Families are messy - 9

“Chick-flick,” Casey muttered as he and Marcia left the movie theater late Sunday afternoon.

“Action movie. You have to admit it never let down for a second.”

“But a female secret agent makes it a chick-flick none the less.”

Marcia shook her head in disagreement. “Not even. It wasn’t all sweet and fuzzy and happy, happy goo.”

With a laugh he replied, “Okay, I’ll give you that. Now would you like to stop for something to eat?”

“Sounds like a plan. I need something to counteract that box of mints I scarfed down. There’s a nice salad place in the next block.”

“Male here, I don’t do salads.”

She grinned. “Try them, you might like them. Come on.” Linking her arm with his she tugged until he gave in and let her lead him to the restaurant.

He made her stop outside the door so he could peruse the menu posted beside it. “Okay, they actually know what meat is, even if it is in the salad. I’m game.”

After they’d been seated and ordered, Marcia rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin on her clasped hands as she stared at him. “I have to ask,” she said finally. “Are you upset that your wife’s divorcing you and just hanging with me to prove that you still have what it takes?”

“Now that was out of the blue, and the answer is an emphatic ‘no’. Things had been going bad for a while before she finally decided I was a tightfisted son of a bitch who didn’t deserve her any more.”  

“In other words you weren’t willing to support her extravagant ways? And before you ask she was at that party I worked last night, dressed to the nines and acting, excuse the expression, like her shit didn’t stink.”

“That’s Kathy,” he said with a tight laugh. “She’s the last of the big time spenders and I got tired of paying for everything and getting damned all in return.”

Marcia arched one eyebrow. “She didn’t even have the decency to put-out in exchange?”

“You are blunt. On rare occasions, yes she would but, well let’s just say we reverted to separate bedrooms a year or so ago so she could ‘get the sleep she really, really needed’.”

“Ouch. Okay, another nosy question. Was she playing around, or were you?”

“For damned sure I wasn’t, and as far as I know neither was she. She wouldn’t have risked my divorcing her because she’d loose any chance of getting her hands on my money.”

She nodded. “Alright that’s one,” she said just as the waitress arrived with their meals.

Once she’d left Casey asked, “One what?”

“One person who might profit by your death.”

“Hang on there; you’re still doing a Miss Marple on me, trying to convince me those weren’t just accidents. And for your information Kathy stands to come out alright if not wealthy once the divorce is final.”

Marcia nodded. “But what if you died before it was? I’d presume she’s in your will as the major beneficiary. I can see her getting royally pissed because you cut her off, filing for divorce, and then realizing she’d come out on the short end in the long run.”

“But I’m changing my will.” Casey frowned for a second. “Speaking of which I have to remember to stop by my lawyer’s and sign it.”

“That might be a good idea.” She stopped talking and dug into her salad, looking at him. “You going to eat that or let it sit there hoping it’ll turn into a steak?”

“I’m eating, I’m eating,” he replied, suiting his actions to his words. “Hey, this isn’t too bad.”

She grinned. “Told you.”  

They ate in companionable silence until both of them had had enough. Then Marcia returned to the previous conversation.

“I know you don’t like the idea, but face it, two potentially fatal ‘accidents’ in so short a time span might only be coincidence, or someone could want you dead. Who stands to profit if that happens, other than your soon-to-be ex if you die before you sign your will.”

“I suppose, playing along with your game, my family. But none of them are hurting financially so why go to such lengths to get a bit more?”

“A bit more? Like a couple of thousand each?”

Casey grinned. “Now I get it, this is all leading up to your finding out if I’m as rich as Croesus.”

“Well are you, because that would be a hell of a motive for murder? Not that I care personally. Money’s not that important in the grand scheme of things.”

“I’m not poor by a long shot but honestly I can’t see anyone wanting me dead for what they’d inherit.” Picking up his coffee he took a long drink of it before asking, “Can we just drop this?”

“Sure. I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business anyway.”

“I’m not upset with you,” he told her, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “I just think you’re letting your imagination run away with you. I’ll admit it’s all a bit weird, but that’s all it is, weird coincidence.”