Hush (45 page)

―You think I‘m an opportunist, benefiting from Annette‘s death. Like I‘ve been waiting and waiting for this job!‖

―But you work at a title company. I thought you liked it there.‖

―I‘m barely hanging on to my job,‖ Faith stated flatly. ―I know you‘re the wunderkind at your office, and all that, but this economy has shredded the real estate market, and guess what, they just don‘t need many of us anymore. I‘ve had seniority, but the company‘s struggling. It‘s just a matter of time before we‘re all out of a job. So, yeah, I asked for the manager‘s position and Jean-Claude and Dad were only too happy to hire me.‖

―Okay . . .‖ Coby tried hard not to think about Faith‘s white BMW.
The shape of the
taillights doesn’t match
, she reminded herself.
People don’t
kill
other people over a job
. . . .

―Stop being so tense. The police will figure out who murdered Annette and it won‘t be Mom or Dad, because they didn‘t do it. I‘ve got to go.‖ She gave Coby a quick hug and then hurried across the street to the parking lot.

Coby stayed on the hotel‘s front steps and watched as Faith backed out of a spot. The taillight shape
was
all wrong, she thought with relief. It wasn‘t Faith who‘d run her down. Of course it wasn‘t Faith. Not Faith . . . not her sister . . .

She turned and pushed back through the doors to the Lovejoy‘s lobby. No one was visible at the counter now. Dave and Jean-Claude had clearly gone back to their inner sanctum, so she crossed to the tearoom, pausing at the wide aperture that could be closed off with sliding doors for privacy.

There were several guests seated at tables having coffee or tea and reading the paper. The teapots were wrapped in calico tea cozies, and baskets of scones, covered in matching patterned cloths, were placed in the centers of the tables. Suzette, in a conservative black dres s with a white apron and sensible shoes, was wiping off a tabletop, clearing plates and yawning.

―Coby,‖ she said, seeing her approach. She straightened and looked beyond her as if expecting someone else. ―Where‘s Danner?‖

―Probably off working.‖

She gave her a knowing look. ―Oh, come on. You didn‘t spend the night together last night?‖

Sidestepping, Coby said, ―I just ran into Faith.‖

―Faith.‖ Suzette‘s dark eyes flashed and her expression grew hard. No more sweetness and light. ―You heard about her taking the manager job? Nobody even asked me or Juliet if we wanted it!‖

This wasn‘t a subject Coby wanted to talk about either. ―What time does Juliet come to work?‖

―This afternoon. We usually wrap up the tearoom by three and start serving wine around four. She should be here then. What do you think about Faith coming to work here?‖

―Well . . .‖ Coby‘s cell buzzed at that moment and she excused herself, glad for the distraction. She walked back into the hotel lobby and examined the number on her screen. It was from her caller list: Joe. Why was he calling her on a Sunday? ―Joe?‖ she answered cautiously.

―I‘m going to give your dad a call. Do you have his cell number? I‘ve got the Lovejoy‘s number, but I wanted to call him personally.‖

Oh, that’s right
. She‘d suggested her father as one of Joe‘s clients, more to needle him than because she‘d really wanted him to take her father‘s case. Joe sounded businesslike to the extreme.

―Sure.‖ Coby gave him the number, then, remembering their last conversation, added, ―Jarvis Lloyd‘s suicide was certainly a surprise.‖

―Harassment by the police. Pure harassment.‖

―More like a guilty conscience, I‘d say.‖

―If it weren‘t for the police, Lloyd would still be alive.‖

―Oh, Joe, for God‘s sake. Don‘t play that game with me.‖

―Your boyfriend‘s right on the front lines, Coby!‖

―Bullshit. You‘re just pissed ‘cause you lost a client. What are you doing, Joe? You‘re a damn good divorce lawyer, but when it comes to criminal law you get all competitive and it doesn‘t help anyone. Don‘t call my dad. He doesn‘t need your kind of representation.‖ She pressed the red button and dropped the phone into her purse, furious all over.

Everybody was pissing her off.

Danner failed at contacting Edward Gerald, though he learned Gerald worked at Pump Up, a small athletic club on the east side of the river, just inside the Gresham city limits. Danner gave the manager his number and was told by the very disinterested man that he would have Gerald call him.

Time would tell.

He glanced at his watch. It was afternoon, growing later by the minute. Almost as soon as he‘d left the station Metzger had called him. A tip had come in about Sheila. A gas station attendant along I-5 had seen her sketch on the news and was pretty sure he‘d filled her tank and that she‘d headed north. For a few minutes Danner and Elaine had discussed Sheila and where they thought she might be going, but there wasn‘t much more to say. It was depressing for both of them, in that

―maybe I could have done something different‖ way, though Danner, and most probably Metzger, too, definitely felt Lloyd had saved the state a lot of money by taking his own life.

He tried calling Yvette again, but she still wasn‘t picking up. Around four he decided to take a trip to her place of work, Xavier‘s, a restaurant with an active bar scene.

He walked into the place and noted the blood-red booths and dark hardwood floors and central bar. There were a few people sitting in the booths and a man in his sixties seated at the bar.

The bartender looked up when Danner approached. ―Can I get you something?‖

―I‘m looking for Yvette Deneuve. I understand she works here.‖ He held up his badge for the bartender to see, but it was the older man at the end of the bar who started making choking sounds.

―You, too? I‘ve been waiting for her to show up.‖

Danner turned toward the man, whose eyes were on his credentials, so Danner brought his badge over for the man to get a closer look. ―You‘re a cop,‖ the guy said. ―You think she tried to kill that politician, don‘t you? Ran him off the road.‖

Danner blinked. The older man was one step ahead of him in this conversation. ―I don‘t have any evidence of that,‖ he said cautiously.

―Yvette comes on at six,‖ the bartender put in. ―But she went home sick last night. The flu, she said.‖ He shrugged, clearly thinking it was a scam.

Danner asked, ―Has she called in today?‖

―Not yet. She‘d better damn well be here.‖

―I think I have your evidence,‖ the older gentleman said to Danner, who swung back to him.

He stuck out a hand, which Danner shook. ―Don Laidlaw. I left for Palm Springs yesterday and I‘m back today. My doctor doesn‘t like something he saw on some tests. Might have to have some surgery, so I had to come back. I have this garage with my cars. I‘m a collector. But I got some for just using, too. They‘re all in the garage.‖

Danner waited, and Laidlaw went on, ―One of ‘em‘s front end is smacked up bad. I fired the engine and it runs, so I guess she got lucky, but I know it was Yvette. She said she was gonna use my cars.‖

―When?‖

Laidlaw shrugged and Danner saw the bartender look over at him. More information there, Danner decided. But Laidlaw went on about how he and Yvette were friends, and he‘d offered up his house and cars, and she‘d been teasing, like she was going to use ‘em, but he hadn‘t believed her, but now . . .

―I‘d like to see the car,‖ Danner said, and without further ado Laidlaw slid off his stool, gave Danner directions, and said he‘d meet him there.

Danner turned to the bartender. ―You had something to add?‖

He lifted his chin in the direction of the departing man. ―Don‘s known around here as Don Juan. He likes younger women with a bad vibe.‖

―Like Yvette.‖

―Yup. She‘s been his favorite for a while, but she‘s only shown him some interest back just recently.‖

―Thanks.‖

Danner hurried after Laidlaw. He hadn‘t expected to solve the Sainer hit-and-run so easily.

But if what Laidlaw said was true, then Yvette had a lot of explaining to do, probably more than she would be able to handle.

Coby left Lovejoy‘s and drove aimlessly for a time. She felt frustrated, as if she just wasn‘t thinking hard enough about everything. As though if she put the pieces together in some new order they would suddenly make sense.

She returned to Lovejoy‘s around five and found Juliet in the tearoom/wine bar, in a tense discussion with Suzette. The guests who‘d been at the tearoom earlier had left and been replaced by several young couples who were drinking red wine from large goblets and nibbling on terrines of goat cheese, pesto and sun-dried tomatoes, bowls of olives, and an assortment of crisp, thin crackers.

Spying Coby the two sisters broke apart and both, independently, gazed at her mutinously.

―What did I do?‖ Coby asked with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

―What do you want now?‖ Suzette snapped out. ―Faith‘s your sister. Isn‘t that enough?‖

―You‘re trying to pin something on us,‖ Juliet added.

They were alike in coloring and size, small and dark, but Juliet‘s hair was a shade or two lighter, as was her skin tone. Coby suspected she looked a bit more like the Ettes‘ mother while her other sisters favored Jean-Claude. She wasn‘t going to like the questions Coby had for her.

―Do you mind if we talk?‖ Coby said to Juliet, implying she wanted to be alone with her, which caused Suzette to give her a wide-eyed look and Juliet to stare at her as if she were a poisonous snake.

―What about?‖ Juliet demanded.

―I spoke with Donald Greer last night at the hospital.‖

―Wynona
hates
Yvette,‖ Suzette jumped in. ―You can‘t listen to her. Her dad‘s just the same.‖

But Juliet‘s eyes had dilated; she knew where Coby was heading. To Suzette, she said,

―Give me a minute.‖ When her sister started to protest, Juliet said through her teeth, ―I‘ll be right back! Stop being such a bitch!‖

―Jesus . . .‖ Suzette muttered, stalking away.

Juliet wore a black tunic over black leggings and black boots. She guided Coby to the side of the hotel lobby, near several wingback chairs in an alcove, and crossed her arms. ―So?‖

―Donald told me he caught you putting the notes in the lockers. He just recently revealed what you‘d done to Wynona and, kind of like Annette, I guess, Wynona doesn‘t want any more secrets.‖ Juliet didn‘t say anything immediately, just glared down at the floor, and Coby added,

―You blamed it on Vic Franzen. Even last night you acted like you‘d seen him at the lockers, slipping a note inside. You‘ve never let him off the hook.‖

―Vic‘s an ass. He deserves it,‖ she said, shooting Coby a cool look. ―They all do.‖

―Who?‖

―The guys. All this time I thought they cared about me. None of them ever have. Even Kirk,‖ she said bitterly.

―But this note thing, Juliet. It had a life of its own.‖

―Oh, who cares. It was just a prank. Even Mr. Greer saw that, although everybody just keeps talking and talking and talking about it. I don‘t care. I just don‘t fucking care.‖

―Did you know Hank was Benedict‘s father?‖

―You mean before the party? Did you think you were the only one Annette wanted to tell secrets to? We all figured it out.‖

―You all?‖

―Me and my sisters. The Ettes,‖ she said with a trace of sarcasm. ―Yvette was seventeen and Mr. Sainer was too old for her and he had a career that their affair would ruin. Yvette was stupid about him. Still is,‖ she added as an afterthought. ―You think she killed Annette, don‘t you?‖

―Not necessarily. If you and your sisters knew about Hank Sainer being Benedict‘s father, I don‘t see the why in that. I mean, why? Why would Yvette murder Annette? Her own sister.‖

―We only found out in the last few weeks,‖ Juliet defended. ―After Annette started talking about it. We didn‘t know before.‖

―Still . . . the word was out by the time of the birthday party.‖

Juliet seemed to want to argue that point, but she‘d already said differently. ―Well, Yvette‘s not right,‖ she finally announced. ―Nobody in the family wants to talk about it, but it‘s the truth.‖

―So,
you
think she did it,‖ Coby said.

Juliet‘s hands fluttered with stress. ―I don‘t know. Sometimes I think it might be someone else.‖

―Like?‖

―I don‘t know. Okay? I don‘t know. But there was an incident here, just before the party, that upset Annette.‖

Coby remembered her father saying something about Annette being bothered over something that happened at Lovejoy‘s. ―You know what it was?‖

Juliet threw a look over her shoulder toward the tearoom/wine bar. ―It‘s no secret that Suzette wanted Annette‘s job. Me, I really don‘t care. I don‘t care if I ever work another day here.

But Suzette sort of tried to get Annette fired. Annette caught her at it just before the party.‖

Coby absorbed this. She hadn‘t seen any overt tension between Annette and Suzette that night. As if reading her mind, Juliet said, ―Oh, Suzette squeezed her way out of it, just like she always does. But ask her about it. She and Annette made up, but it wasn‘t going to last.‖

―Are you suggesting that Suzette killed Annette?‖

―I‘m just saying that Yvette‘s unstable and probably killed her, but Suzette had problems with her, too!‖ Abruptly, she added, ―I don‘t want to explain anything to you anymore. Where do you get off acting like you‘re above us?‖ With that, she stalked back toward the wine bar.

Coby was rolling all that over, getting ready to leave, when Suzette came hurrying toward her. She braced herself for what was undoubtedly going to be round two.

―You really pissed Juliet off,‖ Suzette stated flatly.

―Did she tell you why?‖

―No, but I can guess. She‘s pissed because she slept with them all—all the guys in the group—even though she thinks some of them are beneath her, like Vic, for sure, and Paul, and maybe even Theo. Galen did
not
sleep with her.‖

―She slept with Theo?‖

―Girl, everybody slept with Theo Rivers. Ellen‘s just one of ‘em. And maybe he‘s changed his ways now, but there was a time when he was as much a man-slut as Lucas was, maybe even more.‖