Alex Harris 00 - Armed

down my cheek mid-sentence and I swiped it away with the sleeve of my sweater. I didn’t usually cry, but these were unusual circumstances. I didn’t usually scream a lot either, but I had done quite a bit of that too in the last twenty-four hours. “But if they think I killed her, then maybe I need to go over there under the guise of helping Mr. Poupée and ask a few questions. Once the police get their claws into someone, me ,” I emphasized, thumping myself in the chest with my thumb, “they will stop looking for other suspects. I need to find them someone else.” I just hoped with all my heart I wouldn’t be leading them straight to Mr. Poupée.
    “That’s right,” Millie agreed, the nodding of her head shaking her bell earrings. “I read that somewhere. Or maybe saw it on TV.”
    “You can’t just walk up to employees and ask them, hey, did you happen to kill Elvira last night? No? Good. Thanks,” Sam said.
    “Well, I haven’t exactly thought of a strategy yet,” I said, while I tossed a few more things into the L.L.Bean tote bag Sam had given me last Christmas. “Mom always tells us everything happens for a reason. If I can find the reason for her murder then I’ll find the person who did it.”
    “Yeah, sure. Mom is always right,” my sister said without much conviction.
    I reached into my purse and took out my keys. “Just don’t say anything to Mom about this.”
    “Why? Maybe she can help.”
    Once again I gave my sister a quizzical expression adding a mental eye roll.
    “Have you met Mom? Our mom? Remember her? Mabel Worrywart Harris. The woman who kept a safety gate around the stove until we were twelve. The woman who, until we graduated from high school, made us come in when the street lights came on.”
    “Yeah, okay, she’ll freak out.”
    “Right.”
    “Maybe you should just go home. Relax. Call Peter,” Sam suggested, referring to my boyfriend of almost two years.
    “Can’t.” I sat and pulled on a pair of boots. If this murder taught me anything it’s that if you live in New England and it’s winter, you better keep a pair of boots handy. “We broke up a couple of weeks ago. Or rather, I broke up with him.”
    Sam walked around the desk and stood in front of me. “Why? What happened? Why didn’t you say anything?” Her voice became very soft.
    “There’s nothing to say. The relationship didn’t work. So I ended it.” I put my hands firmly on Sam’s shoulders. “I’m fine with it. I’m actually happy about it.
    “Well, okay,” Sam said, somewhat bewildered. “You just found a dead body, you’re a prime suspect for murder, and now you tell me you broke up with a man you’ve been dating for almost two years. I think you need to go home and rest. Maybe have a bowl of soup or…something.”
    “No,” I said firmly. “I’m going to the factory but first I’m going to the police station. I just thought of something that might convince Detective Van der Burg I couldn’t possibly have killed Mrs. Scott.” I grabbed my tote bag and coat. “Just stay by the phone in case I need bail money.”
    Millie made the sign of the cross again as I walked out the door.

CHAPTER NINE

    The drive to the police station would take about fifteen minutes. I rolled down the window a couple of inches and let the cold air smack me in the face. I glanced in the rearview mirror and grunted. I should have touched up my makeup, but what the hell, the police had already seen me, and if they threw me in jail, I’d be looking a lot worse.
    All of a sudden my gusto vanished. I had an impulse to turn around and go home just like Sam suggested, pull the covers up over my head, and not come out until spring. But I didn’t want to be alone with the images of last night. I didn’t want to fall asleep for fear the mannequin from hell would still be in my psyche. And there was no longer Peter to keep me company.
    I didn’t know what I wanted in a mate but I had come to the realization a few weeks before that it wasn’t predicable Peter. When I thought about it, it seemed all my previous paramours had one thing in common—predictability.
    I pondered this latest revelation for a few miles and then it came to me. They weren’t edgy enough. All had been reliable and steadfast, but I liked to do things every once in a while just to shake life up. Stumbling onto a dead body overdid the shake things up a bit, but that didn’t count.
    Several years ago I went skydiving, much to the