The Happiest Day by Sandy Huth Page A

could have done to you…”  He
stopped and took a deep breath.  “Listen to me.  You were asleep all night.  I
woke you up and showed you the scene.  You’re distraught and confused.  The man
you loved is dead.”
    They heard the
wail of the siren pulling up the drive.  Rachel started and looked away from
Norris.  She was shaking again and thought about Peter’s stash of whiskey.  If
only she had more time to think about this.  If only she could talk to Peter or
even to Laurie, she could decide if this was the best thing to do.  It was just
her and Norris, though, with two dead bodies laying upstairs and the police in
the driveway.
    “Rachel,” Norris
said, desperation heavy in his voice.  “Rachel, what are you going to tell the
police?”
    She swallowed
hard.  “Peter dropped me off around midnight last night.  I took a sleeping
pill and knew nothing else until you woke me this morning.”
    Norris carried her
hands up to his lips.  “Perfect.  I love you, my sweet.”
    The police arrived
and Norris showed them upstairs to his bedroom.  Rachel stayed where she sat
with her now cold coffee cup.  Belatedly, she thought of Peter, Maryanne, and
Geoff and how they needed to be told that their mother had died.  Peter.  When
the story came out, he would know she was lying to the police about being
home.  No one knew better than him that she hadn’t arrived home until five this
morning.  She would need to talk to him before he talked to the police or
Norris.  Maybe she should just the police the truth now.  She wouldn’t want to
be caught in a lie later.  She realized immediately how ridiculous of a thought
that was.  She was going to be telling much bigger lies before this day was
out.
    “Miss Warner?”
    Rachel jumped a
little and looked up to see a police officer standing there with a serious look
on his face.  “Yes, sir?”
    He came into
Norris’ study, closing the door behind him.  “I’d like to take your statement
now.  Do you feel up to it?”
    “Where’s Norris?”
    “He’s upstairs
giving his statement to another officer.”  He sat down opposite her, pulling out
a small notebook.  “When was the last time you saw the deceased?”
    “The deceased?”
she asked dazedly.  “Do you mean Frederick?”
    “And Mrs.
Thornton,” he prompted.
    “Uh…should we wait
for Norris?”
    “No, it’s
customary for everyone to give separate statements.”  His eyes narrowed.  “Is
there a problem?”
    “No,” she said,
flushing.  “I’m sorry, I’m still in shock.  Norris woke me up just a little
while ago...I saw them dead.  It was horrible.”
    His face was
sympathetic.  “I know that it must have been.  If I remember correctly, your
parents were murdered about a decade ago.  This must be bringing back some
difficult memories.”
    Her eyes filled
with sudden tears.  “Yes.  I…uh…what was your question?”
    “When was the last
time you saw Frederick Stern and Helen Thornton?”
    “At the wedding
last night.  Helen was sitting with friends inside and…”
    “And?” the officer
prompted.
    “I went outside
and Frederick followed me.  We talked and that was the last time I saw him.”
    “Can you tell me
what you talked about?”
    Should she tell
the truth? she wondered wildly.  What was Norris saying upstairs?  “Not
really.  I don’t remember that it was anything specific.”  She bit the corner
of her lip.  “He…he became amorous and I was uncomfortable with it, being in
public like we were.”  She knew when Peter gave his statement, he would tell
what had happened on the terrace of the club.  “Helen’s son, Peter, came across
us and asked Frederick to stop.”
    “Peter MacGregor?”
the officer asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Did Stern stop?”
    “He did but he
wasn’t happy,” she answered, deciding not to elaborate.  “Norris came out then,
also, and asked Peter to take me home.”
    “Did he?”
    This was the
moment when she could