“I said I’m used to that reaction from other people. I didn’t say I was used to it from my friends. Dana is supposed to be my friend, too, and if you find his skepticism fine and dandy, that’s how you feel. I don’t feel the same way.”
“And I’m simply saying, from my perspective, he’s allowed time to adjust and come to grips with his beliefs and reality.”
I pulled my hand from Win’s and began to clean up the mess, making piles. “He can take all the time he needs. I’ve worked around him on a murder investigation before, and I’ll do it again, but they’re all wrong to accuse Cleo of murder. I know she didn’t kill Doug. I know it, but now that they have her in custody, who knows when we’ll be able to talk to her or get Carys to come back.”
Win knelt next to me and began making his own pile. “That may be sooner than you think, my Dove.”
I snorted my disagreement. “They accused her of murder, Win. I doubt she’ll get bail—even if it’s likely only her first offense.”
Win’s sly smile made me pause, and my pulse picked up the pace as he said, “She might if Luis helps.”
Dropping the piece of wood I held, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You called him?”
Luis, in case you’ve forgotten, is our attorney extraordinaire. He can fix almost anything. He sure got me out of a jam a time or two.
Win’s eyes twinkled and he winked. “I did, Dove…but he has his work cut out for him.”
Instantly, I was worried again. “You don’t think he can get her bail?”
Win’s sigh was long, and I think I sensed some hesitation as he released me and stood, putting his hands in his pockets. “Well, there’s this one small bit of information that could present a hiccup with not only her bail, but her innocence.”
My eyes narrowed again. “A hiccup?”
Win’s face was grim. “A rather large one, I’d say. I heard Detective Starsky’s answer when Cleo asked why she was being arrested.”
I scrunched my eyes shut and winced. “What was the answer?”
“They have her on camera…leaving the scene of the crime.”
Drat.
Chapter 11
“You don’t really believe Cleo killed her ex, do you, Win?” I asked a couple of hours after they’d taken her away.
He scowled. “I most certainly do not, but I’d give an ungodly amount of money to see the evidence they have to prove she was at the scene of the crime. Starsky said, and I repeat, ‘we have you on camera, leaving the scene of the crime,” Win repeated, in probably one of the worst New York accents I’d ever heard.
Wrinkling my nose, I laughed at him. “Yikes. That was horrible.”
“My accent or the evidence?”
“Both.” Sighing, I grabbed the broom again and continued to sweep. “So do you think Starsky was just blowing hot air, or do you think he really has her on camera? Because I think we both know he can be a real jerkface and make things up if they support his case. I know that firsthand.”
I’d been through an interrogation with Detective Moore and he was all bother and bluff, but if you were easily intimidated, I could see being afraid of him, and I hated the idea Cleo was in some dark room, cowering while he screamed at her. Knowing Luis was on his way made everything better.
“I would certainly hope he wasn’t bluffing to try and get her to admit something before questioning her thoroughly. Isn’t that entrapment of some kind? Or is it leading the witness? I find the American court systems so confusing.”
Shrugging, I replied with only a little sarcasm, “I don’t know. Ask your tattletale friend Dana. He’s well-versed in the law. I know because he throws it in my face every chance he gets.”
Win’s handsome face fell. “Now, Dove. I won’t have this come between us. If you’d like, I’ll wrestle Dana to the ground, put him in a choke hold and bloody refuse to let go until he agrees to believe we, as a team, see and hear ghosts.”
The mental imagery made me laugh out loud, but I shook my head and sighed. “I don’t want that.”
“Then what do you want, beloved? I’m always on your side and your side alone—no matter the circumstance. If it troubles you that Dana isn’t all the way there, I won’t see him until he is.”
My heart shifted in my chest, but that wasn’t at all what I wanted, either. “No. He’s your friend, and he should remain so if you’re not upset by him essentially calling you a liar. As an ex-spy, I guess you’re used to waiting around for a solution. Your patience is much more bountiful than mine. I, on the other hand, need space. But I would never tell you that you can’t remain friends with someone you care so much about. That’s not how we work.”
“Thank the bloody stars,” Win joked, wiping his hand across his brow in a comical gesture. “I was worried I’d have to give up his artichoke dip on NFL Sundays. You know how much I cherish that dip, Dove.”
I had to agree, it was pretty stinkin’ good. But not good enough to sway me to ignore my hurt feelings.
With a chuckle, I said, “I do, but get the recipe in case things go south. Anyway, let’s put all talk of Dana the Distrustful on the back burner for now. I’m more concerned for Cleo. She must be scared half out of her wits. We need to find out what that evidence Starsky’s talking about could be. As in, what exactly do they have on camera, and how can we get our hands on it?”
Win grabbed me around the waist and kissed the tip of my nose. “Before we’re knee-deep in alibis and alleged evidence, my Mini-Spy, let me simply say, no matter what, I must hear you acknowledge that I am always on your side. You do understand that? If you’re uncomfortable about my friendship with Dana, if you feel it’s such a slight to your morals, I’ll bow out. Tactfully, of course, but bow out nonetheless.”
I smiled at him before letting my head rest on his strong shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne lingering on his shirt. I didn’t want that. I loved that he loved us and our relationship above all else.
I’m not sure if I was being petty at this point; or if I was simply tired of finally coming out of the shadows and revealing my genuine self, only to have Dana question my validity—my truth. I was insulted.
It didn’t bother Win the way it did me, probably because, as I said, he could see the other side, a side I’ve never been privy to. I’d never ask him to give up a friend unless the friend was really a monster. Dana wasn’t a monster. He was just being a doodiehead, for lack of a better word.
“No. That’s not at all what I want, Win. I would never ask you to give up a friendship just because Dana’s being a doodiehead, but if you still want to wrestle him to the ground, you won’t hear me complain.”
Win tipped his head back and laughed, the rumble deep and husky. “A doodiehead, eh? Indeed, never was there a more sophisticated choice of words to describe your ire with him, my Dove.”
I rolled my eyes and snickered. “Whatever. Let’s get on with this. Cleo needs our help. She was hysterical when they dragged her out of here, and I can’t bear the thought of her alone and frightened while Starsky breathes down her neck with his garlic breath.”
Another rumble of Win’s chuckle eased my worries. “Well then, shall we begin figuring out who killed the very unfaithful Doug?”
“I’m in if you’re in. Where do you want to start?”
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and scrolled his text messages with a slight frown. “Shall we start with Luis, who’s asked us to meet with him at Strange Brew?”
“He’s here from Seattle already?”
Win gave me a quick nod. “We got lucky. Apparently, he was handling something not far from here.”
My stomach plummeted to the ground and my hands grew clammy. “Is everything okay? Is Cleo okay? Has he talked to her?”
He scanned the text with serious eyes. “Luis doesn’t say. Why don’t we go find out?”
Win held out his arm to me and I took it, my heart thrashing around in my chest like a fish out of water.
“L
uis, my good man! Always a pleasure to see you.” Win held out his hand with a jovial smile.
Luis gave him an odd look. Even though he’d spoken with Luis several times by phone since his reincarnation, they’d never met in person. Win was still a ghost the first time he’d had me contact Luis to retain him as my attorney.
I gave Win a covert pinch to his lean waist and smiled at Luis before giving him a hug. “He means it’s nice to finally meet you after all this time, Luis. He forgets you’ve never met except over the phone because you feel like old friends. Must have been that knock to his noggin, right, honey?” I asked Win, using my eyes to signal his faux pas.
Win grinned with a nod. “Of course, Dove. You’re right. We’ve chatted so much about financials and wills and such over these last months, it feels like I already know you.” Pulling a wrought-iron chair out for Luis, he motioned for him to sit. “Please, join us, won’t you?”
Luis smiled, but it was brief before he settled in and one of the waitresses took our order. As he pulled papers from the briefcase he’d set on the new butcher-block tables Forrest had installed, from behind his glasses, he looked at us both with a somber face. “This one’s quite a pickle, Stevie. Cleo’s in a bit of a jam.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I winced, shifting on the hard wrought-iron chair’s wood seat and fingering the bud vase with a single daisy. “How sticky is the jam? Win told me the police have evidence. That wasn’t just Detective Moore posturing?”
“The police have alleged evidence she was at the scene of the crime,” Luis confirmed.
My stomach fell back to the floor. “So it was true? Win heard Detective Starsky…er, I mean Detective Moore, tell Cleo they had evidence, but I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth because I think we all know he’ll say anything to get a confession. So what do they have?”
His sigh was long, the kind of sigh that said, “For the love of the law, Stevie Cartwright, can’t you, for once, trip over a case that’s simple? Why does it always have to be mired knee-deep in overwhelming muck?”
Luis took his glasses from his face and squeezed his temples before he answered. “Surveillance video from the motel of who the police allege is Cleo leaving the crime scene.”
I couldn’t find words, but Win found them for me. “And they can prove it’s Cleo in the video?”
Luis tapped a perfectly manicured nail on the table “Well, therein lies the rub. It certainly shows someone leaving the crime scene. You can see it’s Mr. Wallace plain as day when someone, off camera, pushes him into the chair, cake server in his head and all. Clearly, this was after whatever had landed the cake server in his head already took place. An argument, I suppose—something that happened off camera. However, the face in the video, the face of the killer, is masked by a hoodie, but the hoodie is most definitely Cleo’s. She admitted as much to the police. Also, Doug Wallace’s blood spatter was found on the jacket. It’s certainly enough to hold her.”
Oh, holy night.
My fingers trembled as I looked past Luis’s shoulder at the shiplap wall behind the register, painted an attractive charcoal black, while I tried to gather my thoughts.
“Where was the hoodie found?” I asked.
“In a garbage can in the hallway of The Cozy Nook motel.”
Yet still, even with this kind of evidence, I didn’t believe Cleo had killed Doug. I rubbed my temples and squeezed them with two fingers to relieve the tension.
“Add in the strife their marriage was experiencing,” Win said, “and the fine chaps of Eb Falls Police Department think Cleo had the perfect motive to kill him.”
Luis nodded his graying head at Win. “Precisely. They have cause to hold her until a bail hearing is set. But I do have a bit of good news that might work in our favor.”
Perking up as the waitress set our round white mugs in front of us, I asked hopefully, “Good news? I’m all for good news.”
Luis held up a piece of paper that looked like a printed report. “Naturally, a preliminary finding discovered Cleo’s DNA on the jacket—which is expected. Hair fibers, etc.—but there were other strands of hair as well.”
Hope sprang in my heart. I grabbed Win’s hand and squeezed. “Whose hair?”
“Miss Prince’s, and Doug’s chest hair…and an as-yet-unidentified hair.”
I sighed. I wasn’t so sure that was such a find—well, except for the unidentified hair. That was at least a little something.
“Well, Linda and Cleo were sharing a room, so that makes sense, and she’s Tammy’s matron of honor, and Leslie… Well, Leslie, who’s horrible on all counts by the way, is a friend, too. It would make sense if all of their hair might be on Cleo’s jacket. Is that such a big find after all?”
Luis’s brows smushed together with concern. “I don’t know. We’ll have a more comprehensive report about samples collected and the murder weapon shortly. I’m on it, but it does give me hope I might be able to at least sway the narrative a bit in front of a judge, if I can create enough reasonable doubt.”
Win sat back in his chair, curling his tanned fingers around the mug’s handle. “Did Cleo mention whether she wore the hoodie the night of the murder?”
Luis nodded his head with another raspy sigh. “Unfortunately, she did, and she doesn’t remember taking it off when she arrived back at the motel because, in her words, she was ‘quite lit.’ She was brutally honest with the police. I’ve since put the kibosh on her talking any further without me present, but none of this works in her favor.”
Welp. There went all that stupid hope.
“What about the cake server murder weapon? It’s definitely from Tammy Parker’s wedding. It was engraved with her name—her fiancé’s name, too.”
Luis cast me an odd glance. “Do I want to know how you know this detail?”
I patted his hand and shot him a soothing smile. “Probably not, Mr. Attorney at Law, but I’m going to tell you anyhoodles. We took pictures of the crime scene and blew them up and I read what it said. Surely that casts doubt on Tammy, doesn’t it?”
Luis’s lips popped their disapproval, but he didn’t scold me and that was a nice change. “Certainly, it’s something that should be examined closely. It’s definitely on my list. But do remember, Cleo is a part of that wedding party, Stevie. She likely had as much access as Miss Parker, Miss Prince, and Miss Cleary.”
“My guess is you know about the charm they found from Cleo’s bracelet at the scene, as well, good sir?” Win asked.
Luis scowled, his aging jowls sagging. “I do. I surely wish I didn’t have all this physical evidence against her. Cleo claims it must have fallen off when Doug grabbed her and tried to convince her to come back to him, or it’s possible it got stuck on his sweater and fell off.”
Win’s wince said it all. None of this boded well for Cleo. “So they argued at the pond then?”
“They did, but Cleo claims it was much earlier in the evening—before the bachelorette festivities began, and he was fully clothed then.”
Nodding, I added, “That’s what she told us.” Suddenly, a million questions were buzzing in my brain. “Hey, here’s something to chew on. Was Doug staying at The Cozy Nook, too?”
“There was no reservation at any of the lodging available in Eb Falls for Mr. Wallace. Though, they have located his van parked a block from the motel and are, of course, processing it with everything else. However, I’m under the impression he had no money to make a reservation for so much as dinner, let alone a motel room. Cleo presumed he was likely staying in his van.”
That made me wonder something else. “Any thoughts on where Doug’s sweater went or why he was half-naked? Have the police found it yet?”
A frowning Luis always made me nervous, so his answer surprised me. “No idea. But they’re canvassing the area for any evidence at all. Though as I said, when Cleo saw him, she claimed he was fully clothed.”
As the jazz music played over the coffee shop’s sound system, and I processed what Luis
told us, that was when I remembered what Linda said about peeking in on Cleo.
I gripped Luis’s forearm in my excitement. “Wait. Did she also tell you that Linda Prince saw her in bed in their shared motel room at three in the morning?”
“She did, and she told me Linda saw Tammy Parker and Leslie Cleary in their rooms asleep, as well. Thus, Linda Prince is one of the first people I plan to speak with. However, as of this moment, the task at hand is to find out whether we can obtain bail and what in heaven’s name it will be. I’m positive it will be exorbitant, if it even comes to fruition.”
Win held up his hand. “As I told you on the phone, we’ll take care of bail, Luis. No worries there. You focus on the case. Anything else we should know—or rather, that you can share?”
Luis sipped his coffee and shook his head. “I don’t have anything else I’m able to share at this point. I can tell you Miss Wallace is terrified, and who can blame her?”
I fretted about her terror for a moment as I sipped my coffee, my heart heavy in my chest. “Has anyone contacted her family? Did one of the ladies do it?”
Luis wiped his mouth with his small square napkin. “They’re on their way back from Colorado as we speak. There was talk of retaining another attorney from Cleo’s father, a Mr. Chase, but when I told him the fees were handled, they were more than happy to let me deal with things for the moment.”
Frowning, I looked at Luis in confusion. “I thought Cleo came from money?”
Win’s laugh was rich and knowing, making some of the ladies in the shop turn their heads and sigh with a smile. “That’s how the wealthy become wealthier. They allow someone else to foot the bill.”
Luis chuckled as well, his round face splitting into a grin. “No truer words. No truer words, my friend.” He rose, stuffing the papers back into his briefcase and eyeing us closely. “And now, I must attend to Cleo’s affairs. Of course, if you have anything to add to this, I trust you’ll call me?”
Where There's A Witch, There's A Way (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 13) Page 10