The dressing rooms of the Hillman Center were far from deluxe. They were a series of small, dreary cubicles off a dingy corridor furnished with folding chairs, a mirror, a comb, a brush and a hairdryer. The dressing area was filled with people milling around, joking, eating and drinking. The place was littered with empty soda cans, half-drunk bottles of bourbon and bags of pork rinds.
Walker Henley seemed unfazed by the second-rate accommodations. He invited Dory and Alex into the tiny room and offered them a folding chair. He sat facing a mirror as a girl with multiple piercings and tattoos came into the room with a tool kit full of make-up.
‘Better take your hat off,’ she said.
Walker did as he was told and, while he faced the mirror, the girl stood beside him and began to daub on make-up. Alex examined his face in the mirror. He was about thirty-five and a good-looking guy in a very clean cut, conservative way. He caught Alex studying him and winked at her.
‘Don’t blink,’ said the make-up girl.
‘Sorry. So,’ Walker said, ‘what’s the relationship between you two gals?’
‘We’re half-sisters,’ said Alex.
‘Dory, I knew about you, of course. Because of my . . . friendship with Lauren, I paid a lot of attention to the case. I guess it turned out you did some time for a crime you didn’t commit.’
‘That’s right,’ said Dory.
‘That’s a sin,’ said Walker.
Alex said nothing.
‘Well, what is it you want from me?’ Walker asked.
‘Um . . .’ Dory looked impatiently at Alex. ‘Tell him.’
Alex hoped her voice wasn’t shaky. She was still processing that phone call from Seth which had, undeniably, distracted her from her mission. Dory frowned at her, puzzled by her lassitude. They had barged in on Walker Henley, and they owed him an explanation. Alex forced herself to speak. ‘Once we . . . once the charges were dropped against Dory, I started wondering if maybe Lauren’s killer wasn’t from Boston after all. If maybe it was somebody she knew in the country music world. From Branson. Or Nashville.’
‘Don’t look at me,’ said Walker indignantly. ‘I was on tour out west when she was killed.’
‘Oh, no, I didn’t mean you,’ Alex said.
‘I remember when it happened. Our manager called me to tell me. I was stunned.’
‘Were you two . . . dating then?’ Alex asked carefully.
‘No, we’d broken up a few months earlier. But I still cared about Lauren.’
Alex nodded. ‘You said “our manager.” Did you and Lauren have the same one?’
‘We did,’ he said. ‘That’s how we met. Cilla Zander from TAI in Nashville represents us both. She introduced us. When she started out Lauren’s mother used to be her manager, but Lauren had to replace her with a pro.’
Alex looked at Dory. ‘Did you know that?’
Dory shrugged. ‘She was always busy with Lauren’s career. That was all she cared about.’
The make-up artist finished her work and patted Walker on the shoulder. ‘You can put your hat back on now.’
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said politely. ‘Close that door on your way out, would ya? They’re raising hell out there,’ he said cheerfully.
The girl closed the door and Walker turned his attention back to Alex and Dory. ‘So, what was your question again?’
Alex thought about it for a moment. ‘You and Lauren were engaged at one time, weren’t you?’
A pained look flitted over his even features. ‘Well, you know the press. They always exaggerate.’
‘You weren’t?’ asked Alex.
Walker shrugged. ‘We dated. Let’s just say that. She was always nice and fun to be with, but I don’t believe I ever really won her heart. All that girl cared about was her career. In the end I think she did me a favor by being honest.’
‘About what?’ Alex asked.
‘Well, about her ambition. She told me that she’d never love any man the way she loved her music. I think that was probably true.’
‘So you never thought it was another man, or something like that,’ said Alex.
Walker considered this a minute. Then he shook his head. ‘No. Look, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but your sister was a bit . . . cold. I mean, she just never could . . . let herself go. You know what I mean?’
Dory nodded solemnly.
‘I was lucky she called it off. I met the right gal last year. We’re getting married next summer.’
‘Congratulations,’ said Dory. ‘You were lucky to get away from Lauren.’
Walker frowned and Alex quickly changed the subject. ‘Was there anyone you remember that Lauren was close to?’ she asked. ‘Anyone else we could talk to about her?’
‘Besides her mama?’ he asked.
‘Any friends? Other . . . relationships? Band members, maybe?’
Walker frowned. ‘No. She had no loyalty to the musicians who worked for her. She was always happy to use a house band or a pick-up band. She said to me once, “It’s me they come to hear, not the band.”’
‘That sounds like her,’ said Dory.
‘What about when she was home? In Branson?’
Walker stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his hands behind his head. ‘That was the sad thing. She spent all her time working. She had a nice house out in Branson, but other than the gardener and the housekeeper, she lived alone and kept to herself.’
‘What about them?’ Alex asked. ‘The gardener and the housekeeper? They might know of someone.’
‘It’s not like we were talking about two particular people. Even they were temporary. They were always quitting on her or getting fired. No one ever lasted long with Lauren.’
The door to the dressing room opened. ‘Walker. Fifteen minutes,’ said a young man wearing a leather jacket and a headset.
‘Ladies, you will have to excuse me,’ said Walker Henley, standing up.
‘Thank you so much for talking to us,’ said Alex.
Walker Henley smiled. ‘Enjoy the show.’
They stayed through Walker’s set and then headed out to the car. Alex was tired, and it had been a long day. She navigated as they retraced their route and got onto I-95, heading back to Boston.
They rode along in silence for a while. Then Dory sighed. ‘That was a waste of time.’
‘He wasn’t a lot of help,’ Alex admitted. ‘Nice guy though.’
‘Too nice for my sister,’ said Dory.
‘I guess we could follow up on this manager, Cilla Zander. Did you ever meet her?’
‘No, but I heard about her. My mom was pissed that she took over Lauren’s career. But Lauren was moving to Branson, and my dad wouldn’t go.’
‘Your mother wanted him to?’
‘Of course,’ said Dory. ‘That was all she cared about.’
‘Do you remember when Lauren was dating Walker?’
‘She brought him home at one point.’
‘I guess at that time your mother didn’t know that Lauren was gay.’
‘Apparently not. She was planning the wedding,’ said Dory ruefully.
‘I guess she did it for appearances,’ Alex observed. ‘It’s a high price to pay for success. Living a lie.’
Dory threw her an angry glance. ‘Nobody made her do it.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Alex asked. ‘It sounds like your mother was pretty heavily invested in Lauren’s career. She was willing to move to Branson, for heaven’s sake.’
‘Are you kidding? Lauren was a hog for the spotlight. Pulling out that goddam guitar everywhere. “Do you want to hear ma new song?”’ Dory imitated her sister in a sing-song drawl.
‘Did she have a Southern accent?’ Alex asked.
‘She . . . acquired one,’ said Dory bitterly. ‘Whatever she had to do.’
Alex was quiet for a moment. ‘Was there anything about her that you liked?’
‘No,’ said Dory.
Alex thought about the song she had listened to, ‘Love You Only’, and the picture it painted of a woman trying in vain to please her mother, her fans and all the strangers around her. A woman whom no one really knew.
‘You think I’m terrible, don’t you?’ Dory asked. ‘You’re thinking how you’d be a much better sister than me.’
‘No, I’m not,’ said Alex, suddenly weary of Dory’s automatic habit of taking offense.
‘You probably think I was crazy, accusing her of trying to steal Rick Howland away from me. Why would she do that if she was gay? I’ll tell you why. Just for the pure meanness of it. She didn’t care who she hurt. Look at that Walker guy. He was thinking about marrying her, and she was just using him to make it seem like she went with men.’
Alex felt a headache forming as Dory drove along in the dark, ranting. Suddenly her phone rang.
‘Who’s that? Seth again?’ Dory asked sarcastically. ‘Must be nice to be so in demand.’
Alex frowned when she saw the caller ID. It was Detective Langford of the Boston police. She hit the button and answered the phone.
‘Ms Woods,’ he said. ‘How you doing?’
‘Much better,’ said Alex. ‘I’m doing fine.’
‘I just wanted to call you,’ he said, ‘because we got the lab tests back on that piece of liver we found at your house.’
‘Oh?’ said Alex, wondering why he would call her with that.
‘I thought you should know. That wasn’t poison on the liver. It was a sedative. A mild sedative for dogs.’
Alex felt a sickening flip in her stomach. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘You ought to be aware that your assailant, whoever he or . . . she might be, had no intention of poisoning that dog. Only wanted him to take a short nap so she . . . or he . . . could carry out their plan.’
Alex understood exactly what he was saying. She did not reply.
‘Based on these test results and, in the interests of our own investigation, we have decided to get a search warrant for the Colsons’ apartment in Boston. We feel that we need to go over that place again.’
‘I see,’ said Alex.
Dory was looking at her suspiciously.
‘You be on your guard, Ms Woods,’ said the detective.