Everybody in the living room had been civil at first, but that changed after Kathleen accused George Anderson of being a murderer.
“Kathleen!” Elliott yelled in shock.
Nadia stood up. She looked furious.
“How dare you say that!” she screamed.
“Somebody had to have killed Freeman,” Kathleen said. “And that somebody was George Anderson.”
“THAT IS NOT TRUE!!” Nadia screeched, throwing her purse to the floor.
“Who else would it be then?” Kathleen asked her. “James Stewart? The funny man with an engagement plan? Kevin Howard? The man that is much too shy to even talk to people? Jason Sullivan? The kind man that deeply loves his family? Randy Jenkins? The hard-working man who enjoys helping people? Michael Cruz? The Christian with a strong faith in God?”
Nadia looked as if she were about to explode.
“It was none of them. It was George Anderson. The greedy fat cat that doesn’t care if poor people suffer,” Kathleen continued. “And we all know that Anderson hates Freeman. Seeing him join the party made him furious. So he stole Elliott’s gun and killed him.”
“Kathleen!” Elliott shouted. “That is enough! It is not right to point fingers in people’s faces. Especially not about being a murderer.”
“I agree with her,” Katy said.
Everybody stared at her in disbelief.
“Katy?” Mary asked. “You too?”
“Anderson has the perfect motive for killing Freeman,” Katy said. “And he had the perfect amount of hate for him as well.”
“George is not a killer!” Nadia yelled.
“How do you know that?” Kathleen said.
“Because I know that my husband wouldn’t do such a thing!”
“Well,” Katy said. “If he didn’t kill Freeman, then who do you think did?”
Nadia thought for a moment.
“Stewart,” she said.
Casey jumped.
“What?!” she yelled.
“Stewart did not seem happy at all about Freeman showing up here,” Nadia said. “And I know why.”
“Why?” Casey asked.
“I already know that he sold a boat to Freeman. And I know that Freeman didn’t pay it.”
“How’d you know about that?”
“He only complains about it all the time. You should’ve heard him at the last Fourth of July celebration.”
“I know,” said another voice. “I was there.”
The voice came from Lucille, Victor Jenkins’ wife.
Everybody looked at her strangely.
“He did not sound pleasant,” she said.
“And?” Nadia asked.
“And I also think it was Stewart.”
Casey’s jaw dropped in horror.
“Great,” Nadia said. “At least somebody has some sense.”
“James did not kill anybody,” Casey said.
“Then who do you think did, Casey?” Nadia asked.
Casey just stared at her, grimly.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know who the killer was. I wasn’t in the basement, so how could I know?”
Casey walked out of the living room and sat at the dining room table.
“It was not Stewart,” Kathleen said. “It very well was Anderson. And any person with any amount of logic should know that. Apparently, Nadia has no logic at all.”
She moved closer to Nadia, who looked ready to knock her to the ground.
“You’re husband is a murderer,” Kathleen said, pointing her finger at her. “Like it or not. And when he’s arrested and taken to prison, I won’t be sorry.”
And she walked back to the couch, sat down, and did not say another word.600Please respect copyright.PENANAbegQw6b0Mb