by Nora Kane
Cassandra went into Mal and his history as well before cutting to footage of Margot and Radcliff leaving county lockup together.
“Perhaps Margot Harris owes her freedom from prosecution to her rather cozy relationship to some of our local police. Here she is exiting county lockup with homicide detective Rick Radcliff. They have been seen socializing on more than one occasion and it’s not a stretch to say they have more than a professional relationship,” Cassie narrated as the footage showed the two of them walking along.
“I’d like to think we have more than a professional relationship,” Radcliff said.
“Me too; if not, you owe me some money.”
The video cut to Cassie asking Margot her question and Margot telling her, “If I wanted to hit you, there wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do to stop me.”
“She edited that part a bit,” Margot said. “It makes it sound worse than it was.”
Radcliff agreed.
“Twelve thousand people think I’m some sort of cartel assassin now.”
Radcliff shrugged. “Just because they watched it, doesn’t mean they believe it.”
“Let’s hope so. This is the kind of hassle I don’t need right now.”
Chapter 5
“You lied to me.”
“What? No, ‘Hey Phoebe, how's your day going’ or ‘I really like the way that convict orange jumpsuit you’re wearing brings out the color in your eyes’?”
Margot leaned across the table so she was face to face with Phoebe. “I don’t care about your day or your eyes. I’m trying to help you and I can’t if you lie to me. Especially when that lie gets me on the wrong side of a misunderstood businessman like Harry Lee.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s not a very good alibi if he left you alone while the crime was being committed.”
“I was with him just like I told you.”
“Yeah, but you left out the part where he left at eight-thirty. Did you know your husband was on his phone from eight-forty-six to eight-fifty-four?”
“Okay, what does that have to do with anything?”
“Good thing you’re pretty, Phoebe, because you’re kind of dumb. It means he wasn’t stabbed until sometime after eight-fifty-five. You want to know how long it takes to get from the Palms to your place at eight-thirty at night?”
Phoebe didn’t answer.
“Kind of puts you home in time to kill your husband and his girlfriend.”
“But I wasn’t there.”
“It’d be nice if we could prove that.”
“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
“It’s a nice idea, but the bloody dress they found stuffed in your trash can seems to have put the ball in our court.”
“Anyone could have put that there.”
“Okay, but since you were seen wearing it earlier in the day, it would help if we could show you couldn’t have been there.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then where were you?”
“I stayed in the room. They’re nice rooms and I figured if Tim didn’t expect me back until eleven, I ought to stay out until eleven. It was part of our unspoken arrangement.”
“Unspoken arrangement?”
“What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”
“You sure he was in on the arrangement?”
“He pretended to buy that I was going to hang out with some girls from the golf club. He might not have been the brightest bulb on the string, but he wasn’t that stupid. What about the knife or Tim’s missing engraved straight razor?”
“I think they’ve determined the razor wasn’t the murder weapon.”
“But it was gone.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. What about the butcher’s knife then?”
“The one that’s missing? The wounds are consistent with that kind of knife.”
“So, it was the murder weapon?”
“Or one a lot like it.”
“Wouldn’t I have thrown that in the same trash can with the dress? How is it that I was supposedly dumb enough to put evidence in my trash bin, but I hid the knife where they couldn’t find it?”
“It’s a fair point, but ‘Why would I do something dumb’ defense has never held up in court and you’re making a huge assumption that they won’t find it between now and the trial.”
Phoebe started to say something but caught herself. Instead of talking, she put a cigarette between her lips. After she lit it up and blew out some smoke, she asked, “What now?”
“Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Helms didn’t have the same unspoken agreement you and Tim had.”
Phoebe shrugged, “I doubt they did.”
“Did you lie to me about anything else?”
Phoebe took a minute to think about it before saying, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Think? It’d better be know. Not just know but know for certain. If it’s not, I’m done.”
Again, Phoebe seemed to catch her words before they came out of her mouth. This time, however, instead of coolly blowing some smoke, her bottom lip started to quiver. It wasn’t long after that the tears started to flow. At first, it was just a few tears running down her face, but soon enough, she was sobbing with her head in her hands.
Somewhere between the sobs, she managed to blurt out, “I’m sorry.”
Margot didn’t want to feel sorry for her, but she couldn’t help it. At this moment, the previously cool and aloof trophy wife looked weak, vulnerable, and defeated.
“Look, you just need to be honest with me, okay? I’m on your side,” Margot reassured her.
“It doesn’t feel like anyone is on my side.”
“I get that, but I am.”
Phoebe gained a little of composure back, managed to take a long drag off her cigarette, and became a little calmer.
“You know, I just thought because I really didn’t do it, I’d be fine.”
“And you still will be. I’ll find something.”
“They put me in here on a Friday, so I’d be stuck. They did it on purpose to break me.”
Margot nodded. She was right. Normally, this treatment was reserved for those the police were sure were guilty and just needed a push to get a confession.
“I thought if I acted tough, you know, went into full bitch mode, I’d show them I couldn’t be broken, but here I am bawling like a little schoolgirl.”
“You’re in a tough spot. There’s no shame in being upset when things are upsetting.”
“I guess you’re right. I also guess I need to tell you something. I haven’t been honest with you.”
While Margot waited for her to continue, she started to think Phoebe was about to confess.
“My marriage was in dire straits. The lawyers had already filled out all the paperwork. All that was left was for me to sign.”
“So you didn’t have as much of an unspoken agreement as you thought?”
Phoebe managed to laugh. “No, that part was fine. It was everything else. We could have sex, but we couldn’t have a conversation. We couldn’t agree where to eat or what to watch on television. We made a good-looking couple but other than that? We had nothing.”
Phoebe’s lip started to quiver again. Margot sensed another crying jag coming on.
“What about what you told me yesterday? The part about getting half and being able to find another man, no problem?”
“Half of what? He played the game well enough to always look rich, but on paper, the place it counts in the courts, he had less than nothing. What he did have was most likely acquired illegally so I wouldn’t be getting half of that either. As for the finding another man, brave talk on my part. I think the person I was trying to convince was me.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Margot said, even though after the shit she’d taken from Phoebe, she wasn’t sure how much she meant it.
“I’m mistress material. Harry Lee will dump me as soon as he realizes there’s even a remote possibil
ity I might want to be more than his side piece.”
“Okay, but you still shouldn’t lie to me. As bad as your divorce might have been, it would have been a vacation compared to the penitentiary.”
“I know. Believe me, two days in here has been too long. It gets worse.”
“How so?”
“Tim and I had a public blow out. I said some things that look bad after what happened.”
“You threatened him?”
“I did.”
“You didn’t say you were going to stab him to death with a butcher’s knife, did you?”
“No, nothing that bad. If he didn’t go and get himself murdered, it wouldn’t be that bad at all.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I wasn’t a person he wanted to mess with. I told him if he messes with the bull, he might get the horns. I didn’t really mean it…the fact is, I am exactly the kind of person people can mess with and I’m a long way from being a bull.”
“You think the police know about this?”
“I know they do. Before my lawyer came in and told them I wasn’t answering any more questions, the fat detective brought it up.”
“That’s not good, but it’s all still circumstantial…except for the dress. Anything you want to tell me about that?”
“No, I’ve been straight with you on that one.”
“Good,” Margot said as she got up.
“Are you leaving?”
“I have some people to talk too. I’ll be back.”
Margot was at the door when Phoebe said her name.
“What?” Margot asked.
“Thank you,” Phoebe told her.
“You’re welcome, but I haven’t really done anything yet.”
“Yeah, but…you’re trying.”
Chapter 6
Margot was on her way to see Derek Helms when her phone rang. She had Bluetooth in her new Toyota Prius, so she was able to answer hands-free.
“What part of discreet don’t you understand, Margot, or should I call you Viuda Negra?”
“Who is this?”
“Harry.”
“Harry Lee?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you get my number?”
“It wasn’t hard. You’re in business, aren’t you?”
He was right about her being in business, but since she partnered up with Shaw, all work calls came in through the office and then Shaw’s long-time secretary, Ms. Collins, routed the calls to the proper place. If Ms. Collins had routed the call, Margot would know.
Margot decided finding out how Harry got her number was a question for later. Instead, she asked, “What are you talking about? I haven’t said a word.”
“Then why is some vlogger talking about us meeting at Palms? I sure as hell didn’t tell her I saw you at the Palms and I sure as hell didn’t hire you to kill anybody.”
“Is this vlogger named Cassandra?”
“The show’s called Cassandra’s Coastal Crime Alert, so I’m going to say yes. Do you know her?”
“Not exactly, but she’s made me a subject of her show before.”
“You need to make her stop. I don’t need this kind of publicity.”
“We don’t exactly talk.”
“How’d she know we met last night at The Palms?”
“She must have followed me, or she paid off Theo. Either way, it didn’t come from me. I’m not a fan.”
“I can see why. According to her, you're a regular one-woman crime wave. Is she right?”
“No, of course not. Do I seem like some kind of hitwoman to you?”
“You don’t not seem like a hitwoman.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Do I need to take care of this Cassandra?”
“No, please don’t.”
“Then I suggest you do it. Maybe give her the Bobby treatment.”
“Bobby treatment?”
“Yeah, mace her, stomp on her a couple of times, like you did to Bobby last night.”
That actually sounded good to Margot, but she figured that wouldn’t go as well. Unlike Bobby, Cassandra would probably press charges.
She told Harry, “I’ll handle it.”
“Do you still have my number?”
“Yeah.”
“Call me sometime, maybe we can put this Cassandra situation behind us.”
“It already is,” Margot said as she ended the call.
Margot was tempted to pull over and watch the video but decided all it would do was piss her off. She was doing a good job all by herself pissing off a guy like Harry Lee without Cassandra making it worse for the sake of YouTube views.
She was pretty sure the only way Cassandra could have known she saw Harry Lee last night was to have followed her. The only person who knew she was going there was Radcliff and he wouldn’t have said anything. She must have hung around and saw them both leaving the Palms and jumped to the conclusion they were there discussing some business.
That part wasn’t entirely untrue. Margot was a little disappointed Cassandra hadn’t figured out who she was working for. It seemed the real story about a gangster’s married mistress’s husband ending up dead was a lot better story than some made-up nonsense about Margot being a professional killer.
Margot started wondering if Cassie was tailing her right now. She made a sudden left turn across traffic and then pulled into the first gas station she saw. Margot pulled up to the pumps and then hurried inside. She knew she looked funny standing there staring out the window, but she did it anyway.
A beat-up Ford Focus slowed down as it passed the station. Margot watched it speed up and go past before parking in the lot next door.
“Do you have a back door?” Margot asked the clerk who looked barely old enough to drive.
“Uh, yeah, why?”
“I’m going to use it, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay, um have I seen you before?”
“I doubt it?”
“You’re not that Viuda Negra chick from the CCCA show, are you?”
“If I was, would it be wise to mess with me?”
The clerk suddenly looked very afraid and it was clear he believed the bullshit Cassandra was selling. He pointed to a door in the back of the store and Margot walked away thinking being able to scare young minimum wage employees was the only thing good about Cassandra’s stupid YouTube show.
