Page 39
Story: Lament at Loon Landing
Ellery was determined to talk to Jack about the case in general and Dylan in particular, but he knew he had to pick his moment. Aggravatingly, the moment didn’t come. Jack was careful, courteous, and clearly couldn’t wait to get out of the house and away from Ellery.
“You’re not staying for breakfast?” Ellery pushed back the shower curtain when Jack popped open the bathroom door to say he was leaving.
“No time.”
“No time for a cup of coffee?”
Jack held up his insulated mug by way of answer.
Ellery shook his wet hair out of his eyes. “You don’t have to flee your residence, Jack. I wasn’t going to grill you. I just want to know if you questioned Dylan last night. Or do I have to rely on Nora for my updates?” He was partly kidding. Partly not.
Either way, Jack was not amused.
His jaw got as square and uncordial as a NO TRESPASSING sign. “We interviewed Dylan. We haven’t made an arrest. But you should know—and this is not public information—”
Oops. Maybe not the best choice of words. Ellery, who had spent the prior evening struggling with torn loyalties, went from slight exasperation to full out ire in less than a second.
“You think I don’t know that!”
Jack gave him a cool look, and finished, “—Dylan’s our prime suspect.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Youknowit is.”
Jack began to tick off his bullet points. “Dylan and September had numerous public arguments over the past week. September repeatedly claimed that Dylan was controlling and abusive.”
“Does that sound like Dylan to you?” Ellery interrupted.
But Jack would not be interrupted. “Dylan was overheard telling Tom Tulley he’d like to wring September’s neck. Not once, which would be bad enough. Ontwoseparate occasions.”
“Yeah, but her neck wasn’t…” Ellery swallowed. “Wrung.”
“He argued with her again hours before he received a garbled, all but incomprehensible phone message that heclaimswas September threatening suicide, and then he sentyouover there to conveniently discover her body.”
Ellery was smart enough to see that Dylan sendinghimto September’s was an especially black mark in Jack’s book. It defused some of his aggravation with Jack.
He said more patiently, “People argue, Jack. We’re arguing right now. Dylan wouldn’t have sent me over there, if he’d killed her. I’m telling you; he wouldn’t have done that to me.”
Jack shook his head impatiently, as though Ellery just didn’t get it. And really, is there anything more irritating than someone implying you don’t know enough to know what’s good for you?
“He admitted last night that he’s been trying to end the relationship for the past month, but she kept dragging back in.”
“It’s not like she could have held him prisoner. They were having a messy breakup. Believe me, it happens. It usually doesn’t end in murder.”
“Sometimes it does. And this looks like one of those times.”
“He didn’t do it. He can’tbe yourmainsuspect.”
Jack met his gaze straight on. “Ellery, he’s ouronlysuspect.”
“Well, you’re wrong,” Ellery said. “Again.”
Which was definitely not the most tactful thinghecould have said, but he wasn’t used to Jack coming at him like a steamroller. Maybe Jack was hoping to quash any rebellion before it got started, but maybe he just really,reallyhe hated arguing with Ellery as much as Ellery hated with arguing with him. Whichever, the—as it felt to Ellery—Totalitarian Dictator approach had put his back up big time.
Jack’s blue-green eyes narrowed. His mouth tightened. “I think it’s a good idea we avoid discussing this particular case.”
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