Page 35
Story: The Lemon Drop Kid
“Hedidn’t. He had no reason to. He had no reason. That affair meantnothingto Astrid, and Malcolm knew it.”
I talked right over Raleigh’s attempt to speak. “First of all, the relationship ended a month earlier, which is why the idea that Astrid killed Tom is ridiculous. And why it’s even more ridiculous that Malcolm would have killed him and then waited almost a year to kill Astrid. On what fucking interplanetary soap opera does that make sense? Besides, Tom wasn’t Astrid’s first affair.”
Nowthatcaught him off guard. His eyes went dark and wide. “What? Wait. You didn’t know Astrid was—You didn’t know about Peyton, let alone— You never said a word.”
“No. I didn’t. It wasn’t your business. It wasn’t even mine. But yes, I knew about the relationship with Tom. I knew about the others as well. They didn’tmatter. It’s just how she was. She and Malcolm were a great team. She valued that partnership. The others were just… flings. Malcolm isn’t a romantic guy. He knew about the affairs. I mean, I don’t think they talked about it, I don’t think he liked it, but he knew. Astrid made sure he understood he was always going to come first.”
Raleigh was shaking his head. “I don’t buy it. Astrid wasn’t like that.”
I laughed. “Really? Why? Because she was good at business? Because she was a great sister? An upstanding member of the community? A loving wife? Shewasall those things. She was…she was a wonderful person. Who sometimes needed more, something besides what she had with Malcolm. I guess. I’m not saying I get it. Or that I liked it. But it’s how it was. I don’t have any reason to lie about this. Malcolm had no motive for wanting Astrid dead. He’s wandering around that house like a ghost. He can’t even bear to have her dogs around. You’re going to have to find someone else to blame this on.” I added bitterly, “Thank God, I have an alibi this time.”
I saw the wince, though he tried to stay stoic. He let out a long breath. “Okay. You’re right. You know more about this than anyone else. Which is why—do you think you’re up to reading the note she left?”
Sooner or later, I would have to face it. I said wearily, “Do you have it with you?”
He nodded. “I was hoping to talk to you tonight. I stopped by here, but you had already left. Malcolm said—”
“Where did you run into Malcolm?”
“He was driving out as I was driving in. He mentioned he was on his way to have dinner with friends and that you were meeting Dax at Cutter’s Mill.”
Had I told Malcolm I was meeting Dax? I couldn’t remember.
Raleigh unzipped his jacket, reached inside, pulled out a folded sheet in a plain envelope. “This is a copy.”
I took the sheet out of the envelope, unfolded it, smoothed it out and began to read.
Darling,
I know this is going to hurt you terribly. I’m so sorry. You know it’s the last thing I want. But Tom’s death haunts me more with each passing day. It was so stupid, so needless. I kept trying to tell myself, I had no choice, but of course I did. Tom had his faults, but he didn’t deserve to die. I should have had the courage to come forward months ago, but I was afraid. Now I’m more afraid that there will be an even greater tragedy if I don’t act. I truly couldn’t survive that.
I can’t bear to think that I’ve ruined your life. You’re still young. Young enough to go on and find happiness again. I hope you can forgive me for everything I’ve done, as well as what I’m about to do. You know I love you. Nothing changes that.
A.
I read it twice.
What in the hell had she been talking about? Not suicide, that was for sure. I could tell she’d written it quickly and that she’d been emotional. Her handwriting was usually elegant and controlled. This was spiky and tight. Something had happened, that was for sure.
Hopefully, not that last visit with me. I hadn’t been in a good place. The idea of spending Christmas in jail, the realization we would soon be coming up on the one-year anniversary of my incarceration, that my trial was still months away…
No, I hadn’t tried to put a brave face on things, and for that, I was always going to feel guilty.
When I had finished reading the second time, I said, “Thiswas my get-out-of-jail-free card?”
“Combined with her suicide? It’s pretty convincing.”
“Isit?”
Raleigh said cautiously, “It convinced everyone who read it that you weren’t involved. Yes.”
“But you don’t believe she committed suicide.”
“No.”
Now that I’d read the letter, I was starting not to believe it either, but I wondered what had tipped off Raleigh.
He said, “This letter was supposedly left for Malcolm. Malcolm said Astrid left it folded on his pillow. His story is he took his sales team out to dinner, and that by the time he arrived home and found her, it was too late.”
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