do too. But mostly it’s men. This Dupree was your husband’s ally. So, poof, you even the odds.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You do need money, madame.”
“Lots of people need money. Most of us don’t bump people off to get it though.”
He shrugged yet again.
“The woman saw me. She even tossed a cigarette out the window. Oh wait, she must have called in the tip.”
He shook his head.
I said, “Well, none of it makes sense. Who else would call in a tip like that about me?”
“Someone who has a grudge against you and wants suspicion deflected from them?”
“I don’t know who that could be.”
“Your ex-husband perhaps.”
“No. Trust me, Philip is a jerk, but he’s not a crook.”
“We’ll be checking him out.”
“Oh, boy.” That’s all I needed—Philip,