Chapter 7
It was clear Greg hadn't amassed the same wealth as Jonathan. He’d probably made enough to retire on the boat, and that was that. From a distance, the dressy Casio on his wrist looked like a Rolex, and it probably kept better time.
"Did Jonathan say anything to you about his relationship with Melissa?"
Greg's lips tightened, and he hesitated for a moment. "Jonathan really wasn't the type of guy to run around, but things weren’t going well with Chelsea.”
"Were they having problems prior to his affair?"
Greg gave a so-so expression. "It was a little rocky. He wouldn’t have stepped out if things were good.
I don't think he was giving Chelsea the attention she wanted, and he wasn't getting what he needed from her.
Then he started acting and met Melissa. Sparks flew.
I don't know if you've seen that girl, but she has qualities. "
"Chelsea is a beautiful woman."
"No doubt. But nobody knows what happens between two people. I don’t know why they couldn’t make it work, but it wasn't working."
“How long had they been married?”
“Not long. Maybe three years.”
"Do you think she could have had any involvement in his death?” I asked.
His brow knitted with confusion. "I thought he was shot by that other actor.”
"We're just covering all the bases. You understand."
He nodded. “You think Chelsea could have persuaded that guy to shoot Jonathan and make it look like an accident?"
I shrugged.
Greg considered it, then dismissed it. "Chelsea’s smarter than that. If she wanted Jonathan out of the way, she would have figured out something a little slicker. There are better ways."
"Gives her an alibi," I said, playing devil’s advocate.
"Okay, so you think she conspired with that guy? He’s still going to get charged, and with that kind of heat, he'll cop a plea and rat out any co-conspirators.” Greg shook his head. “Like I said, Chelsea's too smart for that.” He paused. "If I were you, I’d lean on that guy until he cracks.”
"He claims the ammunition was swapped."
"By whom?"
"That's what we’re trying to figure out. Did Jonathan mention anyone to you that he had trouble with?”
Greg hesitated for a moment, then finally admitted, "Well, he started seeing this other chick in addition to Melissa."
JD and I both looked surprised.
"He’s a handsome guy, well-mannered, rich. He was getting more ass than a toilet seat.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t one to run around.”
“He confided in me that he hadn’t had sex with Chelsea in over a year." Greg shrugged. "Who could blame the guy for fooling around? I mean, we're men of a certain age. If you're not gonna live a little now, when?”
"Do you know the name of the other girl he was having an affair with?”
Greg thought hard for a moment. "Oh, what the hell was her name? He showed me pictures of her. Tiffany, I think."
"You got a last name?”
He shook his head.
"You know if she's married?”
"I don't think so.”
"Where did he meet her?”
"Out at a bar,” he said, sounding like he didn’t know the details.
“What did she look like?”
“Petite. Long black hair.” His face tightened as he continued to think. “It will come to me.”
"Is there anyone you can think of that may have wanted to harm him?"
"Besides his wife and Melissa's husband?”
I nodded.
Greg sucked his teeth as he thought. "Not really.”
"He didn't express any concern to you?”
"Well, yeah, he expressed concern. He was concerned about his marriage going to shit. He was concerned about things blowing up with Melissa. He was concerned about juggling the other girl he was seeing." Greg’s brow knitted as he thought. "You know, now that you mention it, he did seem a little more stressed than usual. But he didn’t say anything. Jonathan was the kind of guy who would keep his cards close to his chest.”
"You two were close, right?”
"I've known the guy since I was a kid. My best friend." He shook his head, and a grim frown pulled his lips.
"When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.
"It's been a couple of days, but we talked all the time. He was always sending me those stupid memes on social media.”
"Have you ever been to see the show aboard the Mystic Voyager?”
Greg shook his head. "No. He invited me, but I just hadn’t gotten around to checking it out. That's not really my scene. I’m not into theater. But I hear the food is good.”
I dug into my pocket and handed him a card. "If you think of anything else that might be helpful, get in touch.”
"I will. I sure hope you get to the truth. I find it hard to believe that someone would keep real bullets in proximity to a stage weapon. Seems stupid.”
"Or deliberate.”
Greg agreed.
My phone buzzed with a call from the sheriff. "I talked to Brenda. She says there are no prints on that shell casing, and no prints on any of the cartridges in that box of ammunition."
"That's disappointing," I replied.
"You making any progress?”
"Not really. I have questions about Nate.”
"Benjamin has been charged with first-degree murder. I think the prosecution is hoping he will take a manslaughter plea. Bail has been set at $500,000.”
“I’m not so sure it was intentional on his part.”
“Keep digging.”
I thanked him for the information and ended the call. Before I could catch Jack up to speed, my phone buzzed with a call from Hunter. I’d put his contact information in my phone. “Hey, Hunter, what can I do for you?”
“I’ve been thinking about this whole thing. I remembered something I thought you should know.”
“I’m listening.”