Winter Song (Seasons Pass Book 1)

by Susan C. Muller

  “No, she was shot. Most likely a case of road rage. I’ve been told she was a reckless driver.” He watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction.

  “Who told you that? Gary?” Again the note of distaste filled her voice. “Well, he’s right, up to a point. When we’d go shopping or out to lunch, she’d drive faster than the speed limit. She liked to weave in and out of traffic. It gave her some kind of thrill. The red car Gary gave her for Christmas brought out the worst in her. She had a couple of tickets last year, but got two more already this year. She claimed cops picked on red cars.”

  “That’s a fallacy, ma’am.” Conner spoke softly. “Red cars don’t get any more tickets than black ones or brown or white.”

  She had the grace to look embarrassed. “Maybe, but there’s something Gary didn’t know. She may have driven a few miles over the limit, but she was never reckless. Especially once the sun went down. After her Lasik surgery last year, she didn’t see well at night. The lights bothered her. Gave her a starburst effect. She didn’t want Gary to know, so she was always extra careful after dark. And a night like last night? With ice on the ground? She would have found her lane and stuck to it.”

  Noah’s chest tightened. “So what do you think happened, ma’am?”

  “Why don’t I put on a pot of coffee? This is too important for candy-ass tea.”

  Laurel busied herself making coffee while she attempted to figure out where to start. She’d let Crystal down when she was alive. She couldn’t let her down now. “You know Bledsoe is my married name. I was born a Newcomb.”

  The tall detective’s face didn’t change. If he knew, he didn’t care. The slim detective glanced up from his notes and she knew he recognized what she was implying. She might as well have said her name was Houston. It amounted to the same thing.

  “When Peter and I got married six years ago, we signed pre-nups. He said it was to protect me from him. I was the one with money, and it was old money. That’s worth twice as much as new money any day. They say you can’t take it with you, but when my dad died three years ago, that’s just about what he did. It was all gone. I realize now that Peter already knew Daddy had lost, or was about to lose, everything and the pre-nup strongly favored him. But at the time, I was in love and believed everything he told me.”

  She set the cups in front of the detectives but paced the room while she talked. She was too skittish to stay still. “When Peter left me for a newer model six months ago, he took everything that wasn’t nailed down. This house, that he claimed he bought for me as a wedding gift, is in his name only. And my car is leased through his office and the lease is up next month. The fidelity clause applies to me, not him. He can do it on the first green at River Oaks Country Club and he might be ejected from the club for indecency, but that’s all that will happen to him.”

  The two men glanced at each other, then back at her, but didn’t speak. She could feel her body start to tremble. If she didn’t control herself, they’d think she was hysterical, and disregard anything she said. Then she would have failed Crystal again and she wouldn’t let that happen. They’d just have to be patient a little longer

  She clasped her hands tightly and took a cleansing breath, trying to remember everything the yoga instructor had taught her.

  “If I don’t get caught misbehaving, I’m due to receive one million dollars. But only when the divorce is final, and Peter’s in no hurry for that. Why should he be? He’s holed up in his love nest with his new bimbo. He can’t possibly marry her until he gets rid of me. Meanwhile, he stuck an outrageously high price on the house and since I don’t have any cash, I have to live here until it sells. Only I found out he’s deducting exorbitant rent, taxes, and utilities from my million. If I ask for money to live on, he deducts that from my million also. He plans to hang on till the economy improves. If it’s another year or two, what does he care? He can get what he wants for the house, trade in that bimbo for an even younger bimbo, and he won’t owe me anything but pocket change.”

  She watched as Detective Neatnick closed his notebook and pushed it aside. “That’s a very distressing story, ma’am. But I don’t see how it helps us figure out what happened to Mrs. Hudson.”

  Detective Grumpy unfolded his hands and sat up straighter. “Because Crystal was in the same predicament as Laurel. Only she realized it ahead of time and tried to protect herself.”

  Yes! Finally. Someone who took the situation seriously. A wave of relief flooded over her. She plopped down in her empty chair, her legs weak as water.

  The big detective had opened the curtains a sliver and she could see the intelligence shining through his eyes. She couldn’t think of him as Detective Grumpy anymore.

  “When did you tell Crystal exactly what Peter was doing?” He raked a hand across his chin and started at her intently.

  “At first I was too upset about Peter leaving me to even think about the money. As soon as I started to get my feet on the ground, I learned he’d moved in with his secretary. That threw me back again. All I did was whine on Crystal’s shoulder. ‘Why me? Why me? What did I do to deserve this?’” Tears threatened as the truth hit home. She’d never see her friend again.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and her ring caught in a tangle she’d missed. When she yanked her hand away, a clump of hair came with it. She flinched but kept talking. She owed it to Crystal.

  “The week after Thanksgiving, my yoga teacher pulled me aside and told me my bill hadn’t been paid. I was humiliated. Everyone in the class heard. In the car on the way home, a little bell started going off in my head. I think Crystal caught on before I did. She placed her hand on my arm and asked, ‘Laurel, how much is Peter giving you a month to live on?’ She couldn’t believe I didn’t know.”

  “So she jumped in to help you figure it out, and in the process discovered how easy it would be for Gary to screw her in the same way.”

  “Yes, Detective Daugherty, I think that’s what happened. Although it wasn’t until Gary gave her that car for Christmas and she realized it was leased in his company’s name that she confronted him.”

  Something close to a smile played across his face. “We’re past the formalities at this point, Laurel. You need to call us Noah and Conner if we’re going to sit here and drink all your coffee.”

  She hated admitting what a fool she’d been. Especially in front of two men who seemed so strong, so pulled together. They probably had no idea of the paralysis that followed having your entire world turned upside-down overnight.

  But, like it or not, she’d live over her problems. Crystal hadn’t.

  The day was probably as warm as it was going to get. Half melted ice formed puddles on sidewalks and parking lots.

  Noah’s socks had dried out just in time to get wet again.

  Almost noon, although you wouldn’t know it from the gray sky.

  “Learning which yoga studio our vic used was a big plus. Now we know how far to canvas. I’m happy not to walk around outside any longer than we have to.”

  Conner blew on his hands, creating a cloud of breath-frost. “It may be cold out here, but I’ll take this any day to that nut-job yogi with his mood lighting, new-age music and incense. He would have felt the negative energy if Crystal was being harassed or followed.”

  “I like to be able to actually see a witness’ face to judge their statements. The only thing bushier than his beard was that curlicue mustache.”

  “You’re just jealous because he’s in better shape than you are.”

  “Not jealous, disappointed. When we decided to interview the yoga instructor, I was expecting a lithe, sexy woman, not a seventy-year-old man with a ponytail. You have to admit, it’s not natural for someone his age to be that limber. And his feet! Talk about ugly. I swear those toes where practically prehensile.”

  Conner took one last look at the yoga studio before turning to follow Noah down the street. “We did learn one useful thing. Crystal grabbed her things and left within five m
inutes.”

  “Which leaves us ten minutes unaccounted for because pulling a U-ie under the freeway and passing in front of the dry cleaners shouldn’t take more than two or three minutes.”

  They checked every store in the strip center, but no one remembered seeing Crystal or any suspicious car. A Circle K near the corner explained the diet soda in her cup holder and the missing ten minutes. It had cameras both inside and outside.

  Noah grabbed two coffees while Conner added those tapes to their ever growing pile.

  By late afternoon, they had finished canvassing the other side of the freeway, collecting two more tapes, but no new information. They were almost back to headquarters when Noah’s cell rang.

  “Daugherty.” He didn’t recognize the number, but he’d given out at least twenty of his cards over the last two days.

  “Noah?” The voice was soft and he couldn’t place it.

  “Yes.” Why couldn’t people identify themselves right away? Did they expect him to recognize their voice from one word?

  “It’s Laurel Bledsoe. Do you think you could come by my house? I have someone here you might want to talk to.”

  What now? Everyone thought they could be a detective, that they’d found the one clue necessary to break a case wide open. A Hero complex.

  He checked his watch. Already after four. This time of day it would take half an hour at least to get to Bellaire, and that was after Conner had checked in the Turdmobile and he’d pulled out of the garage. He’d be late getting home again, and Sweet Pea could add another item to the long list of grievances she held against him.

  “Of course, Laurel. If you think it’s important. I’m downtown right now, but I can head your way in about ten minutes.”

  Noah hung up and reached into his pocket, pulling out a quarter. “Want to flip me for it?”

  Conner swung the Taurus into the parking garage. “No, you take her. I’ll stay here and get the murder book up-to-date. Maybe I’ll do a preliminary run through on these tapes before I log them into evidence.”

  “Don’t forget the popcorn,” Noah growled as he started up the ramp to his own car. If Laurel hadn’t given him her cold this morning, she surely would now. His immune system must be on its last legs after a full day with wet feet, inside one overheated office for ten minutes before moving back out into the cold and on to another overheated store.

  Ah, the glamour of police work.

  Noah had to admit there was an upside to the shitty weather. Some businesses had closed, and rush hour traffic was lighter than normal. The sun had never made an appearance, leaving the sky a uniform gray. Exactly the way he pictured White Nights in northern latitudes.

  He reached Laurel’s by five fifteen. If she didn’t talk too long, he could get home at a decent hour. There was one frozen dinner left in the fridge. He could put his feet up and eat in front of the TV. Even play with Sweet Pea, assuming she’d acknowledge him.

  A quick phone call to his sister, assuring her he was all right, would keep her from popping over unannounced on the weekend.

  This time, Laurel answered the door at his first knock. That wasn’t the only thing different. She must have bathed and washed her hair because it hung in waves beside her face. She was wearing tight jeans and a red sweater. He would have said the sweater matched her nose, but she’d evidently put on make-up because while her nose still looked raw around the edges, it no longer glowed.

  “Hi, Detective, uh, Noah. Come on in. I have someone who’s willing to talk to you.”

  Noah wiped his shoes on the mat as he stepped inside. The curtains were open, allowing light inside and the house no longer smelled damp and musty. The hum of a vacuum came from another room.

  She led him into the kitchen, which now sparkled. He sat in the same chair he’d used that morning, but the arm rests had lost their sticky feel.

  Damn, she must be a little turbo if she’s cleaned this much in only a few hours.

  Maybe he should offer to hire her. Despite the half-hearted stab he made at house cleaning on Saturdays, he suspected his home was beginning to acquire a thin layer of grime. But who was to know except him and Sweet Pea?

  Laurel leaned across the kitchen table and whispered. “I need you to get her out of here.”

  Get who out? Did this have to do with his case or was she asking for help with a trespasser? Or worse, her ex-husband. “I thought you wanted me to talk to someone about Crystal’s murder.”

  “I do, it’s just that . . .” Laurel’s eyes darted around the room. “After you left this morning, I kept thinking about Crystal, how I should have been a better friend. I needed to do something before I fell apart so I decided to go to the grocery store. I’ve had this cold lately and haven’t felt like going out. Besides, I hate going to the store. Everyone’s so happy and buying for their families.”

  He knew exactly how she felt. He usually did his shopping after ten at night. When all the families were home, tucked in safe and sound.

  “But I really didn’t have any food left and the ice had melted so I thought I’d better go before things froze again and that’s when I saw her.”

  Noah nodded several times in hopes of encouraging her to get on with the story.

  “Sorry, what I mean is. . . When I pulled out, I saw Rosaria walking down the street. She’s housesitting for the Fords. They’ve gone to the islands to rest from all the holiday parties. Being rich is stressful you know. You have to pick just the right gift, and you can’t wear the same thing to more than one party. And Heaven forbid you use last year’s decorations.” She rolled her eyes at Noah.

  “Anyway, she used to work for the Fords three days a week and for me two days. Then I had to cut her back to one day and finally stop using her altogether. So, I’m sure she needed the extra money.”

  Noah was beginning to feel like a bobble-headed doll, but each time he stopped nodding, she stopped talking.

  “So when I saw her carrying her suitcase, I knew something was wrong.”

  If he nodded one more time, his brain would turn to Jell-O. He tried to make an encouraging sound, but it came out more of a growl.

  “I’m sorry. I know I’m babbling, but I think you frightened her this morning.”

  Yep, he should have put money on it. Rosaria was the maid from the fourth house, and she must have run as soon as he and Conner drove off.

  “I brought her here to try to convince her to talk to you but she keeps cleaning instead and I don’t have any money to pay her and you have to get her out of here before I spend all my food money on clean dishes and I still don’t have anything to eat. I don’t know what to do and you’ve got to help me.” The words poured out faster and faster. When she finally stopped for a breath, her shoulders sagged.

  So Rosaria was the cleaning whiz he ought to hire. “Does she know anything about this case?”

  “I think so. She used to help out when Crystal and Gary had parties. She got very agitated at the last one and refused to work for them anymore. Crystal said Gary fussed at her for breaking a glass, but I think she saw something that upset her.”

  “Why don’t you see if she’ll come in here and talk to me?”

  Laurel set a cup in front of him and headed for the sound of the vacuum.

  He’d been demoted to tea again.

  Rosaria followed Laurel into the room, almost hiding in her shadow. She sat only when Laurel pushed down on her shoulder, and tried to refuse the cup of tea placed on the table in front of her.

  Noah knew instinctively she’d be a tough interview. Any interruption would be a deal breaker.

  “Laurel, why don’t you go on to the store and do your shopping. Rosaria and I will be fine by ourselves. We know how to find the tea if we need some more, don’t we, Rosaria?”

  Rosaria looked terrified at the thought of being alone with him, but he held Laurel’s eyes until she picked up her purse and left.

  “Now, Rosaria, you remember me from earlier this morning, don’t you?” He took
out another card and handed it to her. She had probably thrown the first one away. “I’m Detective Noah Daugherty. I’m with the Homicide Department. The only thing I’m interested in is the murder of Crystal Hudson. I don’t care if you have traffic tickets or trouble with your green card. That’s not my department and I won’t talk about you to anyone in those departments. Do you understand?”

  “Si.” Rosaria agreed, but didn’t relax.

  “I’m giving you my personal word that anything you say to me is in strictest confidence. It’s no different than talking to your priest.” Bile rose in Noah’s throat. It was a lot different than talking to her priest and the lie almost choked him. The fact that he would never have told that particular lie six months ago set like a stone in his chest.

  But what had God done for him lately? Nothing good.

  Rosaria still didn’t look him in the eyes. This was going to be like pulling teeth. He decided to start with easy questions and give her time to warm up to him. Yeah, sure. Because everyone knew what a warm and fuzzy guy he was.

  “How long have you worked for the Bledsoes?”

  “Oh, I’ve worked for Miss Laurel for years. Long before she married that hijo de puta of a husband. She doesn’t have any money now, but when she did, she was very generous. She used to give me a nice Christmas bonus and pay me when she went out of town. When my kids were young, she would buy them a new outfit to start school. But that’s not why I like her. She always drove me to and from the bus stop. The other’s—poo, they couldn’t be bothered. Even if it was raining or cold. She remembers my kid’s names. She once wrote a letter to a school to help my Emile get accepted. I think she asked her husband to write it, but he wouldn’t.”

  Her English was accented, but easy to understand. He just needed to keep her talking and agreeing with her was the easiest way to do it. “In this business you learn to read people. I could tell Laurel was a nice person the first time I met her. I could tell a lot about Gary Hudson also, and I wasn’t too impressed.”