Alibis and Amethysts by Sharon Pape Page B

to it,” she said. “I asked the ladies to stop by because they were friends with Peggy
     since the day she moved here. I’m hoping they might know something that can help us.”
     Her tone had a “so there” in it aimed squarely at Jaye.
    Jaye was just relieved that the get-together had a purpose and that stress hadn’t
     addled her friend’s brain after all.
    “We’ll do our level best to help,” Esther said.
    “Yes, indeedy,” Edith seconded the pledge.
    During the chitchat, Jaye had been having trouble staying awake, but the promise of
     useful information immediately gave her a second wind. “What was Peggy like when she
     first got here?” she asked, as a dozen other questions sprang into her head, jockeying
     for air time.
    “Not so different from the day she died,” Esther replied.
    “She was rarely ever what I’d call ‘happy,’” Edith added.
    “But there were times she was less unhappy, if you know what I mean.” Esther again.
    Edith nodded in agreement. It seemed to Jaye that the sisters were purposely taking
     turns. If so, it was probably a good thing they hadn’t been born triplets, or it would
     have been a whole lot tougher for them to keep track of whose turn it was.
    “Did she ever talk about her past or say anything that would explain her unhappiness?”
     Sierra asked.
    “No, that was one of the strangest things about her,” Esther said. Apparently a nod
     counted as a turn in the Hinklemeyer rule book.
    “I don’t recall her ever talking about her past,” Edith added.
    “Whenever the conversation turned in that direction she’d clam up.”
    “Like she couldn’t bear to talk about it,” Edith said, picking up the thread.
    “Or she was afraid to.”
    “And there were no photos in her house, you know.”
    “Not a one.”
    “It was like she had no family or friends.”
    “No one she wanted to remember,” Esther concluded.
    “Did she seem especially nervous back then?” Jaye asked, chasing down an idea. “More
     than you might expect someone to be after a big move?”
    Edith took a moment to respond. “Now that you mention it, I think she was kind of
     jittery those first few months.”
    “But she did mellow out some after that.” Esther leaned closer to her sister, who
     was sitting barely two inches away, and whispered loudly, “I think we should tell
     them about last Thursday.”
    “Yes, you’re quite right.” Edith turned back to Jaye and Sierra. “We went into her
     store to buy some jelly donuts and—”
    “We would have bought some from you as well,” Esther interrupted, “if you made them.”
    Sierra assured her she wasn’t insulted.
    “Anyway,” Edith said, reclaiming her turn, “we offered her a free match from our new
     service.”
    “And she got so nasty—she told us to keep our
damn
noses out of her business and her life.”
    “Can you imagine that?”
    “We were so taken aback we almost dropped the jelly donuts,” Esther said, still clearly
     troubled by the incident.
    Jaye and Sierra spent the next half hour peppering the twins with questions, but they
     learned little else of interest except that Peggy had dated art gallery owner Adam
     Grayson for close to a year before it all went sour a couple of months back.
    “Do you know who broke it off?” Jaye asked, thinking that love, or the loss of it,
     was often at the heart of murder.
    “According to Peggy, he did,” Edith said, “but she really didn’t want to talk about
     it.”
    Esther shrugged. “What else is new?”
    “Same old, same old,” Edith agreed.
    At that point Sierra redeemed herself in Jaye’s eyes by thanking the twins and promising
     to start making jelly donuts as soon as she perfected a recipe for them. Edith was
     particularly pleased by this news, requesting powdered sugar instead of granulated.
     Esther, of course, concurred.
    “Any thoughts?” Sierra asked. The twins had left, and she and Jaye were sitting at
     the kitchen table sipping cups of