Wilmington, NC 05 - Murder On The ICW

so she could see the work I'd done.
    Her fingers strayed nervously to the crown of her hair where she'd been wounded. A hair piece now covered the shaved spot and the stitches; her hair stylist had been coming to do her hair at first. Now she was able to wash it under the shower.
    We were both wearing low-rise, boot cut jeans with sweater sets, mine navy, Melanie's jade green.
    "In fact," she said brightly, "I think I'll just put it on the market. This lot has appreciated tremendously in value since I bought out here. I'll make a bundle."
    "But then you'd just have to spend your bundle on another house," I argued. "Waterfront property is out of sight. You of all people should know that. Okay, if that's what you decide to do, I will understand. But first let me show you what I've done before you make a decision. You said you didn't have time to see a thing that night when you got home. That you walked into the kitchen from the garage and the next thing you know you awoke in the hospital. So it's not like you have a vivid picture painted in your memory."
    No, I was the one who had the vivid picture stored in my brain. The brutality of Mickey's slaying had been shocking. I'd never forget it, the way he'd been knifed so viciously. Whoever had killed him had been angry, very angry. Yet cool enough to attempt to plant the knife in Melanie's hand and make it look like she was the murderer.
    I realized something then: our murderer was a complex individual.
    I went around to the passenger side and opened the door for Melanie, still wanting to baby her. Taking her hand, I said, "I can't believe you are showing houses so soon. Why, you can't even stand up without feeling woozy."
    "Once I'm on my feet, I'm fine," she declared. "And I can walk, Ashley. It's not like my legs were injured. It's just that I can't drive yet but the doc says maybe next week. Everyone's been so sweet, especially her. She's been dropping by your house to check on me. Can you imagine? House calls, in these days of HMOs.
    "And my clients! Well, they have been steadfast and loyal, Ashley. They believe in me. They know I didn't kill anybody. Let's attend services at St. James tomorrow together. I've been skipping church too much lately and I have a lot to give thanks for."
    "Sure," I said. "We'll go together, just like we always do." But I gave her face a searching look. This did not sound like Melanie. She was not generally sentimental.
    "Do you know that my clients have been picking me up and doing the driving while we look at houses?" Melanie continued. "And those sweethearts, Mae Mae and Lucy Lou -- well, they've been precious."
    Melanie continued, "So things are working out perfectly. And I think I've found just the right situation for them. They are getting along in . . .”
    "Melanie," I interrupted, "I know all that. Now let me tell you what I've done to your house. Willie has a grandson who is just starting out in the floor refinishing business so he was eager to get this job and he gave us a very good price."
    Melanie arched her eye brows approvingly. She loves a bargain as much as I do. I slammed the car door shut and we started along the curving walkway to her front door. Again the day was warm and sunny, although we were nearing the end of November. Next Thursday would be Thanksgiving and we hadn't even discussed where we were spending the day or what we were going to do. Then the Saturday after Thanksgiving was the Holiday Flotilla preceded by the Festival in the Park. And we'd promised Cam that we'd be guests on his yacht, The Hot Momma, for the parade.
    I steered Melanie up the steps to her front door. "Archie -- that's Willie's grandson -- ripped up and removed all the carpeting. And Melanie, your hardwood floors were in excellent condition, he simply refinished them." Melanie's ranch house dated from the seventies when it was standard practice to install hardwood floors in a new house.
    I inserted the key and opened the door. "See for yourself."
    We stepped inside. From the foyer we had a view in two directions, to the left into the living room and dining room, and to the right into the hallway and the bedrooms beyond. Melanie clapped her hands together and squealed with delight. "Oh, it's beautiful," she exclaimed.
    Hearing those words of praise did my heart good.
    "I was hoping you'd like what we did."
    "You've bleached the wood, haven't you?" she asked. "And painted all the walls white. It looks so clean. And so spacious. Where's the