Dead Women Tell No Lies (14 page)

“What about firing your thirty-eight?”

“You want the truth? When I bought it, I figured the sight of the gun would frighten people away.”

“Here’s a sure fire way to scare people.” He bent forward until he was whisper away.

Her gaze fell on his mouth and a ripple of anticipation ran through her. “What?” she murmured and held her breath.

“Call-the-police.” He straightened and clapped his hands together. “We’ve talked enough about us. Your sister’s case is the topic I want to discuss.” He gulped tea as though to wash the past conversation out of his mouth. “What was up with your sister and the online social networks?”

What was he digging for? Unease tensed Rose’s shoulders. “What do you mean?” She focused on her food to avoid her nervousness. “What’s the seasoning in the poultry? It’s quite strong.” She pointed at the serving.

“Asian spices. I can’t find Dahlia’s tracks anywhere on the internet. Things aren’t adding up. How did her killer know she feared heights unless she shared the information with him?”

“Dahlia didn’t like people to know about her phobia, but you’ve a point. Why would he drag her out on the trestle when he could have thrown her into the water from the ledge?”

“He could just be a creep.”

“I know something creepier.” She debated for an instant and then plunged in. “Dahlia always believed she’d die on a bridge. She’d drive out of her way not to cross one. I thought she was silly, but not anymore.” Rose tightened her grip on the fork. “She must have trusted the killer and confessed her fright to him. He used all her fears to make Dahlia’s death gruesome.”

She sipped her drink. Bitterness lingered on her tongue, and she shoved the cup away. “You don’t think they have spiders in this place, do you? It’s kind of old and a few crawlies might live in a crack or two.” She hunched forward and inspected the wall.

“Aren’t spiders against the department of health guidelines for restaurants?”

“Spiders have a way of ignoring the health department.”

“Let’s get back to my questions. Your sister never told you, her twin, about online friends or joining a virtual group?”

He was fishing for something. “Dahlia didn’t need to talk to faceless or long distance people. We owned a boutique with real live customers, and she had a fiancé.”

“How’d she meet A. J. Edwards?”

Lennox was interrogating her. Her pulse picked up. “She met A.J. during the Christmas rush. He came into the store on his lunch break to buy gifts.”

“I want to talk to the man. Do you have the addresses of where he sent his presents or any ideas about his whereabouts?”

“He was always cash and carry. He seemed like a sweet guy. You think he was a fake? That he met my sister to kill her?” Why were the Blues women blind to men’s true character? Other women seemed to possess radar when it came to men who were bad for them.

“I believe everyone is guilty, until I personally rule them out. How did they feel about each other?”

“My sister loved him, and he loved her. They were engaged. You think he used the engagement to get closer to her? That he always planned on killing her?” Hideous. Now she really had no appetite.

“Your sister might have broken up with him because she saw more to him than she wanted to admit.”

Rose stared at her plate, considering his point. “Dahlia accused him of not being supportive of her dreams, but Dahlia’s dreams changed daily. You also need to understand my sister. She often fell passionately in love, but her relationships burned out quickly. Going for the long run was not her usual style. I’d hoped A.J. was an exception because I wanted her happy.”

“Maybe he was angry over the breakup and wanted to get even. Wouldn’t your sister share her fear of heights with him when they were together?”

“I wasn’t aware that she did, but I don’t know every word they spoke either.” Rose’s eyes widened. “He could have gotten revenge by throwing her off the bridge.”

“Describe the end of their relationship. What caused them to separate?”

Her stomach began to hurt with each new question, and her last fight with Dahlia hovered in the back of her mind. She inhaled and plunged into her sister’s past love life. “I think the relationship was over, at least, for my sister when Dahlia began to have no time for A.J. He seemed to take the end hard, but I never guessed he’d want payback.” In her mind, A.J.’s smile twisted into a sneer.

Lennox stared at her across the table with those perceptive blues. Was he guessing she was white washing the breakup?

“Your business kept her too busy for her boyfriend? I don’t get the picture. You reported searching the local bars for her. Dahlia had time to go out and join others, but she couldn’t spare an hour for A.J?”

“Dahlia went to the local bars after they broke up. She didn’t handle her pain well and used a few drinks to solve her problems and without considering the consequences.”

“Her lifestyle sounds dangerous.” He sat in silence, his expression dead sober. “I guess true love isn’t meant for everyone, including myself. I do better dealing with other emotions such as retribution.”

“From what I’ve seen, you can read people after a few words. You might have had the wrong partner in your marriage, but were too close to recognize the fact.”

“You sound like you’re scoping me out for your own reasons.”

She watched his gaze plunge to her mouth, then slide to her chest and back. A small thrill zipped through her. She squashed the feeling. Likely he was thinking of giving her more instructions on watching out for criminals. Besides, her sister’s murderer was on the loose. She didn’t have time for imaginary hook ups.

“Relationships are tricky. I don’t think I’ve ever understood them,” she confessed with a burst of honesty. “I never dreamed of a future without Dahlia either.” She paused to clear the lump from her throat. “Do you have any more questions for me?”

“Let’s get back to A.J. Did you meet his friends?”

“He introduced Dahlia to his co-workers at the garage. He only lived in Vermont for about five or six months. He was from Rhode Island.” Uneasy, she glanced at the sign labeled Exit, now her favorite word.

He lowered his gaze to her food. “Are you finished? You didn’t eat much.”

“I’m having a reaction to one of the ingredients.”

He tilted her dish toward him and scooped up forkfuls.

“Help yourself. It was kind of you to ask.” She tapped her foot under the table and stood up. “I’ll hit the ladies room while you finish.”

She spotted the waiter carrying their bill. “I left my purse in the car. Can you give me the key?” She’d better get her money before Lennox thought she was a freeloader.

“Not a good place for valuables, Blue.” He pulled the key from his pocket and held it out.

“Lecture noted.” She scooped up the key, strode past the indoor Koi pool and shoved through the door.

Lennox’s car sat by the building. The sound of music blasted across the lot. On the road, a figure dressed in a black hoodie pedaled away on a bike. A blaring boom box was tied to the handle bars.
Was that her neighbor?
The bicyclist disappeared around the corner.

She started to cross to the car and stopped. Keyed into the passenger door were two words.

“Rose?” Lennox joined her in the lot. “What’s wrong?

She pointed at the message on the car. DIE PIG.

Chapter 10

“My stalker’s here. He left me another message.” Rose’s gaze skipped over the parking lot. “How did he know where I was unless he followed us?” The goosebumps on her arms rose up and warned the coward could be hiding, spying on them.

“My car is fairly well known. Rose, are you listening?”

“Yes, your car etc. etc.” She paced a few steps toward the dumpster. The creep could be behind the garbage.

“Stand there.” He did a quick jog around the property’s perimeter. “No one’s around, and the graffiti is for me. I’m the pig. Someone spray painted a similar message on the station earlier today. A few people don’t like the police. I know it’s hard to believe when I have a winning personality.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Are you sure the threat is for you?”

“You can’t have all the Ledgeview whackos for yourself, Rose.”

“I thought I saw my neighbor, Bike Boy, pedaling away when I came out.”

“A camera at the station caught a figure with the same build as Bike Boy painting graffiti on the wall. Unfortunately, the lens didn’t catch a picture of his face.” Lennox crouched down in front of the damage. He ran his fingertips over the scratched area like a physician inspecting a broken arm.

“I’m sorry about your car.”

“She’ll be okay. Old Charger has suffered worse and always comes through.”

“I thought cops named their cars Old Paint. Your name fits though. Will the touchup be expensive?” She leaned against the side of the hood and studied the destruction.

“Forget the paint job. I’m taking care of you first.” His dark expression would send a normal person searching for cover.

“If it wasn’t Bike Boy who keyed your car, then the true sleezeball could still be around.” She did a three-sixty scan.

“I’m on it. Sit in the car for a second. You look like hell.”

“I’m fine. Though, if you spoke to your wife like that, I’m beginning to understand your relationship problems.”

“No personal commentaries.”

She flattened her hands against her sides. “Whoever keyed your car is a coward. He should come out and listen to the message I have for him.”

“I’ll pay the bill. Come with me.”

“I’ll wait by the car. How much do I owe?” She opened her purse.

“That’s not how it works.” He took her arm and propelled her toward the building.

“If the words on your car were for you, why do I have to go inside?” she asked, running to keep up with him.

“Because I’m always mistrustful, remember? I’m not leaving you alone.”

He slowed once they entered the restaurant. He paid the bill, but not before ordering the host to refuse Rose’s money. The man threw her a speculative glance. “You scared him,” she said as he led them to the kitchen. “He probably thinks I’m a counterfeiter.”

“You’re crediting him with too much imagination.”

He quizzed the waiters, cooks and manager. All claimed they were inside working and never glanced outside. The elderly patrons spouted off on the dangers of public parking and reported to have seen a stray dog hanging around the dumpster before they entered.

“As usual, no one saw a thing, except a dog that can’t talk and isn’t around. We’ve no suspects,” Rose noted as the exit door swung open for them.

A detective from the station strolled inside.

“Conroy, what are you doing here?” Lennox angled in front of him, drawing the detective to a halt.

Conroy’s eyes widened. He readjusted his glasses on his nose. “Did the mayor pass a law against eating lunch?”

“Since you’re never around when I expect a report, I’m surprised to run into you. Back from Vermont already?”

“The report must have gotten lost in all those files on your desk. I’m on my way out of the city in a few minutes.” Conroy raised his chin and stared Lennox in the eyes.

“When did you park in the lot?”

“I don’t have to punch in and out, but if it’s any of your business, which it’s not, I arrived three minutes ago. Mind if I order, or do you want to spring for my meal?”

“Eat yourself sick. Let’s go, Rose.”Lennox took her arm and they headed out.

She leaned toward him when they were out of earshot. “Doesn’t he work with you? I saw him at the station.”

“He’s a Ledgeview detective.”

“Would he key your car? He sounded angry the other day and not too happy today.”

“Don’t worry about Conroy. I’ll take care of him.” Lennox yanked open her car door and once he snapped his seatbelt in place, he headed toward her apartment.

She broke the silence after a few seconds. “Why did you come outside from the restaurant?”

“To make sure you were okay.”

It had been a long time since anyone cared if she was all right. She was usually the one who did the worrying about people in her life. It was nice to have someone else do the fretting about her.

“So no vibes of Dahlia at the Audi,” he said, slowing for a stoplight.

“I caught a glimpse of a shadow in the cellar. Myra claimed it was a rat.” Rose swallowed to ease her discomfort. “Let me explain.”

“I can’t wait to hear.”

“I found the door leading to the basement open, and I caught a whiff of my sister’s perfume drifting up the stairs. I was about to investigate when Myra interrupted me, and then, you appeared.” She leaned toward him for her big question. “What kind of perfume was Myra wearing?”

“Is this a trick?” he asked, turning onto Main Street.

“She was wearing rose perfume. Strange, huh?”

“Tell me more about the theater and your sister.”

She studied his face to discern if he was hinting at something. As usual, his profile gave nothing away. “Myra reported no one used the cellar stairs, and the door was always locked. She seemed to believe I unlocked it somehow. What matters, Lennox, is your friend, Buddy, lied to us.”