Warren Marsh lived in an apartment complex on the west side of town not far from Brandy’s house. The complex needed a facelift. The buildings were old, and the paint was an odd color. Nothing looked out of code, but it wasn’t the greatest place to live. The parking lot was torn up so maybe the management was working on sprucing up the place.
In the meantime, residents were parking along the street. Since it was Sunday, there were a lot of cars lining the curb. There wasn’t a spot along the street in front of the complex so I turned onto a side road only to find cars parked there as well. About five cars down, there was an opening, but when I reached it, I discovered it was a fire zone.
With a sigh, I continued to the next block. There were no buildings on either side of the street. The lot was covered with tall grass and several trees which provided some shade. No one was around, and I didn’t see any restrictions so I parked the car and got out.
I had planned to take Harry home before meeting Warren, but after Trent’s revelation that Ricky had been paid to follow me, I changed my mind. I hadn’t thought about being in danger, but I needed to remember someone out there was a murderer.
In February, Harry had bitten Leon when he broke into my apartment. He would protect me if he sensed I was being threatened. I also had my Glock as backup. It was reassuring to have it with me. People were surprised when they learned I not only knew how to shoot, but I was a crack shot. Having spent years training, I wasn’t worried about hitting my target. As a final precaution, I sent a text to Olivia letting her know where I was. I couched it in a simple update so she wouldn’t become alarmed and race to my rescue.
Harry and I walked down the street and around the corner to the complex entrance. Warren’s apartment was near the front, and it didn’t take long to find it. He must have been waiting for me because the door opened before I finished knocking. Warren was a good-looking man although he wasn’t handsome like Marcus or Trent and didn’t have the presence that Griggs did. His features were soft but pleasant, and his body was lanky and toned. He looked like a lot of other guys running around town.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Leah Norwood.”
He offered me his hand. He didn’t smile. “Warren Marsh.”
“Nice to meet you. Sorry about the dog.” I pointed to Harry. “We can talk outside if you want.”
“No. It’s fine. I like dogs. Come on in.”
Harry and I stepped across the threshold and directly into the living room. There was a sturdy looking couch on one wall with a matching chair in the corner. A big screen television hung on the wall across from the couch. To the right of the living room was a kitchen with a small dining table and to the left was a hallway that I assumed led to the bedrooms.
A man was sitting on the couch, watching a baseball game. He reached for the remote and turned the television off before standing. He gave me a quick smile. I recognized his face from the pictures on Brandy’s social media feed.
“This is Curtis Wood,” Warren confirmed. “My roommate.”
I hadn’t realized Warren didn’t live alone. He was in his mid-thirties, a few years younger than Brandy. I hadn’t been able to find any address for Warren online. It could be he was just very careful, but I was betting it was Curtis’s name on the lease.
“Can I get you anything?” Warren asked. His tone was even and polite but with a hint of anger running through it.
“No. Thanks. I just had brunch at The Lake House.”
“I love that place,” Curtis said.
“Me too.” I gave him a nod and turned to Warren. “Thanks for meeting me. I wanted to talk to you about Brandy.”
“No problem.” Same tone, same inflection. “Have a seat.”
I sat on one end of the couch, Warren on the other, and Curtis took the chair. Harry sat politely at my feet. It was awkward and uncomfortable.
“I don’t know what I can tell you,” Warren said. “I’ve already spoken with the police.”
“I understand. I guess I want to know a little more about her. Her personality. Likes, dislikes. Things like that.”
He studied me a moment. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for a way to get Cantono off the hook?”
Unlike Glen, Warren’s anger was somewhat hidden. I could see it in his eyes, but his face was devoid of emotion. He must have been one hell of a poker player.
“I don’t believe Marcus had anything to do with Brandy’s murder.”
He laughed harshly. “Of course you don’t. The two of you are tight.”
My relationship with Marcus was well-known among my friends and business acquaintances, but I didn’t know Warren, Curtis, or any other of the people involved in Brandy’s life. I hadn’t even known Brandy. It surprised me Warren knew enough about me to know I was friends with Marcus.
“You don’t have to talk to me.”
“Oh, I want to talk to you,” he snarled, suddenly jumping to his feet, his anger no longer hidden. “I want to know what you’ve learned. I want to know why Marcus Cantono was cheating on her. I want to know why he isn’t rotting in jail when all the evidence points to him!”
He was practically spitting by the time he finished speaking. Harry sat up and growled. I rose slowly and eased toward the door.
“I want to know why Brandy is dead!” he yelled.
Wild eyes turned to me. His face was red, his hands opening and closing into fists as sweat formed on his brow, and a vein throbbed at his temple. His was breathing heavily. I stopped, unsure if I should flee or hide.
“Warren,” Curtis said softly.
The man froze. Warren’s eyes closed, and he took several deep, gulping breaths. His whole body was clenched and shaking with anger. I slipped my hand into my purse and rested it on my gun. It took time, but he finally controlled himself. When his eyes opened, they were filled with so much pain I almost gasped.
“I just want to know why she’s dead,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes.
He had been in love with her. The pain and grief were evident on his face. Like Robert, Warren was devastated by Brandy’s death. Unlike Robert, Warren’s grief was wrapped in rage. I didn’t know which was worse. Rage or regret. Both were heartbreaking.
“Then let me tell you what I know,” I said gently.
He took another deep breath, unclenched his hands, and sank back down onto the couch, burying his head in his hands. I touched Harry lightly on the head and returned to my seat. I gave Warren another minute. He raised his head, took a drink of water from a bottle on the table, and nodded in my direction.
“We’ll probably not agree about Marcus, but this is what I know.”
Without betraying any confidences, I told them what I could. I didn’t give them Robert’s name. He had been at the police station so it wouldn’t be long before that gossip made the rounds, but I wasn’t going to be the one to start it. I didn’t mention the baby. Warren was volatile. I didn’t want to stir him up again.
After I finished, no one said anything for a few minutes. Warren was staring out a window. Curtis was leaning forward in the chair studying the carpet. He glanced at Warren then looked over at me.
“Then it wasn’t Cantono,” he said.
“Umm. I agree, but why do you say that?”
Warren rested his head on the couch and closed his eyes again. “Because Brandy would never cheat.”
I must have looked perplexed because Curtis explained.
“Brandy’s mother cheated on her father. A lot. She hated it. Hated her. Brandy was a flirt. She dated a lot of guys but always, only one guy at a time. If you have someone who admits to being with her, then she wasn’t also seeing Cantono. Not unless the other person is lying.”
“He isn’t. There are others who back his story.”
Curtis nodded. Warren was completely still. We sat there in silence for a moment. He finally raised his head and opened his eyes. The anger was still there, but the grief was in the forefront.
“I wanted it to be Cantono.”
“Why?”
“He was her ideal man. She was always talking about how handsome he was, how successful, how he had made something of himself. The rest of us couldn’t compete. She wanted someone who could take care of her.” He stopped, looked around the apartment and over at his friend. “Hell. I can’t even take care of myself. She broke up with me when I lost my last job and had to move in here with Curtis.”
“So she was looking for a free ride?”
“No!” he said sharply. Curtis, too, was shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. She would work. Wanted to work, but she wanted stability. She wanted someone solid, you know?”
Robert Davis was exactly what Brandy wanted. I couldn’t think of anything else to ask them. All I had wanted to know was if Warren could have killed her. Unless he was the best actor I ever saw, I had my answer. I thanked them for their time and headed to the door.
“The man she was seeing,” Warren said softly from behind. “Did he do it? Did he kill her?”
I turned around. He was standing, watching me. I shook my head. “No. He loved her.”
I opened the door and walked out, closing it quietly behind me trying to shut out the grief. This case was getting to me. When I was looking into Isabel’s murder, no one had liked her. I didn’t have to deal with their pain. It was the same with Donnie. No one in Reed Hill knew him. It was easier to talk to people who weren’t emotionally involved with the deceased. Brandy was different. People had loved her. My heart hurt for them.
Harry and I walked back out of the complex and down the street. My thoughts were so jumbled that I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until I reached my car. It was covered with graffiti. Most of it was wavy lines and circles, but there were one or two choice words. All four tires had been slashed, and one of the windows was cracked. Someone had taken their anger out on my poor car.
Defeated, I sat down on the curb, buried my head in my arms, and cried. I was really tired of dealing with angry people. My head ached. The stitches along my hairline itched, and I was physically and emotionally drained. I no longer remembered why it was so important for me to find Brandy’s killer. Marcus didn’t need my help. He had one of the best defense attorneys in the state. Griggs admitted he didn’t believe Marcus was guilty. No matter how he felt about me now, he wouldn’t put an innocent man behind bars. I was putting myself in danger simply because I was curious and stubborn, but I was done.
Harry leaned against my leg and licked my arm. I raised my head. He looked at me so adoringly I had to smile. I kissed him on the nose. Wiping the tears from my face, I reached for my phone and called the police, a tow truck, and Myra. The tow truck was for the car, and Myra was for me. Gabe and Olivia would learn about the incident soon enough, but I just couldn’t deal with their worry. Myra would come pick me up no questions asked.
A patrol car arrived with a couple of officers I didn’t know. They introduced themselves as Officers Campbell and Pittman. After I explained what had happened, they decided it was related to Marcus’s case and called it in. I wasn’t looking forward to speaking with Luke Snyder again, but I agreed with their assessment.
“The paint color’s the same as what was used on Bella’s,” Snyder said when he and Keith Cisneros arrived. “Vandalizing your own car now?”
“No,” I replied calmly. I wasn’t going to get into a pissing match with him.
He looked at me a moment and snorted. Keith took pictures of the vehicle, and Snyder asked me a couple of questions. He didn’t want to help, but he did his job. He recorded my statement and sent the other officers to Warren’s apartment complex to ask if anyone saw anything. There wasn’t much they could do, but I needed the report for my insurance.
“It’s different,” Keith said.
“What?” Snyder and I asked at the same time.
“The handwriting,” Keith replied. “It’s different from Bella’s.”
“It’s paint,” Snyder snipped. “You don’t analyze handwriting on spray paint.”
“Look.” He pulled up a picture on his phone. I leaned over his shoulder and saw a door with ‘Bella’s Sucks’ on it. “This is the back door at Bella’s. See this letter here, how the bottom of the B curves down. It’s the same every time.”
He showed us a couple of more pictures, including one from the construction site in McKinney.
“How did you get that?” Snyder asked.
Keith ignored him and pointed at my car. “Now look at the B on Leah’s car. It doesn’t curve.”
“Kid,” Snyder said with a harsh laugh. “It’s spray paint.”
I studied the car. If Keith was correct, who had vandalized my car? I had assumed it was the saboteur, but I was looking for a murderer. This was another indication they weren’t the same person.
“You think they’re trying to make it look like it was the same culprit?” I asked Keith.
He nodded. Snyder sneered.
“We have your report,” he said to me. “We’ll file it and let you know if anything develops.”
He walked toward his car before turning back to us. “Cisneros, you coming?”
Keith shook his head. “I’ll catch a ride back with Campbell and Pittman.”
“Suit yourself.”
Snyder got in the car and drove away. I turned to Keith. He was watching the car. When he saw me looking, he gave me a quick smile.
“Not very smart, antagonizing your partner,” I said.
“I’m thinking about requesting a new partner,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, he goes off on his own all the time. I’m going to work with the other guys on canvassing the complex. You okay here? Need a ride home?”
“No, thanks. I have to wait for the tow truck, and then Myra is coming to pick me up.”
It took almost two hours for the tow truck to arrive. I rescued the lovage from the back seat and sent Myra a text while they hooked up my car. Myra arrived twenty minutes later and dropped us off at my apartment. I had less than forty minutes to wrap a plant, shower, dress, and drive across town to Bella’s. I was going to be late.