SEE HER DIE (5 page)

Murphy was Gloria’s boss. She continually surprised the man. He knew how good she was and how hard she worked. She’d worked for him three years now and she always managed to amaze even him with one more unexpected coup. Gloria insisted it was the luck of the Irish. But Elizabeth knew differently. Her friend was smart and relentless, and had a sixth sense about market maneuvers. Those stubborn Irish genes didn’t hurt.

Wriggling out of her elegant suit jacket, Gloria called out her drink order to the passing waitress.

Elizabeth smiled for the first time that day. One of the things she liked most about Chico’s was that everyone was treated the same. It didn’t matter if you arrived wearing a power suit or baggy denim overalls. People from all walks of life frequented the place. Elizabeth could look around right now and point out the stock traders like her friend, the computer geeks, the starving artists and the electricians and plumbers who were much like her. No one, particularly the cantina staff, seemed to pay any attention to the differences.

“Sounds like your day was better than mine,” Elizabeth commented thinly, thoughts of MacBride’s visit drawing the black clouds back over her head.

Gloria studied her closely as the waitress plunked her diet soda before her. “You look like someone under bid you on a big contract. What happened?”

Elizabeth clutched her hands together in her lap and swore she would not get emotional. She had to stay calm. “An FBI agent paid me a visit today.”

Surprise claimed her friend’s features. “An
FBI
agent?”

Elizabeth nodded. “You remember after the funeral yesterday I told you about the good-looking guy who’d been so nice to me? You know, he gave me his handkerchief, like guys in the old movies we watch?”

A predatory gleam flashed in Gloria’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. You said he was really something.”

Elizabeth nodded grimly. “He is. He’s an FBI agent and he was there watching me.”

Disbelief registered. “He told you that?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “In a roundabout way.”

Gloria shook her head. “This is insane. How could they suspect you?”

Elizabeth stared at the red-and-white checked tablecloth. God, she didn’t want to have to tell Gloria this. The subject was still a little tender between them. But she lifted her gaze back to her friend’s and confessed, “He asked me to have dinner with him... the night of his murder.”

A beat of silence echoed, blocking out all other sound.

“Ned asked you to have dinner with him?” The color of excitement that had tinged Gloria’s cheeks only moments ago faded. “You didn’t agree. Not after...”

Her words trailed off. She didn’t have to say the rest.

Elizabeth knew.

Dammit, she knew.

She blinked back the tears she’d sworn she wouldn’t allow to fall. “He said he’d give me the video.”

“The video?” A stillness settled over Gloria.

Elizabeth nodded. “He promised he’d give it to me if I’d have dinner with him.” There was no need to tell her the rest. Ned had hurt them both badly enough. She wasn’t about to add insult to injury by telling Gloria he’d gone on and on about how much he cared for Elizabeth. It was a lie, anyway.

A line of confusion or maybe irritation creased Gloria’s usually smooth brow. “And you believed him?”

“I was afraid,” she confessed, her voice wavered. “I didn’t know what he’d do with it if I didn’t take it when he offered. There’s no telling what he might’ve done if—”

“You’re not the only woman he videoed,” Gloria said bluntly, her voice painfully hollow as all emotion except one—desperation—visibly drained from her. “He probably had one on each of us.”

“Maybe he destroyed the others,” Elizabeth offered, but they both knew that wasn’t likely.

Gloria snorted a dry laugh as she shook her head, her gaze distant, no longer focused on Elizabeth. “That lowlife bastard. I should have known he couldn’t be trusted.”

Elizabeth frowned. “How could you have known?”

Gloria gave a start, as if she’d forgotten where she was. She seemed suddenly out of sorts. “No, no. I... I meant that neither of us should be surprised by anything the cops uncover about him.”

“That’s true.” Elizabeth didn’t have time to analyze Gloria’s sudden edginess before they were interrupted.

“You ladies ready to order now?” The college age waitress paused at their table. Actually,
paused
wasn’t an adequate description. Her feet were planted firmly on the floor next to their table, but her hips never stopped swaying, the pencil in her hand poised above her pad.

Gloria ordered her usual salad with dressing on the side. Elizabeth ordered the same, since she wasn’t very hungry, anyway. When the waitress sashayed off, Gloria propped her elbows on the table and focused on Elizabeth.

“All right, so tell me what the fed wanted.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold and far too much like the way she had that day eight years ago when she’d been in a too-similar situation. “He wants to prove I killed Ned.”

“But you didn’t kill Ned,” Gloria countered, the edge back in her voice. “He can’t pin anything on you without evidence.”

“He knows we were supposed to have dinner that night.” Elizabeth resisted the urge to look away. This was Gloria. Her best friend in the whole world, no matter what had gone down between them where Ned was concerned, Elizabeth could trust Gloria.

“Did you have dinner together?” she asked pointedly, her eyes giving away the hurt hovering just beneath her strained composure.

“I went. For the video,” Elizabeth added emphatically. “He didn’t show. I waited about an hour and then I left.”

“Someone at the restaurant saw you, I presume.”

Elizabeth nodded. She sat up straighter, feeling oddly ill at ease with the tone of Gloria’s voice. What was the deal here? Was Gloria upset about Ned calling her? Elizabeth had thought they were past all this. The cards had been laid out on the table. Both of them had been taken in by the man. After much shouting and more tears they’d reached an understanding... and put it behind them.

Until now it seemed.

Damn him. If Ned had to die, why didn’t he just do it the old-fashioned way? A simple heart attack. Or, hell, even a taxi accident. Lord knew the cab drivers in this city were more than a little reckless.

“You told the fed that he didn’t show and that you went home, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t think he believed me.”

A new wariness slipped into Gloria’s surprisingly unsympathetic expression. “Why wouldn’t he believe you?”

Elizabeth’s heart threatened to burst from her chest. She wet her lips and forced out the words she didn’t want to say. “Because I lied.”

Gloria huffed in disbelief. “Damn it, Elizabeth, why did you do that?”

“I was angry, okay?” The people at the next table turned and stared. She took a breath and ordered herself to be calm once more, then began again, quietly, for Gloria’s ears only. “I wanted him to know he should never call me again. I was tired of him hurting us. So I went to his apartment. I banged on the door until he answered.” She shook her head. “He was pulling his clothes on, insisting he was running late.” She clenched her jaw to slow the emotions mounting all over again. “He was so apologetic. But I knew he was lying.”

“What’d you do?”

“I stormed into the apartment, straight to the bedroom. The sheets were tousled.” Her gaze locked with Gloria’s. “He’d called and pleaded with me to meet him for dinner, then kept me waiting an entire hour while he had a romp in the sack with someone else.”

Gloria closed her eyes, shuddered visibly. “Bastard,” she hissed. “I’m glad he’s dead.”

Elizabeth scrubbed her hands over her face. “We argued. I told him never to call me again. And then I demanded the video.” She made a sound, something along the lines of a laugh, but pathetically lacking in humor. “He just laughed at me. He...” She chewed her lower lip to stem the tears threatening. “He was going to use it to blackmail me. He told me I’d get it when he was through with me.” She shrugged, still scarcely believing her own stupidity. “I couldn’t believe it.”

Gloria’s breathing had grown as rapid and shallow as Elizabeth’s. “Tell me exactly what you did then.”

“I slapped him and he... he tried to...” She frowned, trying to remember the exact sequence of events. “He grabbed my arm and I fought to get away. Then I ran out.”

“Okay,” Gloria said, visibly grappling for her own composure. “You listen to me, Elizabeth. You do exactly as I say. Do you hear me?”

She nodded.

Gloria released a shaky breath. “You stick to your original story. He didn’t show, you went home. Don’t tell the cops anything else. This is a high-profile case. They’ll want to solve it as soon as possible. Pinning the rap on you would be the fastest route.” She reached across the table and placed a reassuring hand over Elizabeth’s. “What about the video?”

God, she could just die. “That’s the worst part. He wouldn’t give it to me... and the cops found it. That FBI agent, MacBride, told me he’d viewed it.”

“Damn.”

“My sentiments exactly.” Elizabeth stared down at their hands. What a mess. She might as well face it. She was in serious trouble.

“Look.” Gloria drew Elizabeth’s gaze back to hers. “You didn’t kill him. They can’t prove you did. Having sex with a man doesn’t make you guilty of murder.”

Elizabeth managed a shaky smile. Her friend was right. Regardless of how it looked, she was innocent. “True,” she agreed. She studied Gloria for a long moment trying to see what it was that nagged at her. She supposed her friend was just afraid for her... or angry that Ned had once again hurt her. “I really didn’t kill him, you know.”

Gloria squeezed her hand. “I know you didn’t. The cops are just looking for an easy out. If they had any real evidence, they’d arrest you.”

Been there, done that, bought the tee-shirt, Elizabeth thought grimly. “He brought up Billy and the drug charge.” Gloria knew the whole sordid story about Billy, the brother-in-law from hell, and the time Elizabeth had claimed her sister’s drug stash to save her from a beating. Elizabeth had never even tried drugs, but she had a possession charge on her record because she’d gone the distance for her only sibling. The other incident had been ruled self-defense. Peg was pregnant with her third child and her stupid husband had come home in a drunken rage and started beating her. Expecting to go into labor at any time, Elizabeth had spent the night at her sister’s since Billy was rarely around. Something had snapped inside her that night as she’d witnessed him beating her very pregnant sister. He’d come after her and Elizabeth had stopped him with the only weapon in the house, a butcher knife. She hadn’t killed him but she’d wanted to…she would have done anything to make him stop.

“Well,” Gloria said, dragging Elizabeth from the past, “that still doesn’t make you a murderer.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself again, feeling cold. “No, but it puts me at the top of the suspect list.”

Gloria frowned suddenly, as if she’d just remembered something important. “You said this MacBride is from the FBI?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Why would the FBI investigate a simple homicide case?”

Not sure she could answer that one, Elizabeth could only speculate. “They must think his murder is connected to others or,” she turned her hands up, “to some other criminal activity where the feds have jurisdiction.”

“Or maybe we’ve just seen too many TV dramas,” Gloria teased, acting more like her old self now. “Maybe the cops asked for their help since it’s such a high-profile case. The media will be all over every aspect of the investigation.”

“Could be.” Another thought occurred to Elizabeth. She shook her head in frustration. “It’d be just my luck that they think I’m some sort of serial killer.”

Gloria started to smile, then gasped and pressed her hand to her chest “Speaking of murder, I almost forgot” She grabbed the newspaper she’d tossed on the bench seat next to her. “Look at this.” She spread it open on the table.

She pointed to a headline that read
Fashion Designer Found Murdered.
Elizabeth skimmed the brief article. The details were gruesome.

“Remember her?”

Elizabeth glanced from the unnerving article to her friend. “Should I?”

“Look at the picture.” She tapped the photo to the left of the article.

Recognition dawned. The long-legged, raven-haired beauty at the funeral. The one with the Johnny Depp lookalike for an escort. “Oh, my God.” She looked up at Gloria. “She sat a couple rows in front of us at the funeral.”

Gloria nodded. “The scuttlebutt is that someone in the industry did in the hottest new competition.”

“My God,” Elizabeth repeated. She stared at the article. Who gave the press permission to print such grim specifics? Weren’t those details supposed to be kept hush-hush? The woman’s body had been found in her bedroom. Her throat had been slashed. “What kind of person could do that to another human being?”

“Yeah, really.” Gloria tapped the newspaper. “That’s the murder your FBI agent should be investigating. Not wasting time on some bastard who only got what he deserved.”

Elizabeth refolded the paper so she wouldn’t have to look at the woman’s picture. It was definitely too much right before lunch. “I’ll be sure to tell him that at our five o’clock meeting.”

Gloria tensed. “You have to talk to him again today?”

Elizabeth nodded. “At Twenty-Six Federal Plaza.” Seeing Gloria’s gaping expression, she added, “I think he’s trying to intimidate me into a confession.”

“Don’t tell him anything he doesn’t need to know,” Gloria warned again. “In fact, I’ll talk to a friend of mine about a good attorney for you, if you’d like.”

A worried sigh escaped Elizabeth. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I don’t think it will.” Gloria sounded a lot more confident than Elizabeth felt. “But it would be nice to have the right name to toss around. It might even get the feds off your back.”

“Good idea.”

The waitress zipped by, pausing only long enough to deposit their salads and ask if they needed anything else, to which they both replied no.