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“There is no statute of limitations on murder,” answered Christie.
“Carole Lee said that you reported that Ms. Pritchard had ended her relationship with your now husband earlier that day,” said Lori. “I have to wonder: if you’d been at your brother’s funeral, how you might know that?”
“Pandora and I were close. She told me she was going to end it with him.”
Mrs. Simmons squirmed in her seat. She was becoming uneasy.
“I think you should leave now,” said Mr. Simmons.
“We can do that,” said Christie, “but I’m a retired cop. If I go into town, my guess is I’ll be able to get someone to listen to me and then they’ll start asking questions.”
“No need for that,” said Lori. “We have friends at MCU—the Major Crimes Unit—I think they’d jump at the chance to hold to account whoever is responsible.”
“I didn’t do it,” repeated Frannie Simmons.
“I don’t think you did,” said Christie, looking pointedly at Rupert before looking back at Frannie. “But I think you know who did, and I think you helped him cover it up.”
“What time did you say you saw Ms. Pritchard?” asked Lori.
“About five-fifteen. I asked her if she wanted me to make her some dinner. Pandora told me there’d be no need as Carole Lee was coming by about six, and she would be bringing something.”
Teddy nodded. “She brought lasagna. She dropped it when she saw Pandora. She’s never been able to see, smell, or taste lasagna again.”
“You did it, didn’t you Rupert?” accused Christie in a very flat voice. “You killed her and got Frannie here to help you cover it up.”
“You can’t prove anything,” snarled Rupert, standing up and looking as though he wanted to punch them.
“Shut up, Rupert,” hissed Frannie.
Teddy stood and put himself in harm’s way.
“No need, Teddy,” said Christie as she calmly pulled her trusty SIG out of the holster she wore in the small of her back and pointed it at Rupert. It was one of the reasons she rarely wore anything tucked in. “Rupert Simmons, I’m making a citizen’s arrest and will ask that you be brought up on charges of murder in the first degree.”
Frannie stood up. “You can’t do that.”
“I’m pretty sure my SIG and the statutes say I can.”
Rupert shook his head, staring at his wife and bristling with anger. “Good god, if it’ll get me away from you, it would be worth going to prison. I swear nothing there would be worse than listening to you harp and complain for what’s left of my life. It’ll feel like a damn vacation.”
Sitting down, Frannie looked defeated. “You don’t know that it wasn’t done in the heat of the moment.” She looked at her husband. “You always said you only meant to intimidate her. You said it just sort of happened.”
Rupert said nothing to Frannie but turned to Christie. “Now what?”
“Now I get Teddy here to call the cops. Tell them a decorated, retired Baltimore homicide detective has arrested Rupert Simmons for the murder of Pandora Pritchard, and Frannie Simmons as an accessory to the murder.”
“What?” screeched Frannie as Rupert cackled. “Why me? I didn’t kill her.”
Christie shook her head. “No, but you benefitted from her death, helped Rupert get away with it and most likely opened the safe so you could steal Pandora’s money.”
Teddy grinned. “That is one phone call I’d be happy to make.”
It didn’t take the cops long to arrive and put Frannie and Rupert in cuffs. Christie agreed to work with the cops and said that the Mystery Writers’ Murder Club would lay out the facts and give affidavits, as would Teddy and Carole Lee.
Once back at Carole Lee’s, Teddy ordered pizza for everyone.
“How did you know?” asked Lori. “I mean I suspected, but I think you knew all along.”
“The floors were pretty much pristine, except for the spilled coffee, the open window and the lack of any footprints outside the window,” said Christie. “Did anyone check the coffee to see if it was poisoned?”
