The Ex Who Hid a Deadly Past

by Sally Berneathy

  She took her cell phone from her pocket.

  She would come right out and ask him. Clear the air. Get everything straight between them.

  She sat with her index finger poised to touch the phone, to call Jake.

  She called Teresa.

  “Has Ross said anything about Jake being a womanizer?”

  “When I saw your name pop up on my phone,” Teresa said, “I assumed you were calling to talk about how we can keep you out of prison. I was not prepared to discuss Jake’s sex life.”

  “Dawson told me Jake has lots of girlfriends and he’s even been in trouble with Internal Affairs for inappropriate behavior toward the women at the station.”

  Teresa laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.”

  “Dawson told you that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did he tell you something like that? Even if it’s true...and I don’t think it is...why would he tell you?”

  “He’s worried Jake will hurt me. Break my heart. Has Ross talked about Jake or not?”

  “No. I mean, sure, he’s talked about him. They’ve been friends a long time. But we’ve never discussed his love life. Jake doesn’t strike me as the womanizing type. Where did Dawson get his information?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say.”

  “So you don’t know his source, you haven’t checked the data, but you believe him? Have you ever heard the term, fake news?”

  “I didn’t say I believe him.”

  “You wouldn’t have asked me what Ross said if you weren’t worried it was true.”

  “It’s not that I think it’s true. I’m just not sure it’s false. That murder in my parking lot is making things a little weird between Jake and me. I mean, what with him being a cop and me being a suspect. That sort of thing causes tension in a relationship.”

  “Why don’t we meet at Chabela’s and talk about this over a margarita or two?”

  Amanda considered it for a fleeting moment. “To forget all my problems, I’d have to drink so many margaritas, I’d wake up tomorrow with a hangover and all the same problems. I need to do something pro-active.”

  “What? Go down to the station and ask all the women if Jake’s hit on them?”

  “That’s an idea, but I think tonight I’ll find a wig and go back to Bikes and Brews to question the people there. See if I can find out who killed Lenny.” When Charley had suggested the idea, it had sounded lame. Now it sounded much more reasonable. Certainly a good alternative to freaking out about what Jake might or might not be doing with other women.

  “What? You’re going to go back to Bikes and Brews? You said you’d never been there. And why do you need a wig to go there?”

  “I hadn’t been there until last night.”

  “I went with her,” Charley said.

  “Yes, he went with me. I—”

  “We,” he corrected.

  “We went to see what we could find out about Bert.”

  “Who’s Bert?”

  She told Teresa about the would-be drug trader who knew her name. “And then Jake told me Ross found my hair’s on Lenny’s body.”

  “I thought you hadn’t seen Lenny for several weeks. How did your hairs get on his body?”

  “They blew there. I shed a lot.” Amanda was being defensive. Teresa was asking normal questions. Who wouldn’t want to know how her friend’s hairs got on a murdered man’s body?

  “So what did you find out when you went to the bar?”

  “People recognized me.”

  “Oh?”

  “I mean, they thought they recognized me. It wasn’t me.”

  “It was somebody who looks like you?” Teresa asked.

  “Yes. The red hair, you know. It’s the first thing people notice.”

  “Did you find out the name of the woman who looks like you?”

  “That’s the thing...she said she was me. Amanda with a motorcycle repair shop. Obviously it was some woman pretending to be me.”

  “Oh?”

  “I told you that sounds crazy,” Charley said.

  “It may sound crazy, but it’s the only possible explanation,” Amanda said.

  “You’re going back tonight?” Teresa asked. “Wearing a wig? Why don’t you go as you and see what they can tell you about the other woman? The other you. This is getting confusing.”

  “Jake came in last night before I could learn anything. I left with him. Nobody will talk to me after I walked out of there with a cop. So I’m going to wear a disguise, get people to talk to me, and find out about that woman.”

  “The one pretending to be you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll come over and bring disguises.”

  Amanda relaxed. Teresa believed her. She was going to help. “That would be great.”

  “I’ve got wigs from costume parties. How about a long, straight black one? That will change your look completely, and you and I can pretend to be sisters. We’ll lure the men to our table and find out what they know about your body double. I’ll be there in an hour.”

  Amanda slid her phone into her pocket. Teresa hadn’t given her any more information, hadn’t solved any of her problems, but she felt better. This friend thing was a good deal.

  Charley stood in front of her. “Does she have to come with us? It was my idea.”

  This ghost-of-my-ex thing was not a good deal.

  “Yes, she has to come with us. She has the wigs.” And she’s beautiful and knows how to attract men and she’s real and alive and my friend. Charley did not qualify on any of those counts.

  ***

  The Hooker Sisters rode the short distance to Bikes and Brews in Teresa’s car. Arriving in the sporty little car would, Teresa insisted, make for a better entrance than walking over.

  Amanda opened the car door and slid into the foggy evening. Her black leather miniskirt matched Teresa’s but rode higher on Amanda’s taller frame, exposing more leg. She twisted one shoulder in an effort to relieve the pinch of the red sequined bustier. At least she got to wear her own cowboy boots. The four-inch heels Teresa brought were too small for Amanda. First time she’d appreciated having big feet.

  Teresa joined her, and the three of them strode into the dimly lit interior of Bikes and Brews. Amanda tried to match Teresa’s seductive slink.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Charley asked. “You’re walking like you’ve got a—”

  Teresa jabbed an elbow through his chest. “Shut up,” she whispered. She cocked one hip and surveyed the sparsely populated room then tilted her chin toward an empty table near the bar. “We’ll let them come to us.”

  Teresa sauntered across the room. Amanda gave up trying to match Teresa’s gait and walked as naturally as possible under the circumstances.

  “Don’t sit down,” Charley advised. “This isn’t the kind of place where the waitress comes over and takes your order. You have to go to the bar to get your drinks.”

  “Even better.” Teresa glided up to the bar.

  Amanda had to give her credit. Most of the men in the place were watching her.

  The bartender was the same one Amanda had met yesterday. She pulled a piece of dark hair forward, partially hiding her face, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her.

  “What can I get for you lovely ladies?”

  “Two bottles of Lone Star,” Teresa said.

  The man fetched two bottles and set them on the bar. “Haven’t seen you two in here before.”

  Amanda relaxed as much as her outfit would allow. Her disguise was working.

  “First timers.” Teresa gave him her hundred-watt smile then laid a ten dollar bill on the counter.

  He pushed it back to her and grinned. “First one’s on the house.”

  “Thank you...?” She tilted her head to one side.

  “Rooster,” he said.

  Finally Amanda had a name for the man.

  Well, sort of a name. Surely his mother had not put that name on his birth
certificate.

  “Thank you, Rooster,” Teresa said.

  They took their bottles to a nearby table. Teresa sank gracefully into one of the chairs. Amanda sank clumsily into the chair opposite.

  Charley mimicked sitting between them. “No beer for me?”

  Amanda shoved hers across the table to him. “Have mine.”

  Charley dipped his head halfway through the bottle, but Teresa slid it back to Amanda.

  “Hey!” Charley protested.

  “Pretend to drink it,” Teresa whispered.

  Amanda regarded the bottle. “I don’t like beer. I especially don’t like beer that Charley’s had his head in.”

  “Do it.” Teresa drank from her bottle.

  Amanda sighed. Teresa had more expertise in this field than she did. Tonight she would take directions from Teresa. And Charley. She lifted her bottle but kept her lips firmly closed.

  “Smile,” Teresa ordered.

  She set the bottle on the table and forced one side of her lips up, then the other. It was the best she could do.

  “Look around the room. Pick out some guy you want to talk to.”

  Amanda looked. Most of the people in the room were men with beards, long hair and leather jackets. It was, after all, a biker bar. “How do I choose? They all look the same.”

  “How about that guy over there?” Teresa inclined her head toward a table across the room. “He’s looking at us.” She smiled and drew a finger through her hair. “Smile invitingly at him, Amanda.”

  Amanda turned in the direction of Teresa’s gaze. A couple of men at a table were talking. A lone man at another table stared at his beer. Nobody seemed to be looking at them. Nevertheless, she focused on producing a smile.

  “Geez, Amanda,” Charley said. “That doesn’t look like a come-on smile. That looks more like the wolf pretending to be grandma.”

  “Leave her alone, Charley,” Teresa said. “She’s doing fine. He’s coming our way.”

  None of the men had left their table. No one was coming their way.

  Teresa leaned back in her chair and batted her eyelashes. “Care to join us?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Amanda asked. Surely Teresa wasn’t drunk on one sip of beer. Had Rooster spiked their drinks? Good thing she hadn’t drunk any of hers.

  “He looks familiar,” Charley said. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  Charley could see the man too? Well, he had stuck his head in her beer.

  Teresa’s eyes widened and her smile faltered as she continued to stare at the empty space beside their table. She turned slowly toward Amanda. “It’s Lenny.”

  Amanda drew in a sharp breath. “Lenny? As in, dead man Lenny?”

  “I’m sorry,” Teresa said. “In the dim light, I didn’t realize at first he was a spirit.”

  Amanda could understand why Ross found Teresa’s gift unnerving.

  But this could be a good thing. “Ask him who killed him.”

  “He already told me.”

  Amanda waited. “You want to share that information?” she finally asked.

  Teresa squirmed and clutched her beer in both hands. “He...” She cleared her throat and leaned across the table to whisper. “He said you killed him.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ice shot through Amanda’s veins. “What? He said...no! He didn’t say that. You’re making that up. That’s not funny.”

  Teresa bit her lip. “He’s very upset.”

  “But...I didn’t.”

  “Are you sure?” Charley asked. “You know how sometimes you go in the other room and forget why you went in there? Maybe you forgot about killing this guy.”

  Amanda clenched her fist. “I did not kill somebody and forget it! He’s lying. He’s mad at me because I threatened him with a hammer.”

  “Yes,” Teresa said softly, “he is mad about that, but he’s mostly mad because you killed him.”

  “I can’t lie,” Charley said, “so he can’t either. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it, Amanda. You have a terrible temper. I understand, but I don’t think that damned detective will. We won’t tell him, will we, Teresa?”

  “I didn’t kill anybody,” Amanda said through gritted teeth. “Just because you can’t lie doesn’t mean he can’t. Maybe he didn’t tell as many lies during his life as you did so he doesn’t have that ban.”

  “I don’t think he’s lying,” Teresa said.

  The ice spread through Amanda’s chest, down her arms, to her fingertips. “Really? You too? I expected this from him, but you’re supposed to be my friend.”

  Teresa rose abruptly. “We need to leave.”

  Amanda shot to her feet. “We certainly do. This is not fun.”

  She stalked out of the bar, into the darkness, across the parking lot. The night was cold and dark and she wasn’t wearing many clothes, but she was not going to ride home in the same vehicle as her ex-husband and her ex-friend when they believed her capable of murder.

  Teresa caught up to her. “Damn it, slow down! Your legs are longer than mine, and I’m running in four-inch heels!”

  Amanda stopped. “I can’t believe you think I killed him!” She hoped her words sounded angry, not hurt. She was both.

  “Let’s get in my car and drive to your apartment where we can talk. I don’t think he’ll follow us there.”

  “He? Lenny? Follow us?”

  “Yeah. He said you killed him, but he doesn’t know you’re you. He didn’t recognize you in your disguise, but he was about to figure it out. That’s why I said we needed to leave. I don’t think he could hurt you, but it was time to go anyway. People were starting to stare.”

  “Hurt me? I thought ghosts couldn’t hurt people.”

  “I’ve never known it to happen, but Charley has done some things that make me wonder.”

  “Thanks, Teresa,” Charley said. “I always do my best.”

  Teresa glanced at him but made no attempt to correct his assumption that her comment was a compliment. “Let’s go back to your apartment where it’s warm and we can talk.”

  Amanda shivered. “Okay. But the first person or ghost who accuses me of murder has to leave.”

  They drove the short distance home.

  When they were inside her apartment with the door firmly locked behind them, Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. The idea that Lenny’s ghost could be following her was unsettling. The idea that a locked door could keep him out was ridiculous but somehow comforting.

  “I’m going to let you pour the wine while I get out of this costume.” Amanda yanked off the wig and headed toward the bedroom.

  “She’s got a bottle of decent red,” Charley said. “It’s in the back of the pantry, behind the chips.”

  “I think some hot tea would be better right now. We need to keep our wits sharp.”

  Amanda gulped back that sigh of relief. Teresa was refusing wine, opting for tea and keeping their wits sharp. This did not sound good.

  She changed into a pair of warm sweats. The comfortable clothing made her feel less vulnerable.

  When she returned to the living room, Teresa was in the kitchen taking three cups of steaming water from the microwave.

  Amanda retrieved a box of spiced tea bags from the pantry. “Three?” she asked. “Really? After the way he acted this evening, you’re going to serve him tea?”

  “We may need him.” Teresa plopped the bags in the steaming water then picked up two of the cups. “Let’s sit down.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t have wine?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Amanda picked up the third cup and followed Teresa to the living room.

  She perched tentatively on the sofa beside Teresa, suddenly feeling even more uncomfortable in her own home wearing warm sweats than she had felt in the bar wearing the ridiculous clothing and wig.

  Teresa set a cup of tea on the far side of the coffee table, and Charley drifted over, inhaling the fragrant steam as if he could actually smell it. “Th
anks, Teresa.”

  Teresa folded her hands and turned to Amanda. “The thing is,” she said, “I don’t think any of them can lie. It’s not like there’s a law against it or something. It’s just that, on the other side, everything is balanced, honest, above-board. Deception isn’t possible. Not for Charley, not for anyone.”

  Amanda considered Teresa’s words. Teresa was supposed to be her friend. A friend would not be saying what she seemed to be saying. She dipped her tea bag a few times, realized she hadn’t brought a saucer for it, and set it in Charley’s cup.

  “Hey!” Charley protested.

  “What difference does it make if your tea gets bitter? You can’t drink it anyway.”

  “That’s mean, Amanda!”

  At the moment, Amanda felt mean, wanted to take out her anger, hurt and fear on somebody. “And calling me a murderer is a nice thing to do? That’s what you’re doing, both of you. Charley said it outright, but you, Teresa, someone who’s supposed to be my friend, are saying the same thing, just in a more polite way. If Lenny can’t lie, then he’s telling the truth when he says I killed him. That makes me a murderer.”

  “That’s not exactly what I’m saying,” Teresa said.

  “Oh? Then what, exactly, are you saying?”

  Teresa lifted her cup of tea, stared at it, then set it back on the table. “I don’t know. A spirit has never lied to me or misled me. He must be telling the truth.”

  “He’s not telling the truth!” Amanda protested.

  “That’s what I mean,” Teresa said. “Something strange is going on.”

  “If I had it in me to kill someone, I’d have killed Charley.”

  “Hey!” Charley protested.

  “That’s a good point,” Teresa agreed. “You had a lot more reason to kill him than you had to kill Lenny.”

  “I had no reason to kill that jerk. Now that he’s dead, I’ll definitely never get the money he owes me.” Amanda’s hand shook slightly as she lifted her cup to sip her tea. She winced. Too hot.

  “You did threaten to beat him over the head with a hammer.”

  “It was just a threat. I wouldn’t really have done it.”

  “Yeah,” Charley said, “you used to threaten to do all kinds of horrible things to me. Like the time you had that drill in your hand and you said you were going to drill a hole in my forehead, put in a peg, and hang a potted plant on it.”