Frustration often drove Dave to eat. After he’d left his house this morning, his frustration had begun building when his plans for the day were derailed by a welfare check. The dispatcher informed him that an elderly man up near Chipping Lake hadn’t answered his phone in days. He found the guy sunning himself in a hammock. When Dave asked him why he didn’t answer his calls, the man told him he’d unplugged the phone. Nobody he actually wanted to talk to ever called him, so what was the point? Dave ordered him to plug the damn phone back in and answer his damn calls.
His next stop was Sarah Mickler. Since Monty had said Sarah was a friend of Carli Gilbert’s, Dave wanted to get her take on what had happened in Carli’s marriage. The theory he was working was that her husband had probably done it, either out of jealousy, rage, or something related to money. He’d have to check on any insurance policies issued on Carli’s life. It still galled him that the chief had taken him off the Romilly case. Instead of chasing the arson/murder, he should be working on—or more accurately, squelching—the Romilly investigation.
When Dave entered Mickler’s rambler, he offered Sarah his condolences. She immediately teared up, and then sniffed into a tissue as she led him back to the kitchen. She was understandably sad, but, as it turned out, she was also suffering from a cold. Dave sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee while Sarah sneezed her way over to the counter to burn him a piece of toast. The only information he came away with that might prove useful was the name of Carli’s closest girlfriend, Mandy Bowden, who lived in Clarksville.
Stopping at a convenience store to buy himself a couple of Klondike bars to entertain himself on the ride up there, he made the trip in record time, calling ahead to make sure she was home. Through her tears, Mandy explained that Carli was a saintly woman, patient, kind, loving, deeply patriotic, and the best friend any woman could ever have. Dave figured she was laying it on a bit thick, but understood the impulse to speak well of the dead.
“What about the rumors I hear?” asked Dave, sitting on a plaid couch, balancing a coffee cup on his knee. “That she was having an affair.”
“Oh, my,” said Mandy, adjusting her glasses. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that.”
“I need the truth,” he said. “You want to find out what happened to her, don’t you?”
“Well, yes,” she offered.
“So?”
“I don’t want you to think ill of her.”
“I promise,” said Dave. “I won’t.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I guess … yes, she did stray.”
“What’s the guy’s name?”
“She never told me.”
“Oh, come on, Mandy. You can do better than that.”
“I do not lie.”
“Uh-huh. So this mystery man, what did she tell you about him?”
“Very little,” said Mandy, clearly annoyed. She tugged on her cardigan and sat up a bit straighter.
Dave had made a tactical mistake, but he didn’t care. “Look, ma’am, if you know something and you don’t tell me, that’s a crime.”
“I don’t know his name,” she insisted. Then, relenting a little, she added, “All she ever said was that he was good in … that he was, unlike her husband, a generous and gentle soul.”
Dave’s eyes rose to the ceiling. “What else?”
“He liked to give her little gifts. Mostly jewelry.”
“So he was rich?”
“I suppose.”
“How long had the affair been going on?”
“A while.”
“What’s that mean? A week? A month?”
“Years, I believe.” Mandy cast her eyes down.
“Were they in love?”
“I think Carli loved him, yes.”
“Did he love her back?”
“Look, Sgt. Tamborsky, may I be blunt?”
Finally. “Please.”
“It was a sex thing. Carli liked sex, okay? That dolt of a husband—she called him Mr. Hockey Puck—wasn’t interested. Maybe he was getting it somewhere else, too, who knows, but it seemed like he preferred drinking beer with his buddies and watching sports to her. She had tender feelings, Sergeant, and Mr. Hockey Puck stomped all over them.”
“Did he know about the affair?”
“I doubt it.”
“But you don’t know for sure?”
She gave her head a tiny shake. “I don’t want you to think ill of Carli. She was a lovely woman. She deserved much better.”
They talked for a few more minutes. Dave ended the interview when he realized she’d given him all she could. Before he left, he asked if Carli had any relatives in the area.
“Just her cousin. Suzy Engel. That’s her married name.”
“Know where she lives?”
“In Castle Lake, over by the marina.”
“Were they close?”
“Sort of. But … you know, they had their issues.”
Just what Dave was looking for. Someone who knew Carli and wouldn’t need to muck up the waters with a lot of glowing trivia.
An hour later, he was seated on the back porch of Suzy’s house, another cup of coffee in hand. What he really wanted was a plate of chicken enchiladas smothered in green sauce with guacamole and sour cream on the side.
“I’m sorry about your cousin,” he began.
“Boy,” said Suzy. “I was totally blindsided. You’re never prepared for stuff like that.”
“I understand you two were pretty tight.”
“Well, I mean, we didn’t, like, talk every day or nothing. But she and Aaron would come by for dinner every now and then. And we’d sometimes get a drink together over at the Lazy Dog.”
“I was told she’d been seeing someone on the side.”
“Oh, yeah. Had been for years.” Suzy ran a hand through her curly hair. “Don’t know who he was, but she’d talk about him on occasion. Aaron was a dolt. Hardworking, but dull. I never understood why she married him. Maybe she was looking for stability after all the crap she pulled when she was younger.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, she was into drugs for a while. A lot of sex with a lot of different guys. She tried really hard when she decided to straighten up and fly right.”
“And she succeeded?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Of course, to cut Aaron a little slack, I sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted to live with her. She had a wicked tongue. She could come across as sweetness and light, but underneath, she was, like, always calculating her advantage. Ever know anybody like that? Someone you think you can trust but you really can’t?”
“Who do you think had it in for her?”
“Oh hell, no idea.”
“Aaron?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But he always seemed kind of, like, passive to me.”
“He have a temper? Did he ever knock Carli around?”
“Not that I ever knew about.”
It was as if Mandy and Suzy had known two different women. “Was she seeing more than one guy on the side?
“It’s possible, but I never heard about anyone except Mr. Smooth. That’s what she called him.”
“I was told she called her husband Mr. Hockey Puck.”
Suzy laughed. “Yeah, she liked to give people nicknames.”
“She have one for her friend, Mandy?”
“Yeah. Miss Bible Belt.”
“What was yours?”
Her smile evaporated. “The Bitch.”
“You have one for her?”
“Not something I can say out loud.”
Dave’s cell phone rang. “Give me a second, will you?” he said, getting up and walking out into the yard. “Tamborsky.”
“It’s Mason. You need to get back to the station ASAP.”
Mason was a patrol cop, one of Dave’s buddies on the force. “Why?”
“It’s new info on the Romilly case. Just get back here.”
Dave clicked off the phone. Ducking his head into the porch, he thanked Suzy for her time. He didn’t wait for a response.