A Deadly Business (17 page)
There was a way to mumble his name so it was a single blur. He did that now, since he wasn’t exactly here in an official capacity. “I’m Charliecarlson.” Then he turned to the gardener. “It’s okay. You can go back to your leaf blowing. Everything’s fine.”
“I’m really sorry, dude,” Jared offered, looking miserable. “Are you a real cop?”
Charlie started to nod, then stopped because he didn’t like the way it made him feel.
Jared shook his hand, winced, and blew on his knuckles. “I’ve never done anything like that before. It’s just that I thought you were the guy my girlfriend left me for.”
“Is her name Betty? Betty Eastman?”
“I called her Bets, but yeah, that’s her.” His eyes got wide. “Why? Is she in trouble?”
“Can you tell me where she is?” Charlie persisted.
Jared made a noise that was not quite a laugh. “I wish I knew. Awhile back she left me for some guy named Scott.”
“We’re looking for her because she may have witnessed an accident.”
“The last day I saw her was back in April. April fourteenth.”
Charlie blinked. That was the day Scott had died. “Would you mind if we went inside? I kind of feel like I need to sit down.” He also wanted to see the interior of the apartment for himself, look for any clues that Jared was lying.
“Oh, shoot, of course. I’m sorry, man.”
The small apartment was decorated in flesh tones—pinks and beiges and ivories. Everything was jammed together. They walked in through the kitchen, where gold-speckled linoleum peeled up at the corners. What passed for a dining room was a space about five feet across, just big enough for a tiny round table and two armless chairs. In the corner, a fake fern provided the only spot of color. The whole thing was fairly tidy. Messy, it would have been claustrophobic.
Jared offered him some water, which Charlie declined. They sat at opposite ends of a small cream-colored couch.
“How did you and Betty meet?” Charlie corrected himself. “Bets.”
“We had an anthropology class together. I told her I liked her laugh. Of course, I liked a lot more than that. But I figured ‘laugh’ was the best thing to say.” Jared smiled at the memory. He seemed as pretty as a Ken doll, but just as empty-headed. “Have you ever met her?”
“I’ve seen her picture.”
“It’s not the same. Sometimes she would talk to me and I wouldn’t be able to hear her.” Jared raised his knuckles to his mouth and absently kissed them. “I would just watch her mouth move and get lost.”
That certainly sounded like the basis of a solid relationship. “Why did you think she was with this guy you mentioned? This Scott?”
“He’s an accountant. She got a part-time job working for him. An internship. She said she was getting hands-on experience. Hands-on.” He snorted. “Now I know what that meant. And then she started sneaking around, being mad at me, pushing me away if I even tried to hug her.” His mouth twisted.
“Did she know that Scott was married?”
“She wouldn’t care about that.” He shrugged. “She’s very single-minded. Her full name is Elizabeth, but when she moved in with me she started calling herself Bets. She would say that with her, all bets were off. She said if you saw what you wanted, you should just go for it.” His ears reddened. “That’s how we ended up together. I sort of had a girlfriend, but Bets said she knew she wanted me. At the time she was dating her manager at Taco Time and he was married. When I met Bets, I kind of let her think I had more money than I did. After she moved in with me, she never paid for anything. She never even asked if she could. She was very good at getting people to buy her things.”
Mia had told Charlie that Scott had left her in debt. How much of that money had gone to Betty, gone on her back or in her mouth or, for all Charlie knew, up her nose?
Jared encircled one wrist with the thumb and middle finger of the other hand. “One day she came home wearing this diamond bracelet.”
“A diamond bracelet?” In his mind’s eye, Charlie saw the diamond ring go skittering across the floor of Mia’s basement.
“She got mad when I asked about it, where it had come from. Tried to tell me it was an old family heirloom.” Jared snorted. “Which was such a crock. I know she grew up with nothing and nobody. Just bouncing around from one foster family to another.”
Unexpectedly, Charlie felt a flash of sympathy.
“She started being gone a lot, and when she came home her mouth was swollen, like from kissing. And I’d see her talking on her phone and she would be all giggly and flirty, and then when she saw me she would hang up.”
“Did she tell you she was leaving you?”
“No. She just didn’t come home that night. And the next day she sent me an e-mail. She said she wasn’t coming back, that I should just forget about her, that she would only cause me unhappiness.” He snorted. “Like leaving me wasn’t going to hurt.”
“Have you talked to her since then?”
“No.”
“Communicated with her in any way?”
Jared shook his head.
“Let me ask you something,” Charlie said slowly. “And think about it before you answer. Are you 100 percent certain it was Bets who sent that e-mail?”
“Who else would know my e-mail address?”
“Just think about it.”
Jared was only able to keep still for a few seconds. Then the words tumbled out of him. “It sounded like her. She was always kind
of dramatic. She should have majored in acting instead of accounting. But she said she liked accounting because it was about money, and she’d never had any.”
“Did you keep the e-mail?”
“No. I deleted it.”
That meant Charlie couldn’t look at the IP address, at least not without a warrant. And since this wasn’t an official case, he wasn’t going to get one.
“Did you e-mail her back?”
“I did a couple of days later, but it bounced back, saying it was an unknown user. She must have closed the account.”
“So she just packed up and moved out and left you nothing but an e-mail?”
“No. She left her things here.”
A chill went down Charlie’s spine. It was beginning to sound as if someone just wanted Jared to think Betty had left.
“In the e-mail she said I could just sell her stuff at a garage sale or give it to Goodwill—that she didn’t need it any longer.”
“And did you?”
“Not yet. I put it all in a box in the closet.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure.” He got up and came back a few seconds later with an old banana box.
Charlie sorted through it quickly. Nothing but clothes, a few textbooks, makeup, a dozen photos of herself, both with and without Jared. Charlie lifted up a few pieces of clothing. They all seemed absurdly small. Although maybe on Betty they had been just right.
Jared held a blouse to his nose and sniffed deeply. “They still smell like her.”
Had Betty run because she was worried she would be next?
Or had she run because she was the one who did it?
Or had she been unable to run?
M
ia inched the car forward, gaining a whopping six feet before the car ahead of her again put on the brakes. The University of Washington was only five miles from the King County Courthouse, but today was one of those days when it might be faster to walk. From the seat beside her, she grabbed a handful of Lay’s barbecue chips and stuffed them into her mouth. She hadn’t had time for lunch today, but before climbing into her car she’d ducked into the convenience store that was kitty-corner to the courthouse. She’d bypassed the cheese sticks, the glossy apples, and the sole sad, bruised banana and gone straight to the junk food aisle.
In twenty minutes she would be teaching the ten students in her law school session the finer points of cross-examination, expanding on what she and Eli had modeled on Monday. She reminded herself not to get too close to anyone in case her barbecue breath overwhelmed them.
In the cross, she would tell them that each question needed to be brief and limited to a single topic. The more complicated a question was or the more loaded with clauses, the more easily the witness could quibble or deny.
If only she could reduce Scott’s death into a simple yes or no, up
or down, black or white. She stuffed another handful of chips into her mouth.
Her phone rang. “Mia Quinn.” Pressing the Bluetooth into her ear, she tried to chew more quietly. She eased her foot off the brake and slowly rolled forward, gaining a few more yards.
“How’s traffic on the 405?”
Her scalp prickled. And then she recognized the voice. “Charlie?”
“Just trying out that phone tracker app. Plus I wanted to see how things went with Oleg.”
“Things went . . . okay. Scott had already straightened out things with the IRS before he died.” She took a deep breath. “I also showed Oleg the ring.”
“What did he say?”
Mia managed a laugh. “Get this. It’s a fake. The stones are cubic zirconia.” If only it had been real, she could have sold it and used the money to fill in the hole Scott had dug her.
“Maybe he bought it to match Betty’s breasts.”
Trust Charlie to be coarse, but right now she welcomed it. Much better to be coarse than to cry. “What I don’t understand is why he bothered to hide it.” Putting on her turn signal, she managed to sneak into the middle lane, which promptly stopped moving.
“He must have been afraid that you would drop by the office and find it.”
Mia thought of the girl’s pretty, sulky face. “Or that Betty would, prematurely. Maybe he was planning some big dramatic presentation.” She wondered when he had been thinking of giving it to the girl. Before or after he asked Mia for a divorce?
“The thing is,” Charlie said, “Betty hasn’t been seen since April.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried to track her down, but she doesn’t seem to be anyplace. She’s not working. She was going to school in accounting, but she stopped attending classes in the middle of spring term. The closest I came to finding her was finding her boyfriend.”
A tiny pulse of hope beat in Mia’s chest. “Betty had a boyfriend?” Maybe she hadn’t understood the photo or the meaning of the ring. Maybe the photo had shown two friends at dinner. Maybe he had planned to replace Mia’s ring.
“It sounds like she has a history of overlapping relationships. The boyfriend, Jared, was a student at U-Dub with her. He said that when he met her, Betty was dating her Taco Time manager. After that she moved on to—and in with—Jared. Then she started out as Scott’s intern, but he said it was clear she was seeing someone else. He was sure it was Scott.”
“So Betty was cheating too? She and Scott made quite a pair.” Mia let out a little bark of a laugh. Even to her own ears it sounded ugly. “So our girl Betty was working her way up the food chain. Taco Time manager to student to accountant. So who’s she with now? Some midlevel manager?”
“The thing is, Mia,” Charlie said, “Jared said the last time he saw her was the night Scott died.”
“Then where is she?” A shiver ran over her skin.
“Jared said he got an e-mail from her the next day, saying he should just forget about her. But anyone can send an e-mail. Plus, she left all her stuff behind.”
“Do you think Betty was murdered too?” Her thoughts were whirling.
“I don’t know what to think. But if she was killed, then why hasn’t her body turned up?”
“Maybe she’s the one who killed Scott, and then she ran off?” Mia startled as someone behind her honked. A space the length of three cars had opened in front of her. She jackrabbited forward, then hit the brakes. “Maybe Betty figured out that he was all flash and no substance, just like that fake engagement ring he was planning on giving her even though he was already married.”
“But why go to all that trouble to make it look like an accident?” Charlie said.
“What if it wasn’t planned?” Mia was feeling her way. “What if they were going someplace that night, they started arguing, and she jerked the wheel or he overreacted and they crashed?”
“There was some intrusion into the passenger compartment,” Charlie said. “But if she was wearing a seat belt, he could have hit the passenger door ahead of her, or even the dash. If his body had hit hers, Betty would have been pretty badly hurt too.”
“But then why would she hit him in the head?” Mia was only a mile away from the law school now. The answer came to her, the one that had sounded so outlandish only a few days earlier. “Maybe she saw how badly hurt he was and thought she should put him out of his misery?”
Charlie’s voice sped up. “And she found a branch or a rock or—does Gabe play baseball? Could one of his bats have been in the car?”
Mia didn’t know, but she thought about Betty’s boyfriend. “Or what about this Jared? Do you think he could have forced Scott off the road and killed him?”
“He seemed more sad than mad,” Charlie said. “And that wouldn’t explain where Betty is.”
“Maybe he killed her someplace else. Or maybe this Jared and Betty did it together. Or he’s covering for her.” All they had were questions and no answers. Suddenly Mia was so, so tired. She stuffed another handful of chips into her mouth, not even trying to hide her chewing. “But I guess the bottom line, Charlie, is why should I care? The more I learn about Scott, the more I wonder.”
Mia did care, but it wasn’t in the right way. The only emotion she felt was anger. Not just at Scott. She was angry at herself. Angry at her own naïveté. How could she have been such a fool? She kept remembering the pitying look in Oleg’s eyes when he looked up from the ring. The way Charlie had looked at her when he showed her Betty’s picture on the computer screen.
“I was married to him for sixteen years. It’s pretty clear I was
an idiot. I just don’t know how long I was one.” How many other couples had she seen go through an affair when she secretly thought to herself that the other partner had surely known and turned a blind eye? Only now it was her. She must have wanted to be blind.
“Scott was smart,” Charlie said. “He covered his tracks. He had two sides and he only showed you one.”
“That’s because I only wanted to see one. I knew he was cheating on me, Charlie, I knew it in my bones, but I never confronted him. I just went bleating after him, trying to get him to love me again. I was pathetic, like some beaten dog crawling back to its owner.” Tears flooded her eyes, making it hard to see the road.
