“Darci.”
Jerking her head up, Darci stared into Brittany ’s eyes, her own dark and bruised-looking. “She was a horrid, pathetic woman who was getting old before her time,” she whispered to her friend. “But she didn’t deserve to die before her time.”
Britt leaned forward, taking Darci’s hand and wrapping her hands around Darci’s cold ones. “Listen, honey, and listen good. Malcontent breeds malcontent. Though most people in this town believed Carrie’s lies, and few knew the truth, she didn’t deserve what happened to her. But unfortunately, the way Carrie liked to live-telling tales, breeding ill will-sooner or later, she was going to set off the wrong person,” Brittany whispered. “What goes around does indeed come around. Sometimes, in spades.”
Inexplicably, Darci’s eyes filled with tears. Britt leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her, rocking her slightly. “Shhh…shhh, don’t cry, Darci. She’s cost you too many tears already.”
Darci forced a deep, somewhat shaky breath into her lungs and then she nodded, pulling back, looking up, letting the tears dry before they fell. “No crying. None. Can we get this over with? I really want to get out of here,” she said fervently.
Darci was walking down the two steps that led to the sidewalk when she heard Britt’s indrawn breath. “Don’t say a damn thing to her,” Brittany warned under her breath. “I mean it. Don’t get drawn into something with her. Your alibi checks out, you couldn’t have done it, we know you couldn’t have done it. Don’t let her-”
“They are letting you walk out of here?” Beth demanded. Her eyes were bright with anger, her mouth twisted and snarling.
“Beth.” The deep voice came from over their heads and froze Darci in her tracks before she could say anything.
And she sure as hell was going to say something, even though Britt’s fingers were digging into her arm, about to cut her circulation off.
“Why are you letting her walk out of here? She killed Carrie! Everybody knows it!” Beth spat. A tiny bit of spittle clung to the corner of her mouth and disgust curled in Darci’s belly.
“She couldn’t have killed Carrie. Not unless she’s able to be in two places at once. She’s got an alibi for a solid six hours,” Kellan said as he came down the two steps, not looking at Darci. “I’m heading out to speak with said alibi and take his statement. But it’s pretty much ironclad.”
“She probably fucked him to get it,” Beth snarled, reaching up and shoving at Darci’s chest. “Hell, she’s fucking everybody in town.”
Darci batted her hand away and said, “Don’t touch me again, Beth. I’ll make allowances because you’re angry and upset. And I’ll make allowances because I know you’re probably hurting over Carrie, but do it again, and I’ll get mad.”
She heard a muffled snort from Kellan and Britt snickered. Beth’s eyes flamed. “Are you threatening me?” Beth gasped.
“You’d like that,” Darci said. “Something else for you to give your lawyer to work on. I’m not saying another damn word to you.”
Yep, he was trying not to laugh, she was sure of it, as the odd smothered cough came from Kellan again. Beth lifted her chin, trying to look arrogantly proud. “You think you’re going to get away with it,” she rasped. “It doesn’t matter what alibi you’ve come up with. You killed Carrie. You’re the only one who could have. You’re the only one who hates her.”
Darci lifted her chin. “Bullshit. Not everybody in this town is blind. She had some people fooled, but there are other people who know exactly what she was.”
Then she moved around Beth and headed on down the sidewalk.
“How can you let her walk?” Beth demanded.
“Because she’s got a damned good alibi. If it turns out she lied, I’ll pick her up. But that’s unlikely,” Kellan said, moving around her. “Now let me do my job, Ms. Morris.”
“You’ve been fooled by that pretty face,” Beth snarled. “I’m not surprised. She’s got everybody wrapped around her finger.”
Kellan compressed his lips together and continued on down the sidewalk, following in Darci’s footsteps.
“See? See? You go following after her, right in front of me,” Beth shrieked.
“No. I’m going to talk to Clive. He was her alibi. She spent the evening at his café,” Kellan said over his shoulder. “And I thought I’d follow this up with checking with damn near everybody in town, since three-fourths of the population seem to enjoy stopping by his shop for ice cream or coffee on a Friday night.”
Kellan didn’t see when Beth whispered, “Clive?” or the way her lips tightened afterward.
“Damn it,” Beth mumbled.
“It had to have been her. It had to. Doesn’t make any sense. Nobody else would have wanted to do it,” she swore as she paced around and around her studio.
Her gray hair was messy, oily from many restless passes of her hands. She had never allowed herself to look so unpresentable, but she hadn’t been prepared for the sudden knock on the door, and she had been too shaken by what had happened at the police station to go upstairs and try to make herself look as she felt she should.
Her house, damn it. Her house. If she wanted to look a mess in her own home, that was her right.
“It just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t rightly know why Clive would lie for her, but Darci is the only one who hated Carrie,” Beth said, turning and staring at her visitor, her eyes bright and burning with passion.
“Well, I don’t exactly see that as being true.”
Beth’s eyes widened as she saw the heavy glazed urn come crashing down, but she couldn’t move in time.
“I guess I should thank him one more time,” Darci said quietly, casting a look across the street at Clive’s.
“Not now. The Sheriff is about fifteen feet behind us and he needs to get his statement from Clive. Let’s let him get it. We can go across the street to the Ice Cream Shoppe. I want a cone-a double, I think-chocolate, with sprinkles. Then I want you to tell me about what happened yesterday when you went to see Carrie,” Britt said, hooking her arm through Darci’s and leading her across the narrow street.
So, over cold, creamy vanilla-chocolate for Britt-Darci told her. “She pushed me. Too far. But I wouldn’t have done this,” Darci murmured, her eyes taking on a far-off look. “I might have decked her. But this…” she sighed and shook her head. Then she took a thoughtful lick of her ice cream. “Beth seemed pretty convinced.”
“Beth is a woman who is so full of hatred, it’s easy for her to think that everybody around her hates as much as she does,” Britt said with a shrug.
The bell chimed over the door and a woman with a group of kids came in. Two of them darted toward Darci and she smiled at them, stroking her hand over a towheaded boy, tugging on a red braid. Their mom came up, smiling hesitantly. “Hey, Darci. I heard about Ms. Forrest, glad to see you…well, you know.”
Darci arched a brow. “Do I? Do I want to?”
The mom-what was her name…Janna, Janna Harton-leaned over and murmured quietly, “Beth Morris was going around telling everybody you did it. She hadn’t even made it home before she was making calls and telling everybody.”
Britt’s eyes flared. “That’s slander.”
Darci’s lips flattened out and she glanced at the kids. Shaking her head minutely, she told them with her eyes, not now. Then she brightly said, “I had the best night last night. Spent it over at Clive’s. Went over there around five or so, and did nothing but eat biscotti and drink mochas and cappuccinos until he chased me out when he closed.”