That was a good question. “I think we sit at one of the tables and they bring the wine samples to us,” I explained. “Let’s take that table over there.” I led the way, getting completely settled before speaking again. “By the way, if someone asks, we need to explain that Carly was feeling left out and she’s not drinking. People are liable to call the cops on us if they think we’ve got a drunken pregnant woman with us.”
“You worry too much.” Carly patted the top of my hand. “No one will even notice. I’m barely showing.”
Carly insisted on saying that – I think it made her feel better for some reason – but her stomach definitely poked out now and her boobs had doubled in size. She swore up and down that she could still fit into her pre-pregnancy pants, but I know for a fact she didn’t wear anything with an elastic waistband before getting knocked up. I wisely kept that to myself. Of course, I didn’t have to, because Marvin never opened his mouth without having the overwhelming urge to fill it with his foot.
“You look as if you swallowed a volleyball,” Marvin supplied. “You’re definitely showing.”
“I am not!” Carly was affronted. “You take that back.”
“No.”
“Avery.” Carly shifted her eyes to me, promises of mayhem and future unwanted babysitting tasks flitting through her eyes. “You make him take it back or I’ll do something you really don’t want me to do.”
“If you give birth in here I’m going to walk away and pretend I don’t know you,” I warned.
“Not that,” Carly hissed. “I will, however, cry and say that you pulled my hair. People don’t like it when you’re mean to pregnant women. That’s the only good thing about this entire situation.”
I took a moment to study her, pursing my lips. She meant business. I could tell. I had no choice but to put my foot down with Marvin. Things would get ugly if I didn’t. “Apologize,” I ordered, catching him off guard.
“I most certainly will not,” Marvin shot back. “If she thinks she’s barely showing then she’s got gestational blindness or something. Wait … is that a thing?”
“My foot going up your behind is going to be a thing if you don’t apologize,” I hissed, leaning forward. “I mean it.”
“Fine!” Marvin looked furious. “This is why you don’t bring a pregnant woman to a wine tasting. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Lexie. You were thinking the same thing.” Marvin pasted a bright smile on his face as he locked gazes with Carly. “I’m sorry.”
Carly’s expression instantly softened. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry that you’re apparently going blind,” Marvin added.
“Okay, that will be enough of that.” I grabbed Marvin’s arm and jerked him away from the table. “I think Marvin and I are going to take a quick turn around the room. You guys stay here and save our spots. If you hear anyone mention Cara’s name, make note of who said what. I need to talk to these people.”
Carly’s dark glare was back as she folded her arms and shot laser beams of hate in Marvin’s direction. “Why are you taking him with you?”
“Because I’m afraid you might go into labor while we’re here and I don’t want to be the one to handle it,” I said, opting for honesty. “I can’t leave Marvin with you, which means I have no choice but to leave Lexie. Trust me. He’s not my first choice when it comes to a wingman in this place.”
“Hey!” Marvin was insulted. “You brought me because I’m a wine expert.”
“I brought you because apparently I have really weird taste in friends and I didn’t have many options,” I corrected. “Look around. There are hardly any men here. There’s probably a reason for that.”
“And what reason is that?”
“Women come here to complain about men while drinking,” I replied. “They call it wine tasting so it makes it easier to swallow, but it’s a place where women can come, still look responsible, and get drunk. Then they can bitch about men and all is right with the world.”
“Huh.” Marvin narrowed his eyes as he glanced around the room. “You’re right. I bet these women are especially vulnerable thanks to the wine. Coming here was a great idea.”
Marvin’s eyes gleamed, his argument with Carly apparently forgotten.
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and cut my way through the room, keeping my ears open for conversational tidbits that piqued my interest. I didn’t have to wait long before a trio of women in the far corner – all who looked to be about Cara’s age – caught my attention.
“There are just three of us tonight,” a brunette explained to the sommelier. “Our fourth is … um … not coming. It will just be three of us from here on out.”
“That’s okay. I’ll bring your first round in a few minutes.”
I faked interest in the hand-painted wine glasses on the back shelves and listened to the women talk. I had a feeling they were the ones I was looking for, if only due to the process of elimination. Thankfully for me, Marvin discovered an interest in a woman two tables over and he chatted her up – and didn’t draw attention in my direction – while I listened.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” the blonde said. “I mean … she was such a pretty woman. It’s a waste for her to die so young.”
Hmm. That didn’t exactly sound like grief.
“Cara was pretty.” The third woman, a lithe figure with amber highlights, bobbed her head. “It’s too bad all of that beauty went to waste.”
Well, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but these women seemed somehow fitting given what I’d learned about Cara’s world. I made up my mind on the spot, turning and sliding closer to the table. I waited until the blonde locked gazes with me before speaking.
“Are you talking about Cara Carpenter?”
The blonde nodded, her green eyes going wide. “Did you know her? We’re her closest friends, and we’re just in shock.”
“We’re mourning,” the brunette added. “I would’ve worn black, but it’s not my best color.”
“Black looks good on everyone,” the third woman argued. “You just wanted to wear your new blue Ann Taylor shirt. Admit it.”
“Fine. I admit it.” The brunette said. “Blue can be for mourning, too.”
“Oh, totally.”
The blonde forced a smile for my benefit. “I’m Chloe Lincoln. This is Elizabeth Murray.” She gestured toward the brunette. “And this is Juliet Monroe.” She pointed toward the amber-haired woman. “We were Cara’s closest friends.”
“Do you think we could get free drinks tonight if we told the sommelier that?” Elizabeth asked hopefully.
“I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot.” Juliet looked pleased at the suggestion. “We should totally get something free out of this. I mean … our best friend died.”
I had to work overtime to keep from saying something hateful. These women were worse than Cara … which was saying something. It was no wonder the woman ended up the way she did if these were the sorts of people she surrounded herself with.
“Who are you?” Chloe asked, drawing me back into the now.
Here’s where things got tricky. I could try to lie to see if they’d tell me what I wanted to know. I could tell the truth and risk them hating me on principle because Cara hated me. Given what I already knew about these women, I couldn’t help but believe their hate would be only surface thin.
“My name is Avery Shaw.” I made my decision on the spot. “I’m a reporter with The Monitor. I knew Cara through the sheriff.”
The women shifted in their chairs, excitement bubbling up.
“Really?” Juliet asked, intrigued. “You’re the woman who ruined Cara’s life, huh? I’ve only ever seen you on television. You’re much thinner in person.”
“Yeah, you don’t have thick thighs at all,” Elizabeth added.
“Thank you!” Now wasn’t the time to bask in the compliment, but I couldn’t help myself. “I take it Cara talked about me a time or two.”
Chloe giggled. “Oh, she talked abou
t you all of the time. She hated you with a fiery passion.”
“She really did,” Juliet agreed. “She hated you so much she had two blackmail folders on you. She was determined to take you down.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I said. “I … wait. She had two blackmail folders on me? What does that even mean?”
“Oh, I can see you’re still operating in the dark.” Elizabeth looked amused as she patted the open seat between her and Juliet. “Sit down. We’ve got a lot to fill you in about.”
22 Twenty-Two
“What’s a blackmail folder?”
I was almost certain I already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it anyway.
“Cara had this thing about putting together files on people,” Juliet explained. She didn’t look as if she felt guilty in the least about tattling on her dead friend. “Whenever she met someone she thought was in a position of power, she’d start collecting stuff and put it in a file.”
“But … why?”
“So she could blackmail them.”
Juliet’s answer seemed so simple, yet it bothered me all the same. “Did she actually blackmail people?”
Juliet shrugged, noncommittal. “She said it worked in the past and that’s how she always got her way.”
“She liked getting her way,” Elizabeth said.
I understood the impulse to always win, but I much preferred going at someone head on rather than building up blackmail information. Still, that explained the folder she had on me. Of course, according to these women, I saw only the one file. She had more than one … which was truly terrifying.
“Okay, I think you guys should start from the beginning.” I did my best to remain calm and friendly, even though I wanted to slam all three of their heads into the table and scream at them. “How do you know she blackmailed people?”
Chloe smirked. “She told us. She was proud of it.”
“Who did she blackmail? Did she tell you that?”
“She said it started when she was in college,” Juliet supplied. “One of her professors refused to give her a passing grade, so Cara followed him around and got photographs of him meeting with a woman who wasn’t his wife. The photos were pretty damning, so she showed them to the professor and he passed her.”
“Huh.” Cara was much sicker and more diabolical than I ever gave her credit for. “So I’m guessing she went after Sheriff Farrell because he was in a position of power.”
Elizabeth nodded. “She did. She thought she’d be able to date him, get enough info to make him stay with her, and then get a proposal out of it. She wanted to marry him more than anything.”
“But why?” I remained confused. “Did she even like Jake?”
Chloe gave me a pitying look that set my teeth on edge. “I think she liked him fine, but it wasn’t about that. I mean … what does like have to do with it?”
“Shouldn’t you like the person you’re going to marry?”
“I guess in theory that’s true,” Chloe hedged. “It’s more important to be comfortable, though, and as sheriff, Jake Farrell could give Cara the life she always wanted. She grew up poor. Did you know that?”
“Not really,” I admitted, discomfort rolling through me. In truth, I’d dropped the ball when it came to tracking Cara’s parents. I couldn’t find anyone local who matched the names I got from the Medical Examiner’s Office and completely forgot about them after the fact because I grew distracted. That was stupid and shortsighted, but I had other things on my mind. “I don’t know much about her past.”
“Don’t blame yourself for that,” Juliet said, waving her hand. “She didn’t want anyone to know the truth about her past. In fact, she went out of her way to lie.”
“She told people she grew up in Charlevoix, which is a really ritzy area, but she actually grew up forty minutes away in a really rundown area,” Elizabeth explained. “Her parents were poor and lived in one of those modular home things. You know, not really a trailer, but just this side of it. She was embarrassed by that. She let it slip when she was drinking one night, although she denied it later.”
“So she grew up poor and wanted to be comfortable,” I mused, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m going to guess that she thought clothes, cars and homes were symbols of status and those were the things she focused on most.”
“Essentially,” Chloe confirmed. “She wanted to marry a good provider. And she wanted to be invited to important parties. That’s all she ever talked about. That’s why she became a party planner. She thought it was the perfect job to get introductions to the people she wanted to meet.”
In an odd way, that made sense. “So she decided to go after Jake,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Did she actually admit to you that she was looking for things to blackmail him with?”
“Oh, yeah! She didn’t keep that a secret at all,” Elizabeth replied. “She was having a real hard time of it, though. It seems that our sheriff is squeaky clean. She didn’t like that.”
“She hated that.” Chloe offered up an amused giggle that was so grating I honestly wanted to punch her. “That’s why she focused on you.”
“Yeah, apparently you had a lot of stuff worth blackmailing over,” Juliet added. “She was so excited about all of the stuff she was getting on you. She started smiling again the past two weeks or so. Before that, she was really depressed.”
“Because Jake dumped her?”
“She never put it that way,” Chloe answered. “She claimed they were merely on a break and that they weren’t really broken up. We were smart enough to know that wasn’t true, but we didn’t want to get in a fight with her. She could get really mean if she wanted to, so we kind of pretended we didn’t know the truth.”
“It was always better to feed her ego,” Juliet said. “She had a massive ego and needed to believe she was always on top. Of course, she also painted herself as a martyr whenever she could. She said that you were trying to take her down, for example. She said you were the villain and she was the victim.”
“Huh.” Now we were getting somewhere. “Did she blame me for Jake breaking up with her?”
“She was convinced you had control over the sheriff,” Elizabeth replied. “She thought you could make him do whatever you wanted. Because she couldn’t find any dirt on him, she decided to get dirt on you. She thought if she confronted you with what she had – apparently you’ve been a very bad girl quite a few times – that you would force the sheriff to change his mind and take her back.”
That honestly showed how poorly Cara knew me. I can’t be blackmailed because I own my crap … even if it’s embarrassing crap. “And you said she had two files on me?” That was more irritating than everything else. Apparently I’d left a file behind when I pilfered the first. That file was probably in Inspector Fraser’s sweaty clutches right now. I couldn’t help but wonder what she had in there. It was bound to be sensitive and potentially embarrassing.
“Yeah, she hired some private investigator to help her. They got a bunch of stuff,” Chloe supplied. “Most of it was weird. Like that time the guy in lederhosen shot at you. Cara thought that was a big deal and you’d be embarrassed. I’ve read enough stuff about you to think you probably wouldn’t have cared if she tried to blackmail you over that.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” I pointed out. “That guy was lit out of his mind. He was the one with the gun.”
“I get that, but Cara didn’t,” Juliet said. “All of the things in your file were the types of things Cara would be embarrassed about. Most other people might be a little embarrassed, but they wouldn’t melt down or anything.”
“She thought for sure she’d be able to uncover an affair with a professor … or a boss … or even a politician somewhere in your stuff,” Elizabeth said. “She didn’t, and she was starting to get frustrated. She said she was going to start watching your house until she got something really good.”
That explained her presence the day of the barbecue. “What about other people?
Did she blackmail anyone else? I mean … she was murdered. She had to tick someone off enough to kill her. If she was making a habit of blackmailing people it seems they might be the ones to look at first.”
“The thing is, she never told us who she was blackmailing because she said we had big mouths,” Chloe said. “She liked boasting that she was blackmailing people and stuff. She even said she was blackmailing a former county commissioner and she had enough dirt on him to keep him under her thumb for years. But she never mentioned a name.”
“It seems to me if she had all these files on people that the state police would’ve confiscated them,” I noted.
“They might not have been able to find them,” Juliet said. “She didn’t keep them in her normal filing cabinet. She was too paranoid for that.”
Oh, well, now this conversational turn was a good one. “Where did she hide them?”
“She said she had a cubby hole thing under one of the wooden floor boards in her office,” Chloe replied. “She kept the really good stuff there.”
Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. “And she had really good stuff on multiple people?”
“She made it sound as if she had stuff on half the county.”
And I knew exactly where I was heading next.
“NOW THIS is more like it.”
I thought I’d be able to drop Carly at home before swinging by Cara’s house, but she insisted she was part of the group and if we were going to illegally enter a house she didn’t want to miss it. Now I was stuck with a motley crew who didn’t exactly blend in when it came to a job like this.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I was perplexed. “What if we get caught? You’ll be in the newspaper.”
“We won’t get caught.” Carly was blasé as she stared at the dark house. “I expected her to live in a better place. I’m a bit disappointed.”
“Wait until you see the inside,” I muttered. We sat in my car, which was parked about a block from the house. We had a clear view. I wanted to watch to make sure we were clear before getting out of the car. “It’s all boring colors and decorations straight out of a magazine.”
[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater Page 20