A Willing Murder (Medlar Mystery 1) - Page 93

Arthur smiled in triumph. “I knew we were like-minded.” He wheeled himself back a few feet and took a thick envelope off a table. When he turned back, he seemed to have a spring in his wheels.

He handed the envelope to Kate, who passed it to Jack, who handed it to Sara.

She held it aloft. “Okay. You’ve given me your Great American Novel. Now tell us what we need to know.”

Arthur’s face changed from cocky to sadness. “I was really upset when I heard about Verna and her daughter. For the last twenty years I’ve wondered what happened to them. It wasn’t until you guys found them and restarted the town gossip that I realized that I knew everything. I just don’t know the specifics.”

“What does that mean?” Jack asked.

“When it all happened, it made sense that Verna had run away. But I thought she’d at least send me a postcard, but she didn’t. That really hurt. Now I’m sorry for my anger. I understood, but—”

“You understood what?” Sara blurted out.

“Still impatient, aren’t you?” Arthur seemed to be amused. He looked at Jack and Kate. “When we were in school, I tried to talk to her, but she was always too busy.” He turned back to Sara. “Tell me, do you remember me at all?”

“No.”

Arthur grinned. “Thought not. I’ve never been someone who attracted women. ‘Easily forgettable.’ That’s what some girl in high school called me. And that was before this happened.” He nodded toward his legs. “Fell off a big company’s roof. It was their fault, so their insurance paid me millions. Now women think I’m—”

Sara held up the envelope. “If you want this read by someone in the publishing world, then stop with the ‘poor me’ act and tell us about the Morris women.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up and he looked at Jack. “See what your grandfather had to put up with? She always did have a salty tongue.” He looked at Kate. “By the way, who are you?”

“Randal’s daughter, Kate.”

“Good lord! Now, there was a boy who was loved by everyone. I remember—”

Sara stood up, loudly dropped the heavy envelope on the coffee table and said, “Let’s go. He doesn’t know anything.”

“I know who killed them and why,” Arthur said complacently.

When Sara sat back down, Arthur smiled as though he’d won a tug-of-war game.

“Would you please tell us?” Kate asked softly.

“When I say I know ‘who,’ I mean that I know everything except the man’s name. And when I say I know ‘why,’ I know it all except how they were connected.”

“In other words,” Sara said, “you don’t know—”

Kate put her hand on her aunt’s forearm. “We’d like to hear anything you can tell us. Mind if I pour some sodas? And what’s in the box? Cookies?”

“Yes. Help yourself.” He smiled sweetly at her, then looked at Sara. “She’s as well mannered as Randal, isn’t she?”

Sara glared at him.

Arthur looked at Kate. “You need to find out who Cheryl’s father was. You find him and you’ll find the murderer. Verna came back to Lachlan because of her love for him and she stayed here because of her hatred of him.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair, smugly smiling at their rapt attention. “I think the murders happened because young Cheryl was pregnant with somebody’s baby.” He was pleased at the shock on their faces.

He turned away to look out the window. “Those women had too many secrets. Verna with the love/hate relationship that ruled her life, and that beautiful girl who wanted to be somebody she wasn’t. When the secrets were revealed, it’s no wonder somebody exploded.”

When he looked back at them, his eyes seemed to have aged. “Back then I was full of self-pity for what had happened to me. Little did I know how good I had it. I was getting around on two canes, and I had a specially designed car that I could drive. I was quite mobile. But I wasn’t an example of virility like young Jack here, so I wallowed in my misery.”

He looked at Sara. “I’m telling you this to explain why I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t believe that other people had problems because I was so involved in my own. When I heard about one, I turned away. I didn’t listen. I...” He let out a breath. “When I saw that poor girl throwing up, all I wanted was to get away from her. I realized that she was pregnant and she hadn’t even turned sixteen. But I wasn’t concerned about who and why. I never even thought of actually helping.”

For a moment he looked at his hands. “I guess you want to hear about that day when I found out.”

“Yes,” Kate said. “We would like for you to tell us everything.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux Medlar Mystery Mystery
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