by Cassie Page
Cody said, “That Arlo? He’s a humungo piece of sleeze.”
Olivia perked up. “What do you mean? I mean, yes he is, but why do you say that?”
“The guys? They run the other way when they see him coming.”
He meant his friends, the other young men from working class families in nearby towns who had graduated high school with Cody but hadn’t found direction either, and were in jobs connected to the wealth in the town. Gardeners, handymen such as Cody, clerks in the luxury stores on Darling Boulevard.
“He gives you the creeps. Always asking if you want to go for a beer so he can drill you about the people you work for. Get some dirt for his blog. Who’s getting a divorce? Who’s sleeping around? Who’s in trouble with the Feds or the IRS? I swear, after I see him, I need to rub hand sanitizer over myself. You can’t let that creep get to you.”
Olivia rubbed her eyes and blew her nose, not feeling a whole lot better. “But that creep has connections and a wide readership ready to believe anything he publishes.”
Cody helped himself to more eggplant, his disgust with Arlo seeming to fuel his appetite.
Olivia pushed her plate away and folded her arms on the table to move in closer to her assistant. “Cody, you must know something about the tech stuff. Can someone put messages on another person’s phone? You know, hack into them some way? I have to figure where those texts came from.”
He wiped his mouth and drained his bottle of water. “Don’t ask me. I just use my phone to make beer dates.”
Later, Olivia announced she was turning in early. “I’m a bushed baby.”
Cody said, “Do you mind if I catch the news before I go downstairs?”
He usually watched his favorite programs on his computer after he set up his air mattress in the showroom each night, but, as an avid Giants, Sharks, Warrior and 49er fan, he liked live sports news. Olivia said he’d root for a tiddlywinks team if they set up a franchise in the Bay Area.
“Have at it,” she said, waving over her shoulder. “See you in the morning.”
Tuesday stayed in the living room with Cody while she waited for Olivia to brush her teeth and turn the bathroom over to her. Cody always took last place in the bathroom lottery. Olivia had seen his face bloom with embarrassment when he came out one evening, towel in hand, thinking she had gone to bed. She was hopping up and down desperate to get in. Despite his frequent teasing of Olivia, he would die rather than inconvenience her.
A few minutes later, Tuesday screamed, “Holy liar, pants on fire. I don’t believe this.”
Olivia came running into the living room with a mouthful of toothpaste. “Wha’?”
Cody pointed to the TV. A scrawl reported that Jocelyn Payne’s husband had accused Olivia of murdering his wife and claimed to have pictures that proved it.
Olivia sat down on the couch, toothbrush still in her mouth. A clip came on of the bereaved husband demanding action. He was older and more haggard than Olivia remembered, with none of the cool arrogance he had shown when she worked on his house.
“I want justice for my wife! If the Darling Valley Police won’t arrest that woman because the Chief Detective is involved with her, I will have the FBI investigate. I won’t stop until that woman is brought to justice.”
Tuesday said, “Is it just me, or did he have flames coming out of his ears?”
The next clip showed Detective Johnson in front of the glass lobby of the police department.
“I want to assure the people of Darling Valley that the homicide division of your police department is doing everything in our power to find out how Mrs. Payne met her death. It is premature to accuse or implicate anyone at this time because we do not yet have all the facts. As soon as we have more information, we will let you know. And last, I can assure you that there is absolutely no conflict of interest in this case or favoritism on the part of our personnel. Thank you.”
He refused reporters’ questions and went back inside. Matt was nowhere to be seen.
Olivia took the toothbrush out of her mouth. “FBI?” she said, stunned. White foam drooled down the side of her chin.
Next, a blond anchor in a sleeveless dress designed to show off her biceps ordered, “Don’t touch that dial. We have an exclusive for you. The photos from Ms. Granville’s phone.”
Tuesday said, “Is there some law that says TV stations have to hire blond anchors?”
The blond just continued anchoring. “You may recall that Mr. Payne’s son is the well-respected Dr. Arthur Payne, a scientist known for his work on antidotes for venomous bites that afflict people in third world countries. Dr. Payne has published papers on his work and has received grants to subsidize his important research.”
Both Tuesday and Cody came over and sat on either side of Olivia. She looked from one to the other, wordless for a moment until she said, “Let me rinse my mout’ out,” and rushed into the bathroom.
She came back wiping her face with a towel and pointed to the commercial flickering where minutes earlier CNN had flashed the image of the doctor.
“I don’t get it. The man is a big brain himself and he has a son whose IQ is off the charts. Yet he marries a woman who could only understand words of one syllable.”
Tuesday sneered, “I saw pictures of the late Mrs. Payne. Trust me, sugar plum, he didn’t marry her for her ability to diagram a sentence.”
The commercial ended and the anchor began to narrate the photos. There were three, each a bit blurred, but they clearly showed a man and woman embracing. Olivia did not have to look twice to recognize Matt with his arms around a woman who resembled Jocelyn Payne enough to back up her husband’s claim that Olivia killed his wife in a jealous rage.
The news segued into the next program. The host of Meet The Perps asked accusingly, “Exactly who is Olivia M. Granville, OMG to her friends? What is her relationship to Detective Richards? What was his relationship to the deceased?”
The woman turned to a camera that pulled in for a close-up. She said slowly, dramatically, her eyes narrowing, “I dedicate my life to staying on this story until I find the answers you deserve.”
Chapter Twelve: Gather ‘Round, Pardner
“Is she talking about me?”
After the TV host’s damning staccato attack, Olivia stared at the flat screen in shock. Then her cell phone rang in the kitchen. Recognizing Matt’s ringtone, she dashed to answer it. She slid onto a stool at the island, rocking a bit because the legs were uneven.
“Oh, Matt. I’m so glad it’s you,” she said, full of relief and seeming to forget they were hardly speaking.
“Did you watch the news?” he asked, sounding as stunned as she was.
“Yes. Tuesday, Cody and I watched it together. I’m in shock.”
“I don’t blame you,” he said. “But Olivia, I was not involved with Jocelyn Payne. I swear to you. I don’t know how Mr. Payne got those photos. They are doctored. You have to believe me.”
His words struck a nerve and Olivia maintained an icy silence for a few moments, as his betrayal of her rose to the surface.
“The way you believed me this afternoon?”
“Olivia, I never said I didn’t believe you. I was just doing my job. You have to understand the position I was in. I had to treat you the way I would any other person of interest that I interview. This is serious business.”
Olivia scoffed. “You’re telling me it’s serious business? Payne is threatening to go to the FBI.”
Matt tried to placate her. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Olivia kept her voice low. Tuesday and Cody weren’t eavesdroppers, but only half a wall separated the living room from the kitchen. The open plan of the loft allowed voices to carry.
“Matt, he has enough money to buy the FBI. He has the best lawyers in the country telling him what to say. You know that. It wasn’t an idle threat. I’ve learned that much since I’ve lived in Darling Valley. When the moneyed men speak, you better listen. You have to make me un
derstand those pictures.”
“Olivia, I can’t explain them.” Matt sounded tired. On instinct, her heart went out to him. Her Matt. But she had to pull herself back. They were in very murky waters as far as their relationship was concerned.
He added, “The department is working 24/7 on this, especially now that I’ve been implicated. When you were down at the station I understood what you were going through. Of course I did, and I do even more tonight. We had no warning that this was coming out. I’ve been taken off the case and will probably lose my job over it if we don’t find out who is behind those pictures.”
Olivia couldn’t completely remove the hardness from her voice. “And texts, I might add.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Now do you believe me, Matt?”
“Olivia, I know you didn’t kill Jocelyn Payne. If they’d found you with a smoking gun in your hand standing over her body confessing to the murder, I still wouldn’t believe it. I can say that now that I’m off the case. I had to remain neutral this afternoon.”
“Well,” she said frostily, “you did a very good job on that score.” She was surprised at the depth of the wound he had inflicted. She couldn’t let it go.
Matt was pleading with her. “Olivia, this has been a terrible day for you, for us. Why don’t you get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning. Oh, just a minute. I’ve got a call coming in. It’s my lawyer.”
“Your lawyer? That was fast.”
He said, “You have representation, don’t you? You should.”
Olivia could hear his phone buzz again. “Matt, before you go, do you know what killed Jocelyn? You said it wasn’t the fall.”
“Wait, let me tell Hugh I’ll call him back.”
In half a minute, Matt was back on the line. “What were we talking about? Oh yeah, cause of death. The husband has pull. They did an autopsy on an emergency basis this evening. Nothing conclusive yet. Might have been a heart attack.”
Olivia almost dropped her phone. “How could she have had a heart attack? She was barely out of her teens.”
“As I said, it’s preliminary. But the coroner said she reeked of alcohol so Xavier’s claim that she drank his champagne seems to hold up.”
Confusion riddled her voice. “But Matt, if she had a heart attack, how could I have killed her? Or anyone else for that matter? What is Payne talking about? Does he know about the cause of death? I couldn’t have given her a coronary. Why is he saying I killed her?”
Matt said, “This is what I know. Fright could have stopped her heart. A number of substances could do it. We need to wait for the full report. Also, if she was brought into Xavier’s against her will and died while restrained in some way, doesn’t matter what she died of, the person who put her upstairs is responsible.”
“And the police and Mr. Payne believe I am that person.”
Matt’s voice became soft and vulnerable. “Listen, it’s late. We don’t have all the information. What’s important is that we support each other, be there for each other. I’m here for you. I always have been and I always will be.”
Olivia couldn’t explain why, but she needed to steel herself against the well of strong feeling his words elicited, the love and care behind them that could break her down. She had to be strong, not walk into another trap, so she remained noncommittal. “Okay. Let’s talk in the morning”
She hung up and returned to the living room.
Cody had switched the TV to an old time movie channel, a grainy black and white western. It was twilight somewhere in the rugged, old west with some cowboys sliding off their horses and mumbling to each other, hitching up their chaps and smacking their ten-gallon hats against their legs to rid them of trail dust. The head of the gang strode toward a campfire and said, “Gather ‘round, boys. We need to get up a posse and go after the Denver gang. We’ll head into the Badlands before dawn and catch them by surprise.”
Cody turned off the volume while Olivia filled them in on Matt’s news, then he offered an opinion. “Matt’s not going to be much help to you.”
Tuesday spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Gather round, boys. We need to get up a posse and go after the Payne gang.”
Olivia grabbed a throw cushion from her couch and hugged it to her chest, sinking into the down pillows behind her. She closed her eyes. “I wish. How can I make this go away?”
The news report had energized Tuesday and she leaned forward on the club chair, eager and excited. “We can figure this out, kidlets. Only a handful of people live in this town. How hard can it be to figure out which one of your neighbors is the perp?”
Olivia and Cody caught each other’s eyes. “There she goes again,” Olivia said, grateful for an excuse to laugh. “About how big LA is and how Darling Valley has the population of the space station.”
“Okay,” Tuesday smirked. “Prove me wrong. How thick is your phone book?”
Cody said, “Phone book? What’s that? We only have the pony express in these parts.”
Tuesday slapped his arm then feigned admiration of his strong biceps before she got serious. “Unless this was the work of an outside agitator, let’s catalog the usual suspects. Number one possible bad boy, of course, is the husband. It’s always the spouse that the police go after first because usually one party gets sick and tired of the butt-scratching, soup-slurping habits of the other and says enough. Temporary insanity makes them forget the divorce court option, so they slip arsenic into their formerly beloved’s smoothie.”
Olivia said, “Not in this case. He was at a conference in Southern California for several days before it happened. He only came home after Matt broke the news to him. Next suspect?”
“And besides,” Cody added, “no way was Mr. Payne tired of his wife.
Tuesday had her iPad out and was making notes. “How so?”
“It just so happens that one of my buddies works at the golf club where Payne is a member. He’s in charge of the locker room. My buddy, not the rich dude.”
Tuesday said, “Duh!”
“So anyways, and I heard this a few weeks ago. My friend? He hears Payne and another guy talking. Also a club member. Payne is bragging about what a great wife he has, how beautiful Jocelyn is, bu-blah, bu-blah, bu-blah.”
Cody unlaced his running shoes while he described the scene, preparing to go down to his snug little air mattress tucked out of the way in Olivia’s forest of armoires and French secrétaires.
“His friend, if that’s what you could call him, is all of a sudden curious and asks some questions. ‘Did she ever live in Seattle?’ The husband says, yeah, she was born there. Why? And the guy says, ‘and you’re married to her? Really married? Not just shacking up?’ He kept asking him and saying, you’re married, really married? Like he didn’t believe him.”
Olivia looked at Tuesday, puzzled. “What happened then?”
Cody continued without skipping a beat. “The husband says ‘yeah we’re really married. What’s it to you?’ Then the guy drops the bombshell.”
Olivia and Tuesday were on the edge of their seats. “What? What? This better be good.”
“The guy says, ‘I used to be married to her.’ Can you believe it?”
As if on cue, Olivia and Tuesday shook their heads like bobble dolls. “So?” one of them said.
“Wait until you hear this. Payne didn’t know that for a year he’d been teeing up with her ex.”
Olivia’s jaw dropped. “And you know that how?”
“Payne went ballistics according to my friend. Called the guy a liar and what have you.”
Tuesday threw up her hands, perplexed. “Cody, I could kiss you if it wouldn’t be incestuous. You know how I love juicy gossip. But if you don’t mind my asking, what does that have to do with the said wife’s demise?”
Cody continued. “Get this.”
Olivia listened with eyes wide as saucers.
“She’d had a short marriage to the first guy, so she didn’t get a boatload of money in the
divorce. But the ex-husband felt sorry for her so he bought her a house, free and clear and gave her one of those black credit cards with like a gajillion dollar credit limit? She was supposed to use it for emergencies just until she got on her feet. She’d get cash out. Not much. A few thou here, a few thou there. But I guess it added up. Plus, the girl liked to shop. Still, he never said anything. He was glad to be rid of her. That’s what he told Payne. I don’t know what his problem with her was, but he was definitely tired of her.”
Cody gave his two friends a big smile, as if he had discovered gold.
Tuesday shrugged, disappointed. “That’s all you’ve got?”
Cody said in an injured tone, “So what more do you want? That’s a motive if I ever heard one.”
Olivia shook her head. “Whose motive? Tuesday’s right. Husband number one could have just canceled the credit card if she was spending too much money. As far as husband number two is concerned, maybe he wouldn’t like it that she hadn’t told him about the previous marriage, but what does her financial arrangement have to do with Payne?”
Cody slapped his head as if he were talking to Neanderthals. “Because the cash cow was supposed to go back to the barn if she remarried. She never told husband number one about husband number two. She sold the house, I guess the guy hadn’t put his name on it, and kept the money. And she was using the card all the time Payne was buying out Xavier’s for her. Stringing the guy along that she was single and needed financial support.”
Olivia blurted out, “WHAT?”
“That’s right. My friend heard the whole conversation while those two guys were getting dressed.”
Tuesday said, “Oh, classic divorce move. Hiding a marriage to keep collecting alimony? It’s a contact sport in LA. Post-marital extortion they call it. I have a client whose husband’s ex-wife was collecting alimony from four different guys. Each of her settlement agreements stipulated that support ended upon remarriage. She conveniently forgot to mention her subsequent nuptials to her exes until my client happened upon a divorce notice in a small town newspaper. A public records thing. The wife thought, wait a minute. My husband is paying her alimony. How could she be getting divorced? The schemer got busted eventually. But Mr. Payne must have been furious. Jocelyn’s married to him and still living off another guy’s money.”