A Witness in Disguise (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 10) (4 page)

BOOK: A Witness in Disguise (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 10)
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Chapter 5

 

 

I’m sure nobody looks forward to the act of breaking up with someone
.  Thankfully, I’ve only had to do it a few times in my life.  Breaking up with a cheating asshole can be invigorating.  Dumping a wonderful man who has done nothing wrong in particular? Well, it just sucks.

Max has been a great
boyfriend, albeit his perpetual absence due to work.  I can’t blame him for that; he’s only been trying to better his position in life. 

The writing has been
on the wall for months.  Moving clear across the country was not what I ever wanted, which has made it easier to accept our fate.

Yet
I found myself fussing with my hair and make-up and taking too long to choose a flattering pair of jeans and top.  Why did I care what I looked like?

 

When Max showed up at my apartment at five minutes to six, he barely had a moment to put his backpack down because I took him in my arms and held him tightly.  I breathed in the smell of him; that wonderful scent of his pine soap mixed with aftershave. 

“Hey, you,” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist
.  “I missed you, too.”

“I’m sorry,”
I muttered, my face nuzzled into his neck.  It was all I could think of to say.  My guilt had rendered me speechless.

He slowly pulled away and looked at my face
.  He knew something was wrong.  “Sorry about what?”

I just shook my head, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me.

Max’s shoulders slumped.  He stated “You’re not going to San Francisco with me, are you.”

It wasn’t a question and
, therefore, I didn’t feel the need to answer.  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.  Apparently, those were the only two words left in my vocabulary.

Max stood there for a moment as if waiting for me to break down laughing, like it was all a big joke
but, of course, I didn’t.

“What changed your mind?” he finally said.

I’d rehearsed the inevitable response many times in my head but now faced with the actual question, my brain failed me.  So I did my best to divert the subject until I had some liquid courage.  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

He
sighed, nodded and dropped into the couch.  “Sure, why not.  I think I could use some right about now.”

I turned
on my heel and went to the kitchen to fetch the bottle of red that I’d already opened.  I poured two glasses and joined him on the couch.

Max ra
n a hand through his wavy, brown hair and made an effort to smile.  He took a sip of wine and took his time. I could practically read his thoughts.  He must have been confused as hell.

Finally, he looked at me with those puppy dog eyes
.  “I have to admit, this is not how I saw this evening playing out.  I figured this evening would be more of a celebration.”

I had to stop myself from saying I was sorry
, yet again.  Max deserved an explanation, not platitudes.  So I took a sip of wine, swallowed and decided to tell him the truth - or at least a good portion of it.  “You know how hard I’ve worked to start a new career.  I have Carter to thank for that and it wouldn’t be right to leave him now.”

Max
slowly nodded but said nothing. 

I continued, “
Also, I’ll admit that I’m afraid.  What if things don’t work out with us in California? What if you discover that I’m not so easy to live with?”

“C’mon,” he said
.  “You’re a risk taker.  I thought you’d be up for an adventure.  Besides, you’re the easiest person to get along with.”

“I have too much to lose,” I said
, resolutely, “and I’ve learned my lesson to
not
put all my eggs in one basket.”

“If you go to California with me, I promise
I won’t break your eggs, Sarah.”

I smiled at hi
s attempt to humor me but he must have realized there was no point in trying to change my mind.  He finished off his glass of wine and set it on the side table. 

I braced myself for what I thought would be an uncomfortable good-bye but
, instead of storming out of my apartment in anger, Max surprised me when he offered to take me out to dinner.

I blinked at him
.  “Are you sure? You’re not upset with me?”

He leaned back and shook his head
.  “I have no reason to be upset with you, Sarah.  I mean, I’m not thrilled about your decision but I understand it.”

I let out a
deep sigh of relief.  What had I expected? Of course Max was cool about this.  Maybe he was even relieved in some ways.  Maybe deep down he feared it wouldn’t work out.

He laughed
at the tight expression on my face.  “Did you really think I’d be pissed?”

I shrugged
.  “I didn’t want you to think I was jerking you around.”

“I know y
ou better than that.” He chuckled.  “You don’t jerk people around unless you’re working, of course.”

Max reached out for my hand and pulled me up from the couch
.  He smiled down at me, hands cupping my face.  He leaned in, kissed me softly on the lips and then pulled away.  My heart ached, knowing this would probably be our last supper.  Suddenly, the tears came and I couldn’t stop them.

Max wrapped his arms around me
, caressing my back and we rocked back and forth in that embrace for some time.  Finally, I looked up at him and laughed.  “You know I’m not a crier, right? So I hope you take this as a compliment.”

He smiled,
wiped away my tears with his thumb and whispered, “This is not a good-bye, Sarah.  You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I didn’t know what he meant by that but I didn’t ask
.  I let him take me out to dinner. 

I only wish I
could have remembered it.

             
Chapter 6

 

 

The next morning I woke up in bed wearing only my underwear
.  I had a raging headache and it took me a few seconds to remember why. 

Max
had taken me out to our favorite Mexican restaurant and, for the first hour, I remember feeling so relieved.  I was impressed with Max’s gracious attitude for not being upset that I’d changed my mind about moving away with him.  However, at some point after my third margarita, things got rather fuzzy.  How many more drinks had I guzzled? I couldn’t remember. 

Not good.

At one point, I do recall Max having to help me up to my apartment and putting me to bed.  Obviously he’d undressed me, but why? Had I puked all over myself? God, I hoped not!

The clock on my nightstand told me it was just past 8:00 am, so I
grabbed my robe and went to the kitchen.  I half expected Max to be sitting at the kitchen table with coffee mug in hand and a sleepy smile on his face.  I looked around for a note and was mildly disappointed not to find one.

H
e must have recently made a pot of coffee because the aroma of fresh ground French Roast filled the air.

I paused, listening to the sound of birds chirping happily through an opened window
.  I advanced to the window and looked out toward the street where Max usually parked his Jeep.  Gone.

As I poured myself a cup of coffee, I briefly wondered if we’d had sex
the night before.  No, I
definitely
would have remembered that.  Since my nether regions didn’t feel the slightest bit sore, I realized that Max had not taken advantage of my drunken stupidity.

I dearly hoped I hadn’t made an ass of myself
.  I didn’t want Max’s last memory of me being a sloppy drunk.

 

When I emerged from the shower ten minutes later, I felt like a new woman with the help of a few Advil.  Carter called around 8:30, said he was on his way to pick me up.  We had a meeting to see Dr. Amos, the pediatric dentist, at 9:00.

I did the best I could to cover the bags under my eyes with make-up
.  A few drops of Visine helped with the redness.  My long brown hair was a lost cause and I didn’t feel like fussing with it, so I tied it back in a ponytail. 

 

* * *

The first thing Carter
asked me when I got into the Buick was how the discussion went with Max.  What could I say?

“He took it pretty well
,” I said.

Carter remained silent
and I knew he was waiting for more details. 

So I continued
.  “He offered to take me out to dinner and I figured it might be the last time we saw each other in a while.  Once he’s in California permanently, I can’t imagine our paths will cross again.” I realized it sounded like an excuse, but it was true.

He finally looked at me
.  “Are you okay with how it ended?”

“Yeah
.  I’m good with it.  I know it was the right decision.”

Carter gave a satisfied sigh and I could see his shoulders relax
.  He shifted the car into drive and pulled out into the street heading towards downtown.  “Not to change the subject but I got more information about Cliff Collins’s fiancée.  Heather Madison is twenty-nine and she’s the daughter of Luke Madison.  Does the name ring a bell?”


Luke Madison?” The name meant nothing to me.  “Should it?”

“Well, he’
s a Senator and his wife is a Supreme Court Judge.  Their only daughter graduated from Harvard but she’s not currently working.  Planning a wedding seems to be her only future endeavor.  It’s all she brags about on her Facebook page.”

“Okay,” I said
.  “But why do you think she’s important to our case?”

“Hear me out for a second
.  What if Heather saw Cliff having coffee with Meagan?  Maybe she followed Meagan back to her house that night and killed her in a jealous rage.”

I gave it
some thought but I just couldn’t buy it.  “Meagan and Cliff only met that day.  Even if Heather was an insanely jealous person, to kill Meagan after only one date seems a bit far-fetched, unless Cliff lied to us.  Maybe he and Meagan had more than one date.”

“Ah,” Carter said
.  “That would make more sense as to why Meagan invited him back to her house.”


Unless Heather is a bodybuilder, I can’t imagine she could drag a hundred and twenty pound body into her car all by herself without leaving some kind of evidence.  Unless she dragged her out to the woods and buried her?”

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” he said.  “Heather’s name never came up in the police report so I bet they never talked to her or even considered her a person of interest.”

“It’s
worth looking into.”

“Good.” He grinned
.  “Because I happen to know where she is right now: at the Bridgeport Spa getting a manicure.”

I rolled my eyes
.  “Let me guess, she posted it on Facebook.”

“Of course.”

I pumped my fist in the air.  “Nice.  I love when people make it easy for us.”

 

* * *

The Bridgeport Spa is a wonderful, enchanting place to go, provided you like paying triple the amount for any given spa service they offer
.  The last time I set foot in this place was five years ago, after my ex Daniel gave me a $25.00 gift certificate for my birthday.  It was a sweet gesture but, needless to say, there wasn’t a single service I could buy for that amount of money.  The cheapest item on their spa menu was $30.00 and that was for an upper lip wax.  I hadn’t needed an upper lip wax so I opted for the next cheapest item, which was an eyebrow wax; that was, as it turned out, to be a huge mistake.  The woman used so much wax on my brows that when she was done, I looked in the mirror and almost fainted.  My once thick brows were suddenly reduced to ultra-thin arched lines over my eyes that made me look like a mannequin and not in a good way.  Devastated, I left the place without leaving a tip.  It took six very long weeks to grow my eyebrows back to normal. 

As Carter and I walked through the lobby, he nodded to the manicure station to the left
.  A twenty-something woman with shoulder length blonde hair jabbered to the manicurist as she painted her nails a bright, glossy red.  “That’s definitely her.  I guess we wait until she’s done.”

As I glanced around the place, I noticed the middle-aged receptionist at the desk eying us curiously, her elevated chin a clear indicator that she thought we must be lost
.  The fact that we weren’t wearing Rolex’s and/or Chanel outfits was probably her first clue, among many others.

My initial thought was to waltz up to her and ask her why she felt the need to act so superior when
, in fact, she was just an employee of some overpriced sub-par Spa.  Before I could summon the courage, Carter was guiding me back out the door.

Once outside, I looked around for the nearest coffee shop
.  “Let’s grab a cup of joe.  We might be waiting a while.”

“Good idea,” Carter replied.

 

Twenty-five minutes later, Heather emerged from the spa looking pleased with herself
.  As she took a left out of the spa and headed toward the parking garage she checked herself out in the window.  Carter and I followed at a safe distance.  I couldn’t help but notice what great shape Heather was in.  She completely rocked the tight jeans and low-cut top but the over-confident swagger was a bit much.  Also, she pretended not to notice the guys ogling her as she passed by them.  For a split second, I wondered if Carter had been admiring her firm bottom as well.

Finally, we tailed her into the parking garage, where Heather aimed her key fob to a pristine, white convertible Audi
.  The unlock alarm sounded and echoed off the concrete walls.

We closed in on her, just as she was about to open the driver’s side door.

“Heather Madison?” Carter called out.

At the sound of his voice, she turned abruptly, stared at us and said nothing.

Carter introduced us as private detectives and held out his hand. 

She didn’t bother to reciprocate
.  “What do you want?”

“A few minutes of your time, is all.”

She paused to assess us with what I perceived as judgmental eyes.  “Sorry, but I’m late for another appointment.”

Carter stood his ground
.  “Aren’t you the least bit interested in what this is about?”

She sighed contemptuously
.  “No, not really.  Like I said, I’m late.  So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Carter looked at me, as if I might be able to say something to change her mind
.  So I said the first thing that came to me.  “Ms. Madison, did your fiancé Cliff tell you that we talked to him yesterday?”

She stopped, turned and glowered at me “
If this is about that Meagan girl, I don’t know anything about it.”


Well,” I said, trying to act nonplussed.  “You and Cliff have been dating on and off for years.  I could understand you might be a little jealous.  Mind if I ask where you were on the night she disappeared?”

Her eyelashes fluttered with annoyance
.  “Do you realize I could have you both arrested for harassment?”

I laughed
.  “Of course, you don’t have to answer our questions but then it would seem like you’re trying to hide something.  Are you trying to hide something?”

She placed a perfectly manicured hand on her hip and exhaled forcibly
.  “This is ridiculous.  Do you know who you are talking to? Have you any idea who my parents are?”

“Yes,” I replied
.  “But their status doesn’t intimidate me.  Besides, we’re just asking one simple question.  If you answer it honestly, you never have to speak to us again.  We’ll be out of your perfectly salon colored hair.”

Her green eyes flashed anger
.  “Don’t try to manipulate me.  Do you think I’m stupid?”

I put my hands up in surrender and backed away
.  “I guess you have no intention of making this easy.  We’ll have to find another way.”

Suddenly, Heather’s shoulders dropped, as if she felt exhausted and defeated
.  “Look, last April was a bad time for me.  Cliff and I had broken up earlier in the month and we weren’t speaking to each other.  That night of the 3rd, I went out drinking with my girlfriends and got completely hammered.  I don’t remember much of that evening; but if you don’t believe me, I’ll give you their names so you can call to confirm it.”

Carter retrieved his notebook from his back pocket
.  “Ready when you are.”

“Kathy Hanson, Cheryl Black, Tori McFadden and Samantha Quinn.”

Carter offered her an appreciative smile.  “Thank you.  We really appreciate this.”

Heather pursed her lips and stared at the ground
.  “Please don’t call my parents.  They don’t need to be bothered with this, okay?”

“Not a problem,”
he said, returning the notebook to his back pocket. 

“Sorry.
” She looked at her cell phone and grunted.  “I really have to go now.  I wasn’t lying when I said I had another appointment.”

Carter stood to the side and allowed her to open the car door
.  “Good luck with the wedding, by the way.”


Thanks.” She got into her car without another word and drove off.

 

“She’s too ditzy to be a Harvard graduate,” I said to Carter.  “Wanna bet her mom and dad pulled some strings to make that happen?”

“I’m sure they did
.  I just wonder if they pulled some strings to clear their daughter as a suspect in Meagan’s abduction.”

“I doubt they could
.  Detective James would have mentioned something.”

Carter shrugged
.  “Did you notice how quickly she produced the names of her girlfriends? How hard would it be for her to convince her friends to lie for her?”

“True
.  She could have bought them all new Tiffany bracelets.  That would be enough incentive.  But we should still contact them.”

“Meanwhile, let’s go visit Meagan’s dad at the hospital and see if he’s well enough to talk about his daughter.”

 

 

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