Thugs and Kisses (16 page)

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Authors: Sue Ann Jaffarian

Tags: #fiction, #mystery, #midnight ink

BOOK: Thugs and Kisses
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The Oliver home was located on a hillside in La Habra Heights. It took us just shy of an hour to reach it. It was a very large multi-level yellow house surrounded by lots of mature vegetation, and a winding brick path lead from the street, up the incline, to the front door. Hanging on the door was a fall wreath with a calico bow that gave the property a welcoming feel.

We had to wait a few minutes after Sally rang the bell for the door to open. From the other side, we heard the barking of a dog and someone asking someone else to take it somewhere. When the door finally opened, we were face to face with a woman a bit younger than us, probably just past forty. She was trim and wore gray sweatpants and a pink tee shirt. Her blond hair was gathered up on her head haphazardly with a clip. In spite of the dark circles under her eyes, she was very attractive. Sally introduced her to me as Cindy Oliver and handed her the bundt cake.

The inside of the house was inviting and cozy, with hardwood floors, and walls and furnishings in various earth tones, accented here and there with a splash of bright color. It had an upscale yet lived-in feel to it. From every window was a spectacular view.

“It’s a nice day,” Cindy said. “Would you like to sit outside?”

She showed us outside to a pleasant and well-tended deck overlooking a lower-level yard. The back yard was large but sloped with more mature vegetation, including tall eucalyptus trees bordering the property. At Cindy’s bidding, we sat at a round teak table while she disappeared inside with the cake. A moment later, she returned and settled in at the table. Soon after, an older version of Cindy appeared with a tray holding cups and saucers and a carafe. Several slices of the fresh cake were arranged on a small dish next to a stack of napkins.

“I made some coffee for you ladies,” the woman said. “But if you prefer tea, just let me know.”

“Coffee will be fine, thank you,” Sally said for the both of us.

The woman gave us a small smile tinged with stress and sadness. “And thank you so much for the cake. Once the girls see it, it will be gone in a jiffy.”

After the woman put down the tray, Cindy put a hand on the woman’s arm. “This is my mother, Carolyn Poppin. She and my father flew in right after … after it happened.” Cindy smiled up at the woman. “She’s been a godsend, especially with the girls.”

Carolyn Poppin smiled down at her daughter and squeezed the hand on her arm. “I’ll let you ladies talk. Just don’t tire yourself too much, Cindy.”

“How are you doing, Cindy?” Sally asked after Mrs. Poppin returned to the house.

“Okay, I guess, but it has been much more difficult for the girls.”

“They around?”

“No, my dad took them to the movies to keep their minds off things.”

Sally hesitated but continued. I could tell she wasn’t used to pressing people when it came to personal matters—unlike me, who was fast turning it into a second career. “Cindy, you know there was no love lost between Donny and me, but please know I hold no hard feelings against you and the girls.”

“I know that, Sally. The girls and I have always liked you and Jill, and we’ve always considered Lucas part of our family.” She paused and looked off in the direction of the lower yard, then back at Sally. “I always felt he was wrong taking Lucas from you like that, but he wouldn’t listen to anyone. By the way, how is Lucas taking this?”

“He’s doing well, thank you. In spite of everything, Donny was his father, so, of course, it’s natural for him to be having mixed feelings of both grief and relief.”

Cindy nodded in understanding.

After taking a couple of sips of the excellent coffee, I got down to business. “Cindy, why didn’t you go to the reunion with Donny that night?”

She focused her tired blue eyes on me. “Are you also going to ask if I have an alibi?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what the police did. First, they wanted to know why I didn’t go with Donny to that stupid reunion. Next, they wanted to know where I was that night, who I was with, and if anyone could prove it.”

“And you said?” Just as I asked the question, Sally deftly kicked me under the table. I shot her a semi-dirty look. After all, we didn’t come here for coffee and cake, we came here for answers. My attention settled back on Cindy, waiting for her answer to my question.

Sally stepped in. “Cindy, you told me you didn’t go to the reunion because Donny said you’d cramp his style. What do you think he meant by that?”

Cindy took a piece of cake and placed it on a napkin in front of her. She picked at the edges. “That reunion was important to Donny. It was his return to his glory days. He talked about it for weeks. I knew I’d end up sitting in a corner, bored into oblivion. It was better for both of us that I stayed home. Besides, it had been a long time since we’d gone anywhere as a couple, why pretend for that night?”

“So you were home that night?” I asked.

“Yes, Odelia, I was home that night. My two oldest daughters were with me. We ordered pizza, made popcorn, and watched movies. My youngest was at a sleepover. The pizza guy can confirm I was here, as can a neighbor who stopped by to say hello.”

Despite Sally’s sturdy shoes and good aim, I persisted in my line of questioning. “Were you and Donny separated?”

Cindy looked at Sally. “Nosy thing, isn’t she?”

Before Sally could say anything, I jumped in. “Yes, I am, especially when I’ve been under suspicion myself, and so has Sally. I know
I
didn’t kill Donny. And I’m pretty sure Sally didn’t kill him, but you I don’t know.”

Cindy Oliver leaned forward and locked eyes with me. “I didn’t kill my husband, Odelia, but I’m not sorry he’s dead. It saved me the trouble of a divorce.”

“Is that a yes on the separation question?”

Sally kicked me again. This time I turned on her, spitting ten-penny nails in spite of my cold.

“You kick me one more time,” I warned her, “and I swear I’ll throw you over the edge of this deck. You asked for my help in clearing your name, and I’m doing just that. After all, I’m not the one who tried to kill Donny a few months ago, and I was dancing with a cop at the time of the murder, so it’s not like I’m here to save my fat ass.”

Sally held up both hands, palms out, in surrender. “Since you put it that way, go right ahead.”

Turning to Cindy, I gave her a look that I hoped would loosen her tongue. It did.

“Donny and I were not separated,” she began. “At least not yet. But we were going our separate ways more and more. I was going to file for divorce right after Christmas. I would have sooner, but I didn’t want the girls to have to deal with that over the holidays.”

I looked from Cindy to Sally, and back at Cindy. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The two of them looked at me like I was crazy, which I was beginning to think myself. The incident with Greg and my increasing discomfort from my head cold had definitely put an edge on my already cranky demeanor.

Returning to my questioning, I asked Cindy, “Why were you going to divorce him? I mean, I know he was an ass, but what specifically caused you to want to do it now instead of a year or two ago?”

Cindy looked away. I took the opportunity to sip more coffee and nibble on a bit of cake. “Jill’s cake is fantastic,” I whispered to Sally. She gave me a look that was as good as a kick under the table.

“I fell in love.” The words came from Cindy and were almost lost in the slight afternoon breeze. She cleared her throat. “I wanted to leave Donny a long time ago, but he was always threatening to take the girls from me if I did. I remember how horrible he was to Sally over Lucas, so I stayed to make sure my girls always had me with them.”

“But Cindy,” Sally said, “that probably wouldn’t have happened to you. Donny won because I’m a lesbian and the judge was a narrow-minded, bigoted fool.”

Cindy turned back and gave us a fake rubbery grin. “And I’m a drug addict.”

I dropped the tidbit of cake I was holding, and Sally openly gasped.

“You mean you once were a drug addict?” Sally asked.

“Once a druggie, always a druggie.” Cindy recited the words calmly, as if she were telling us the world was round. She sighed. “I’ve been clean almost four years. I became addicted to painkillers after I had a hysterectomy. Donny said he would file for custody based on my being a drug addict and an unfit mother. I couldn’t let him do to me and my girls what he did to you and Lucas.”

The three of us sat quietly as the breeze flowed through the trees like an autumn lullaby, as if its only job were to soothe bad memories and kiss emotional boo-boos. If it were only that simple. Donny had scarred the three of us, but me the least. I don’t know what I would have done in Sally or Cindy’s shoes.

Finally, I broke the reflective silence. “You said you fell in love.”

Cindy looked at me, and I noted small tears running down her smooth cheeks. “Yes, just over a year ago.”

A slight sound and movement caught my attention. I turned quickly and caught Mrs. Poppin watching from the kitchen window; no doubt she was listening, too. As soon as she realized she’d been caught eavesdropping, she moved out of sight.

“Is that why you were finally leaving Donny?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think.” Cindy wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and pulled a nearby chair closer so she could prop her feet up. She gave a short laugh. “Maybe if I get comfortable enough, I can pretend this is a visit to my shrink and spill my guts.”

I found myself liking Cindy Oliver.

With her feet elevated, she leaned back in her chair and looked up at the deck covering, then to us. Exhaustion covered her face like a film, dulling what I was sure was celebrated beauty in better times.

“Like I said, I fell in love, but I wasn’t leaving Donny for him. I met him quite by accident at the car dealership, of all places.” She smiled when she spoke. “We were both getting our cars serviced and had to wait quite awhile. Eventually we struck up a conversation. He was so nice, so mellow and kind. So unlike Donny. I was sorry when they told him that his car was ready. When he went to pay for the repair, he discovered he had forgotten his wallet, so I offered to put his repair work on my credit card.”

I was incredulous. “You did that for a stranger?”

She shrugged. “By then, I didn’t feel he was a stranger. Also, it turned out he knew Donny. Later that day, like the gentleman I knew he was, he called and asked if he could take me to lunch to thank me and to give me the cash. I almost told him just to mail me a check, but at the last minute I said yes to the lunch. We met for lunch the day after and once a week since then, until just a couple of months ago.”

Sally leaned forward with interest. “You don’t see him anymore?”

Cindy shook her head. “No, though we have remained very close friends. He’s married, but unlike me he was merely going through a rough patch, not a rough marriage. From the beginning, we both knew we wouldn’t end up together. It was just too complicated, and he did really love his wife—still does. We were there for each other when we needed to be. I have no regrets.”

“So you
weren’t
going to leave Donny for this man?” Sally was still leaning forward, soaking up every word.

“I was leaving Donny for myself and for my girls. I didn’t just fall in love with Victor, I fell back in love with myself, and it was time to take care of myself and face whatever Donny threw at me in court. It was because of Victor that I saw myself as being capable of—”

I cut her off by holding up a hand. Even with my cold-medicine-dulled mind, the name Victor caught my attention. “Victor? The guy’s name is Victor, and he knew Donny?”

Sally shot me a wide-eyed look. I glanced her way, then refocused on Cindy. A cold, hard possibility had just struck me broadside across my brain. After thinking about what I wanted to say, I forged ahead.

“You didn’t come to the reunion because you thought you’d be bored. You didn’t come because you didn’t want to meet Victor’s wife or see Victor and Donny together.”

Sally leaned back in her chair and ran her fingers through her short, blond hair. “Christ on a cracker.”

Cindy said nothing. She looked down at her hands, which twitched and moved with nervous tension. A new river of tears started down her cheeks. When she did speak, she never raised her head to look at us.

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