Chapter 36
After he left, I cleaned up the kitchen dishes, humming softly to fill the silence. There were some leftovers. I saved them for Perry incase he came in hungry, when he got in. I was worried about his driving back in this weather. My hope was that he would stay at Nova’s house until the worse was over. Sighing, I sent a prayer that the funeral wasn’t stressful and the he be kept safe for undue pain. At any funeral, it was hard saying goodbye. Melinda’s was tougher because of the unanswered questions and the pain of not being about to have a final moment of peace with her while she was alive. I think that’s what pained Perry so much—the knowledge that they were feuding bitterly before she died.
After changing into a modest set of pajamas, I sat on the deck, watching the clouds move slowly closer to the shore until it got too dark to see them. The winds were beginning to pick up speed, so I went back inside. I watched television for an hour, but the show didn’t hold my attention. Now that I was alone for the evening, I allowed the worries that I had put on the back shelf in my mind to slip into my present thoughts.
In the quiet house, I mused over the mystery of Melinda’s murder. I opened my laptop computer and began to write out my thoughts. I came up with more questions about her death than answers.
1) “Who took the keys out of my car and entered the house?” The police found my fingerprints on the car, Melinda’s and an unidentifiable smudged set.
2) “Why was Melinda at the Pirate?” One theory is that she came to talk to Perry but he wasn’t home. Since my car was, maybe she assumed that I was upstairs, and decided to talk to me… maybe to inquire about Perry.
3) “What was Melinda searching for?” My bedroom was pillaged. My jewelry case was opened and pieces of jewelry were all on the dresser. Her prints were on the case, so she had to be the one to open it. But why? Part of me thinks that she was plundering in my bedroom, because she thought Perry and I were lovers. Maybe she was looking for some proof of it. Or she could have been just plain nosy. Though I’m not a snoop, I know others who are. Melinda could have been one of them.
4) “Why was the ring in Melinda’s hand?” She clutched it during her death struggle, because the coroner found it grasped in her hand. I thought that maybe she was examining it when she either surprised someone or someone surprised her.
5) “Who attacked and killed her with a revolver that was similar to the one of mine that’s missing?” My next series of thoughts involved the person who harmed Melinda. I wonder if he or she followed her inside and waited for an opportunity to strike. But why kill her? The killer could have waited for her to get through with her search and leave, and then rob me blind. But instead a choice was made to kill her. She didn’t put up much of a fight. According to the coroner there were no defensive wounds on her arms or hands.
6) “Why the overkill?” The first strike is theorized to be at the left side of her temple. It knocked her down and then the killer pulverized her face over and over with the gun’s grip, using it like a hammer. Her features were beyond recognition. There was an estimated 18 strikes to her head and face. The first two killed her quickly. I can’t help but think that whoever killed her did it in a moment of blind rage.
A sound distracted me from my typing. I closed my laptop and went to investigate. The wind was howling, causing a lantern to roll back and forth across the deck. The rain flew in circles around the sliding glass door. I was so involved with my ponderings that I didn’t notice that the weather had gotten much worse. The lights flickered on and off, reminding me to get some candles and flashlights handy. I searched the kitchen and cupboard until I found some matches and four tapered white candles. In the utility room, I located two lantern type flashlights.
After placing the candles in various rooms, I went back into the kitchen fill a pitcher of water for drinking and the kitchen sink with water. I didn’t know if a power outage would affect the water supply. This was my first major tropical storm. I didn’t expect Wade to get out in this weather, but I knew he would be worrying. I picked up the phone to call and reassure him that I was fine. There was no dial tone. Wade had warned that the phone lines might be down during the storm.
My cell phone was on the kitchen table. So I went over to it, as I reached for the phone, the power died. A peal of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning caused me to look out the sliding glass door. I screamed in terror at the shape of a man looking in through the door at me. Another flash of lightning illuminated his face. There with the rain running like a river down his face was David with a cunning look on his face.
After changing into a modest set of pajamas, I sat on the deck, watching the clouds move slowly closer to the shore until it got too dark to see them. The winds were beginning to pick up speed, so I went back inside. I watched television for an hour, but the show didn’t hold my attention. Now that I was alone for the evening, I allowed the worries that I had put on the back shelf in my mind to slip into my present thoughts.
In the quiet house, I mused over the mystery of Melinda’s murder. I opened my laptop computer and began to write out my thoughts. I came up with more questions about her death than answers.
1) “Who took the keys out of my car and entered the house?” The police found my fingerprints on the car, Melinda’s and an unidentifiable smudged set.
2) “Why was Melinda at the Pirate?” One theory is that she came to talk to Perry but he wasn’t home. Since my car was, maybe she assumed that I was upstairs, and decided to talk to me… maybe to inquire about Perry.
3) “What was Melinda searching for?” My bedroom was pillaged. My jewelry case was opened and pieces of jewelry were all on the dresser. Her prints were on the case, so she had to be the one to open it. But why? Part of me thinks that she was plundering in my bedroom, because she thought Perry and I were lovers. Maybe she was looking for some proof of it. Or she could have been just plain nosy. Though I’m not a snoop, I know others who are. Melinda could have been one of them.
4) “Why was the ring in Melinda’s hand?” She clutched it during her death struggle, because the coroner found it grasped in her hand. I thought that maybe she was examining it when she either surprised someone or someone surprised her.
5) “Who attacked and killed her with a revolver that was similar to the one of mine that’s missing?” My next series of thoughts involved the person who harmed Melinda. I wonder if he or she followed her inside and waited for an opportunity to strike. But why kill her? The killer could have waited for her to get through with her search and leave, and then rob me blind. But instead a choice was made to kill her. She didn’t put up much of a fight. According to the coroner there were no defensive wounds on her arms or hands.
6) “Why the overkill?” The first strike is theorized to be at the left side of her temple. It knocked her down and then the killer pulverized her face over and over with the gun’s grip, using it like a hammer. Her features were beyond recognition. There was an estimated 18 strikes to her head and face. The first two killed her quickly. I can’t help but think that whoever killed her did it in a moment of blind rage.
A sound distracted me from my typing. I closed my laptop and went to investigate. The wind was howling, causing a lantern to roll back and forth across the deck. The rain flew in circles around the sliding glass door. I was so involved with my ponderings that I didn’t notice that the weather had gotten much worse. The lights flickered on and off, reminding me to get some candles and flashlights handy. I searched the kitchen and cupboard until I found some matches and four tapered white candles. In the utility room, I located two lantern type flashlights.
After placing the candles in various rooms, I went back into the kitchen fill a pitcher of water for drinking and the kitchen sink with water. I didn’t know if a power outage would affect the water supply. This was my first major tropical storm. I didn’t expect Wade to get out in this weather, but I knew he would be worrying. I picked up the phone to call and reassure him that I was fine. There was no dial tone. Wade had warned that the phone lines might be down during the storm.
My cell phone was on the kitchen table. So I went over to it, as I reached for the phone, the power died. A peal of thunder, followed by a flash of lightning caused me to look out the sliding glass door. I screamed in terror at the shape of a man looking in through the door at me. Another flash of lightning illuminated his face. There with the rain running like a river down his face was David with a cunning look on his face.
penned by Painter Lady at 9:58 PM
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