Murderous Intent

7. Annabelle

"You could say there was some tension between them, but not really in my opinion," Unique was admiring a navy blue cocktail dress with a silk cardigan paired with it that was hanging on a rack to her left. The look in her dark eyes told me she was itching to reach for her wallet and the fabrics to purchase it.

"I didn't notice anything out of the norm between them in my opinion," I had written down some items that I needed to pre-order for a wedding. A lady named Bridget emailed us and requested our services. She fell in love with the formal wear on the website and contacted our decorative department in hopes that we could cater to her wedding. It's in January, which is plenty of time for us to get some much needed things beforehand.

"Martin was talking with the guys, even heard one of them complimenting him on his new wife like she was a shiny new car," Unique rolled her eyes at the hormonal based compliment. "Bet you every single one of them wet their pants after realizing Martin's shiny new toy killed him."

"We don't know for sure if she had done it," I jumped to Claire's defense.

"Oh, please! Just like in the movies, it's always the wife if not the mistress!" Her laugh was cynical.

"Well we won't know anything until they inform his family," Anne had praised Gavin, Unique and I for going into the police station to give our versions of how things were at the gathering. We were one of the few people at the gathering that didn't have too many drinks that could make it hard for us to recall little details. I'm not sure who all went to go speak with the police, but I couldn't help myself from yawning when Genevieve posted a lengthy paragraph to spread awareness of Martin's passing and her condolences.

"You saw that, too?" Unique was floored when I brought up the fakeness in the Facebook post. "She hated him and only smiled in his face so she could get a discount before renting his event center."

Sadly, that was probably the only reason why Genevieve acted so sweet. When I was in Claire's apartment two days ago, I had noticed the flowers, balloons and other items that showed just how sorry people were for the loss of her husband. One of the bouquet of flowers came from Genevieve with an insensitive "You're free" note attached to it.

As I thought back on the two worded red card after returning home from work, I frowned, wondering if Genevieve secretly despised Martin's guts because she knew the true nature of their marriage or was just a spiteful person.

Ella was crawling on top of the rocks in her spacious tank, burrowing herself, happily, into the sand surrounding the heated area thanks to the lights placed above her head. She quickly grown accustomed to having no stinger, my guilt for taking it away began to fade as the days go by.

After getting home and making some tea, I had turned on the news. It's been two days and nothing relevant to Claire or Martin was announced. If what Anne had said confirmed the police's theory that she was the number one suspect, they would have a warrant for her arrest out and quickly used. They would've been found her body in the diningroom of her apartment and used the evidence there to tie up the lose ends of their case.

I had just finished my tea when someone knocked on my door.

Slipping into my robe, I tied the strings around my waist and took slow strides. I was sore from running like a lunatic on the treadmill. Joseph believing that I was still trying to take flight on it made a small smile appear on my face.