Was it Really Murder?

"Oh. Hello."

"Hi, Rudbeckia."

"Rebecca. Please."

"Rebecca. Sorry."

"Did you need something?"

"I...I felt so bad about your mom, and never got a chance to see how you were afterward. You must have left with the ambulance?"

"My mother was dead when they put her into the ambulance."

"Yes. Yes, I remember...Well, either way, I didn't get a chance to tell you how sorry..."

"Don't be."

"Beg pardon?"

"My mother was a miserable human being, uh, was it Marilyn?"

"Madeline. Maddie."

"Whatever. My mother, not 'mom', by the way, Carol Jenson, made life a living hell for everyone around her. Maybe you didn't know her well?"

"We were acquainted."

"So you know that she was an angry, bitter, resentful, hateful, critical, self-absorbed bitch."

"Um...Carol did seem unhappy most of the times we got a chance to catch up. I'm sure you got the brunt of it, being the daughter. I know I catch the brunt of my mother's bad side."

"She had no good side, is what I'm saying. No matter what I accomplished, in school, in grad school, in my career, she never once acknowledged anything I did. You'd think an only child would get special treatment, but no."

"Rudbeckia? Uh, Rebecca? Are you...wait, don't cry. Listen, have you...have you talked to the police, last night or today?"

"This morning. On the phone. Yes."

"Did you say any of the things to them that you just said to me?"

"You think I'm stupid?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, then. Of course I didn't throw shade at my mother less than 24 hours after she offed herself. They're looking for suspects, thinking it was murder. But I know the truth. She did it to herself."

"Wait. You think this was..."

"Suicide? Yes, yes, Mandy, I can almost guarantee that this was suicide."

"It's Maddie."

"Whatever."

"Anyway, why would your mom kill herself? And in my shop? At my party?"

"My mother dangled the possibility of her death in front of my face all my life. Said I'd be sorry when she was gone. Said we'd all feel bad about the things we said to her, the times we didn't want to be anywhere near her. 'Sometimes I wonder if you would all be better off without me. Maybe I should just put us all out of our misery,' she'd say."

"Wow."

"My mother was physically miserable on top of her already miserable temperament. She had all sorts of pains and aches and incurable things going on that I eventually gave up trying to keep track of. All she did was complain. You stop hearing it after a while."

"Wait. Back up. If Carol actually killed herself, why on Earth would she choose to do it at my party? In my shop?"

"You sure do think of yourself a lot, you know that, Marion?"

"It's Maddie."

"Whatever. She killed herself there and then because...because she was evil? Or mean, at the very least? Certainly made her death more interesting, didn't it? Puts you in the suspect ring, because of where it happened, along with that bottle of poisonous tincture you just happen to sell. Puts my dad in the ring, because he was there, probably getting her drinks to cheer her up, take her pain away."

"Puts just about anyone at the party into the ring when you think about it."

"If my mother could make everyone miserable, even in her death, she'd go for it. Probably wanted everyone to squirm under the long arm of the law until they figured it out that she's her own murderer."

"I guess...I guess we need to sit this out and trust our police and their detectives to figure it all out."

"Ha! Those bozos. You can't find a shred of praise, online or in print, for their work in the last twenty years. Ever look up how many cold cases are sitting in filing cabinets and on the desks of your so-called 'detectives' on this island? It's frightening."

"Well, they certainly helped me out on some shady cases up in my neighborhood before this."

"Oh? You do a lot secret spy stuff yourself, do you?"

"I...um, I should go. I only wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I know how it feels, to be the only child, to not have a sibling to lean on in tough times. I'm sorry."

"Well, thanks, but don't be. I'm wrapping things up here, making sure she's all locked up until we figure out what to do with the shop, then getting back home."

"Oh? And where is that? Home, I mean?"

"8-Spruce, Tribeca."

"Oh wow! Yikes! Doesn't Taylor Swift or somebody like that live somewhere down there? Wow, holy moly, your rent must be a bundle and a half!"

"Mm."

"Well at least you'll finally get a little support from your mom, right? In her will, I mean?"

"You were right, uh, is it Maddie?"

"Yes! Good! It's Maddie! Thanks Rebecca! Ha! See? We finally have each other's names right! But wait. What was I right about?"

"You said you should go. And you were right."