Chapter 10 #3
“Think about it,” Mendoza said. “At your husband’s funeral, she was the other woman.
Everyone was looking at her, judging her.
She had to play a part—the heartbroken mistress, wronged and grieving.
Now? Now she’s alone with us, and she knows I’m investigating a murder.
Different audience, different performance. ”
Maybe. But then again, maybe not. “You think she killed him?”
“I think it’s possible,” Mendoza said. “Did you happen to notice that she didn’t ask how he died?”
I hadn’t, until he mentioned it. “Couldn’t that just be because she was overwhelmed by grief and wasn’t thinking straight?” And not because she already knew the answer?
“You asked when I came to notify you about Mr. Kelly’s death,” Mendoza pointed out.
“But I was hardly overwhelmed with grief on that occasion, was I?”
It had been the best news I’d gotten since David left me, in fact. We were still married, and I still stood to inherit. Had he lasted one more day, until the divorce was final, I would have been left destitute.
“Be that as it may,” Mendoza said blandly, but with a glint in his eyes that made me think he remembered, as I certainly did, that I had opened the door for him in my bathrobe, with a glass of wine in my hand, when he came to notify me that my husband was dead.
“Jacquie hired you to find out if Nick was cheating. You told her he wasn’t.
But what if you were wrong? What if she found out on her own—saw something, heard something—and decided to take matters into her own hands? ”
It was possible, I suppose. Or not impossible. However— “A bullet between the eyes seems a little much for a cheating boyfriend, don’t you think?”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Mendoza said.
“I don’t think she knows about the mob connection, though.” I certainly hadn’t told her.
“She behaves like she doesn’t,” Mendoza agreed. “But Nick could have told her about it after she hired you. You were at the Body Shop for the first time on Thursday, you said. He had dinner with her that night. He could have spilled everything—the debt, the money laundering, all of it—then.”
He could. “Why would that make her want to kill him, though? Mob affiliation is one thing, cheating is another.” And I was pretty sure I knew which one Jacquie would consider worthy of death.
Mendoza shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t. But it’s something to consider. Just like the fact that she didn’t ask us how he died.”
Right. “So what happens now?”
“Now we need to find out if Jacquie has access to a gun. Or knew where Nick kept his.”
“Nick had a gun?”
He gave me a look. “Guy with his background, mixed up in what he was mixed up in? I’d put money on there being at least one firearm in that apartment. Or in the truck. We’ll know more after the forensic team is done.”
“Wouldn’t the murderer have taken it with him, if he used it to shoot Nick?” Or she?
“We’ll see,” Mendoza said. “If he had one registered in his name and it’s gone, at least we’ll know what the murder weapon is likely to be.”
“And Jacquie?”
“Someone’ll keep an eye on her. See if her story holds up, if anyone can verify where she was last night. If she’s guilty, she’ll slip up eventually.”
He checked his watch and grimaced. “I have to go. I need to get home, change, and get to Sambuca in—” he calculated quickly “—fifty-three minutes. It’s a good thing Lola’s got Elias for the rest of the day.”
Lola had Elias most of the time, from what I understood. Mendoza’s son lived full time with Mendoza’s ex and the PI. Mendoza took him as often as Lola would let him—or as often as his duties allowed—but Elias’s home was with Lola and Mitch.
“Is that where you were when I called?” I asked. “Dropping him off?”
“Soccer tournament,” Mendoza answered. “I had to arrange for a babysitter so I could cover my shift last night, but it was worth it.”
“Couldn’t he have stayed with your ex-wife if you were going to be busy?” Or had she dumped him on Mendoza because she had plans of her own with the new husband?
His expression hardened slightly. “No, he couldn’t.
Not only do I not want to tell my ex-wife that I’m too busy to take care of my son—she’s relatively cooperative when it comes to custody right now, but who knows how long that’ll last or what might change later?
—but also, when I have the chance to spend time with him, I’m gonna do it.
Even if I have to get a babysitter for the evening and all I get is breakfast and a soccer game before he goes back to Lola and Mitch. ”
“Of course.”
He studied me for a moment. “For what it’s worth, he loves spending time with…” He hesitated for a second, “—with the sitter. I didn’t deprive him in any way.”
“I didn’t think you did,” I said. I had never doubted that Mendoza adored his son. It was all through his voice when he talked about him.
“Anyway, now I really have to go. You know where you’re headed?”
“Home,” I said, “I think. To spend some quality time with Edwina and pretend this morning didn’t happen.”
“Good luck with that.” He opened the Jeep’s door and got behind the wheel. “Give her a scratch for me.”
“Will do,” I said, and watched as he started the engine. When he had pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home—left out of the parking lot—I keyed open my own door and climbed inside.