“So help you what?” Leslie snarled, tucking her dark hair behind her ears as though preparing for a boxing match.
I’d had enough of their bickering, but I’d especially had enough of Leslie always growling. She held up any progress we hoped to make.
“Excuse me, but I don’t have to do this,” I reminded Leslie in a pointed fashion, my glare of discontent obvious. “I don’t have time to waste while you two argue. Linda’s right. Your friend’s in a great deal of trouble. Either you can help or we can move on. The choice is yours, Leslie.”
Leslie flopped down on the couch with a grunt. “Fine, but I won’t like it.”
Win grunted his discontent in return, but he kept his opinions of Leslie to himself.
As I sat in the opposing winged chair, I looked Leslie in the eye, tucking my purse on my lap. “This isn’t exactly a trip to Chanel for me, either, Leslie. Now, if you can’t manage to be a civil adult, then we can be on our way.”
“Who’s Chanel?” she asked, her sullen eyes confused.
But Linda flapped her hands in Leslie’s face. “You wouldn’t know Chanel if it came to your house and moved into your guest bedroom. Forget about Chanel. Just be quiet and an answer questions respectfully so we can help Cleo. That’s the point here. Helping our friend. Remember her?”
Leslie leaned back, folding her arms under her breasts and sucked in her cheeks, clearly thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of having to spend even a second with us.
Linda turned and gave us a vague, apologetic smile. “Tammy will be here any minute. She had one last fitting today for her dress and the seamstress was running a bit late.”
I gave Linda a curt nod even though it wasn’t her fault her friend was such a nudge. “Perfect. Thank you for agreeing to meet us.”
Linda blew out a breath of air and gave me a look of disbelief. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t care if you were Satan and all his demons in Hell. If you can help Cleo get out of this mess, I’ll answer whatever questions you have. Around here, people worship you and your detective skills. Plus, Cleo said to ask you for help. I’m all in, and so is Leslie.” She gave Leslie a slap on her denim-clad leg as verification. “Ask away.”
Naturally, I asked her about seeing Cleo in bed in their room, and if it was true Tammy and Leslie were both asleep in their rooms at around three that morning—all of which she answered affirmatively.
Now that I had confirmation, I needed to understand Doug. “You already told me Doug ran around on Cleo, but do you think anyone he’s been involved with would kill him? Do you know of anyone who might have harassed him—or even Cleo? A jealous sidepiece, maybe?”
Leslie snorted, her face twisting in disgust. “Who knows? Doug had ’em all over Seattle. He was a pig, and no one could tell Cleo otherwise until suddenly, she finally comes to her senses and wants a divorce.”
Linda rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance. “That’s because it wasn’t hearsay anymore, Les, and you know it. It’s because she actually saw him with another woman at one of his gigs.”
Leslie made a face at her friend. “And my word wasn’t good enough? I saw him, too, Linda, and I told her I did. She just didn’t want to believe it.”
Hmmm.
Boy, it sure was some stinking pile of poo when you had to share sensitive information with a good friend about their spouse. In my experience, most friendships never recovered. That Leslie and Cleo’s had must be written up as the official eighth wonder of the world.
Win shuffled his feet from behind me where he stood with his hands placed on the back of the floral chair I sat in, but as promised, he didn’t speak a word.
Linda put her hand back on Leslie’s knee and squeezed. “Chill, Leslie. She’s just doing her due diligence.”
“Okay, so the call from last night aside, you’ve caught Doug in the actual act, too, Leslie?”
Leslie licked her lips and nodded, stirring on the mauve-colored couch, but settling back down. “Yep. I sure have. I would have taken a pic to prove it, but my battery on my stupid phone was dead. Otherwise, his vittles would have been roasty-toasty long ago.”
“And you’re still friends?” I blurted my thoughts before I was able to stop them.
“Yeah,” Leslie said defensively. “She was pretty mad, but then the girl I saw him with called him, and she caught him chatting with her on Facebook, she didn’t have a choice but to believe me. That’s when she knew for sure he was a total tool. Though, even then, she still stayed with him.”
Linda’s lips thinned in disapproval at her friend’s words. “She was trying to work things out, Leslie. Don’t mock her for it. Marriage is serious business and Cleo took her vows seriously. She wanted to make things work.”
Leslie sneered. “Infidelity’s serious business, too, Linda. As a matter of fact, none of you wenches believed me when I told you what I saw.”
Linda’s sigh was loud and raspy. “That’s because of what you told—” She shook her head. “Never mind. We didn’t want to believe it any more than Cleo did, okay? Let it go for goodness sake. Dang, you’re the queen of a grudge!”
I ignored their bickering and pressed forward, looking to Leslie. “Would you happen to know the name of this woman he was chatting with?”
“I know,” Tammy called as she rushed toward us, her cheeks flushed as she brought in the scent of the warm afternoon air. She wore a pair of cutoff shorts and a white lace cropped top, showing off her tanned, firm belly. She was the kind of girl who could wear anything, and no matter how mussed, always looked good. “I can bring up her Facebook page if you want. I told Cleo I’d say something to her, but she refused to let me.”
Her fingers flew across her phone, then she handed it over to show me a picture of a petite, dark-haired woman who’d taken a selfie with one of those filters that made you look like a movie star.
“That’s her. Marie Boggs. The dirty…” She didn’t finish her shaming of Marie, but I got the gist of what she thought about her.
“Could you copy that page URL and send it to me, please?” As Tammy did as I asked, I wondered if she could add any more to this conversation than Linda and Leslie could.
“There you go,” she said with a smile, pushing her beautifully highlighted blonde hair from her flawless face as she squeezed between Leslie and Linda on the couch. “Where are you guys at with this and how can I help?”
I looked at her for a moment, wondering if she knew it was her cake server jammed in Doug’s head. They’d all seen him, of course, but I figured I’d better not mention a specific detail regardless. I didn’t need Dana breathing his dragon breath down my neck, irate that I’d let some important detail loose.
Instead, I asked, “Can you think of anyone who’d want to kill Doug, Tammy?”
Her eyes went wide and then she scoffed. “Truth?”
“Please,” I murmured.
“I can think of a zillion people. Doug was a jerk. A hot one, but a jerk. He lied and cheated on Cleo all the time. But I’m sure Linda and Leslie told you that, right?”
“They did. I was hoping for something more specific. Anyone with a grudge? Anyone who bothered Cleo? You know, played the kind of games mistresses play? Calling and hanging up. Stalking Cleo’s phone or social media?”
Tammy and Linda both barked a derisive laugh, but it was Tammy who answered. “I’m pretty sure ‘mistresses’ is too sophisticated a word for the women Doug played around with. Skanky bar babes is more like it. He never kept any of them long enough to call what he did an affair. They were mostly one-night stands meant to stroke his pathetic ego. It was usually over almost as quickly as it started.”
I rolled my tongue along the inside of my cheek to keep from agreeing he was a jerk. “I guess you’re not a fan of Doug either, huh?”
Tammy let her hands drop to her shapely thighs. “Who’s a fan of someone who treats their best friend like something you scrape off the bottom of your shoe? I can’t tell you how many times I found Cleo crying, or she’d ca
ll me up because she was suspicious of what he was doing. It was awful. Almost every second of their marriage was awful.”
Fair answer. “But no one ever approached her who came off as dangerous? No one ever contacted her?”
“The only one we have a face and a name to tack onto in regards to his infidelity is Marie, and that’s only because Cleo caught him messaging her. Everyone else is just faceless groupies,” Linda said, her answer dry and scathing.
“What was he messaging her about? If he was a one-and-done kind of guy, why were they chatting on social media?” I asked.
Tammy made a face of disgust. “Doug wasn’t doing anything. That was all Marie, from what I understand. He made it clear in their messages that it was nothing more than a one-night stand.”
Nodding, I looked at her page on Facebook. “And how did Marie take that?”
Linda lifted her shoulders. “Marie seemed fine with it, if the messages between them mean anything. Cleo let us read the messages to prove it was only a one-night thing, and Marie sure didn’t sound like she’d want to come all the way from Seattle to Eb Falls just to kill him.”
As I scrolled Marie’s page, I asked, “What about the woman Cleo saw him with? The nail in his coffin, so to speak? The one who made her decide to finally leave him? Do you think that person’s capable of killing him?”
Tammy sighed, crossing her tanned legs. “I don’t even know who she is, to be honest. I almost want to shake her hand and thank her for getting Doug caught. It was the last straw for Cleo, and I’m glad. She deserves so much better. Doug was great to look at, but he was a pathetic husband.”
If there was ever a time to rile Leslie and ask her about that phone call, it was the present. But I suddenly found myself worried about what Dana would say, and if he would be angry that I got to her first, leaving me torn.
Win had texted him that Eleanor came to us confidentially, and we’d told her we had no choice but to tell the police because it could be important to the investigation and freeing Cleo, but if I sprung it on Leslie, if she knew someone heard her, would I blow everything up?
Remember that brick wall I mentioned earlier? I was nose to nose with one now. I wasn’t getting anything here that I didn’t already have.
Except maybe the fear that Linda was wrong. “Linda? I hate to ask this, but for the sake of everyone concerned, are you sure you saw Cleo in your bedroom that night?”
Linda bobbed her head, picking at her nail polish. “I’m more than sure. I know she was in bed. I heard her snoring. She always snores when she’s drunk. Everyone was in bed except for…well…except for me.”
“What kind of question is that? Whose side are you on, lady?” Leslie barked, shifting forward on the couch, her fists clenched.
“Leslie, knock it off!” Tammy barked back, putting her arm across Leslie’s chest and forcing her to sit back. “She’s just doing what she’s supposed to, which is ask as many questions as she can. If you don’t like them, then just stay quiet. Lord, you’re like a bomb, always waiting to explode. Madame Zoltar is the best around when it comes to this—it’s what everyone’s been saying. Let her help Cleo!”
“In this Podunk town, I’m not surprised she’s the best they’ve got,” Leslie groused under her breath.
Win stirred behind me, but I rose and put my hand on his arm to let him know, I had this one.
As I stood, I glared down at Leslie, making her shrink against the mauve couch under my sour, disapproving gaze—something that surprised me, but didn’t stop me from unloading on her. Sometimes, you had to face a bully head-on.
“I’ve had absolutely enough of you and your rude, unsolicited opinion. You know what that means? That means if you happen to remember something important that can help your friend’s case, and you care more about Cleo than you do about being so inexplicably rude, you can tell Linda or Tammy to pass it on to me—because this is the absolute last time I’ll ever allow you in my presence. I’ve solved more murders than you have fingers and toes, Leslie Cleary. So put that in your Podunk and smoke it!”
I pivoted and made my way to the automatic doors before I used some of my hard-won spy moves on her. As I pushed my way out into the sunshine, I heard footsteps behind me, and they weren’t just Win’s.
“Madame Zoltar! Wait! Please!”
I turned around at the sound of Tammy’s voice, ready to give her a good dressing down if need be. I’d had enough of being insulted for the next ten years.
Holding up my hand, I shook my head. “Tammy, I’m in no mood. I’ve absolutely had it up to my eyeballs with your friend. I’m only trying to help, and she’s been nothing but horrid. I won’t be spoken to that way.”
But Tammy reached out her hand and lightly grabbed my arm, her cheeks flushed. “Please, wait. I want to explain.”
Win put his arm around me in protective mode. “I do believe my intended made herself quite clear.”
I patted Win’s hand, my burst of anger passing as quickly as it began. “It’s okay. What do you want to explain, Tammy?”
Her pretty face looked secretive and hesitant, but then she said, “There’s a reason Leslie’s so protective of Cleo. A good one.”
I looked at Tammy under the late-day sun and cocked my head. “And that reason is?”
Tammy inhaled and exhaled hard, as though telling us would be painful. “She’s in love with her.”
Chapter 13
I’m mostly sure my mouth didn’t fall open—or at least I hope it didn’t. It would mean I couldn’t count on Win to have my back and keep me from gaping at Tammy.
How had I not seen the way Leslie felt about Cleo from a mile away? Hindsight said she had all the attributes of a jealous lover.
“In love with her?”
Tammy sighed, her cheeks puffing outward. “She’s always been in love with her. Since college, and she hated anyone Cleo dated. At first, we thought she hated Doug for the same reason. So we didn’t pay a lot of attention to his wandering eye—not the way Les did, anyhow.”
If that wasn’t motive to kill Doug, on top of what she’d said to whoever she was talking to on the phone, what was?
“How do you know she’s in love with Cleo? Is that simply a guess?”
Tammy looked down at her sandaled feet. “She confessed to us after Cleo’s bridal shower. We threw her a big bash, and afterward, Cleo went home and the rest of us went out. Leslie was miserable, as usual, and maybe a little drunk on tequila. When we got tired of her complaining about Doug and all the things wrong with him, we kind of cornered her to find out what the problem was. That’s when she confessed.”
Oh, universe. Why would you drop this bomb on me and make me sympathize with Leslie when all I want to do is knock her block off?
Yet, how awful for Leslie to know Cleo would never be anything but her friend. How painful to be tied to that kind of heartbreak and see it over and over, simply because you shared a group of friends. Cleo and Doug had been married a while—which meant Leslie had hidden her feelings for a long time.
Wasn’t that a motive for murder? Wouldn’t that frustrate you no end?
“So Cleo has no idea?” Surely there must have been tons of red flags on Leslie’s part. Leslie wasn’t exactly quiet about anything. How had she remained quiet about her unrequited love?
Tammy’s eyes were sad as she drove her hands into the pockets of her cutoffs. “If she does, she pretends she doesn’t. And who wouldn’t? If Leslie confessed, easily one of them—or maybe even both—would sacrifice their friendships with Linda and I, because well…awkward to say the least, right? There’s no winning. It’s either painful for Leslie to be around Cleo, or uncomfortable for Cleo to be around someone she doesn’t feel the same way about. It’s no-win for all of us.”
When Win finally spoke, he asked the exact question I was already thinking. “Do you think Leslie killed Doug, Miss Parker—because she loved Cleo and he kept hurting her?”
Instantly, Tammy held up her hands. “Heck no! T
hat’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand why Leslie’s so angry and combative about Cleo. She hated Doug, sure, but kill him? No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “No way. She’d never hurt Cleo like that. Les knows Cleo loves Doug, and still does, even after catching him with some skank.”
So all her bluster and gruff was about her feelings for Cleo?
Did I buy that?
Cupping my hand over my eyes to block the glare of the sun, I said, “Thank you, Tammy. Thank you for being honest with us.”
Her expression showed how torn she was. “Promise you won’t say anything to anyone? I mean, I guess she’s not a suspect because she was asleep in the room, but it looks so bad for her. I’ve been fighting with telling you since this happened, but Cleo could be in trouble for murder. Murder. Cleo wouldn’t so much as swat a fly, let alone murder someone.” Tears began to form in her eyes. “I didn’t know what to do, and in the middle of this mess is my wedding, and I’m trying to juggle all the balls, but…it’s murder, for cripe’s sake! And I feel like the worst friend ever for telling you her deepest, darkest secret.”
Reaching out, I gripped her hand. “I understand, Tammy. You had to make a choice, but I think you made the right one. I really do. You do know the police should have this information, right?”
She visibly swallowed, her eyes darting around the parking lot where we stood, and shook her head. “No. Nope. I can’t. I won’t! I only told you because I thought I could trust you with this information. I want to help, not break us all into pieces!”
“But what if Leslie did take matters into her own hands, Miss Parker? Would you have your dear friend blamed—sentenced to life in prison for a murder she didn’t commit?”
Where There's A Witch, There's A Way (Witchless In Seattle Mysteries Book 13) Page 12