“Reika, if you have an alibi for that night, the police will need to hear this.”
“Why?”
“Because you have a strong motive to have killed Jason. You wanted the Bramblewood Historical Preservation Society to secure the properties he was bidding on.”
“Heavens. I wouldn’t kill him for such a shallow reason.”
“You said you sent him vicious texts and emails.”
She didn’t respond.
“Also …” My voice trailed off.
“Also what?” Her gaze hardened.
“A dog was heard barking Monday night, around eleven thirty, near the estate where Jason was staying. Amira has a very distinctive growly yip. If you and she were out walking—”
“We weren’t. We were home. I swear.”
“The police are searching for the source of the barking.” It was a fib. I didn’t know if it was true.
“Hold on. Roy can solve this.” She fetched her cell phone and tapped in a text message. She showed the text to me. It read:Please answer. Then she typed in his phone number and pressed speaker.
“What now?” a man asked with a surly edge to his voice.
“It’s me,” Reika said. “I’m sorry to bother you, but a friend is with me—she’s listening in—and I need you to verify I was drunk Monday night and could barely talk to you when you phoned me.”
He sighed.
“Please, Roy. This friend …” She regarded me. “She’s questioning whether I killed Jason Gardner.”
“You couldn’t have,” Roy said. “You were totally plastered that night. Who’s the friend?”
“Allie Catt.”
“Of Dream Cuisine?”
“The same.”
“You’re good at what you do, Miss Catt,” he said. “I attended a benefit you catered last year. Best desserts I’ve ever tasted.”
“Thank you.” I’d helmed at least six benefits, so I wasn’t sure which one he meant.
“Reika is telling the truth,” he went on. “She was in bed Monday night.”
“Because you broke it off with me.”
He grunted.
“Roy, tell her why,” Reika pleaded. “Every sordid detail. She needs to believe me.”
“Fine.” His voice softened. “Now that I’m retired, I asked Reika to retire so we could sail the world. She refused.”
“I’m afraid of water,” she argued.
“You could get over your issue with hypnosis,” I whispered.
“The real truth,” Roy continued, “is you’re married to your work, and you chose it over me, and I blew up. I never wanted to see you again. I called you selfish and a big tease. I’d hoped to spend my best years with you, but obviously, I wasn’t good enough.”