“That’s because you live on sugar and starch, whereas my body is a temple. Plus the fact that I actually use my gym membership.” He gave me a pointed look, one of those meant to instill guilt, but I looked up at the ceiling and started to whistle. I was a master evader of the guilt trip.
But Jack was right about one thing, there was no way I was going to give up powdered donuts to make my body a temple for anyone. Men liked a little softness to their women, right?
“Harvey,” I finally said, putting my fingers at the pulse on his neck. It was rapid, but strong. “Harvey, can you hear me?” Startled blue eyes opened, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Amanda?” he asked. He looked lost and old, fragile.
“I’m sorry about your wife, Harvey. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?”
He sat up slowly and Jack and I sat in the dainty Queen Anne chairs across from him. Jack looked at Harvey with sympathy, and I knew this was harder for him than he let on. It was never easy dealing with grief, whether it was your own or someone else’s.
“We need to do this by the book, Harvey,” Jack said, “So we can find who did this to your wife.”
“Yes. Do whatever you need to do,” he said. His eyes were dilated and his voice shook slightly. “I understand the process and that I would logically be your number one suspect. But I assure you, I did not kill my wife.”
“Can you tell us your whereabouts between seven and noon yesterday morning?” Jack asked.
“I was here,” Harvey said. He touched the little lace doilies that sat on the coffee table, a telling nervous habit. He knew about the affair, I realized. But he didn’t want to talk about it because then it would become real in his mind.
“You know I had too much to drink Saturday night, Jack. I was upset about things and wasn’t thinking straight. And then Bob just compounded those problems by being Bob. Let me tell you, holidays have been hell the last twenty years when you have a father-in-law that would sooner serve you up on a platter rather than a turkey,” he said with a rusty laugh.
“But what you said to me Saturday night brought some of my common sense back, and I realized I was making a fool of myself. So I came back home like you told me to and slept it off. I didn’t wake up until after ten.”
“Did you go out after you woke up?”
“No, I stayed here all day. I know it was my duty as a councilman to go to Fiona’s funeral, but I just didn’t feel up to it. I was feeling sorry for myself, and the last thing I wanted was to go out in public.”
“Were you and your wife having problems?” Jack asked softly.
Harvey nodded his head slowly, his eyes devastated but still dry. “It started just over a year ago. Look at me. I’m sixty-three years old, Jack, and she’s a thirty-eight year old woman in the prime of her life. Bob should have shot me down for running off with his baby. But I loved her. Still love her. My youngest is eighteen now, just started college in the fall. I don’t know what I’d do if a man old enough to know better came along and snatched her away from me.”
“You fought over your age difference?” Jack asked.
I was completely surprised by this whole thing. I never would have guessed the Wallace’s were having marital problems. They always seemed so happy together. It proved that no one really knew what went on behind closed doors.
“I asked her how she could still be attracted to me, still love the old man I’ve become. I’m not as good looking as I used to be. I have mirrors,” he said, bitterly. “In my day I could have had any woman I wanted. She told me I was being silly, and she wanted to go see a marriage counselor.”
Jack and I exchanged looks, remembering the therapist we’d already had one run in with. But I also remembered that Dr. Hides had told us he wasn’t a marriage counselor.
“Did you go?” I asked.
“No. I told her I wasn’t going to see a shrink to tell me I should’ve married someone my own age. That made her cry because she didn’t think I loved her any more. I told her if it would make her feel better to see a shrink to go right ahead, but she could do it without me. She took me up on it too. Didn’t speak to me for almost a week after that little fight.”
“Do you have the contact information for her doctor?” Jack asked.
“It’s probably in her Rolodex,” he said. “I’ll see if I can find it for you.” He got up and headed to a back room where I assumed her office was located. I took a minute to look around the room while he was gone. It was a cozy house in good repair. Amanda Wallace had obviously been very traditional in her decorating tastes. And expensive. If I wasn’t mistaken, her dining room table and other various pieces were all Hepplewhite.
The sofa print was of large faded cabbage roses and a Persian rug was on the floor. I let my mind wander while looking over the room. Dr. Hides did seem to be in the middle of it all.
“I don’t believe in coincidences, Jack.”
“Me either, but let’s see who the doctor is before we jump to conclusions.”
Harvey came back with a business card and gave it to Jack with a shaking hand. He didn’t bother to sit back down.
“She was with a lover, wasn’t she?” Harvey asked Jack directly, his face blank of any emotion for the first time.
Jack looked at him with sympathy. “We believe so, yes. It’s our number one priority to find out who the last person to see her alive was.”
“I almost don’t even want to know who it was. It’s my own fault, you know? I didn’t touch her in over a year. I just didn’t see how she could want me. Sexually. I’d told myself I’d rather do without her than think she was pretending when she was in my bed.”
There was nothing I could say or do to relieve Harvey Wallace of the grief and guilt he was feeling over his dead wife. Some things were set in motion long before people like me ever came to the scene.
“I wish I could tell you who he was, but I was just starting to suspect myself,” he said, getting a grip on his thoughts. “I don’t mean to rush you out, but I need to find a way to tell my children their mother is dead. We’ll be in tomorrow, Dr. Graves, to discuss funeral preparations. Unless you need to see me sooner.”
“Actually, it would be best if you can come in this afternoon and complete the paperwork. It’ll take a couple of days before she’ll be ready for the viewing because of the autopsy. You can always come back tomorrow with your children and make arrangements for the preparations.” He was silent, just staring blankly at me as if my words hadn’t yet penetrated. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he said and shut the door behind us.
“Well?” I asked.
“Let’s go pay a visit to Dr. Hides. I think he needs to have an ironclad alibi for yesterday morning or he’s going to find himself under arrest.”
“Before we start dragging people away in shackles, would you mind if we got something to eat? I’m starving.”
“When aren’t you starving?” Jack asked. “Where do you want to stop?”
“Martha’s,” I said automatically. “I need a burger with the works.” Martha’s was a burger institution in Bloody Mary. Martha herself had been behind the counter for the last sixty years serving breakfast, lunch and dinner.
“The writer’s not going to want to play kissy-face next time you see him if you get a burger with the works.”
“The writer will want to play kissy-face at any opportunity he can find. The man is a machine.”
“You serious about this guy?” Jack asked, pulling into the parking lot at Martha’s Diner.
“I think I could be,” I said. “I’m trying not to let myself.”
“Why not?”
“He reminds me of you.”
“Like hell,” Jack said loud enough to have a couple of diners look in our direction.
“You’d be surprised,” I said. “I don’t know, Jack. I’m getting to that point in my life where I’m ready to settle down with someone. Maybe have a couple of kids. I’m not sure
if Brody’s anywhere near ready for that. I’ve got to prepare myself for when he moves on.”
“Or he could decide to stay. He looked pretty serious about you when I saw you together earlier today.”
“I think that was more of his effort to try and mark his territory while you were around.” We placed our orders and Martha made no secret about eavesdropping in on our conversation. It wasn’t until Jack grabbed the bags to go that she decided to put in her two-cents.
“You know, J.J. If you’re wantin’ to get pregnant so bad all you’ve gotta do is start pokin’ holes in his rubbers. That’s a sure-fire way to get knocked up in no time. That’s how I ended up with my youngest.”
“Thanks, Martha,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I wondered how long it would take for that bit of information to reach Brody’s ears. I’d probably have to buy him an unopened box as a peace offering.
We took our burgers to go and ate them in the car. “How did things go with Floyd at the station?” I asked around a bite of burger. Grease dripped from the bottom and landed on the paper sack in my lap.
“He’d lawyered up by the time I got there, and his attorney advised him to cooperate. Floyd said he was home alone the night of Fiona’s murder, and he claimed he was at the Gazette office during the time of Amanda Wallace’s murder. He doesn’t have anyone that can confirm his whereabouts for either.”
“So what did you do with him?”
“In exchange for his cooperation I dropped the assault charges, and I told him not to leave town.”
“That’s it?” I asked incredulous. “The guy’s the best suspect we have. He would have pounded you to a pulp in the hall if it hadn’t been full of cops.”
“Thanks so much for your faith in my physical prowess,” Jack said, looking pained. “We don’t have any evidence to hold him. Floyd knows that and so did his attorney. We don’t have shit,” he said, slamming his fist against the dashboard.
I knew from experience that the best course of action was to pretend I was invisible, so Jack and I finished our burgers in silence—his thoughts getting heavier the longer we sat there.
“Jaye,” he said. “You’re not going to like what I’m thinking.”
“What is it?”
“You don’t think Dickey could be Amanda Wallace’s lover, do you?”
I started to say no automatically, just because it was Dickey. My friend Dickey. But then I stopped to think about the things he’d said to us at the bank. About him being tired of Candy and the baby pressures from Vanessa. And then I thought about what he said he’d like to do to his wife. Not good timing.
“I don’t know, but maybe we’d better ask him,” I said.
“Yeah, let’s swing by the bank. This is sure to be pleasant.” Jack started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
“You don’t really think Dickey could have anything to do with these murders?” I asked.
“No, I don’t, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make sure. After all, I’ve been known to make mistakes on the job before.”
“What happened in D.C. wasn’t your fault,” I said. “You were following orders. Maybe you should make an appointment with Dr. Hides to resolve this guilt you seem to be carrying around.”
“Shut up,” he snarled. “I’m not carrying around guilt.”
“Whatever you say Mr. Denial. But I’m here to listen if you ever need a sounding board.”
“More like a concrete wall,” he muttered, whipping the car into a parking space in front of the bank. I slammed against the seatbelt and muttered a curse as one of my onion rings fell to the floorboard.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I asked.
“Nothing. Let’s just get this done so we can get to Dr. Hides’ place before something else happens.”
“Hey, when it rains it pours, my friend. Take it from me. This is my life.”
It felt good to step into the heated lobby of the bank. It looked much different than it had the day before. Every desk was occupied and the teller lines each ran three people deep. The smell of coffee was strong and fragrant, and I realized it had been a while since my last hit of caffeine. I’d had too little sleep and way too much stimulation to go for too much longer without falling over from exhaustion.
“Get it on the way out,” Jack said. He always had the uncanny knack of knowing just what I was thinking. He took hold of my elbow in case I made any detours and headed towards Dickey’s office.
Vanessa Hart sat in the cherry wood desk and guarded the gate to the inner sanctum like nobody’s business. And she was not a happy woman. Her mink colored hair practically sizzled with electricity, and she was filing the hell out of her nails. Red slashes of color tinged her cheeks and her normally friendly blue eyes shot sparks.
“We’re here to see Dickey,” Jack said cautiously.
She continued to file her nails and swing her crossed leg until I thought her shoe would fly off and hit some poor unsuspecting shmoe trying to withdraw from his checking account.
“I’m supposed to tell anyone who asks that Dickey is not available right now. He’s engaged in extremely important banking business. I should also let you know that I’m only a secretary. Nobody important,” Vanessa said with a choked sob.
We’d obviously come at a bad time. It was no doubt Dickey’s fault. It’s what he deserved for bringing his relationship into the workplace. Not to mention into his marriage.
“But you know what?” she asked, though I didn’t think she really wanted an answer.
“I’m through.” She stood and grabbed her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk. “I’m through with wasting my life on a man who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. I’m through with this job and making this bank a well-oiled machine. I’m tired of standing in the shadows. I want things to go my way for once. I want someone who loves me, and I want children goddamn it,” she yelled at Dickey’s closed door. “I’m thirty years old, and I can feel my inside parts starting to shrivel up and die.”
I knew where she was coming from. I’d started having crazy thoughts about marriage and children when I’d turned thirty, too. I wasn’t so sure about the insides drying up part though. That seemed a little irrational, and I wasn’t quite on the ledge looking down yet.
“You can go in if you want to,” Vanessa said, smoothing her expression back to not so crazy. “He can find someone else to do his dirty work from now on. I quit.” She stormed off with the rapid click of her heels beating steady against the marble floor and her coat slung over her shoulder. I was pretty sure her temper was hot enough that she wouldn’t be needing the jacket for a while.
I looked at Jack and gave a little shrug. “You go in first,” I said. “Just in case.”
Jack rolled his eyes and knocked once before opening Dickey’s office door. Dickey was chugging Pepto-Bismol straight out of the bottle. His tie was loose and twisted over his shoulder, his hair stuck up in spikes and his eyes had bags underneath big enough to house orphans.
“What?” Dickey snarled. “Can’t you see I’m having a crisis here?” He went back to chugging the Pepto, and I pushed Jack forward slightly. I was pretty sure neither one of us had seen Dickey less than perfectly presentable. He was one of those people who could run five miles in the desert and go ten rounds with the champ and still have every hair in place.
“Well, I think things just got worse,” Jack said, for some reason looking more cheerful than I’d seen him in days. He was enjoying Dickey’s dilemmas. It was like watching a soap opera come to life. “Your secretary just quit.”
“Perfect,” Dickey said. “That’s just perfect. Christ, what else could go wrong?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I were you,” I said. “It might speed up the process.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do? Didn’t I tell Candy that I wanted a divorce?” He was sweating and turning an unhealthy shade of red.
I was surprised by this bit of news but worried about Dickey. “Calm down an
d take a few deep breaths, Dickey. You don’t look so good. I only have a limited amount of space in my freezer, and I’d prefer to keep you from taking up residence there.”
“Believe me, death would be a welcome relief,” he said.
“What did Candy say when you asked for a divorce?” Jack asked. I winced because Dickey’s color was starting to look normal again.
“She laughed at me,” he said, getting worked up again. “Can you believe she actually laughed? She said it would be a cold day in hell before I left her for another woman, and she’d make sure I’d end up a pauper. She threatened to take the bank in the divorce. I don’t even know if she can do something like that.”
“If you asked for a divorce then why did Vanessa just quit?” I asked. It was my turn to be nosy.
“Because when I came in this morning I had to tell her it wasn’t possible for me to leave Candy right now. I don’t want to be a pauper,” he said, perilously close to a whine. “I’ve never been one before, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like it.”
I had to agree. Being poor sucked.
“But Candy has turned into one crazy bitch. There’s no way I’m going home tonight. I’d love to marry Vanessa and give her all the kids she wants, but I just don’t see how I can.”
“Maybe you should talk to an attorney,” Jack suggested. “I’m sure there’s a way to keep the bank in your possession. It’s been in your family for generations.”
“You think so?” Dickey asked, but he didn’t look too sure.
“Or maybe you can find some dirt on Candy to help her loosen the reins a little bit.” Dickey seemed to perk up at this idea. Nothing like a little blackmail to get the bloodstream moving.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” He looked so relieved that I didn’t bother to remind him that he had a long uphill battle ahead with not one, but two women.
“Dickey, I hate to do this, but we didn’t come here to solve your problems. I need to ask you a few questions. In an official capacity,” Jack said.
“Why, what’s happened?” he asked, nervous all of a sudden.
“Can you tell me your whereabouts Saturday night, from about eight o’clock on?” Jack asked.
Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series Page 13