Ax to Grind by Amelia Morgan Page B

for a bottle of wine.  Not a glass, mind you, but a whole bottle.  That was quite a bold move for eleven-thirty in the morning. 
    “Can I get you guys a drink?” Vanessa asked.
    Her slightly-slurred speech spoke volumes.  She was two sheets to the wind already.  That third sheet was no doubt on its way.   
    Connor squinted.  “It’s not even noon.”
    That didn’t faze Vanessa.  “It’s never too early to have a good time.”
    Connor turned her down.  “We’re working.”
    Vanessa shrugged her shoulders, then took a drink from the bottle.  “Your loss.”
    Connor got right down to business.  “Ms. McMillan, where were you between eleven and midnight last evening?”
    “Right here on my couch with my best friend,” Vanessa replied, holding up the bottle of wine.  She then looked over at an empty bottle on the coffee table.  “With his buddy, I mean.”
    Meg rolled her eyes.  This wasn’t a joke.  It was a murder investigation. 
    Connor continued.  “Were you alone?”
    Vanessa shook her head and raised the bottle again.  “No, I told you.  I was with my buddy.”
    Meg was getting fed up with the drunken theatrics.  She sighed.  “Are there any human beings that can verify your alibi or just inanimate objects?”
    Vanessa became exasperated.  “Look, I came home from the theater last night, drank myself silly, and then passed out on the couch.”
    “At least that’s your story,” Connor replied. 
    She rubbed the bottom of her neck.  “I have the kinks in my neck to prove it.  Let me tell you, there’s a world of difference between a sofa and a memory foam mattress.”
    “Ms. McMillan, this is serious business.  You’re a suspect in a murder investigation with ample motive and no verifiable alibi,” Connor explained. 
    Vanessa’s eyes opened wide.  “Murder?  Who has been killed?”
    “Are you saying you don’t know that Ethan Wakefield was killed last night?” Meg asked. 
    Vanessa gasped.  “I had no idea.  Who would do such a thing?”
    “That’s what we’re here to find out,” Connor said. 
    “You’re in the wrong place.  I didn’t even know he was murdered.  It’s ridiculous to think I could have done it,” Vanessa snapped. 
    “That’s what you keep saying.  Unfortunately, you have no one to verify your alibi,” Connor explained. 
    Vanessa began losing her temper.  She raised her voice.  “This is ridiculous.  I didn’t even have a reason to want him dead.”
    “That’s hard to believe, considering the amount of alcohol you said you’ve consumed in the last twenty-four hours,” Meg replied. 
    “I’m a writer.  I do my best work under the influence of red wine.  It’s a time-honored tradition amongst us creative types.  Look it up.  All the best have been fall-down drunks.  I’m just doing my part for literary history,” Vanessa spouted. 
    “Let’s get to the facts.  Ethan Wakefield canceled the show that you wrote.  There’s a motive for murder right there.  If that wasn’t enough, he bought the theater from your father, promising to keep things exactly as they were, then immediately went back on his word.  Ethan screwed over two people in your family.  Is that motive enough for you?” Meg asked. 
    “I told you, I was passed out drunk on my couch last night,” Vanessa insisted. 
    This line of questioning was getting nowhere.  Meg had to shake things up.  She knew just the way. 
    Meg reached into her purse and pulled out the ruby earring she found at the scene of the crime.  “Is this yours?”
    Vanessa stared long and hard at the earring.  “Woo, shiny.  I wish it was mine.”
    “Are you saying it isn’t then?” Meg asked. 
    Vanessa nodded, and then pulled her hair behind her ears, revealing a matching pair of pearl earrings.  “Nope.  That isn’t mine.”
    Connor stepped in.  “I can get a search warrant for this house if I want to.”
    Vanessa stared him down.  “I’m telling you;