What a nightmare. What a complete, freaking nightmare. Of course, if Peter was honest with himself--something he'd been avoiding for the past few months--his life had become a freaking nightmare ever since he'd stupidly gotten involved with Mavis Schuyler. Now with Ron dead, Peter didn't know what was going to happen next but he had a sinking feeling that Mavis was going to dig her talons into him even deeper.
"So who do you think did Schuyler in?" Jim Waterson asked. Peter was in the break room at the station, exhausted from the night behind him but reluctant to go home. He knew that Chelsea would be waiting up for him with a million questions to fire at him before he was all the way through the front door. Questions he either couldn't answer or didn't want to.
"No clue," Peter replied.
Jim looked at him shrewdly. Jim had been on the force longer than Peter and little got past him. "Probably the wife. She's in line to become even wealthier than she is now."
"Possibly," Peter replied. He could feel pools of sweat forming under his arms. They were going to charge him extra cleaning fees when he returned his tux but the thought that Jim knew about Peter and Mavis was making him sick. It wasn't like they'd been all that discreet and if anyone thought about it for more than a minute or two, Peter made just as likely a suspect as Mavis did.
"Of course," Jim added, "rumor has it that Mavis had a boyfriend on the side. It's possible that either her boyfriend took care of Ron or the boyfriend's wife did." Jim shot Peter a penetrating glance. "If the boyfriend was married, that is."
Damn. Jim knew. And if Jim knew, more people in Schuyler Square knew too. Peter's only hope was to play dumb. "I need to go home," he said, getting to his feet. "It's been a long night."
"Yeah," Jim nodded. "You should get home and talk to your wife. I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about. Say hi to Chelsea for me. Tell her she looked very...nice tonight. Very festive."
Jim didn't add that Chelsea also looked very desperate but Peter sensed that he wanted to. He decided that he'd never really liked Jim. The guy was a know-it-all and a detective wannabe in a one horse town. Not a good combination. "I'll do that."
"And Peter," Jim said when Peter was almost out the break room door, "get a good night's sleep yourself. You look like you've been through the wringer. Almost like--forget it."
"Almost like what?" Peter asked. "What were you going to say?"
"Nothing, really. Just that it was almost like you were then when Ron Schuyler bought the frm."
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