Never Con a Corgi (21 page)

Cara's lips mouthed a string of vulgarity such as Leigh had never heard before—at least, not from Cara. The other woman's face was beet red and her fists clenched the countertop so tightly her knuckles whitened. Leigh silently encouraged deep breaths.

"Well, that's just fabulous!" Gil fumed, his voice a strangled shout. "You heard her tell the detectives this?"

"I was standing right there!"

"And did you set them straight?"

The pause lasted only a heartbeat. "Of course I did," Courtney soothed. "I told them I'd known you for decades and that you would never cheat on your wife. You
did
know about Brandon and Diana already, didn't you?"

"I suspected," Gil replied gruffly. "But Brandon and I didn't talk about that sort of thing."

"I can see that," Courtney said wryly. "I wonder if he realized he was doing one of your rejects?"

"Diana wouldn't—" Gil was quiet for a moment. Then he muttered a curse. "Who knows what she told him? He was furious with me that night, but there were other reasons... I mean, he'd been acting like a lunatic for days—how the hell should I know what he was thinking?"

There was another pause, then Courtney's tone turned silky again. "Look, Gilsy, I know you didn't ask for any of this. Neither did I. But it's happened and... well, I really do need your help."

Gilsy?

Gil let out a rough exhale. "We've been through this already, Courtney. I'm the number one suspect in Brandon's murder. I can't be poking into his personal business now! I can't help you with the funeral, I can't sort out your finances, and I certainly can't have anything to do with Lyle Development. Can't you understand that?"

"That's not what I'm talking about," Courtney pressed, her voice dropping. "This is different. It's about me."

The room went silent.

"I'm scared, Gil."

Cara made an involuntary movement toward the shutters; Leigh shot out a quick restraining arm.

"Scared of what?" Gil asked tonelessly.

The next pause was nearly unbearable.

"Of a man I met in Chicago," Courtney continued soberly. "Just a month or so ago. I didn't think he was dangerous. Really, I didn't. I thought he was all show. But he was handsome and he was exciting... and he was crazy about me. But now... well, I'm not sure what he is."

"Why are you afraid of him?" Gil asked, his tone gentler now.

Courtney released a long, slow breath. "I may be overreacting. But just a couple days before Brandon died, this man found out that I was married. I thought he knew already... I wasn't keeping it a secret. I just didn't talk about it. But he heard about it from somebody else, and he totally flipped. He never even spoke to me, he just started throwing things around my apartment... and then he walked out. After that I started hearing things from people. About how crazy possessive he was. About how violent he could get. Even about another woman that he..." She paused a moment. "I was terrified. I texted him saying I was going on a shopping trip to New York, but I came back to Pittsburgh instead. I wanted to get some things and lay low for a while—maybe on the West Coast. Brandon wasn't at the condo when I got there, but Diana's crap was everywhere and I sure as hell didn't want to run into her, so I took my stuff and checked into a hotel. The next morning, the police called me on my cell and told me they'd been trying to locate me—that Brandon was dead."

"Did you tell the detectives all this?" Gil asked. There was a pause. Then he spoke again. "Why not? Courtney, do you realize this could open up the whole case?"

"Of course I do!" she fired back, struggling not to shout. "But what if I
am
overreacting, and he had absolutely nothing to do with Brandon's death? If he's not out to get me already, he sure as hell would be after I turned the Pittsburgh police onto him for a murder charge!"

Leigh could hear Courtney's heels clicking on the hardwood floor, could picture her pacing.

"But, still!" Gil argued. "Who is this guy? If he
did
—"

"Even if he did," Courtney retorted hotly, "there's no guarantee the police can prove it! He's so clever; you have no idea. The stories I've heard... and he's never gotten arrested for any of it. If he thought I betrayed him, I'd
never
be safe!"

The heels clicked some more.

"All I can do is wait it out," she finished. "Continue to pretend I really am on that shopping trip—at least until he cools down. He's texted me, finally, and I've texted back. I think we're making peace."

"He could be misleading you," Gil pointed out.

"I know that!" Courtney snapped. Her voice turned whiny again. "But don't you see? It's the only chance I've got to finesse my way out of this. Once his temper cools, I can go back to Chicago and let him break up with me. I played dazzling and seductive to get him; I can just as easily play boring and frumpy to lose him. Then I'll be free of him for good!"

"I don't like it," Gil protested.

"And I don't like being stuck in Pittsburgh!" Courtney exclaimed. "I don't feel safe at the hotel. There are only so many four-stars in town, and they all have only one way in and out. If he knew I was here, he could find me in a heartbeat! Whether he had anything to do with Brandon's murder or not, if he finds out I've been lying to him all this time, that when I told him I was going to New York I actually went home to my husband..." She let out a groan. "Can't you see that telling the police anything about him is only going to make matters worse for me?"

Gil exhaled roughly. "What is it you think I can do?"

Another pause. Courtney's voice became that of a frightened little girl. "Would you let me stay here for a while? I know you've got good security. But even if you didn't, no one in Chicago knows I have any ties to you. It would be the perfect hiding place!"

"Can I listen too, Mom?"

Leigh and Cara jumped a foot, their heads banging together with a clop as they simultaneously whirled to face Cara's twelve-year-old son, who stood lounging casually against the kitchen doorway.

He laughed out loud. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Mathias!" Cara chastised, rubbing her head. "You know you shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

The boy grinned devilishly. "If you say so."

Leigh rubbed her own aching head, wishing she could crawl under the countertop. How did she let Cara talk her into these things?

"So who's the lady?" Mathias asked, opening the cupboard and getting himself a glass of water. "I saw her come in, but Dad made me go upstairs. I suppose he didn't want to be overheard."

Smart aleck.

Leigh kept an eye on Cara's composure, but her cousin was perfectly in control. "She's an old friend of your father's," Cara said placidly. "And it's no concern of yours. Now go back upstairs, please."

"All right," Mathias said with disappointment. "Can I have a cookie first?"

"No."

"But I'm starving!"

"You can have a spinach ball."

The boy winced. "Never mind. G'night, Aunt Leigh."

"Goodnight, Matt," Leigh returned.

He walked out the door and into the hallway. They listened until they heard his footsteps complete the flight of stairs, then Cara turned abruptly to Leigh. "Unbelievable! We've got to go in there and—"

"Cara?" Gil's voice froze them both where they stood. They looked up to see him and a flustered-looking Courtney standing in the doorway to the living room. "I thought I heard the back door just now," he said, throwing them both a hard look.

Leigh attempted an innocent smile.

"Hello, Courtney," Cara said pleasantly. "It's nice to see you again. I wondered whose car that was. It's rather distinctive."

"Yes, I suppose it is," Courtney said thoughtfully. "It's nice to see you too, Cara. And Leigh," she added with a nod.

The air hung thick as tofu.

"Courtney was just leaving," Gil announced, gesturing his guest toward the front door. He spoke to her quietly as he walked her out. "I'll call Ken tonight and see what he says. If it's a go, I'll put you in touch with him. In the meantime, remember what I said."

Courtney's voice was barely above a whisper. "You won't say anything to the police, will you?"

"I'll do what I think is best for everybody," Gil answered stiffly. "Goodnight, Courtney."

The door shut. Gil returned to the kitchen.

Leigh braced herself for an explosion from Cara, but her cousin merely wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and held him tight. "I thought for a moment you might say yes," she confessed when she released him. "I was afraid you'd feel sorry for her."

"You know I'd never let anyone put you or the kids in danger," he said reproachfully, though his gaze was—as always with his wife of fifteen years—adoring. "And you'll be happy to know you didn't miss anything, either. We'd been in the study all of about thirty seconds when you arrived and moved into position."

Cara smirked. "You heard the van on the gravel?"

"Of course," he responded. "But Courtney didn't notice it." His eyes moved to his cousin in law. "Thanks for helping with my alibi, Leigh."

She nodded. "You are going to tell the police about this madman from Chicago, aren't you?" she asked impatiently. Courtney's confession to Gil did seem to fit with the woman's odd behavior on their walk in the rain downtown. Maura had to know ASAP.

Gil's jaws clenched with consternation. "I'll tell them what I know, of course," he responded. "But I'm not sure how much it will help. Courtney wouldn't give me his name—she seems terrified of what would happen if the police contacted him. It was all I could do to get a description out of her—and she would only give me that if I agreed to help her find someplace to stay."

"I don't want her coming back here," Cara said firmly. "I always knew she was a flake, but if I had any idea she was hooked up with mobsters..."

Leigh's own jaws clenched. She wasn't entirely sure Courtney had been telling Gil the truth, but under the circumstances, she didn't need to be sure. The thought of such a person being within a mile of her children made her blood freeze. She could not take any chances. "Do you really think this guy could be... connected?" she asked.

Gil's brow furrowed. "I have no way of knowing. Courtney can be overly dramatic. On the other hand, she's always been attracted to both money and trouble."

"She can't come back here," Cara repeated.

"Of course not," Gil agreed. "I told her that. She knows I won't lift a finger to help her if she comes near any of you again. But we all need to watch out for a man fitting this guy's description—just in case."

Leigh burned the details into her brain as Gil spoke them.
Tall and solidly built. Early fifties, but looks younger. Gray hair, dark eyes. Expensive taste in wardrobe, but more showy than sophisticated.

She would not forget.

"Where are you suggesting she stay?" Cara asked.

"I have a client from Philadelphia who leases an apartment downtown he rarely uses; I think he'd be willing to accommodate her," Gil answered. "She can make herself invisible enough in a crowd, as long as she watches how she uses her phone and stops driving such an easily recognizable car." He took his own phone from his pocket. "But my first call is going to Peterson."

Gil stepped away to dial a number, and Leigh took her leave. She had a sudden, irrepressible desire to check on the occupants of her own house.

She collected Chewie from the porch and headed down the drive. The distance between the cousins' houses was only a couple hundred yards, and the Marches had lit the whole way with lamp posts shortly after Leigh and Warren moved in. Even in the dark, it was a comfortable stroll Leigh had taken thousands of times. But tonight, every inch of it spooked her.

Her eyes roved the trees and bushes; her ears attuned to any sound that wasn't a passing car, frog, or cricket.

Tall and solidly built.

She chastised herself for the thoughts that swam in her head. She had no reason to act like a child who'd seen a scary movie. Hadn't she suspected that Courtney was mixed up with some bad-news guy in Chicago?

She had. But that was before. Before Courtney had invaded
her
space. Her
children's
space.

Gray hair. Dark eyes.

Leigh stifled a shudder. She clucked to Chewie and started to run. The corgi was game, as always, and by the time they reached her back door his momentum once again outstripped his brakes, making his backside swivel and bump against the house. "You nut," Leigh said fondly, letting him inside and locking the door behind her.

They should keep all the doors locked for a while.

All the time.

She looked into the family room for Warren, but hearing the water running, realized he must be in the shower. She checked to make sure the front door was locked, then started to put out the lights. When she reached the doorway of the dining room, she saw Allison.

The girl was sitting at the computer in her nightgown, quiet as a mouse, so absorbed in the screen that she hadn't seemed to notice her mother's approach. Leigh opened her mouth to remind her daughter that bedtime had long since passed, but the words stopped in her throat.

Allison was looking at pictures of dead things. The bodies of animals in varying states of decay. Road kill. Deer carcasses. She scrolled down and paused on the skeletal remains of a dog. She enlarged the picture and zoomed in on the hindquarters.

"Allison!" Leigh croaked, finding barely enough air in her lungs to form the words. "What on earth are you doing?"

The child startled, then immediately closed the page. "I was just doing some research, Mom," she said meekly, shutting down the whole computer. "I know I shouldn't be up so late, but I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry."

Leigh tried to slow her heart rate. She still could barely talk. "Researching what?"

Allison didn't answer immediately. She slipped past her mother and headed down the hall toward her room. "Just something animal related I'm working on," she said vaguely. "Sorry—I know pictures like that gross you out. I'm going to bed right now, promise. Goodnight!"