iMurder 21: She’s Got Legs

Chinatown Hunt 2004

Something was gelling- with Jelly’s murder, with that guy Joe that Beth didn’t even know, heck, even with the poobar incident.

There was a long line at Delfina’s of folks waiting to get seated, and the nattily dressed twentysomethings at the bar were getting noisier with each mojito they drank.

“I guess we should free up this table.” Mac said, pouring more wine into her glass and his.

“No, wait, it’s like a word you forgot, it’s right on the tip of my tongue.”

Mac scooped up the rest of his asparagus, polished off his filet mignon, and then sat back and looked squarely at her. “I’m glad you met up with me tonight.”

“Sh… I know something… I recognize someone… it’s, it’s…” She couldn’t consciously of course. Once you try to remember, to backtrack your thoughts, you’re mired instantly.
Beth sighed. “OK I can’t remember what it was. Yes, I guess I’ve forgiven you. I just had to get used to the idea, of you and Jelly.” The moment she said that she pushed back her food.
“Beth… it’s not like that.”
“Yeah, well, it’s kind of gross.”
“She’s dead for Christ’s sake.”
“Yeah, well, it still… unsettles me. We were good friends. You worked with her. You never thought I may want to know?”
“I guess I tried not to think of it. I didn’t really until she died and I started remembering all of these things about her.”
“That makes sense.” Beth looked into her wine and swirled it, watching the “legs”- the liquid scooting down the inside walls of the glass. Legs. Legs and walking, getting around, seeing things, witnessing things. Witnessing… seeing something you shouldn’t have. Jelly saw something, she shouldn’t have. At that party, with the Goth Guy.
“It’s Tom.” She said. “He’s the serial killer.”

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