“How did you figure it out so quickly?” asked Deputy Stevens.
David sighed, “She really practically spelt it out for me when she was comforting Mrs. Cliff on the sofa. I didn’t consciously pay attention to it at the time as I was focused on the pleading in Mrs. Cliff’s eyes, but, subconsciously, I had noticed and it stayed in my brain. When Trin and Jonquil found the secret tunnel, that’s when I knew for sure. That, and include the fact that Mrs. Cliff’s own car was used, and, well, we had our culprit.”
“Naturally, when David first suggested it to me, I was thoroughly surprised and a bit angry. I was so sure that it was Dorothy Miller that I didn’t see that she had in fact moved on from George and was only staying around as a good friend.”
“How did Sarah practically spell it out to you?”
“The look of hatred on her face when Mrs. Cliff was begging both with her eyes, and later with her mouth, to find her husband’s killer. She must have thought no one was paying attention.”
“But you were, though subconsciously.”
David nodded, “And if she hadn’t made that face, well, I would have thought Dorothy did it, based on what we did find.”
“And the most surprising part is that we solved this in a day, and got a confession!”
“It’s not like Sarah really had long to plan, she saw an opportunity to kill a man she thought was unfit for her sister, and took it, though it took a whole week before she finally reached the overdose needed to kill him” pointed out Calvin.
“Though it did Molly more harm than good,” mumbled Jonquil.
“Yes, because she now lost both her husband and her sister,” sighed Trin sadly.
“A sister she thought she could count on.”
“Well, I think you five should head out and get some rest before the media descends on us like locusts.”
“Right, a good nap will do us all good,” remarked Calvin. They nodded and uttered their agreement as they rose.
“And thank you again, Detective Turner, we wouldn’t have been able to solve this mystery so quickly if it hadn’t been for your team, and Miss Franklin,” stated the sheriff as he shook David’s hand.
“Really, Louis, how many times do I have to keep telling you? Just call me Jonquil!”
Louis Richards smiled fondly at her, “I’ll do my best to remember it, Jonquil, but you might have to keep reminding me.”
“Well, as long as that’s the only thing you’ll forget, I think we’ll be good.” The group chuckled good-heartedly for a little bit before the sorrow of losing a great icon in the movie industry and a loving husband and father sank in again.
“Well, now that that’s out of the way . . . Stevens? Can you please escort Detective Turner and his group to their hotel and drive Miss . . . uh, Jonquil home?”
“Yes sir, with pleasure.”
“Thank you, sheriff.”
“No, thank you.” They shook hands again before the group departed. The drive over to the hotel was silent; each person was lost in their thoughts. But David nearly longed for another mystery, just to drive this one out of his mind. It had nothing to do with the dead body, or the ripples of the loss of the man, but the sheer hatred in Sarah’s eyes that bore through him. Especially once he revealed his suspicions and practically forced a confession out of her. Even though it had been all her fault, he would forever be blamed as the man to whom she owed all of her sister’s woes. That was an entirely new concept to him, one that he might not ever shake off.