Devil's Gold

by Amanda McKinney

  Tanya nodded. “Yes, once every week, sometimes every other week.”

  “Were you two friends?”

  “No.” The response was immediate, and filled with disdain.

  Dixie raised her eyebrows.

  Tanya’s face began to flush. “I mean… um, no, we only saw each other here at the office.”

  Dixie narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. “Did you like her?”

  “I, um, didn’t really know her.”

  “Did you see her on Monday?”

  “Yes, she dropped off some samples.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Around three-thirty in the afternoon.”

  “Did she leave the samples with you, or go into the back?”

  “The back.”

  “How long was she here, in the office?”

  “I’m… um, I’m not sure.”

  “What time did you leave for the day?”

  “Five-thirty.”

  “Was Dr. Blevins still in the office at that time?”

  Pause. “Yes, yes, I think so.”

  “He drives the Porsche, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Nice car.”

  Beads of sweat began to dot Tanya’s forehead.

  Dixie paused. “Has he ever given you a ride?”

  Tanya’s mouth dropped open.

  “In the car, I mean.”

  “Oh, um, I can’t remember.” Her eyes darted across the room.

  Dixie leaned forward. “Tanya, were Dr. Blevins and Lizzie Meyers having an affair?”

  Just then, the door opened.

  “Tanya, we need you up front.” Dr. Blevins narrowed his eyes and shot Dixie a you can go straight to hell look, before turning back to his receptionist. “Immediately.”

  Tanya shot out of her seat like a bullet and scurried out of the room.

  Dixie stood. “Dr. Blevins, I was hoping you had a moment to chat.”

  His jaw clenched. “I’ll bet you were. I’ve already given my statement to the police, last night. Now if you’ll—

  “Were you with Lizzie the night she was murdered, Dr. Blevins?”

  His cheeks flushed with emotion. “Lizzie and I were nothing more than work acquaintances.” He lowered his voice, which was quivering with anger. “I only saw her here, for Christ’s sake. And if my wife has hired you to tail me, you’re wasting your damn time. Now get out of my fucking office.”

  Dixie cocked an eyebrow as Dr. Blevins turned, stomped down the hall, and slammed the door to his office.

  She heard whispers in the next room.

  She grabbed her purse, stepped into the hall, and after glancing over her shoulder, she quietly stepped to the door and strained to listen.

  “…police were there until almost midnight last night. Suzie left and went to a hotel right after…”

  Her cell phone dinged.

  Shit!

  A nurse poked her head out of the room, and looked at Dixie. “Hi, can I help you?”

  Dixie fumbled through her purse and silenced her phone. “I’m sorry, I just got turned around. I don’t think we’ve met…”

  “Paula Daubs. I’m the head nurse here.”

  “Dixie Knight, pleasure to meet you. I was just chatting with Tanya in the conference room.”

  The nurse rolled her eyes. “Geez, did she mess up something else?”

  “No, no. I was hoping to get some time with Dr. Blevins today, but it appears that he’s all booked up.”

  The nurse cut a look at the dark-haired, dark-eyed man in an expensive suit, leaning up against a desk in the office. He pushed off the desk and walked to the door. “Dixie Knight?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry, are you a patient here, or…”

  “I’m a private investigator.”

  The nurse raised her eyebrows.

  The man frowned. “I’m Edward Rossi, a friend of John’s. Can I help you with something?”

  “Sure, do you have a few moments to chat?”

  “I was just on my way out, walk with me?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Edward grabbed his coat and briefcase, and after telling Paula to call him if she needed anything, he stepped out of the office.

  Dixie fell into step beside him as they walked down the hall. “You mentioned you and John are friends?”

  “Yes, for years. I met him in medical school decades ago.”

  “You’re a doctor?”

  “Was. Retired. I own this clinic with him. I’m a silent partner.”

  They pushed out of the front doors and were welcomed by falling snow. She repositioned the recorder pen on her coat.

  “So you must know what’s going on.”

  He nodded, his eyes saddening. “Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.”

  “Okay then, I’ll cut to the chase—were John and Lizzie Meyers romantically involved?”

  “No.”

  “Was he with her Monday night?”

  He looked at her. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Miss Knight. John didn’t kill her.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  He stopped, turned. “Why? Because he wouldn’t have—he had no reason to. Despite what you’ve heard, they weren’t having an affair.” His eyes narrowed. “Despite what Suzie says.”

  “Why would Suzie think that, then?”

  “She thinks he’s cheating on her all the time. Jealous type.” He blew out a breath. “Look, I was here when Lizzie came by Monday… she seemed upset. Off. Said something about her neighbor…”

  “Something about her neighbor? What did she say?”

  He squeezed his face. “I’m trying to remember. Oh! Something about how she thinks she saw something that she wasn’t supposed to, and then found a dead—mutilated—black cat on her doorstep the next morning. She thinks her creepy neighbor put it there.”

  “Saw something she wasn’t supposed to?”

  “Yeah… something like that. Or, maybe someone. Saw someone she wasn’t supposed to.” His phone rang. “I’ve got to take this.” He started to turn, and then turned back. “Dixie, seriously, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  Dixie watched him jog across the parking lot, and then pulled out her cell phone.

  “Raven here.”

  “Raven, it’s Dixie.”

  “Oh, good, you’ve got several messages…”

  “Keep them. I need you to look into a few things for me.” She started walking to her truck.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Got a pen? Stupid question. Okay, I need you to pull everything you can on Tanya White. She’s the receptionist at Den Care Clinic—John Blevins’s clinic.”

  “Suspect?”

  “Something’s definitely going on there. Whether she knows something, or had a part in something, I don’t know, but she was shaking like a Chihuahua the entire time we spoke. She got all worked up talking about John, and she’s definitely not a fan of Lizzie Meyers. The girl knows something.”

  “All worked up? Could she be having an affair with John?”

  “Not sure, but if so, that guy must have a golden penis or something.”

  “Golden penis? What was his phone number again?”

  Dixie smirked. “You need a boyfriend. Anyway, she was holding back, no doubt about it. I also need you to pull a list of every employee in the clinic, past and present. Anyone who might’ve had contact with Lizzie.”

  “Got it. Anything else?”

  “Yeah… I need to know more about Black Magic Balik. We need to know where she was Monday night. Have Ace see if he can pin her location for that night.”

  “Will do. Are you coming in?”

  “Nope, I’m going to visit the neurotic wife.”

  “Ask about the golden penis.”

  “I’ll lead with that.”

  “Have fun.”

  Click.

  CHAPTER 11

  Dixie clicked on her recorder as she walked down the long hallway that led to the penth
ouse suite.

  According to the desk clerk—who was more than willing to provide details of Suzie Blevins’s stay for a free cup of coffee—Suzie stormed into the hotel around one in the morning, with her dogs in tow, and demanded the best room available, and two bottles of wine. Bordeaux, apparently.

  As Dixie reached the suite, she took a deep breath and said a little prayer that Suzie’s reputation for being a nutcase wasn’t true, and that the meeting would be productive.

  The moment her knuckle tapped the door, wild barking—yapping—ensued from the room.

  After a muffled, “Shut up!”, the door swung open. Dressed in a silk robe, pink slippers, and diamond earrings, Suzie looked Dixie up and down.

  “Mrs. Blevins…”

  “Suzie.”

  “Okay, Suzie, I’m Dixie Knight.”

  Suzie’s eyes widened, and her face softened minimally—as much as it could around the fillers, of course.

  “Oh. Come in.”

  She stepped inside and looked around the spacious suite. An empty bottle of wine lay in the middle of the seating area, which was centered in front of sweeping windows that overlooked the snow-covered mountains. She glanced at the kitchen and bar—more empty wine bottles. A few dark spots speckled the plush carpet, presumably a gift for the staff from Suzie’s precious miniature poodles.

  Suzie swatted at her dogs, demanding their silence, and closed the door. “I’m sorry I haven’t returned your call… It’s been a shitty twenty-four hours. Anyway, I’ve heard so much about you, but we’ve never met.”

  “It’s a pleasure. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

  “Yes.” She walked across the room. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Alright then, I’ll have one for both of us.” She plucked a bottle off the counter and poured a glass. “I’m assuming you’ve spoken with my lawyer, Hank?”

  “Yes, yesterday.”

  “I told him to tell you that I’ll pay whatever. Initially, I just wanted you to catch the cheating son of a bitch so I could kick his ass to the curb, but now that his little mistress is dead, I need you to prove he did it.” She walked to the sitting area and sank into the white leather couch.

  Dixie sat across from her. “My job isn’t to prove that he did or didn’t do it, but to gather evidence, either way.”

  “Whatever, same thing.”

  Actually, not at all, but she didn’t want to argue semantics.

  “Suzie, what makes you think your husband was cheating on you?”

  “What doesn’t?” She sighed. “First, he has before—three times—and I’ve caught him every time.” She sighed. “It’s always the same thing… getting late night texts, long meetings after work, he gets in the shower immediately when he gets home. All the classic signs. Anyway, I let the three before slide, but now, I’ve had it. I’m done with him.”

  “When did the signs begin?”

  “A few months ago.”

  Dixie scribbled on her notepad. “What makes you think he was cheating with Lizzie Meyers, specifically?”

  Suzie pushed off the couch and began pacing. “That blonde bitch would go see him every week, sometimes twice.”

  “Well, she was a pharmaceutical sales rep… that was her job.”

  “Was it her job to stay in his clinic after hours?”

  Dixie raised her eyebrows. “When did you see this?”

  “Twice. It was late at night, and John still wasn’t home, so I drove by the clinic and her little white sports car was out front.”

  “What time?”

  “Past ten at night, both times.”

  Interesting.

  “Did you see John there?”

  “He always parks in the back, and I didn’t want to pull in. But he wasn’t home, so where else would he have been?”

  “Did you check his phone?”

  “He keeps it locked—with a code I don’t know, of course.” Her face squeezed with anger as she gazed out the window and muttered, “Cheating son of a bitch.”

  Dixie paused. “Do you think your husband would kill Lizzie?”

  Suzie’s head snapped toward Dixie. “No doubt in my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “I just do.”

  “Has he ever been physical with you?”

  “Kicked the dogs before.”

  Being on the receiving end of Suzie’s dogs’ welcome, that wasn’t a stretch to imagine. But kicking a dog doesn’t exactly make him a murderer—asshole, yes, but murderer, no.

  “Has he ever put his hands on you?”

  “No, he knows I’d kick his ass.”

  “Okay, so if he did it, what’s the motive? Why would he kill Lizzie?”

  Suzie sipped—taking a moment to choose her words carefully. “Maybe he knew I’d hired you—he knew he was going to get caught and the little blonde bitch would admit to everything. He knew I’d leave him this time.” She narrowed her eyes. “And, Miss Knight, he knew I would bleed him for every single penny he has.” Pause. “Money makes people do crazy things, you know.”

  Dixie nodded—in her line of work, she’d seen the poisoning effect money had on people and how it changed them to the very core. The desperation, the greed, the obsession.

  A moment of silence dragged out. Dixie leaned forward. She had another angle she needed to explore—delicately.

  “Let’s go back to Monday night. Did your husband come home right after work?”

  “Yes, well, he got home around seven, I think, and we had dinner.” Suzie sat down and coaxed her quivering poodle onto her lap.

  “And what did you do after dinner?”

  “I went upstairs and took a long bath. I fell asleep in the tub, and when I woke up, I got into bed.”

  Fell asleep, or passed out?

  “You didn’t go anywhere after dinner?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t leave the house at all?”

  “No.”

  “And you didn’t see or communicate with your husband after dinner?”

  “No.”

  “So, really, he could’ve gone somewhere.”

  “Yes.”

  And, so could’ve you.

  “Did you speak with anyone—call, text, anything, that night?”

  “No.” She cocked her head. “Why are you asking me this?” Suddenly, her pointy eyebrows shot up. “Unless you’re checking to see if I have an alibi for Monday night.”

  “I’m just being thorough, ma’am.”

  Suzie surged to her feet, sending her poodle tumbling to the floor, and sloshing wine on the couch. “I’m sure as hell not paying you to interrogate me, Miss Knight.”

  “This is hardly an interrogation, Mrs. Blevins.”

  “I said to call me Suzie—I hate that last name.”

  The dog whimpered at Suzie’s feet as she glowered at Dixie. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.” She stomped to the front door and yanked it open. “Miss Knight, you have twenty-four hours to prove that my husband killed Lizzie Meyers. If not, I fire you and keep the deposit.”

  Dixie calmly raised off the chair and walked to the door. With barely a smile—a smug smile—she said, “It was such a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Blevins.”

  And with that, the door slammed behind her.

  CHAPTER 12

  It was almost six o’clock as Dixie turned onto the long, icy driveway of Black Rose Investigations.

  Stan the weatherman was right—it had snowed all day, which made for a hell of an afternoon staking out Dr. Blevins, his wife, and Black Magic Balik, as well as doing surveillance for a few other cases she was working on. Dr. Blevins never left his office, Suzie stayed in her penthouse suite, and not surprisingly considering the weather, the witch didn’t step foot outside, not even to feed the four black cats that roamed the grounds.

  Edward Rossi’s story about the dead cat on Lizzie’s doorstep the morning she went missing didn’t sit well with Dixie—it certainly had Balik’s name writt
en all over it. On the other hand, maybe the cat was sick, or attacked by an animal, and just so happened to die on Lizzie’s doorstep… or maybe the story wasn’t true at all.

  She pulled around to the back of the house, sliding on a patch of ice before finally coming to a stop.

  Damn bald tires.

  She grabbed her purse, briefcase, her folders and jogged to the back door. After wiping her boots on the Go Away mat, she stepped inside.

  “Hey, Dixie.”

  “Hey, Raven. What’re you still doing here?”

  “Wrapping up a few things. Need some help?” She grabbed the folders from Dixie’s hands.

  “Thanks.” She shimmied out of her coat and hung it up. “It’s really coming down out there.”

  “Hell of a day for stalking people.”

  “Tell me about it. I’ve drank, like, six cups of coffee today—mainly to stay warm.”

  “How was the wife?”

  “Suzie?” Dixie started toward her office, with Raven at her side. “Not quite as crazy as everyone says she is, but a pistol, no doubt about it. Hates her husband. Hates Lizzie even more.”

  “Enough to kill her?”

  “She says she was home Monday night and didn’t leave the house.” She cut Raven a glance. “But has no alibi.”

  “And, neither does he, right?”

  “Right.”

  Dixie flicked on her office light, tossed her purse on the floor and sank into her chair. “What did you dig up on John’s receptionist, Tanya White?”

  Raven glanced down at her notebook. “Twenty-four, former college cheerleader, majored in Communications, loves cats and hates seafood. Dropped out of college, moved back in with her parents, a few towns over, and couldn’t find a job until she came across the help wanted ad for John’s clinic. Got the job and moved here. She rents a cute little house on the lake, not too far from here actually.”

  “On the lake, huh?”

  “Yep, boat dock and everything.”

  “Boyfriends?”

  “No, she bitches about being single on social media, but she did recently post a comment about older men and how they really know how to handle themselves—sexual innuendo written all over it.”

  “Older men?” Dixie leaned back. “Interesting.”

  “Thought so too.” She tossed a piece of paper on the desk. “Here’s the printout of all the employees at Den Care Clinic, past and present.”