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Marcy is completely silent, but if possible, she turns even paler. Her skin seems to have lost all color at all, and she looks like she’s going to faint.
“We went to see if we could find any evidence that would help clear Neil’s name,” I add. “Because he wasn’t at the mine when Sammy died. He was going to meet Sammy. They were going to talk about you,” I added. “Sammy liked you.”
At this, Ted’s eyes soften, and I get the feeling that this is something he already knew. He understood how Sammy felt about him, and I’m guessing that Ted probably felt the same way.
“Ted’s not gay!” Marcy screams, stomping her foot. “He’s not fucking gay!”
“No, but I am bisexual, and I wish you’d stop forgetting that,” Ted says, looking at his wife carefully. “That’s never been a secret, but you’ve always been really strange about it. You’ve never wanted me to talk about that side of me. What happened that night?” He asks. Then he turns back to me and Neil. “What about the earring?”
“It was Marcy’s earring,” Neil says. “She was there that night. She shot Sammy and ran off. The sheriff assumed it was me and rearranged the crime scene to make it look like he’d seen me do it. He knew I was the one coming to meet Sammy. Marcy here just beat me to it. Isn’t that right, Marcy?”
She shakes her head, and now tears are streaming down her face. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her, but damn, she looks even guiltier than I thought she would.
“You don’t understand,” she says.
“Marcy?” Now it’s Ted’s turn to be pale.
“Please,” she turns back. “You don’t understand, Ted. You have to understand. He was going to steal you away from me.”
“That’s why you wanted to get married so fast?” Ted whispers. “You told me you were pregnant and that you lost the baby. That was a lie?”
Marcy doesn’t say anything.
“All this time, you told me you stayed home sick that night and that’s why you didn’t go to the game. Really, you were planning to kill my best friend?”
“I didn’t mean to kill him!” She shouts suddenly. “I just wanted to scare him away!”
“Like you wanted to scare Neil today,” Ted asks, looking down at the gun. Then he holds it up, but it’s not pointed at me or Neil.
It’s pointed at Marcy.
She suddenly seems to real
ize what’s happening.
“Please,” she says, holding her hands up. “You have to understand.”
“Tell me if it’s true,” he says.
“Ted, let me explain.”
“Tell me if it’s true,” he says again.
“I didn’t mean to do it!” She yells. “He was going to steal you away from me! You were supposed to be with me, not with that-“
But she’s cut off from finishing her sentence because Ted places a careful bullet in the center of her forehead and she slumps to the ground. Then he looks at me and Neil.
“You heard it,” he says slowly. “A confession.”
“We heard it,” I whisper.
“Finley, will you please call the police and let them know that I’m ready to be arrested for the murder of my wife?” He asks carefully, and it’s the saddest, strangest, most horrifying thing anyone has ever asked of me. He looks at her body, but then he closes his eyes, and he sits down on the center of my couch and places his hands on his lap. He’s still holding the gun, but he seems to realize this and he hands it to Neil.
“Here, Neil. You hold onto this for me, will you?”
I can tell that Neil is hesitant to touch the gun – fingerprints and all of that – but he takes it and sets it down.
“Finley?” Neil says.
