Deadly Sins: Lust

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Deadly Sins: Lust Page 4

by Cheryl Bradshaw


  “Did you talk to Marissa?”

  “Not really. She wasn’t in a chatty mood. It looked like something was bothering her. I tried talking to her. She didn’t seem interested.”

  “Did you see her talking to anyone else?”

  He tossed a tea towel over his shoulder and crossed his arms. “You ask a lot of questions. What’s going on?”

  Maddie leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm. “If I tell you something, can you keep it to yourself?”

  “Maddie, don’t,” I said.

  She gave me a look that said don’t worry—she knew what she was doing. But worrying was what I did best. Right now the line of communication with Connor was open. If she pushed, he might clam up.

  “Our friend Marissa’s death was suspicious,” she said. “Maybe it was an accident. Maybe not. Whatever you’ve seen on the news, it’s not the full story.”

  “You serious?”

  She nodded. I assumed he’d make his exit by then, but his eyes shifted as Maddie spoke. He was intrigued.

  “We’re trying to figure out what happened the night she died,” she said. “Can you help us?”

  “Are you really friends with the girl who died?”

  “We are,” Maddie said. “We flew over here to find out for ourselves what happened.”

  He went silent for a minute and then said, “I didn’t see your friend talking to anyone else. But they were fighting.”

  “Who was fighting, Marissa and her friends?”

  “Yeah.”

  “About what?” Maddie asked.

  He glanced at a guy in a suit standing near the restaurant’s entrance. “I want to help you, but I gotta get back to work. If I stand here too long talking, my boss will come over.”

  “When are you off? Can we talk to you after?”

  A waiter with dark hair and eyes that reminded me of a cat stepped in front of Connor with two plates of food in his hands. He was slender and dressed in tight skinny jeans, which were cuffed at the bottom.

  “Leo,” Connor said. “These two are mates of those girls we met up with the other night. The ones in town for the wedding.”

  Leo’s eyes widened. Without saying a word, he shoved the plates down in front of us and took off for the kitchen.

  Maddie shrugged. “What’s with him?”

  I slid off the barstool. I didn’t know, but I was about to find out.

  CHAPTER 13

  I poked my head inside the kitchen. A short, plump woman stirring a large metal pot of soup squinted at me and tipped her head to the side. “The toilet is over there.”

  “I’m looking for Leo.”

  “He went out back for a smoke. Be about five minutes or so, I’d reckon.”

  “He said I could join him, but he must have forgotten to tell me.”

  She pointed at the back door. “He’s just through here.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No worries.”

  I stepped outside and looked around. I didn’t see him. A swirling mist of vapor wafted around the side of the building, peppering the air with a layer of smoke. I crept toward it, but he’d heard the back door open. He jerked his head around the corner, dropped his cigarette on the ground, and took off running, confirming my suspicions.

  He had something to hide.

  I chased after him. “Stop! I just want to talk.”

  He crossed the street and stuck a key into the door of a tiny, red, bubble—shaped coupe and got inside. Fortunately, I was prepared for such an event. I produced the steak knife I’d stolen from the bar’s counter and stabbed it into his front tire. It was a clean slit, flattening out just enough to keep him from going anywhere fast.

  I knocked on the car window. “Get out.”

  “I can’t believe ... why did you ... why would you do that?”

  “I asked you to stop running. You didn’t.”

  “And that makes it okay to slash my tires?”

  “Tire,” I clarified.

  “What?”

  “It was one tire. Get out of the car.”

  “No.”

  He started the engine.

  I fisted my hand. “I’ll bust your window out too, but you’re not leaving.”

  He raised his hands. “All right, all right. Just stop ... okay?”

  “Turn the car off.”

  He complied.

  “Why did you run?”

  “I knew it. I knew this would happen.”

  “Knew what would happen?” I asked.

  His eyes darted in every direction, paranoid, like he was searching for something or someone.

  “Where is he—waiting for me to get off work? I had no idea. Okay?”

  Apparently, I didn’t either.

  “He, ahh, just wants to talk,” I said.

  “Yeah, right, before he has me beaten up or worse, right? I know why you’re here. I don’t want any hassles. Tell Mr. Ashby I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  It was a confession, just not the one I expected. “Unlock the door so we can talk.”

  “How do I know you won’t—”

  “I won’t.”

  He smeared the sweat off his brow and unlocked the side door. I got in.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, okay?” I said. “And then I want you to be honest with me. Deal?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know who Mr. Ashby is.”

  “Then why have you been following me all day?”

  “I haven’t been.”

  He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, kneading it. “I’m losing it.”

  “I want to talk to you about Marissa Calhoun.”

  “Who?”

  “The girl who died in the lagoon. You met her at the bachelorette party a couple nights ago.”

  “I, yeah, I did.”

  “All I want to know is what happened on the night she died. I’m trying to piece it all together.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget it ever happened and move on.”

  “Forget what happened?”

  “You don’t know?”

  I shook my head. “Start from the beginning.”

  “Connor and me met Layla and her friends when they came here for dinner. Layla started flirting with me at the bar, and after a couple of drinks, she invited us to join them at Splashes. After we got off work, we did.”

  “Did you talk to Marissa while you were there?”

  “Not much. She seemed like a cool chick. She asked me how long I’d lived in Cairns, what brought me here, that kind of thing.”

  “Anything else?”

  He shook his head. “Layla dragged me out to the dance floor with her, so my conversation with Marissa ended. Then Layla said she was hot and wanted to go outside. We walked around the block, and ... uhh ... you know.”

  I didn’t, but I was certain it would only take a single guess.

  “You’re saying you two had sex.”

  He nodded. “If I knew who she was marrying, I wouldn’t have touched her.”

  “Why not?”

  “You seriously don’t know who James Ashby is?”

  “Tell me.”

  “A politician. People love the guy. He has a reputation for getting what he wants. I read somewhere that he’d made a death threat on a guy who used to work for him, but nothing ever came of it.”

  “How did you find out who she was marrying?”

  “When we went back inside, Layla blurted out that we’d just had sex. Val and Georgia laughed and high—fived Layla, but Marissa was upset.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She lectured Layla, told her she was being stupid. Layla didn’t take it well. She tossed her drink in Marissa’s face and said Marissa was making a big deal out of nothing. Marissa grabbed her bag and walked out. Val went after her, and that was the last time I saw Marissa.”

  “It still doesn’t explain how you knew who Layla was marrying.”

  “I was reading the paper this
morning, and there was an article about him. It said he was getting married, and there was a photo of him and Layla. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “What happened after Marissa left?”

  “Layla apologized. I turned to leave, and she said something interesting to Georgia.”

  “What’s that?”

  She said, “Who is she to judge me anyway? She keeps secrets from her own husband.’”

  Not honest with her own husband? What did that mean?

  I pulled two hundred dollars out of my pocket and slapped it down on the dashboard.

  Leo eyed it curiously. “What’s that for?”

  I opened the car door and stepped out. “Buy yourself a new tire.”

  CHAPTER 14

  I called the police station to ask about Nick and wasn’t told much. They wouldn’t give me an estimate about how long and said to check back in the morning. I felt helpless, but for now, Maddie and I decided he’d want us to press on.

  I discussed my conversation with Leo to Maddie as we drove back to Layla’s house. I had more questions. If she didn’t want her betrothed to know what she’d been up to, she’d answer them.

  “Do you think Layla would kill Marissa to keep her quiet about having sex with another guy?” Maddie asked.

  “It’s possible, but no. It doesn’t feel right to me. Layla was bragging about what happened. If she worried about her fiancé finding out, she would have kept quiet. She probably thought she was safe telling her closest friends until Marissa flipped out.”

  My mind circled back to Leo’s comment about Layla accusing Marissa of keeping secrets from Nick. When I’d first met Marissa, her love for Nick was obvious. They seemed close, and yet her friends knew something about her that he didn’t. I needed to know what she had been hiding.

  I parked in Marissa’s driveway, and a black car pulled to the side of me. A man wearing a dark suit and a red pinstriped tie headed our direction. He was clean and polished and well preserved for his age, despite the fact his hair was peppered with gray. He looked in my eyes and smiled, and I thought of George Clooney. But he had a harder edge like a warning label suggesting he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.

  “You must be Nick’s friends,” he said.

  “And you’re James Ashby,” I said.

  He nodded. “I hear the three of you have been causing trouble.”

  “If trouble is the way you define looking into Marissa’s death, then yes.”

  “She drowned. It’s unfortunate, but true.”

  There was no mincing of words with this guy. He cut straight to it. I respected that in a person.

  “You don’t know that for sure,” I said. “No one does. Not yet.”

  “As a private detective, I understand your need to make this more than it is.” He turned to Maddie. “And you, you’re a medical examiner, right? Unlike your country, murders don’t take place here every day. It’s not common. Especially in North Queensland.”

  “I’m not interested in statistics,” I said. “I’m interested in answers.”

  The passenger-side door of James’s car opened. I expected Layla to step out, but it wasn’t her. It was a girl, no older than eighteen, I guessed. She had long, straight, honey-brown hair, eyes shaped like almonds, and an unusually flat face. She adjusted her glasses, looked at me with a big, wide smile, and said, “I’m Grace. What’s your name?”

  “Sloane,” I said. “I like your dress.”

  She twirled around like the belle of the ball, showcasing the pastel blue, floor-length, scoop neck dress made of chiffon. “Uncle James bought it for me. Today’s my birthday. You’re pretty.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned to Maddie. “You’re pretty too.”

  Maddie threw her arms around her. “And you’re beautiful.”

  “I know,” Grace said.

  James put a hand on Grace’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go inside and look at the birthday cake Layla bought you?”

  Grace skipped across the grass and went into the house.

  I looked at James. “Is she—”

  “Down syndrome? Yes. She’s the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet.”

  “I can tell.”

  The front door opened, and a barefooted Layla walked toward us, her finger in the air, wagging. “Oh no. Get back in your car and leave. You’re not allowed on my property.”

  James grabbed her hand and kissed it. “We’re just talking, darlin’. There’s no need to get upset.”

  “No need?” Layla said. “Even after what happened earlier today?”

  “Layla ...”

  “Okay, fine,” she hissed. “But I want them to leave.”

  “And they will,” he said. “You help Grace, and let me handle it.”

  I bet he knew the right thing to say in any situation to produce the results he wanted. I could see why he was a politician.

  Like the puppet she was, Layla nodded and did what he asked.

  “Before you go, I have a question for you, Layla,” I said. “Marissa was keeping something from Nick, and since she’s no longer alive, there’s no use keeping her secret now. What didn’t she tell him?”

  She responded by raising her middle finger.

  “Oh, by the way,” I said. “Thanks for recommending Pelican. It’s a good restaurant. The bartenders are great. Love those guys.”

  I had hoped the realization that I was aware of her sexual escapade would work in my favor. Instead, she went into the house and slammed the door.

  James laughed.

  “You’re marrying a feisty woman,” I said. “In your position, doesn’t that concern you?”

  He smiled. “Her gutty personality is the best thing about her. She can be reasoned with.”

  Reasoned with seemed like a polite way of him saying she could be controlled.

  “I know what Layla did the other night,” he said. “She told me.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure you don’t know everything.”

  “She had sex with another man. Was there something else?”

  He said it without blinking, like he was indifferent to the idea of Layla being with anyone else.

  “She told you?” I asked.

  “It was my idea.”

  “The thought of her having sex with another man doesn’t bother you?”

  “Why should it? We have an open, honest relationship. I have never lied to her about anything. We love each other. That’s all that matters.”

  While I remained speechless, Maddie lit up like she wanted to give the man a standing ovation.

  He glanced at his phone. “It’s getting late, and we have a wedding rehearsal in the morning. It was nice meeting you both, and I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing. Stick around for a while if you like, but face the truth about Marissa’s death. Stop looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

  “Is that a suggestion?” I asked.

  “It is. One I’d advise you to follow.”

  “Or what? I’ve heard rumors about you.”

  He gazed at me for a time, unaffected, and then said, “Funny thing, rumors. Hard to know what’s true and what’s not.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The following morning, we woke to the sound of Maddie’s cell phone buzzing. She yawned and grabbed it off the nightstand.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t recognize the number.”

  She put the call on speaker. “Hello?”

  “Madison, this is Victoria Bennett.”

  “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

  “I rang Nick’s mobile, and he’s not picking up. I need to speak with him.”

  “Ehh ... he’s not available right now.”

  “Do you know when he will be?”

  I was surprised she hadn’t heard about his arrest. I leaned toward the phone. “Victoria, it’s Sloane. We don’t know when we’ll see Nick again.”

  “Why? What’s happened?”

  “He got into an argument with
a man he thought might have something to do with Marissa’s death, and he was arrested. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.”

  “I worked through the night. I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

  “Did you find anything?” Maddie asked.

  “There have been some developments, yes.”

  “If there’s anything you can tell us, it would really help.”

  There was a long pause. Too long.

  “Victoria, you still there?” Maddie asked.

  “I’m thinking,” she said. “It’s just ... I should probably talk to the police first.”

  “I understand,” I said. “We’re not getting anywhere on our end, and with Nick locked up, we’d appreciate any help we could get.”

  After another silent stretch, she said, “Why don’t the two of you come over? I need to show you something.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Victoria was at her desk talking on the phone when we arrived, her face grim, eyes worn. She glanced at us and lifted a finger, indicating she needed a moment, and then she continued arguing with the person on the other end of the line. She attempted to speak in a lowered tone, but her loud, commanding voice carried into the other room, allowing us to hear fragments of the conversation. She was bickering about an experiment she’d done, saying it was relevant and should be taken seriously. Whomever she was speaking to didn’t seem to agree.

  She let out an enervated, “Fine, I understand,” and ended the call.

  Grabbing a Red Bull off her desk, she cracked it open, guzzling the entire can. Then she waved us back inside.

  “Everything all right?” Maddie asked.

  “This case ... it’s just ... not what I’m used to dealing with.”

  “Are you not getting any help from the police?”

  She shook her head. “They’re great. Believe me. I know I seem frustrated, but everyone cares about getting it right. We just need to be certain before we move forward. I need to run more tests, which I’m doing, but I’m exhausted and grumpy, and there isn’t enough of me to go around.”

  “What can we do to help?”

  “The answer I should give you is ‘nothing,’ but I don’t see the harm in telling you what I’ve discovered so far. Just so we’re clear, if anyone asks, the conversation we’re about to have never happened. Understand?”

 

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