Page 10 of Little Merry Murder

“What happened when you got home?”

“I did the same thing I do every night. I parked in the garage out back—it’s detached from the house—then headed for our back porch, like always. That’s when I noticed one of the panels of glass on the back door was broken, and it was unlocked. It’sneverunlocked. Claire was strict about making sure all the doors were locked. All the time. To the point of annoyance, if I’m being honest. So, yeah … this was odd.”

“Do you have security cameras?”

“Sorry to say I don’t. Never had a break-in anywhere I’ve ever lived. I thought we were safe, thought the neighborhood was safe. Guess I was wrong.”

“You noticed the shattered glass, then the unlocked door. What happened when you entered the house?”

“There was a knife on the kitchen counter. Had blood all over it. I picked it up, looked it over. I thought Claire had cut herself. Then I saw more blood, on the carpet, the wall. I panicked. I started running through the house, calling Claire’s name.”

“Then what happened?”

He looked away, his focus shifting to the floor. “I … I found her in the den. Blood all over her clothes. I bent down, grabbed her, started shaking her. She was like a ragdoll in my arms. So cold and quiet. It didn’t seem real. I held her in my arms for … awhile. I’m not sure how long. Time just kinda stopped. I was in shock. It didn’t seem real, but itwasreal. Once I came to terms with the fact she was dead, I called my mother. Then I called the police.”

“Why did you call your mother first?”

“I don’t know. Needed to hear a familiar voice, I guess. I was a mess.”

I checked my watch.

Visitors were given one hour to meet.

I was running out of time.

“One of your neighbors told the police she’d overheard an argument between you and Claire,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m guessing it was Marianne Bowman. Seemed like a nice lady until Claire’s mother died.”

“What changed?”

“For starters, she’s a single retiree without a thing to do. She started visiting Claire, offering her a shoulder to cry on. Ever since, the woman’s been awful to me. Dunno why. Claire wasn’t the type of person to say anything negative about anyone, much less her husband, so it didn’t make sense.”

“Did you ask Marianne about it?”

“A few weeks back, I was taking the trash to the curb. Marianne walked right up to me, pointed a finger in my face,and said Claire deserved a real man. She didn’t understand what Claire saw in me.”

“What was your response?”

“I’ll admit I had a few choice words for the old broad. I put her in her place. She hasn’t said a word to me since.”

Another glance at my watch.

Less than five minutes to go.

I shifted the direction of the conversation.

“Is there anyone you can think of who would have wanted to kill Claire?” I asked.

He gave the question some thought. “We may not have had the best relationship before she died, but she was the sweetest person. Even though we were headed for divorce, I would have never wanted any harm to come to her. Maybe though, just maybe, she’s happy now, in her spirit life or whatever there is after we die.”

It was an odd comment.

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

“Heaven knows I tried to get through to her this past year, after her mother passed. Nothing I tried worked. In the end, I was just … worn out, tired of trying. And hey, I know it wasn’t right. I gave up on her, and she didn’t deserve it. She deserved better. So much better.”

We’d come a long way since the start of our meeting.

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