8 A Wedding and a Killing Page 13

  “That’s it.” She snapped her fingers. “Am I right in assuming you wouldn’t let me put his body in a boat, sail it out into the middle of the lake, and then have everyone shoot flaming arrows at it to set it on fire and sink it?”

  Bogie covered his mouth with his hand to contain his laughter.

  After recouping from his stunned silence, David said, “Your assumption is correct, Mrs. Newton.”

  “I thought so. That’s why I’m having Eugene cremated.”

  “I hope you got a fire permit for the bonfire,” Bogie said with a straight face. “With twenty gallons of gasoline, I recommend you have the fire company standing by.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t think about that. How many firefighters are there in the company? I wonder if I should buy a second pig. As long as they’re standing by, it would be rude of me not to feed them.”

  “Don’t you fret, Marilyn,” Bogie said. “Doc and I will help you get everything you need to give Eugene a very fine Viking funeral. Have you thought of fireworks?”

  “Can we get back to Eugene’s murder?” David asked.

  “Please do,” she replied before answering Bogie. “Be sure to get back to me on the fireworks.”

  With a wink, Bogie acknowledged her request.

  “Yesterday, your husband of—” David asked her, “How many years were you two married?”

  “Twenty-five,” Marilyn said.

  “Your husband of twenty-five years was brutally murdered yesterday,” David said, “and today you booked a ten-day cruise to Hawaii—a suite for two. Did you and your husband have any children?”

  “No, we couldn’t have children,” she said. “Eugene shot blanks. But that was okay. We have dogs, which in many ways are better than real children. We didn’t have to worry about saving for college, though we did have to put in a pretty pricey invisible fence because this twerp who moved in across the road was scared of Po Bear. Once he got out—Po Bear, not the neighbor—and he got in his yard and you should have heard him. He screamed like a little girl—the neighbor, not Po Bear.” She added in a mockingly deep voice. “Po Bear has a real deep masculine bark. It’s very impressive.” She giggled at her impression. “But, because this twerp threw such a hissy fit, we had to have an invisible fence put in. But that wasn’t enough for the twerp—”

  “Mrs. Newton,” David interjected. “Who’s going on this cruise with you?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Why? Do you want to go? You look like you could use a good long vacation, Chief O’Callaghan.”

  Bogie replied, “The chief does work very hard.”

  “Mrs. Newton,” David said, “you have to understand how it looks to us. Someone murdered your husband and, then, as soon as he’s dead, you’re booking an expensive trip to Hawaii and asking men to go with you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Chief O’Callaghan!” she gasped. “What kind of woman do you think I am? I’m in mourning! The only reason I’m not wearing black is because I don’t have any black summer dresses. If I knew my husband was going to be murdered in the summer I would have been more prepared.”

  Rubbing his fingers against one of his temples, David asked. “Why did you book that trip? Why today—”

  “Because it was a great deal,” Marilyn said. “The travel agency was having a special. It includes one free shore excursion.”

  “But why did you suddenly go booking a trip as soon as Eugene was dead?” Bogie asked.

  “Because my Eugene told me to,” Marilyn said.

  “Did he tell you this before or after he told you he wanted a Viking funeral?” David asked. “Don’t tell me. He put it in his death book. Throw me a Viking funeral and then go on a cruise.”

  “No, it is not in his death book,” she replied. “He told me to go on the cruise before he told me about the Vikings. … I think.” Her eyes narrowed in deep thought. “Actually, it could have been … Was it after? We saw that Viking movie several years ago.”

  Cocking his head, David squinted at her. “Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’ve been talking about a cruise since we got married, so we could have talked about that before the Vikings. Is which came first important?”

  “No,” David replied.

  “Good, because I can’t remember.”

  “What were you doing between eleven o’clock and one o’clock yesterday, Mrs. Newton,” David asked her.

  “Oh, now that’s an easy question.” Pointing at him with a long index finger tipped in blue, sparkly polish, she flashed him a broad grin. “I had my yoga class from ten-thirty to eleven-thirty. Then, at noon I went to get my nails done.”

  “If you got a manicure only yesterday, why were you doing them just now?” David fought the chuckle working its way to his lips with how swiftly he caught his suspect in a lie.

  “I didn’t like the top coat she used,” Marilyn replied. “It isn’t shiny. Plus she didn’t leave them under the dryer long enough and I got a smudge on my ring finger. I figured as long as you had me waiting, I’d go ahead and fix them.” She laid both hand down on the table top and spread out her fingers. “How do they look now?” She bent over to closely examine the fingertips. “This is the first time I got blue sparkles. I know. It’s too much. If I knew I was going to be in mourning I would have gotten something more demure. Do you think people will understand that I didn’t know?”

  “Maybe your manicurist will give you a redo,” Bogie said.

  “You’re right,” Marilyn said. “I mean, seeing how people can jump to the wrong conclusions—like your chief assuming I’m taking some young lover on a cruise and all …” She held out her long slender left hand for David to inspect. “Chief, O’Callaghan, do you think that’s too much? Take a look at my ring finger. You would never know that I smudged it yesterday.”

  David touched the blue tipped fingernails. Instead of observing the hue of her nails, he took note of the diamond in her engagement ring, and the diamond encrusted wedding band attached. Together, the two rings took up the whole bottom of her ring finger, up to the first knuckle. She had to be wearing a total of four carats on that one finger.

  I heard plumbers made a lot of money, but this guy must have used gold piping to bring in enough bucks for a ring like that … or dipping into the offering plate to keep his lady in diamonds.

  “Be honest, Chief,” Marilyn said to draw him from his thoughts. “Too much? Should I ask them for a redo?”

  He didn’t know if Marilyn Newton was a dumb blonde or a very cunning black widow. He turned his gaze from her glittery fingers to her lovely face. Marilyn Newton was a stunning woman. “I would.”

  Her eyes met his. She smiled. “You have such beautiful blue eyes, Chief O’Callaghan.”

  There it was. The charming black widow has revealed herself. Aware that he was at least fifteen years younger than she, David adjusted his assessment. Maybe even a cross between a black widow and a cougar on the prowl.

  Before his suspicion could take root, her eyes filled with tears that spilled over the rims. “Not as beautiful as my Eugene’s. He had such handsome green eyes. They were so soft and sweet and …” she choked. “… sexy.”

  As if her touch was electrified, David dropped her hand.

  Bogie slid a box of tissue across the table to her and yanked out sheets to hold out to her. Taking the tissues, she asked the deputy chief, “Weren’t they, Bogie? Didn’t my Eugene have sexy green eyes?”

  “I-I—to tell you the truth,” Bogie stuttered, “I never noticed how sexy Eugene’s eyes were.”

  She sobbed, “Now I’ll never be able to look into them again.”

  While Bogie patted her arm, she blew her nose into the tissues before taking another tissue to wipe her face. “My Eugene had the sexiest butt you’ve ever seen, too.”

  Clea
ring his throat, David cast a glance at Bogie out of the corner of his eye. I know the point of an interrogation is to gather information, but this woman is giving us too much.

  “He didn’t like it when I bragged to my friends about how sexy he was,” Marilyn continued while dabbing the tears from her eyes. “He was furious when I told my women’s Bible study group about his butt.” She offered them a smiled. “My Eugene was such a humble man.”

  “Marilyn,” Bogie said, “I think if you had a lawyer present right now, he’d advise you to only answer our questions.” He added in a whisper, “It would not be in your best interest to tell us—“ He gestured to David and himself “—about how sexy Eugene’s butt was.”

  “Can we get back to Eugene Newton’s murder?” David asked in a firm tone.

  “You do need a vacation,” Marilyn said. “Can I suggest a cruise? Have you ever been on one, Chief O’Callaghan?”

  David braced for an emotional response to a question that he was required to ask the spouse of every murder victim. “How was your marriage, Mrs. Newton?”

  She uttered a low growl. “I’ll bet you’ve been talking to Helga Thorpe.”

  The corner of David’s mouth curled. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because she’s been spreading nasty rumors about my Eugene,” Marilyn said. “One was about embezzlement. She claimed he was embezzling money from the church. Only Eugene insists on an audit every year. The auditors proved that was a lie. Then, this past year, rumors started about him and Edna.”

  “The office manager?” Bogie asked with a gasp. “No.”

  Marilyn nodded her head. “Of course, I heard them.”

  “Did you ask Eugene about those rumors?” David asked her.

  “I didn’t have to,” Marilyn said. “Yes, Eugene and Edna worked closely together. He also worked with Pastor Deborah, and Edna and Deborah work together. They were all very good friends, but that’s it. Edna is my best friend. She came to work at the church after her skunk of a husband ran off on her for a younger woman with size D cups.” She hissed, “They weren’t real.”

  She sat back in her seat. “Church folks are just like everyone else in that when you get a group of people together, there’s always one or two troublemakers looking to drive a wedge between friends just for the sake of seeing drama.”

  She wagged a finger at Bogie and David. “I tracked down that rumor and it started with Helga Thorpe. Of course, if there was a scandal because the married chief trustee was having an affair with the divorced office manager, then he would be forced to resign—”

  “Which would open the door for her to apply for the job,” Bogie finished.

  David was doubtful. “Is that what Eugene and Edna told you?”

  “It’s what I know,” Marilyn said. “I know you have to investigate that rumor to make sure it wasn’t true and that I didn’t have a motive for killing my Eugene.”

  “I’m sorry to say you did have motive, Mrs. Newton,” David said with a sigh. “You’re booking cruises while his body is still warm.”

  “You have to understand my Eugene, Chief O’Callaghan,” Marilyn said with a sigh. “Going on a cruise to Hawaii was at the top of my bucket list—”

  Bogie nodded his head. “It’s on your list of things to do before you die.”

  “No,” Marilyn said. “Well, yes.” With a sigh, she regarded her long fingernails. “I have two bucket lists. On one, I have a list of things I want to do before I die. But I also have a second one.”

  “What bucket list is that?” David asked.

  “Things to do after my Eugene died,” she said. “Going on a cruise was number one on the list.” Seeing David and Bogie exchanging startled and suspicious glances, she laid her hands on her bosom. “I loved my Eugene with all my heart! He was the most compassionate, handsome, organized, practical, and sexiest man alive. He was honorable and faithful. But he was also something else.”

  “What?” Bogie asked.

  “My Eugene was a stick in the mud.” She gestured at Bogie. “You met him. My Eugene was so tight that he squeaked when he walked. He did the grocery shopping. Do you know why?”

  “Because he was so cheap?” Bogie replied.

  “Oh, we had awful fights,” Marilyn said. “He would not believe me about how expensive groceries were. He swore that we spent so much on groceries because I didn’t know how to shop. So he took over the grocery shopping a little over ten years ago. Suddenly,” she smiled, “we stopped fighting over how much I spent on groceries because he was doing it. He was happy because he had control over the grocery budget. For years, he waited for me to get mad about it.” She giggled. “Never happened. I hated grocery shopping and dreaded those fights when I’d get home.” Her eyes teared up. “Now I have no one to go grocery shopping for me.” Breaking down into heavy sobs, she collapsed onto the table top.

  Bogie whipped a tissue out of the box and handed it to her. “It’s okay, Marilyn. I am so sorry that you have to go through this. Eugene was a good, good man.”

  Sniffing, she dabbed her eyes. “Yes, he was. Eugene was a very good man. Even if he was a stick in the mud, I still loved him more than anything.”

  “It must have been very hard being married to such a frugal man,” David said. “Didn’t the thought ever occur to you that you might die first and not get to do those things on your bucket list?”

  She laughed loudly. David and Bogie exchanged puzzled glances.

  “What?” David asked over her laughter.

  “Everyone knew Eugene was going to die first,” she said with a wave of her hand. She sucked in her laughter. “Not that we wanted him to die first, but—it just went without saying.” A weak smile came to her lips. “I always said that when he died, I’d find out I was an heiress.”

  “Were you?” David asked before correcting himself. “Are you an heiress?”

  “Yes, my Eugene said he’d make sure I was very well taken care of and he did.”

  David and Bogie exchanged glances filled with suspicion.

  Seeing this, Marilyn shook her head. “Don’t you see? If my Eugene wasn’t so tight, then I wouldn’t be sitting pretty right now. I owe everything to him, and God for bringing him into my life. God knew I needed a stick in the mud like Eugene, and Eugene needed me to bring fun into his life. So God brought the two of us together.”

  “Really?” David cocked his head at her. “Most women like you would get impatient waiting for their husband to die to let them take advantage of their fortune.”

  “Maybe twenty years ago, before I grew up and came to appreciate all that Eugene did for me.” Marilyn waved her hands with her long fingernails to gesture at her flowing blonde hair. “Look at me. I drive a red convertible. Eugene drove a green sedan. I was flash and excitement. Eugene was a balanced budget and practicality. Eugene was news and in bed at nine o’clock every night. I was sexy romance books and sleeping in in the morning.” She grinned. “But think about it. If I didn’t have Eugene to keep me on the straight and narrow, I would have been out of control and dead before I was forty. And if Eugene didn’t have me, then he’d have no fun or friends.” Tears came to her eyes.

  “Why wouldn’t he have any friends?” David asked.

  “Because he was a bad man.”

  “You just said he was a good man,” David countered with a grin at catching her contradiction.

  “He was.” Seeing the spark in his eyes, she rushed on to add, “But his job was to be a bad man and Eugene was very good at it. He was the guy who had to make the hard decisions, both at home and in the church. You have to understand. You’re probably the bad man here, Chief. There’s always someone who has to make the unpopular decisions for the greater good. That was always Eugene. He would always get chosen to break the bad news and enforce the hard rules, which would get people mad at him.”

  “Like no to bake sa
les,” David said while thinking of Chip Van Dorn.

  “Oh, man,” Marilyn said. “Talk about shooting the messenger there. We all called Eugene ‘the bad man.’”

  “What other kind of unpopular things would Eugene have to do?” David asked her.

  “Tell me no,” she replied. “No, we can’t buy a Mercedes convertible. No, we can’t get a fourth dog. No, we can’t go on a cruise.” In a whisper, she added, “Actually, we could afford a cruise. He just didn’t want to go on one.”

  “Who else did Eugene have to say no to?” David asked. “Who else was he unpopular with?”

  Marilyn said, “Some of our church members are difficult to get along with. Like Helga Thorpe, for example. She always has an opinion about everything and sometimes she’ll corner Pastor Deborah. Well, Deborah and Eugene have this thing—”

  “What kind of thing?” Bogie asked.

  “On Sundays, if she got cornered by someone, Pastor Deborah would shoot a look at Eugene and he would go over and make an excuse to take Deborah away. He did the same for Edna. Some of the church members, especially the lonely, older men, have become kind of dependent on her for company—you know, on account that she’s so pretty and nice. So, if one of those poor old souls started monopolizing Edna’s time to the point of being a pest so that she couldn’t get her work done, my Eugene would move in to save her with an excuse about needing her for this or that.”

  “Did anybody object to Eugene doing that?” David asked.

  Marilyn cast him a blank expression. “Not really. Like I said, Eugene was a bad man. It was what he did.”

  “What other unpopular decisions did Eugene make?” David leaned forward in his seat. “If he made a career out of being the bad man, he had to have had enemies. Did anyone give him any trouble—threaten him because of one of his hard decisions?”

  Her beautiful blue eyes went blank. “No,” she said in a very low tone. Realization seeped in. “But …”

  “Who?” David asked.

  Bogie was at the edge of his seat. “What are you thinking about Marilyn?”

  “But he would have never gone through with it.”