Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Best of Friends
I just knew Maggie hadn't done it.
Everybody in our little Pennsylvania town of Genoa Falls was talking about my best friend Maggie's murdered husband. What made it frustrating for me is that they were whispering among themselves about it. As her best friend, I needed to know what they were saying so I could set them straight.
Maggie was devastated. "Sandy, if it weren't for you," she sobbed on my shoulder, "I'd probably lose my mind. Everyone in town thinks I killed Dave. The police keep asking me questions. Thank God somebody believes me."
Maggie and I had been friends since our third-grade teacher placed us next to each other in class. We graduated from middle school together, fought over the same high school boyfriends, and forgave each other, many times. She mostly had to forgive me. I seemed to be the one who kept taking her boyfriends.
When I went off to college, Maggie stayed behind, but she wrote to me every month, even when I didn't always answer. She was my best friend, after all.
Even when Maggie married smart, well-to-do Dave Alton, we remained close. I lived in sophisticated New York, having made a name for myself as a personal trainer for the rich and beautiful, but I made frequent trips home. On one of those occasions, Dave asked me to help him get in top physical shape for the upcoming state senator's campaign. He wanted to make a good impression on the voters.
After workouts, we'd have fruit juice and talk about things in his office. At first I thought it was going to be like old times. I didn't realize that Dave meant exactly what he said -- he wanted to get into shape for the election. Dave informed me that he loved Maggie. He said he never meant to lead me into thinking he wanted more than my physical fitness expertise. He insisted we keep it professional.
Well, what did sweet, mousy, small-town Maggie have that was keeping Dave so loyal? It'd been no contest before when I wanted one of her boyfriends, and in high school, Dave had been one of them.
Then I realized -- all the times I'd approached Dave had been at his office. He was hoping to be elected to an important position and everyone was watching him closely. People did bug offices and Dave wouldn't want to be caught.
So I tried to work on him at his home -- get him to see that we could have a lot of fun together, just like we had in the old days. Under the pretense of taking him some new weights to try, I went over to see him when I knew Maggie wouldn't be home. I couldn't believe it, after I'd gone to all that trouble. Dave told me again that he was completely faithful to Maggie. He actually ordered me to leave!
Then he turned his back on me.
I don't think I really meant to hurt him, but his attitude was just too much for me to take. And I did work out. The weights I'd brought over as an excuse were just sitting there on the floor where I'd laid them. Just waiting to be used.
I must have hit him harder than I thought -- he wasn't moving. I backed out of the room and stopped to think. I knew I had to make sure I didn't take the fall for his stupidity. I mean, if I wasn't going to have some fun with him, I'd just have to go back to New York and find someone there. I'd make do with one of the rich men eager to snap up the treasure that Dave had neglected.
But first, I had to take care of my friend Maggie. She'd be unhappy when she found out Dave was gone. I really should help her.
It was easy. Having been in Maggie and Dave's home many times, I knew where everything was. The maid had left for the day and I ran upstairs unobserved to get one of Maggie's bracelets. I broke the clasp and dropped it under Dave's body. Then I made sure the door lock clicked when I left the house and went to lunch -- with my best friend Maggie.
Maggie told the police that she'd arrived at the Arboretum's duck pond to find me waiting. The two of us had decided to have a picnic lunch. No. No one had seen us. We had lunched alone. What had we talked about? Oh, just girl talk about men and their needs. She told them that after lunch she had gone home and found her husband on the floor -- dead.
In my interview with the police, I said I hadn't seen Dave that day and backed up Maggie's story about lunch. I made sure to keep lowering my head as though I weren't telling the truth. The police would be sure to think that I was trying to protect an old friend.
The whole town knew that Maggie had never relished going to the State capital to live the life of a politician's wife. All she wanted to do was stay in Genoa Falls and raise children. What they didn't know -- and I made sure not to tell them-- was that Maggie had told me at lunch that she had just changed her mind and decided to fully support Dave in his bid for public office. She felt if this was what he really wanted, she would help him as much as she could.
She'd only told me about her change of heart, so I figured Maggie had motive, means, opportunity -- and her bracelet on the floor where Dave lay dead. What more could the police want? It was just a matter of time till they charged her.
I had promised Maggie that I'd come over and sit with her again. Another one of my comforting calls to my beleaguered best friend. The police were already there.
Maggie was sitting on the sofa in the library, hardly able to lift her head and look at me. The police looked like they had finally put it together. I came into the library feeling quite satisfied until Detective Cutler turned to me and in an official voice started reading me my rights.
What? My rights?
Detective Cutler was saying something about them knowing all along that I had murdered Dave. People had been whispering all right. Whispering about Dave telling his best friend about my advances and how he'd rejected them. Whispering that Dave's secretary had overheard Dave's and my conversations in his office. Conversations in which Dave had asked me to leave him alone. But that was all circumstantial.
Yes, until the police had checked on a few things. Things like the fibers on Dave and Maggie's bed. Fibers from the dress I had worn on the day Dave was murdered. The bed I'd sat on when I was rifling through Maggie's drawer to get a bracelet to set her up? The maid had changed the linen and spread that day -- before I had arrived. I was a suspect.
That meant they could get a search warrant to check my bags. The bags where I'd stored my weights -- one in particular that had been used to help Dave see things my way, and hadn't. I'd thought storing it in my bags until I left town would be smarter than dropping it somewhere they might find it.
Dave had been a friend of Detective Cutler's. There was pain in his voice as he asked me, "Why'd you have to hit him twice? He'd have been alive if you hadn't hit him twice."
If I hadn't hit him twice, Dave would be alive. If I hadn't hit him... twice? But I'd only hit him once.
As the police led me past Maggie, she lifted her head and looked at me. Did I imagine it or was there a touch of humor in her sad eyes? She touched her handkerchief gently to them and said forlornly, "And I thought we were the best of friends."
Everybody in our little Pennsylvania town of Genoa Falls was talking about my best friend Maggie's murdered husband. What made it frustrating for me is that they were whispering among themselves about it. As her best friend, I needed to know what they were saying so I could set them straight.
Maggie was devastated. "Sandy, if it weren't for you," she sobbed on my shoulder, "I'd probably lose my mind. Everyone in town thinks I killed Dave. The police keep asking me questions. Thank God somebody believes me."
Maggie and I had been friends since our third-grade teacher placed us next to each other in class. We graduated from middle school together, fought over the same high school boyfriends, and forgave each other, many times. She mostly had to forgive me. I seemed to be the one who kept taking her boyfriends.
When I went off to college, Maggie stayed behind, but she wrote to me every month, even when I didn't always answer. She was my best friend, after all.
Even when Maggie married smart, well-to-do Dave Alton, we remained close. I lived in sophisticated New York, having made a name for myself as a personal trainer for the rich and beautiful, but I made frequent trips home. On one of those occasions, Dave asked me to help him get in top physical shape for the upcoming state senator's campaign. He wanted to make a good impression on the voters.
After workouts, we'd have fruit juice and talk about things in his office. At first I thought it was going to be like old times. I didn't realize that Dave meant exactly what he said -- he wanted to get into shape for the election. Dave informed me that he loved Maggie. He said he never meant to lead me into thinking he wanted more than my physical fitness expertise. He insisted we keep it professional.
Well, what did sweet, mousy, small-town Maggie have that was keeping Dave so loyal? It'd been no contest before when I wanted one of her boyfriends, and in high school, Dave had been one of them.
Then I realized -- all the times I'd approached Dave had been at his office. He was hoping to be elected to an important position and everyone was watching him closely. People did bug offices and Dave wouldn't want to be caught.
So I tried to work on him at his home -- get him to see that we could have a lot of fun together, just like we had in the old days. Under the pretense of taking him some new weights to try, I went over to see him when I knew Maggie wouldn't be home. I couldn't believe it, after I'd gone to all that trouble. Dave told me again that he was completely faithful to Maggie. He actually ordered me to leave!
Then he turned his back on me.
I don't think I really meant to hurt him, but his attitude was just too much for me to take. And I did work out. The weights I'd brought over as an excuse were just sitting there on the floor where I'd laid them. Just waiting to be used.
I must have hit him harder than I thought -- he wasn't moving. I backed out of the room and stopped to think. I knew I had to make sure I didn't take the fall for his stupidity. I mean, if I wasn't going to have some fun with him, I'd just have to go back to New York and find someone there. I'd make do with one of the rich men eager to snap up the treasure that Dave had neglected.
But first, I had to take care of my friend Maggie. She'd be unhappy when she found out Dave was gone. I really should help her.
It was easy. Having been in Maggie and Dave's home many times, I knew where everything was. The maid had left for the day and I ran upstairs unobserved to get one of Maggie's bracelets. I broke the clasp and dropped it under Dave's body. Then I made sure the door lock clicked when I left the house and went to lunch -- with my best friend Maggie.
Maggie told the police that she'd arrived at the Arboretum's duck pond to find me waiting. The two of us had decided to have a picnic lunch. No. No one had seen us. We had lunched alone. What had we talked about? Oh, just girl talk about men and their needs. She told them that after lunch she had gone home and found her husband on the floor -- dead.
In my interview with the police, I said I hadn't seen Dave that day and backed up Maggie's story about lunch. I made sure to keep lowering my head as though I weren't telling the truth. The police would be sure to think that I was trying to protect an old friend.
The whole town knew that Maggie had never relished going to the State capital to live the life of a politician's wife. All she wanted to do was stay in Genoa Falls and raise children. What they didn't know -- and I made sure not to tell them-- was that Maggie had told me at lunch that she had just changed her mind and decided to fully support Dave in his bid for public office. She felt if this was what he really wanted, she would help him as much as she could.
She'd only told me about her change of heart, so I figured Maggie had motive, means, opportunity -- and her bracelet on the floor where Dave lay dead. What more could the police want? It was just a matter of time till they charged her.
I had promised Maggie that I'd come over and sit with her again. Another one of my comforting calls to my beleaguered best friend. The police were already there.
Maggie was sitting on the sofa in the library, hardly able to lift her head and look at me. The police looked like they had finally put it together. I came into the library feeling quite satisfied until Detective Cutler turned to me and in an official voice started reading me my rights.
What? My rights?
Detective Cutler was saying something about them knowing all along that I had murdered Dave. People had been whispering all right. Whispering about Dave telling his best friend about my advances and how he'd rejected them. Whispering that Dave's secretary had overheard Dave's and my conversations in his office. Conversations in which Dave had asked me to leave him alone. But that was all circumstantial.
Yes, until the police had checked on a few things. Things like the fibers on Dave and Maggie's bed. Fibers from the dress I had worn on the day Dave was murdered. The bed I'd sat on when I was rifling through Maggie's drawer to get a bracelet to set her up? The maid had changed the linen and spread that day -- before I had arrived. I was a suspect.
That meant they could get a search warrant to check my bags. The bags where I'd stored my weights -- one in particular that had been used to help Dave see things my way, and hadn't. I'd thought storing it in my bags until I left town would be smarter than dropping it somewhere they might find it.
Dave had been a friend of Detective Cutler's. There was pain in his voice as he asked me, "Why'd you have to hit him twice? He'd have been alive if you hadn't hit him twice."
If I hadn't hit him twice, Dave would be alive. If I hadn't hit him... twice? But I'd only hit him once.
As the police led me past Maggie, she lifted her head and looked at me. Did I imagine it or was there a touch of humor in her sad eyes? She touched her handkerchief gently to them and said forlornly, "And I thought we were the best of friends."
# posted by Jeff @ 11:34 PM 
