In the Worst Way (Mercy Watts Mysteries Book 5) (46 page)

Uncle Morty rolled on his side. “There ain’t nothing on that in his file. He’d tell us if it was a problem.”
 

“Would he?” I asked. “Or would he try to gut through it.”
 

“How’s he gutting through then?”

“He got all sweaty when he first saw Cherie in the Love Garden and he passed out when Dr. Watts showed him the body during autopsy.”
 

“That ain’t good. What’d he say about it?”

“I didn’t ask. He’s been through a lot and he’s trying. I’m just saying we’ve got to be careful. I want you to call him off me. The case and the diet are too much for now. I’ll keep Pick with me. I’m good.”
 

“The damn dog? Screw that. Tiny can kill people with his thumbs.”
 

“I’ll keep John or Leslie with me. Happy?”

“The innkeepers?” His eyes went back to the screen. “Yeah, they’re pretty tough.”
 

I went for the door. “I know you think I’m an idiot, but Dad sent me here for a reason and it’s them.”
 

Uncle Morty wouldn’t look up. “Could be.” His voice got cagey. “So you got an idea about them?”
 

“Well, they aren’t former cops and if they were friends I would’ve heard about them before now.”
 

“Yeah.”
 

“They’re using assumed names,” I said.
 

Uncle Morty’s head jerked up. “How do you know that?”
 

I shrugged. “The backgrounds you gave me. They’re very neat and tidy. You might’ve composed them for all I know.”
 

“I don’t compose nothing but books,” he said.
 

“Well, someone did a great job.”
 

“How’d you know the names are fake?”
 

“Because I know Leslie’s real name.”
 

He frowned and I knew from that look that Uncle Morty didn’t know it. It was nice to be the one who knew something he didn’t for a change. “What is it?” he asked.
 

“Shaun Simmons.”

Shaun Simmons aka Leslie stood at the bottom of the stairs looking like a Ralph Lauren commercial, the kind they put in front of
Downton Abbey.
Pick wasn’t impressed. He chased his tail and then started biting the air.
 

“Your bodyguard is sick,” he said. “And the other one is…dizzy.”

“I know. Where’s Tiny?”
 

“The yoga room. We rolled him in there.”
 

“You rolled him. Seriously?” I asked.
 

“There aren’t enough people in the castle to pick him up.”
 

“Good point. Are the suspects assembled?”
 

Leslie checked his watch. “Should be. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Little bit. Usually, I have to chase people down in a bikini and have lewd pictures taken of me and put on the internet. This is much better. Quiet library. Ooh. We should serve wine. Can we serve wine?”
 

“Champagne?”

“That might be going a little too far.”
 

Leslie laughed and texted someone. “I’m surprised anything is too far for you.”
 

I smiled and looked down at my breasts in the mother of all push-up bras. “You know what, me too.”
 

He shook his head and went for the hall, I assumed the one that led to the library, but I couldn’t follow. I had to say it. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You’re Shaun. You were on the bridge with Cherie when Nicole’s brother died.”
 

Pick barked in agreement and started trying to dig a hole in the carpet. Leslie watched him for a moment and put his hand on the ornate trim of the arched doorway. He said nothing, but I could see his breathing. His vest strained with each intake, a controlled panic.

“It’s why you brought them here and comped it for Cherie. What did you think was going to happen?” I asked.
 

He held up a finger and then moved to the right, stopping beside the third panel of
The Lady and the Unicorn
. He felt under the tapestry and there was a loud click. The tapestry swung out as the wall opened, revealing a dimly lit passage. Leslie stepped back and took off his glasses. Once you knew who he was, it was obvious. All the showiness was to distract and it did its job well. “This is how John and I get around the castle so quickly.”
 

I did love a good secret passage, but this felt a whole lot like when I isolated myself at a funeral home with a murderer on the prowl. Mom never let me live that one down. This time there were several killers on the loose in the castle and Leslie was probably one of them.
 

“I can’t go in there with you,” I said.
 

“Tell your father where you’re going if you’re worried. I won’t harm you. But if you don’t go in, I’ll never speak to you about this again.”
 

He meant it and, honestly, I wanted to go. Maybe it was his level gaze. Maybe it’s because I’m nosy like my mother. Or maybe I just couldn’t help doing the wrong thing, the exact thing Dad warned me about. Like drinking and being in backseats with boys. I had to do it.
 

Now I wasn’t a total idiot, despite my family’s assertions. I texted Dad and Chuck so, at least, they’d know where to look for the body. Then I stepped inside, tugging Pick in with me. The dog wasn’t thrilled with the idea. He tucked his tail and whimpered.

“Some bodyguard you are.”
 

Bark.
 

“Whatever. Come on.”
 

Leslie closed the panel and I had a mini panic attack. The passage was smaller when you were inside it and I’d never been so close to Leslie. He smelled like expensive cologne and saddle soap. It was a nice combo.
 

“How did you know?” he asked.
 

“I saw the pictures of you, Cherie, Carl, and Quinn in the St. Seb Herald.”
 

He leaned against the wall. “You recognized me. You’re the first. Cherie and Nicole didn’t. What do you want to know? I didn’t kill Cherie if that’s what you’re thinking.”
 

I looked at him and knew he concealed much but killing Cherie? No. He was much too smart for that. He wouldn’t bring her onto his own turf and kill her. Above all, Leslie wanted to remain concealed. Killing people on his property was the worst way to do that.

“I don’t think you did, not that you couldn’t kill people. I’m sure you could, that you have, just not Cherie.”
 

He smiled down at me. “You’re sure.”
 

“Yep. I can tell.”
 

“Tommy said it was obvious that you’re his daughter. He was right.”
 

“Don’t tell him that.”
 

“I won’t. I know him, too, remember?” Leslie walked away down the passage and took several turns with me in tow. I don’t know how long we walked. It probably felt longer than it actually was.

“Are you going to talk to me?” I asked.
 

He stopped and pointed to several tiny beams of light jutting in from the left side of the passage. “That’s the library where they’re waiting for you. Are you sure you want to delay? It’s not important to the task I set you to.”
 

“I want to know for me. I won’t tell anyone ever. I’m Tommy’s kid. I can keep a secret.”
 

“Very well then. Ask away.”
 

“Did you hate Cherie? Did you blame her like Nicole did?”
 

He turned away and I thought he wouldn’t tell me. I thought that after so many years of hiding and lying he wouldn’t be capable of revealing anything, but I was wrong.
 

Leslie turned back to me. “I didn’t hate her. Of course, I didn’t hate her. She blamed herself. She brought the bottle. But I was there and it wasn’t her fault.”
 

“Because Quinn wanted to drink the vodka?”
 

“Yes, but Cherie bought it for me and I gave it to him, even though I knew he had a problem. Quinn was a drinker from early on. I met him when we were twelve. He was already sneaking his father’s Scotch. He’d had a few that day before we left school. He had a little silver flask he kept in his backpack. Quinn was my pitcher. We were a team. He asked me for the vodka and I gave it to him. I couldn’t say no. It was my fault, not Cherie’s.”

“You didn’t say that to the police.”
 

“I tried to, but no one wanted to hear it. I thought Quinn’s family knew. I’d had dinner with them when he was hammered. I thought they were putting up a front.”
 

“But they really didn’t know?”
 

“Apparently, not. He was the star of the family. I guess they saw what they wanted to see. They couldn’t hear what I said about Quinn. It hurt them and I shut up. I didn’t think they’d blame Cherie.”
 

“But why didn’t you tell the cops after they did?”
 

“Pure selfishness. Cherie blamed herself for buying it and she said it didn’t matter what they said about her anyway. I had a scholarship to lose. I didn’t want to ruin my life by stepping up. My parents put so much into my career, but then I ruined it anyway. Cherie didn’t have any of that to deal with. She was generous. I was a shit.
 

“Why did you bring Nicole and Cherie together this weekend? How was that supposed to go well?”
 

He ran a manicured hand over his face. “It was so long ago. I thought…I thought we could talk about it.”
 

“You were going to tell them who you are?” I asked.
 

He laughed. “No. I can’t. There are legal issues. I was going to say I was a friend of Shaun’s in the Army and that he told me about what happened on the bridge. I was going to say that I wanted to make it right for him. I thought they could finally let Quinn go.”
 

“But you didn’t tell them,” I said.
 

“I saw that memorial to Quinn on the back of Nicole’s van and I knew it wasn’t so long ago for her. I hesitated and then it was too late.”

Raised voices came through the panel, angry voices asking to leave.
 

“The natives are getting restless,” said Leslie. “Do you have a plan?”
 

“Sort of. Whatever I say, just go with it?” I went for the panel and Leslie grabbed my arm, squeezing but not hurting me.
 

“I want this finished, but you can’t use me. I’m not Shaun.”
 

I patted his hand. “I know. Even if I wanted to out you, I couldn’t prove it.”
 

“No, you couldn’t.” Leslie pulled me to him and went in for a kiss. Pick growled and snapped at him and Leslie let go.

“What the hell?” I asked.
 

Leslie smiled wanly and cleaned his glasses. “I wanted to see what it would be like, but your poodle isn’t keen on the idea.”
 

“Kissing me isn’t any different. I’m just regular. Don’t let this face fool you. I’m not some sexpot.”
 

“I didn’t think you were. I wanted to kiss someone who knows my name.”
 

I couldn’t say anything for a minute. What would it be like to hide for over twenty years? I couldn’t imagine.
 

“Don’t mention this to Tommy. He won’t take it well,” he said.

“No problem.” Then I kissed him. Not a big one. Just a soft kiss on the lips. I don’t know what made me do it or why Pick didn’t growl. Maybe he knew I wasn’t serious or maybe the spot he was licking on his paw was too distracting. Either way, the kiss only lasted a second and then I stepped back. “Well?”
 

He chuckled and put his glasses back on, becoming Leslie once more. “Other than the fact that you have lovely lips, it was the same.”
 

“You’re Leslie now. Shaun’s gone.”