Page 47 of The Attic on Queen Street
Jayne sent me a look of reproach.
“Sorry—I must have forgotten,” I said, fiddling with my own napkin. “I just thought, considering the subject matter of what we’d be discussing, Jayne should be part of it. So should Veronica, but it’s her wedding anniversary and she and Michael had other plans.” I didn’t add that I didn’t want Michael involved. Even though we’d declared a kind of truce, his doubts about my ability to find answers and his impatience to be done with the investigation into Adrienne’s death were too distracting. I’d tell Veronica everything later and leave it up to her what she’d choose to share with her husband.
Jack nudged my foot under the table at my blatant lie about forgetting to tell Thomas about Jayne, but I ignored him. “So,” I said brightly, “I can’t wait to hear everything, Thomas. But first—can we order? I’m starving.” I opened my menu, noting how it was divided into produce, seafood, and meat, and my heart fell as I studied all of the healthy options. I had second thoughts about this being my new favorite restaurant. Until I spotted the dessert portion and my mood was immediately restored.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Jack admitted. “What do you recommend?”
“Everything,” Thomas said. “The chef, Kevin Johnson, is well known for doing amazing things with vegetables, but there’s really nothing bad on the menu.” Thomas opened his own menu and glanced at it. “I’d suggest sharing a few starters—as long as one of them is the fried oysters. And I would highly recommend the wood-fired whole fish for the table for our main.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jack tilted his head in my direction. “But Mellie doesn’t like to share her food. Trust me, I’ve got scars from puncture wounds on the tops of my hands to prove it.”
I glared at Jack, knowing only half of his statement was fictional, then looked over at Jayne. She continued to smile and nod like a bobblehead. I lifted my foot under the table to give her a quick yet solid kick to make her stop.
Thomas grunted, then leaned down to rub his leg.
“Sorry.” I smiled. “Just crossing my legs.” I turned to my sister. “Does sharing some starters and then fish for the table sound good to you?”
She nodded twice.
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s do that. But I’d like my own order of the oysters, and can I go ahead and order the peanut butter bar for dessert? I’d hate for them to run out before we finish our dinner.”
I felt three sets of eyes on me as I carefully slid my menu away to show that my decisions had been made. “I’m starving,” I said again.
Thomas ordered wine for the table—sparkling water with lime for Jack—and after several attempts, Jayne was able to join in the small talk until the main course arrived and the waiter left us.
Jack put down his water glass and turned to Thomas. “Were you able to find out anything about who sent that text to Mellie?”
“I was.” Thomas took a bite of his wreckfish, and closed his eyes while he chewed slowly. After swallowing he continued. “But it wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped.”
“What do you mean?” Jayne took her time enunciating each word, just as we’d practiced.
“The phone number was last assigned to a public pay phone that was in the lobby of Buist Rivers dorm. It’s not there anymore, and the number hasn’t been reassigned.”
“A pay phone? But you can’t send a text from a pay phone.”
“Nor can you send a text from a phone that’s not there anymore,” Thomas added.
“That’s the dorm Adrienne lived in and where her body was found,” I clarified for Jack’s benefit.
“Was her roommate ever a suspect?” Jack asked.
“No.” Thomas took a sip of his wine. “She was at her parents’ house in Atlanta for the weekend. Her alibi is solid. She lives in Summerville now, so I took a little drive to interview her. Just to see if there might be anything she hadn’t thought important before and didn’t mention.”
“And?” Jayne managed the one-syllable word perfectly.
“She confirmed again that Adrienne hadn’t been fighting with her boyfriend. That she had lots of friends and no known enemies. But she did bring up something that wasn’t in the police reports from the time of the murder.”
The three of us leaned forward in unison.
“She might not have been fighting with her boyfriend, but the roommate seems to remember Adrienne arguing on the phone a few times the week of her death.”
“With whom?” Jack asked, his hands flat on the table.
I stared at his left hand. He wasn’t wearing the gold wedding band I’d placed on his finger on our wedding day. I wasn’t sure if this was new or if he hadn’t been wearing it for months and I had simply refused to notice. It wouldn’t be the first time I had been deliberately oblivious. I took a long sip from my wineglass, hoping it would help soothe the hurt that had begun to radiate throughout my body.
“Her sister,” Thomas said, his voice dragging me back to the conversation.
“Veronica?” Jayne asked, having mastered the one-word question.
