Chapter 8
“Look, I don’t need to get caught up in this shit,” Blake said.
“I’ll keep your name out of it,” I assured.
After a little hemming and hawing, Blake said, “Isaac George. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
“You have contact information for him?”
“No.”
I dug into my pocket and gave Blake a card. “Get in touch if you think of anything else.”
I offered my condolences, then flagged down a few waitresses until I found one who confirmed Blake was behind the bar all night last night.
We left Tidal, and I called Elizabeth Stockton. She’d all but admitted to having an affair with Liam during our last investigation. I doubted she had anything to do with the tennis pro’s demise, but her husband was a prime suspect.
Elizabeth answered after a few rings. “Deputy Wild, why am I not surprised?”
“You heard the news.”
“How could I not? It’s the talk of the town.”
“Where are you?”
“Why? Am I a suspect?”
“I don’t know. Should you be? You don’t seem too upset.”
“We all grieve in different ways.”
“I’d like to speak face to face.”
“Easier to judge someone’s truthfulness in person.”
“Indeed.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide. I’ll be at Cut for another half hour. Then there’s no telling.”
I told her we were on the way.
JD and I hopped into the Porsche and headed up to the mall. We found a place to park, then weaved through the upscale crowd, looking for the high-end hair salon.
Leggy beauties pranced from store to store, clutching bags from expensive boutiques. There were plenty of designer dresses, high heels, oversized sunglasses, and wide-brimmed hats. Highland Village was the place for Coconut Key's elite to burn obscene amounts of money on bespoke luxury items.
The snip of scissors filled the air, along with the sound of blow-dryers and gossip. The aroma of fruity shampoo, conditioner, and hair products filled my nostrils.
I scanned the stations, looking for Liz. She was hard to miss. In her mid-30s, the socialite could turn heads. With a figure honed by the courts and Pilates, she held her own against the 20-year-olds.
Raul worked his magic, styling her blonde hair to perfection.
We approached the chair, and she glanced at us in the vanity mirror, decked out with flattering light.
“There are going to be a lot of heartbroken women in Stingray Bay tonight,” Elizabeth said.
“Anyone in particular?”
“I can think of a few.”
“When was the last time you saw Liam?”
“He gave me a lesson the day before yesterday.” She looked at Jack. “What happened to your arm?”
“Hazards of the job.”
A sympathetic frown pulled her pouty lips.
“Who else was he giving lessons to?” I asked.
Liz thought about it for a moment. “I hate to gossip,” she said, relishing in spilling the tea. “There is Blair Duval, Poppy Winslow, and Gwen Wescott. That’s just who I know about.”
Raul kept styling her hair, soaking up the gossip.
“Don’t worry,” Liz said. “Raul is a vault.”
“I hear nothing. I see nothing. I know nothing.”
“Is your husband aware of your extracurricular activities?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s too preoccupied with his own affairs to give consideration to mine. Even if he did find out, he’s not the violent type. He didn’t kill Liam.”
“It didn’t bother you that Liam was coaching the rest of Stingray Bay?”
“Honey, I can separate love from lust. Besides, it became like a competition between us. Who could have the most fun.”
“Where were you last night between 8:00 and 10:00 PM?”
She lifted a sassy eyebrow. “Why would I kill the only man on the island who could give me a good orgasm? I’m not stupid.”
I waited for a legitimate answer.
“I was having drinks with a girlfriend.”
“I need a name.”
“Sarah Finley. I’ll text you her info.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
After a pause, she asked in a soft voice, “How was he killed?”
“I can’t discuss specifics.”
“I heard somebody bashed his skull open with a tennis racket.”
I declined to comment. “Was Liam dealing drugs?”
Recognition flashed in her eyes. “Not to me,” she assured, putting her hand to her chest like it was beneath her. “But I know he was a reliable source of high-quality substances.”
“Did he mention any trouble he was having?”
“No. Liam was always very accommodating and a good listener. He never talked about himself or his problems. He made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered.” A sorrowful frown pulled her lips. “He was great to have around, really.”
“Keep your ears open,” I said. “Let me know if you hear anything.”
“I will. Are you off to speak with my husband?”
I nodded.
“I wonder how you’ll do that discreetly,” she said with an arched eyebrow. She certainly didn’t want us stirring up trouble.
“I won’t throw you under the bus, but he might already know.”