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Creative Story : A Short Story

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With tears pouring down her face, Marlene pleaded, “Please, listen to me. I don’t know how the earring got in my mother’s house, but my husband will be furious when he learns you’re holding it.”
“Sorry, I can’t give it to you. We need to clear up a few other issues while I’m here.”
“Whatever you want to ask, go ahead, I’ll do anything to help find the killer,” Marlene said. “You do plan to give me that earring, don’t you?”
“Sure.”
“That picture belongs to my husband, if you don’t bring it back, he’ll come looking for it,” Marlene said, smiling. “I want to make sure this is clear, the night your mother died, you said your husband was in Charlotte on business, your son and daughter went with their friends, leaving you alone. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“You said, your mother invited you to dinner, what time did you arrive and what time did you leave?”
“I don’t remember the time. I didn’t think about keeping a record,” Marlene said, raising her voice and waving her hands.
“When we talked earlier you said your mother brought out a box containing your father’s things before dinner. Then you said it was after dinner. Now, which was it before or after dinner?” Detective Wallace asked.
“Mom found a box in the attic filled with my father’s belongings. She wanted me to take it home. I refused and said it belonged to her. I believe it was before dinner, but I’m not sure. What difference does it make?”
“When you left, was she upset?
“No.”
“Did you argue with her?” “I never

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