The police had been to question her, or perhaps she should call them
precisely what they are; Homicide Detectives. Although she was very sure
that they would come, and that it was certainly a routine part of any murder
investigation; to question everyone that could even be remotely
involved or would have any information relative to the investigation.
But, she had to admit that they certainly did not waste any time coming
round to see her. Alexis had maintained her calm and answered their
questions with an honest clarity. She simply told them what she herself
had been told by Abigail Vanderberry during that life-changing phone
call yesterday. Really? Was it only yesterday that all of this had
happened?
Yes, it was only yesterday as far as her part in this was concerned, but the murder of Bryce Meyers had taken place two days ago. Forty eight hours from meeting his bride-soon-to-become-his-wife at the altar, forty year old Bryce Alexander Meyers had been been the victim of a fatal close-up gunshot to the heart, dealt him by that same bride-soon-to-become-his-wife.
Alexis had met Bryce on several occasions when he and Abigail had come to her office to discuss and finalize the wedding/honeymoon plans that required them to make decisions as a couple. He made a good impression on Alexis; not because of his deep pockets, but because he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He wasn't an in-your-face type of guy. He was sort of quiet with impeccable manners and a soothing persona. Physically, he was tall and just average looking. He wasn't a very handsome guy, but he definitely possessed a confidence that was attractive in itself, and he had a strong magnetism about him that was almost palpable. He had never given Alexis any hint of a dishonest streak. This is exactly what she had told the two officers who had come to question her.
Detectives Mercer Holding and Artie Callahan had looked at her and then at each other with a smugness that bordered on arrogance. They were already to wrap this case up and charge Abigail with first degree murder. Detective Holding had snapped her laptop closed with a finality that she expressed in words as she stood to leave. She had said that it was probably an open-and-shut case, and as she looked to her partner for confirmation, she made the remark, " It's an elementary murder, my Mr. Holmes!" Detective Callahan nodded in agreement. He then added that "We have got your client, Abigail Vanderberry dead to rights. We've even got the smoking gun." I swear they both laughed as they prepared to leave.
Their enthusiasm seemed to be out of place and their eager-beaver attitude to see Abby behind bars was almost obscene. No matter the circumstances, a man was dead. He had family who loved him, ...and oh mercy...his poor mother! This was the first time Alexis had thought about his mother. Megan Meyers must be beside herself with grief. There was no imagining the anguish she must be feeling; the helplessness and the pain of knowing her son had been murdered.
Alexis had wished for the thousandth time that Abigail had told her more during that phone call. After Claudette had come over, and she had poured enough brandy down her throat to revive her into a semblance of reality, Alexis had tried to call Abigail back on both her cell and her land line phone. Of course there had been no answer on either, and surprisingly, the voice mail greetings had been erased. She had had no other chance to contact Abby, having seen news of her arrest on the morning news earlier today.
It appeared that the noise from the gunshot had been called in to 911 by an "anonymous" person who didn't wish to be identified, and when the police arrived they found Abby at the scene, sitting on the floor beside the body of the love of her life...her soul mate who was dead from the .9mm bullet that went straight through his heart.
She was still holding the gun in her hand. Sherlock and Holmes must have wet themselves with glee.
Yes, it was only yesterday as far as her part in this was concerned, but the murder of Bryce Meyers had taken place two days ago. Forty eight hours from meeting his bride-soon-to-become-his-wife at the altar, forty year old Bryce Alexander Meyers had been been the victim of a fatal close-up gunshot to the heart, dealt him by that same bride-soon-to-become-his-wife.
Alexis had met Bryce on several occasions when he and Abigail had come to her office to discuss and finalize the wedding/honeymoon plans that required them to make decisions as a couple. He made a good impression on Alexis; not because of his deep pockets, but because he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He wasn't an in-your-face type of guy. He was sort of quiet with impeccable manners and a soothing persona. Physically, he was tall and just average looking. He wasn't a very handsome guy, but he definitely possessed a confidence that was attractive in itself, and he had a strong magnetism about him that was almost palpable. He had never given Alexis any hint of a dishonest streak. This is exactly what she had told the two officers who had come to question her.
Detectives Mercer Holding and Artie Callahan had looked at her and then at each other with a smugness that bordered on arrogance. They were already to wrap this case up and charge Abigail with first degree murder. Detective Holding had snapped her laptop closed with a finality that she expressed in words as she stood to leave. She had said that it was probably an open-and-shut case, and as she looked to her partner for confirmation, she made the remark, " It's an elementary murder, my Mr. Holmes!" Detective Callahan nodded in agreement. He then added that "We have got your client, Abigail Vanderberry dead to rights. We've even got the smoking gun." I swear they both laughed as they prepared to leave.
Their enthusiasm seemed to be out of place and their eager-beaver attitude to see Abby behind bars was almost obscene. No matter the circumstances, a man was dead. He had family who loved him, ...and oh mercy...his poor mother! This was the first time Alexis had thought about his mother. Megan Meyers must be beside herself with grief. There was no imagining the anguish she must be feeling; the helplessness and the pain of knowing her son had been murdered.
Alexis had wished for the thousandth time that Abigail had told her more during that phone call. After Claudette had come over, and she had poured enough brandy down her throat to revive her into a semblance of reality, Alexis had tried to call Abigail back on both her cell and her land line phone. Of course there had been no answer on either, and surprisingly, the voice mail greetings had been erased. She had had no other chance to contact Abby, having seen news of her arrest on the morning news earlier today.
It appeared that the noise from the gunshot had been called in to 911 by an "anonymous" person who didn't wish to be identified, and when the police arrived they found Abby at the scene, sitting on the floor beside the body of the love of her life...her soul mate who was dead from the .9mm bullet that went straight through his heart.
She was still holding the gun in her hand. Sherlock and Holmes must have wet themselves with glee.
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