Third Degree (A Murder 101 Mystery)

enjoying a glass of wine by the pool in their backyard. Jane offered me a chair and a glass of wine. I accepted both gladly.
    “I’m glad you came over,” Jane said in her usual gracious way.
    “Thanks for letting me drop in,” I said, clinking glasses with both of them before taking a drink.
    “We decided not to do anything this weekend,” Kathy said. According to Jane, Kathy was a master of home improvement and spent every weekend doing some kind of major renovation. “God knows, we need it. I taught summer school this year. Ugh.” Kathy taught physics at a high school in a neighboring town.
    “Amen,” I said. Jane asked me again why I was home so early. I gave her the Reader’s Digest version.
    Kathy shook her head. “And that is why I haven’t been to church in years.”
    Jane laughed. “No, the reason you haven’t been to church in years is that you don’t get up before noon on Sundays.”
    Kathy shrugged. “Touché.”
    Jane pushed a plate of cheese and crackers my way. “I’m glad you came to visit.” She looked at my laptop, sitting on the glass-topped table. “But why did you bring your computer?”
    I cut to the chase. “What do you know about WIMP?”
    Both Jane and Kathy did double takes. “WIMP?” they both said simultaneously. Neither of them seemed to have any idea about the organization, or they were extremely good liars.
    So it was more underground than I thought. If Jane, a good friend of Lydia’s, didn’t know about the organization, Lydia must have kept it very hush-hush. I opened my laptop and went back to the WIMP page. Jane’s blue eyes scanned the screen, reading some of the same things I had read just minutes before, her eyes growing wide as I recounted my tale from the night before. “What is this?”
    “This is one of the ‘volunteer activities’ that Lydia Wilmott is involved in,” I said, using finger quotes.
    Kathy sat back in her chair and looked at Jane. “I told you she was a whack job.”
    Jane shot Kathy a look. “I’ve known her a long time. Her intentions are good.”
    “So that’s why she goes around kidnapping women in distress?” Kathy said. “Give me a break.”
    Jane closed the computer. “Lydia had a very sad upbringing. She has a lot of issues that she’s still working out.”
    “Doesn’t give her the right to kidnap Alison,” Kathy said, her mouth full of cheese and cracker. I didn’t know Kathy well and my first impression had been tainted by the embarrassing discovery that Jane was gay and I didn’t know it. Kathy was taller than I was, and slightly imperious, amber-colored eyes peering out from behind tortoiseshell glasses. She signaled that she was not to be messed with by the way she carried herself. She was no-nonsense and sharp as a tack; at least I was sure about that. “And who doesn’t have issues?” Kathy added.
    I waited for Jane to continue, helping myself to some camembert and Triscuits, a combo that went delightfully with the wine they had served. I really needed to get out more. Apparently there was a whole big wide world out there that went beyond St. Thomas University and martinis. Too bad that being kidnapped was one of the reasons I was finding this out.
    Jane seemed conflicted. “I don’t know. I think she means well. And she’s a good friend.”
    Kathy coughed into her hand. “Fruitcake.” Obviously, this was a conversation that they had had more than once.
    “But back to WIMP,” I said. “Did Lydia ever mention it at all?”
    Jane gazed out at the pool. “A little. But I didn’t know it was called that and I didn’t know how they went about doing the work they did. I got the impression that what they did was very good ultimately. And Lydia funded everything with her own money. She was very passionate about helping the women. I’m not sure why.” Jane looked at Kathy. “But this does make sense. She always said that Carter didn’t appreciate how much time she spent volunteering. I just assumed that meant working on the silent auction for our church and the other things she did to help women. I didn’t realize that she was so deeply involved. I just figured she was overextended like the rest of us.”
    I mulled this over and decided that all of this information begged the question. “Did Carter abuse Lydia, Jane?”
    Jane shot a look at Kathy before answering. “I don’t think so.”
    “Not physically, anyway,” Kathy added. “You knew him, right?” she asked me.
    I shook my head.