Trust Me on This - Jennifer Crusie [15]
“Yep,” Alec said. “It was great. In fact, my aunt and I are still arguing about the third murderer. Nobody knows who it was.”
“Sure they do.” Dennie sipped her water. “It was Macduff.”
Alec shook his head. “It couldn’t be. Macduff was one of the good guys. Why would he kill Banquo?”
“He didn’t,” Dennie said patiently. “He put out the light so Banquo’s son could escape. It’s obvious.”
“What is obvious is that it was Lady Macbeth,” Alec said. “End of question.”
Dennie shook her head in disgust. “Are you out of your mind? It couldn’t have been Lady Macbeth. She was back at the castle throwing a party. Did you actually read this play?” She glared at him, so caught up in the conversation that she forgot to be charming, and he gaped at her.
Alec took a minute to answer her because she was having an unexpected effect on him. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but still.… She had lightning in her eyes, and an incredibly lush mouth, and she was bright, very bright. It was hard to believe that she was working with Bond. If he hadn’t seen them together twice now … Alec tried to concentrate on the argument to lull her into a false sense of security, but her eyes kept distracting him. “How come you know Macbeth so well?”
Dennie narrowed her eyes. “I did my senior honors thesis on it. Now stop changing the subject. How could Lady Macbeth possibly be the third murderer?”
Alec tried to look dumber than usual. “She could have snuck out before the party. There was time.”
“How?” Dennie shook her head at him, clearly amazed. “She was Queen of Scotland, and it was a state banquet. It’s not like they were having the Macduffs over for hot dogs. She could not have snuck out and stabbed Banquo. Where is your mind?”
“Hey.” Alec was stung by her criticism even while he knew he was being unreasonable. Of course, she thought he was dumb. He was acting dumb. Still … “Lady Macbeth masterminded the whole thing.”
“She did not. She didn’t even know he was doing it. It’s in the play that he doesn’t tell her until afterward.”
“Ha,” Alec said. “She pretended not to know.”
Dennie studied him. “Is it indicative of some deep-seated hostility toward women that you are willing to frame her for a crime she didn’t commit? Or are you really this dumb?”
“Dumb?” Alec bristled again. “Hell, she’d already killed Duncan.”
“No, she didn’t. Macbeth killed Duncan.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have if she hadn’t egged him on. That woman was a bitch.”
Dennie leaned back and folded her arms. “That’s what all insecure men call powerful women.”
Alec leaned back and folded his arms. “Do not tell me you are a feminist.”
“Of course I’m a feminist, you moron. What did you think I was?”
“I was hoping you were a bimbo. Unfortunately, I was wrong.”
Dennie’s laugh startled him. “I like you.” She leaned forward and picked up a breadstick. “Your grasp of Macbeth is pathetic, but you may have other possibilities. And you’re not nearly as dumb as you’re pretending to be. What is all that about anyway?” She crunched into the stick, her even white teeth neatly severing the bread.
“All what?” Alec asked, caught flat-footed, and then the waiter brought the menus.
“Would you like to see the wine list, sir?”
“Sure.” Alec took the wine list from him with gratitude. He looked across the top of the folder at Dennie. “Any preferences?”
“Nope,” Dennie said. “Stun me with your expertise.”
Alec snapped the wine list back to the waiter. “Something in a red.”
“I’m stunned,” Dennie said.
The waiter looked pained. “Very good, sir.”
“Do you know that blond guy at the bar very well?” Alec asked her when the waiter was gone.
“Not at all.” Dennie studied her menu. “What’s good to eat here?”
“I hear everything is good here.” Alec stared at her while she considered the menu. She was too smart