Her Eyewitness

by Rita Herron

  “Listen, Raeburn, I don’t intend to let Sydney wind up like her husband.”

  As he hung up the phone, he heard a gasp. He turned to see Sydney standing in the hallway. She was barefoot, wearing a sleeveless black shell and white shorts, the wet strands of her hair falling softly around her face. God, how he wanted to hold her and chase the fear from her troubled blue eyes.

  “I’D LIKE TO MEET Doug’s first wife,” Sydney announced.

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Collin said in a cautious voice.

  “Maybe not But it’s something I have to do.” She studied the plain gold band on her left hand, twisting it around her finger. “I can’t explain it, but I need to meet her.”

  Collin’s eyebrows furrowed in thought for a long moment as he sipped his coffee. “Okay, but I’ll go with you.”

  Sydney hesitated, unable to meet his gaze. “Do you think this woman might know something about Doug’s death?”

  Collin shrugged. “Who knows? It depends on how long it’s been since she’s seen him. She might not have had any contact with him in some time. But it can’t hurt to question her.”

  Oh, yes, it can, Sydney thought, the dull ache inside her intensifying. But she would find the strength to do it, anyway. Doug Green had hurt her enough while he was alive. She wasn’t going to let him destroy her now that he was gone.

  After a strained breakfast, Sydney relented and let Collin drive her car to Charleston to meet Doug’s first wife.

  “Her name is Gina,” Collin said quietly as they approached the city limits.

  Sydney straightened the hem of her black shell, her throat thick as they turned into a tree-lined street with small, neat brick houses. Toys and tricycles littered the-driveways and lawns, and an elderly couple weeded their flower garden. It looked as if the day would be void of sunshine, filled with grueling heat, stormy clouds and humidity made worse by the impending rain.

  Collin slowed the car as they neared a two-story gray house with red shutters that desperately needed a coat of paint. He checked the address and her stomach pitched. If Doug’s first marriage had truly been over, why had he kept it a secret?

  “Are you ready?” He parked in the narrow drive, killed the engine and they both climbed out.

  A small boy of about eight whizzed by on roller blades, circled the drive, then flew down the sidewalk. He circled back and stopped in front of them, his skinny body dressed in a faded T-shirt and worn jeans. “Hey, what ya’ll doing here?”

  A frail, brown-haired woman poked her head out the door. “Jaycee, I told you not to talk to strangers.”

  The boy shrugged and skated off. But not before Sydney noticed his brown eyes. They reminded her of Doug. Was he Doug’s son?

  The woman, wiping her hands on an apron, walked toward them. Her simple cotton dress was obviously chosen for comfort, not style. “Can I do something for you folks?”

  Sydney felt as if her pride had been torn open and scattered on the hot pavement.

  Collin offered her a reassuring smile, then turned to the woman. “We’d like to talk to you, Ms. Waters.” Collin extended his hand and introduced them. ‘This is Sydney Green.”

  Sydney forced a smile past dry lips, studying the woman’s features. She was pretty in an old-fashioned way, wavy, chin-length brown hair, green eyes, nice figure, nothing sensational, but not unattractive. Odd, she couldn’t picture Doug married to this woman.

  “We’d like to talk to you about your ex-husband, Ms. Waters,” Collin said.

  “You’re not from the IRS, are you?” She took a step back. “’Cause I told those people I haven’t seen or heard from Doug in four years. And I don’t aim to pay off his debts.”

  Sydney relaxed slightly, grateful it had been a while since she’d seen Doug. “I don’t understand,” Sydney said. “What debts are you referring to?”

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “Are you from the IRS or not?”

  “No, Ms. Waters,” Collin said. “We’re not with the IRS. We just want to talk to you.”

  Sydney cleared her throat. “You see, Ms. Waters, Doug is dead.”

  Gina Waters brought her hand to her cheek, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “You’re serious?”

  “I’m afraid so, ma’am,” said Collin. “He died a few weeks ago.”

  “How...what happened?”

  “Maybe we’d better sit down.” Collin gestured toward the old metal chairs on the porch.

  “It’s too dang hot to sit out here,” the woman said, palming perspiration from her forehead. “I guess you might as well come on in.”

  Collin placed his hand at Sydney’s elbow and they followed the woman inside. The smell of cabbage and roast beef filled the air and a clock ticked somewhere in the distance. Sydney twisted the ring on her finger, scrutinizing the modest vinyl furniture, the shabby appliances, a scanned oak table. Although the house was nice, it obviously needed some maintenance. Apparently Doug hadn’t been providing his ex-wife with any financial support.

  “Would you like some iced tea or something?” Gina Waters offered.

  “No, thanks,” Collin said. “Sydney?”

  “Water, please.”

  The woman seemed glad to have the simple task to do. She took her time filling two glasses with ice and water from the sink. She clutched one herself, handed Sydney the other and led the way to the living room Sydney positioned herself beside Collin on the couch.

  “Now, who are you folks?”

  “I’m Sydney Green, Ms. Waters,” Sydney began. “Doug and I were married last year.” Her fingers tightened painfully around her glass.

  “I pity you, then,” Gina Waters said. “That man didn’t have a faithful bone in his body.”

  Sydney felt the color drain from her face. Unable to look at Collin, she forced her gaze to remain steady on Doug’s first wife.

  “And you haven’t talked to Doug in the last year or so?” Collin asked.

  The woman waved her hand dismissively. “When I left him, it was good riddance. How did he die, anyway?”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t know about his death. He was murdered,” Collin answered. “The story was in all the papers a few weeks ago.”

  “I’ve got a kid to raise, mister. I don’t have time to read the paper.” Mrs. Waters sipped her drink, then pursed her small mouth. “So he broke down and married again? I never thought he’d do that.”

  Sydney felt Collin’s probing scrutiny, and humiliation burned her face. She traced a bead of water rolling down the side of the jelly-jar glass. “How long were you and Doug married?”

  “About two years,” the woman said, picking up a basket of green beans. “At first I thought we might last. Then he started coming home smelling like cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, said he was out on business dinners, told me all these cockamamy stories about getting rich.” She started stringing the beans, tossing them into a bucket. “But I knew what kind of business he was doing,” she said. “He was making it with everything in a skirt.”

  Sydney absentmindedly twisted her wedding ring again, the metal oddly cold and offensive.

  “Then a man came by one day and claimed Doug had been working with his research company. Said Doug was fudging paperwork, violating FDA standards—that was how he was going to make money.”

  “Did you ask Doug about it?” Collin asked.

  “Didn’t have to. The police came looking for him. Then he ran off.” The beans pinged off the side of the bucket. “I figured he’d gone to that woman over in Summersville. She was the only regular one he kept. The others were just one-nighters.”

  The breakfast Sydney had eaten curdled in her stomach as the last of her feelings for Doug died. How could she have been such a complete idiot and not seen his lies? Because you saw what you wanted to see. A handsome man who whispered all the right things, who promised you a rose garden and a house full of kids—and left you with nothing but thorns.

  “Ms. Waters, thank you for your time. We
’re sorry we disturbed you.” Collin turned to Sydney. “Are you ready to go?”

  Sydney stood and placed her glass on the rickety table, trying to forget her trip down misery lane. “Yes. Thanks, Ms. Waters.”

  “Police don’t know who killed Doug?” Gina asked, glancing at Sydney.

  “Not yet.”

  “Ought to try Doug’s mistress. Maybe she lost it when he married you, instead of her,” Gina suggested. “After all, she’d been warming his bed for so long, she figured she’d be the next in line for marriage.”

  “You have a good point.” Collin withdrew a notepad from his pocket. “Do you know her name?”

  “I can do better than that,” Gina offered. “I can give you her address. Doug didn’t even try to act discreet where this woman was concerned. She even called here a few times asking for him.”

  Sydney scanned the pictures on the side table while the woman located the address. A snapshot of the little boy caught her eye. He was about two years old, his big brown eyes bright with excitement as he reeled in a fish. Sydney couldn’t leave without asking about him.

  “Ms. Waters, is that boy, Jaycee...is he Doug’s?”

  The woman’s face softened. “No, thank the Lord. He was my first husband’s son. Roy was a good man.” Unlike Doug.

  The words lingered in Sydney’s mind as she and Collin drove away. And she wondered if she’d ever be able to trust a man again.

  COLLIN’S HANDS were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel his fingers ached, but he couldn’t show his anger in front of Sydney. Damn Doug Green for all the low, underhanded things he’d done, for the women he’d hurt. Especially Sydney. Even if Green had given him back his eyesight, it appeared to be the only good thing the man had ever done. Seeing the anguish in Sydney’s eyes fueled his anger. And the case wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  Perspiration dampened his neck, soaking his collar. Now they would meet the woman Doug had been having an affair with. And if his suspicions were correct, Sydney’s friend Marla had probably slept with him, and no telling how many others. If one of the women hadn’t killed him, one of their husbands or boyfriends could have, which complicated the case even more.

  He flipped the radio to a soft-rock music station, hoping to soothe some of the tension from the car, then stole a glance at Sydney. She hadn’t spoken or looked at him since they’d settled in the car, and they’d been driving for half an hour. They’d be in Summersville in another five minutes.

  Choosing his next words carefully, Collin cleared his throat, then spoke in a low voice. “I know this is rough on you, Sydney.”

  His comment snagged her attention. She threw a look of disbelief his way, then resumed staring out the window.

  “You don’t have to meet this woman, you know,” Collin said. “I can visit her or we can turn her name over to Sergeant Raeburn and let him question her.”

  Sydney sighed, long and hard. “I have to face it,” she said with surprising conviction. “Doug was murdered and someone is threatening me. I won’t be able to rest until his killer is found.”

  “But you don’t have to actually meet this woman,” he said quietly. “You can leave it up to Raeburn.”

  “I have to do this.” She heaved another sigh. “That stupid cop thinks I killed Doug. He’s not going to listen to anything I have to say. If it were up to him, he’d lock me up and stop hunting for the real killer.”

  Collin reached over and covered her hand reassuringly. But after meeting Raeburn, he had a feeling she was right.

  SYDNEY SAT MOTIONLBSS in the car while Collin turned onto the quiet two-lane street, searching for the address Gina Waters had given him. They passed a low-rent housing development, some vacation rental property for sale, then moved on to a nicer part of town. He found a side street that lead to a row of high-rise condominiums. Very upscale. Roxy DeLong, Doug’s other woman, lived in one of these.

  Her fingers tingled, a reminder of Collin’s touch. His sympathetic touch, she reminded herself. He was probably feeling sorry for her, wondering how she could have allowed a man to make such a fool of her. A question she’d like the answer to herself.

  They pulled into the complex, and she half hoped the woman wouldn’t be home. Her insides were already torn in shreds. Doug’s mistress would only add salt to her wounds. But putting off the inevitable would only drag out this ordeal. And she was ready to get it over with. To hell with her pride—she didn’t have any left, anyway.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to wait in the car?” Collin turned to her. “I know this can’t be easy for you. I hate to make you go through this.”

  “I may have been a fool, Collin, but I’m not going to let Doug destroy me.” She climbed out of the car, blinking back the tears stinging her eyes. She refused to give in to the hurt—not in front of Collin.

  The elevator seemed to crawl up the floors of the high-rise building. Her stomach spasmed as it lurched to a stop. The doors opened with a grating screech, and the hallway loomed ahead, a condor of endless white walls. When Collin took her hand in his, she was too numb to pull away. She took solace in the physical comfort and told herself she’d think about the ramifications later.

  Finally they stood outside the door of the woman’s apartment, and Sydney fought the emotions bombarding her. She imagined Doug sliding a key into the door, walking in to share a tryst with this woman while she waited at home, the loving and trusting wife. As soon as the door opened, Sydney realized Roxy DeLong was exactly the kind of woman Doug would have liked. Tall and willowy with big breasts, hair a fiery red, showy clothes and perfect makeup.

  “Hello, what can I do for you?” the woman drawled, ignoring Sydney and focusing on Collin.

  Collin introduced them and the woman arched penciled eyebrows at Sydney. “I’m surprised you showed up here, honey. I didn’t think you’d have the backbone.”

  Anger surged through Sydney. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Surprise flashed in Roxy’s green eyes. “Doug always said you were so sweet—that was why he couldn’t resist you. He didn’t mention you had a feisty side, too.” The compliment sounded vile coming from the woman’s painted mouth. Sydney felt Collin put his hand to the back of her waist protectively.

  “May we come in?” Collin asked in a polite tone.

  Roxy shrugged. “I don’t have long, but sure. We may as well get this over with.”

  Roxy DeLong did not offer tea or any other sort of refreshment, although judging from the plush decor of her apartment, if she had, the refreshments would have been served in Waterford crystal. The woman obviously had expensive tastes, and Sydney realized with a sickening clarity that Doug had probably paid her handsomely for her...assets.

  When they were seated on a white leather sofa, Roxy sat facing them in a leopard-skin chair. She crossed her slender legs and angled herself so Collin would have a perfect view of her exposed thighs, including the black garter belt she didn’t try to hide.

  “So what is it you want? Doug’s dead. I don’t see how I can help you.”

  “We...talked with Doug’s first wife, Gina Waters,” Sydney said, not really sure where to start.

  “Oh, her.” Roxy flipped open a gold cigarette case and extracted a cigarette.

  “Yes. She told us you and Doug had been together for quite a while,” Collin explained.

  “What’s it to you? You a cop?” Roxy poised the cigarette seductively.

  Sydney clenched her hands in her lap. “He’s a friend of mine,” she said, interrupting whatever Collin had intended to say. “You see, someone has been threatening me. Since you obviously knew Doug so well, you might be able to give us information that would help find his killer.”

  “Honey, the only thing I can tell you about Doug is how good he was in bed.” Roxy paused, Nicked a gold trimmed lighter with her initials embossed on the side and took a drag of the cigarette. “But then, I guess you know that.”

  Sydney squirmed, gritting her teeth. Collin didn’t
bat an eye at Roxy’s blatant sexual behavior. The man couldn’t be immune to Roxy’s charms, could he? Doug certainly hadn’t been.

  “How long had you and Doug been seeing each other?” Collin asked in a detached voice.

  “About five years.” Roxy flicked ashes into a crystal ashtray. “Long before he married you,” she muttered as if the thought of Doug with Sydney left a rancid taste in her mouth.

  “So you were having an affair while he was married to his first wife, then continued to see him after their divorce,” Collin said.

  Roxy simply shrugged.

  “Then he met Sydney and married her?” Collin asked.

  “Yep.” Roxy blew a ring of smoke in the air. “Rotten SOB. He should have married me. I gave him what he needed.” She punctuated the words by pressing her hand over her breasts. “That’s why he kept coming back even after he married you, Sydney. He was obsessed with you, liked all those sweet pictures you took, said he loved you.” She pressed her breasts again. “But he kept coming back to me, ‘cause you couldn’t satisfy him the way I could.”

  Sydney stood up. “This is a waste of time. Collin. Let’s go.”

  Collin rose and placed his hand at the curve of her back, offering support. “Did you know anything about Doug’s business dealings, Ms. DeLong?”

  “Heavens, no.” Roxy rolled her eyes. “We didn’t discuss business. We were busy doing other things. Fun things.”

  In spite of the air-conditioning, perspiration soaked Sydney’s neck. And Roxy’s strong perfume turned her stomach. “I said let’s go.”

  Collin thanked the woman for her time. Sydney didn’t wait for him. She rushed into the hallway, flinching at the harsh sound of Roxy’s laughter echoing off the apartment walls behind her. Collin followed silently on her heels.

  When they reached the elevator, she wrapped her arms around herself as they rode the elevator and found their way to the parking lot. A blast of afternoon heat hit her in the face, making her whole body flush. Once inside the car, she began to tremble. Collin reached for her. She knew he meant to offer comfort, but she held up her hands, warning him off. A sympathetic touch would only trigger her emotions past the breaking point. “Just take me home, please.”