Deadly Sins

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  We nodded in unison.

  “My findings so far raise enough suspicion to continue on with testing,” Victoria said, “but there’s no clear proof. Not yet.”

  “Are you saying there’s a possibility that Marissa’s death was not an accident?” Maddie asked.

  “At first, I thought Nick was just upset and that he was dealing with his grief by assuming what happened was someone else’s fault.”

  “And now?”

  “Drowning is one of the most difficult diagnoses in forensic medicine, but there’s merit to Nick’s theory. Every minute counts, so let’s not waste it.”

  “I appreciate how thorough you’re being,” I said. “Nick would too.”

  “Yeah,” Maddie said. “It means a lot to us.”

  Victoria stood. “Come with me.”

  The phone on her desk buzzed. She glanced at it, told it to “piss off,” and walked out of the room without answering it.

  I was beginning to really like her.

  “This case is ... I don’t know ... bothering me, I guess you could say.”

  Victoria looked at me. “You never told me what you do for work.”

  “I’m a private investigator,” I said.

  She grinned like she wasn’t surprised. “When I initially scanned Marissa’s body, I was checking for bruising. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. As the hours passed, two thumb—sized discolorations appeared—one on the top of her left shoulder, and the other on the back of her right shoulder. I’ll show you.”

  She pulled a camera from the shelf, swiped through several photos, and then held it out in front of us, zooming in so we could get a good look.

  “Oh yeah, I see what you’re saying,” Maddie said. “They look like thumbprints all right.”

  “Based on the width, it’s hard for me to determine whether these were made by a man or a woman. If it was a woman, she has good—sized thumbs.”

  “How large?” Maddie asked.

  “I estimated the width at just over two and a half centimeters.”

  “It’s reasonable to believe the bruises came from someone pushing down on her, right?” I said.

  “It is, especially since the left side of Marissa’s collarbone is fractured as well.”

  She was murdered, of this I was now certain.

  “Last night, I conducted an experiment with my assistant,” Victoria said. “We went over to the lagoon after it shut for the night and recreated the scene. My assistant knelt in the water, and I stood behind her and placed my thumbs in the same position as the ones I found on Marissa to see how easy it would be to press her into the water.”

  “And?”

  “Applying pressure to those areas, I was able to recreate a similar scenario, suggesting a strong possibility of forced drowning. And there’s something else ...”

  She retrieved a small plastic bag from a large envelope. “I found these shreds of brown string stuck around a clasp on the back of Marissa’s dress. They didn’t come from anything she was wearing when she died, which leads me to believe they were transferred from something else.”

  Something else ... or someone else.

  CHAPTER 17

  We stopped at a café along the esplanade. Maddie needed coffee, and I needed tea—the strongest tea I could find. Since arriving in Cairns, the time change had been a struggle. If I stopped going, even for a minute, I’d be asleep in no time. If I was going to make it through another day, caffeine was a necessary evil.

  After leaving Victoria’s office, I texted Val. The wedding dress rehearsal was in a few hours, but Val and Georgia agreed to meet us at the coffee shop while Layla was at her final dress fitting.

  The pair looked as ragged as we did when they entered the café.

  “How’s everyone holding up?” I asked.

  “Not well,” Val said. “What about you? We heard Nick was arrested.”

  I nodded. “We don’t know what they plan to do with him. For now, we’re still looking for answers about Marissa’s death. We met with someone you know last night—Leo.”

  Val and Georgia looked at each other, confused.

  “Who?” Val asked.

  “The guy Layla slept with on her bachelorette night.”

  “Oh, that guy,” Georgia said. “I don’t think he ever mentioned his name. Not to me, anyway.”

  “He said Layla made a comment about Marissa keeping things from Nick,” I said. “Do either of you know what she meant?”

  “No idea,” Georgia said. “I’ve thought about Marissa a lot since everything happened. She was the best of us, you know?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She was accepting. She didn’t love with conditions. She was just ... you know ... she was so ...”

  Tears pooled in Georgia’s eyes. Val grabbed her hand. I grabbed a napkin and offered it to her. She blotted her eyes. I found Georgia’s comments curious, especially after learning Marissa blew up on Layla at the nightclub. Lecturing Layla about having sex with another man wasn’t indicative of an accepting person. Perhaps, in death, Georgia saw Marissa differently than she was in life. I wasn’t sure.

  “Sorry I’m such a mess,” Georgia said.

  “Don’t be,” Maddie said. “Let it out. You miss your friend. It’s okay.”

  “We should be focusing on Marissa’s funeral,” Val said. “Not the wedding. I can’t believe Layla is going through with it.”

  I couldn’t believe it, either. “Val, you went after Marissa when she left the nightclub. What happened?”

  “I hoped I could calm her down, explain that Layla had permission to have one last freebie that night.”

  “Why would Layla tell you and Georgia but leave Marissa out?”

  “Layla didn’t think she’d understand. She worried Marissa would see James differently if she knew he’d sanctioned it. Then she walked up and blurted it out because she’d had too much to drink and wasn’t thinking.”

  “Georgia just said Marissa was an accepting person, though.”

  “She was, with most people,” Val said. “With Layla, it was different. Sometimes she acted like an older sister to Layla.”

  “Why?”

  “Marissa spent most of her childhood keeping Layla out of trouble. They’ve known each other a lot longer than we’ve all known each other—since they were five.”

  “How did Marissa take it when you explained everything?” I asked.

  “Better than I expected, but she also felt left out.”

  “How did she end up alone at the end of the night?”

  “She said she needed to call Nick. She thought it would make her feel better. She seemed fine. I had no idea she wasn’t, or I never would have left her side. I regret that decision now.”

  “We all have regrets,” Georgia said. “We all feel like shit over what happened. Even Layla, in her own way. I think she’s focusing on the wedding so she doesn’t have to deal with her emotions.”

  Val’s phone vibrated. It was Layla, wondering why they weren’t at the house when she returned.

  Georgia chucked her coffee cup into the trash. “Sorry. We have to go.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “Hey, isn’t that Shawn?” Maddie said.

  I followed her line of sight. It was Shawn, walking out of a florist’s shop holding a sack of arranged flowers in his hands. He saw us and ducked his head behind the sack, hoping we wouldn’t see him.

  I cupped a hand over my mouth and yelled, “Shawn.”

  He buried his chin into his chest and stuck his hand inside his pocket, fumbling around a moment before pulling out a set of keys. Then he took off in the opposite direction. He was fast, but not fast enough.

  “Shawn, wait,” I said. “Hang on a minute.”

  He turned. “Stop following me, or I’ll have you arrested too.”

  “Why didn’t you already?”

  “James said you wouldn’t be a problem, and yet, here you both are ... again.”

  I raised my t
ea container and thumbed at Maddie’s coffee. “We’re not following you.”

  “You just did. But, hey, there are a lot of people around today, so whatever you’re thinking of doing this time, you can’t.”

  “I don’t think you had anything to do with Marissa’s death.”

  He laughed. “I don’t care what you think.”

  “Can I show you something?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think what happened was an accident?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The police are dealing with it now.”

  “Why did you run when we came to your hotel room?” I asked.

  “Because every time I see that guy, he goes off half—cocked.”

  “Nick?”

  “Asshole came over to my house one night after he started dating Marissa and dislocated my jaw with his fist.”

  “I ... I had no idea.”

  I’d known Nick for a long time, and Shawn was right—at times, Nick’s temper flared, but the man I knew wasn’t physically violent.

  “He was sure I’d been harassing her and wouldn’t believe any different,” he said,

  “Weren’t you, harassing her, though?”

  He laughed. “The things you do for your friends.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothin’, okay? Forget I said it.”

  “The night of Marissa’s death, Layla made a comment about a secret Marissa was keeping from Nick. Any idea what she was talking about?”

  “Well, now, I just might. But even if I did, it isn’t my secret to tell.”

  “She’s dead,” I said. “It no longer matters.”

  “You’d think. It’s a bit more complicated than you realize.”

  At the moment, the only thing I realized was that I was getting nowhere, and he was becoming increasingly fidgety. “Can I show you something?”

  “I have to go. Dress rehearsal is in a couple hours, and they need these bouquet thingies. I don’t know what I’m doing talking to you anyway.”

  “I do. You cared for Marissa, and there’s some small part of you that feels unsettled about the way she died. Right?”

  He unlocked the car with the key fob, ducked his head inside, and set the sack on the passenger seat.

  I held a photo I’d snapped of the brown string in front of him. “Have you ever seen this before?”

  He glanced at me like I was a lunatic and then looked at the photo and said, “Hard to even see what this is.”

  “Close as I can tell, it’s string from a piece of clothing, or a necklace, or a bracelet, maybe.”

  He shrugged. “No idea.”

  He backed out of the parking stall, and I stood there, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop him this time.

  “I messed that up,” I said.

  “You did great,” Maddie said. “He didn’t say much, but he did talk.”

  “He knows something. Something important. And I didn’t do a good enough job of getting it out of him. I feel like the truth is right in front of me, but I still don’t see it.”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  I needed to process everything I’d heard and seen so far—every conversation, every bit of evidence, every motive, starting at the beginning.

  I decided to return to the beginning, to where it all began—the lagoon. We crossed the street and headed down the walking path.

  A car pulled alongside. Shawn was back. He put his window down. “Where did you get that photo?”

  “I can’t say,” I said. “Not yet.”

  “Then tell me where those fibers were found.”

  “They were caught on the back of the dress Marissa was wearing when she died, and that night, she’d been wearing a red dress, which was made of an entirely different fabric than these fibers. Do you recognize it?”

  “Show it to me again.”

  I showed him. He zoomed in, scanning the photo for a time, and then he swallowed hard. “It can’t be. She wouldn’t have. How could she?”

  “Who are you talking about, Shawn?”

  “This is such a mess ... such a total mess. I loved Marissa.”

  “You used to be in a relationship together. Of course you did.”

  “That’s the thing ... we weren’t together.”

  “I don’t follow,” I said. “She told Nick you left notes on her car after the breakup.”

  “She lied to protect herself. I didn’t write those notes. It wasn’t me.”

  “Then who was it? Do you know?”

  “I wanted to believe it was an accident, but now ... now I don’t know what to think. I should have been there, should have protected her. But how could I have known?”

  I leaned inside his car window. “Protect her now, Shawn. Give her the justice she deserves.”

  CHAPTER 19

  There was one final loose end that needed binding, and even though Maddie wasn’t keen when I suggested I handle it alone, through the years she’d come to understand what I needed. Right now I needed space. She took the car and went to see Nick, and I hopped in an Uber.

  I was dropped off where Layla and James’s wedding venue would take place the following day. It was in the middle of the rainforest and far more extravagant than anything I’d ever seen, right down to a massive, square—shaped tropical floral display wall, which would serve as the backdrop of the outdoor wedding ceremony.

  A woman with a white apron tied around her waist, carrying a covered metal tray, smiled at me. “How you going?”

  “I’m looking for the wedding party,” I said.

  “You’re early. Dress rehearsal isn’t for another forty—five minutes. You can wander around if you like, or check out the ballroom. That’s where the luncheon will be held today and the reception tomorrow. There’s a rumor the senator convinced Andrea Bocelli to sing.”

  “Huh. I wonder how he knows him.”

  “He’s friends with the senator’s father, from what I hear.”

  The woman pointed me in the direction I needed to go and went on her way.

  The ballroom was tucked away at the back of the property. It had a stage beneath a pergola strung with at least fifty strands of twinkle lights. The thought of the Italian crooner singing for an adoring audience seemed almost too good to be true. Still, I could picture it as if it were happening in front of me.

  Val approached me, smelling like a combination of liquor and bug spray. She hiccupped a slurred, “Sloane? What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you,” I said.

  “Me? Why?”

  “You’re a bit early. Where is everyone else?”

  “Layla put me in charge of the caterers. They’re working on the food right now, and they wanted to talk to me about the dietary restrictions of a few people in the wedding party. It’s stupid, really. It was a few simple questions I could have cleared up over the phone, but they insisted I taste—test what they’re making. You didn’t answer my question. Why are you looking for me?”

  “I ran into Shawn after we left the coffee shop this morning.”

  She crossed her arms. “I’ve been calling him to see why he didn’t drop the floral arrangements by. He wouldn’t answer.”

  “He’s not coming.”

  “To the rehearsal?”

  “To any of it,” I said. “He’s decided not to attend the wedding tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean? Why not?”

  “Marissa gave you a braided hemp necklace when you two were in college. Shawn told me she made it. He said you still wear it, even after all these years. But you’re not wearing it now, and I’ve never seen it on you, even though Shawn said he was sure he saw you wearing it a few days ago. Where is it now?”

  She rubbed a hand along her throat like she was feeling for it. “I ... I can’t wear it to the wedding, so I took it off. Layla bought us all matching necklaces to wear tomorrow.”

  “Must be special if you kept it this long.”

  She nodded. “It was.”

&nb
sp; “How hard was it for you when she started dating Nick?”

  “What do you mean? I was happy for her.”

  “You were roommates when she met him, renting a house on Madison in San Diego, right?”

  “I’m still there. I ended up buying the place when they got married.”

  “You were a couple, weren’t you?”

  She giggled. “A couple? We were friends.”

  “I heard you were lovers, but Marissa insisted on keeping it a secret. The only people who knew the truth were Shawn and Layla.”

  “I can’t believe this. Did Shawn tell you that? He’ll say anything. You can’t believe a word he says.”

  “You and Marissa moved in together after college. Everyone thought it was innocent, two roommates sharing a nice house together. When people were around, she treated you the same way she treated all of her friends. She even took Shawn with her to her parents’ house for holiday get—togethers because she knew they wouldn’t accept your relationship. I imagine it must have been hard to love her in private all that time.”

  “I loved her ... as a friend. If Shawn thinks we were more than that, he’s mistaken. Ask Layla. She’ll tell you.”

  I was sure she would.

  She’d tell me exactly what she wanted me to hear.

  “You caught Shawn off—guard,” I said. “He knew how much you struggled when she met Nick and ended your relationship, but until this morning, he didn’t want to believe you’d ever hurt her.”

  She stabbed a finger into my chest. “You’re crazy. I don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”

  I stepped back. “Pieces of your necklace got caught in the clasp of Marissa’s dress. How did that happen, do you think? Was it when you were leaning over her body, forcing her head under the water? Did you know Marissa has thumbprint—shaped bruising on the back of her shoulder and a broken collarbone? The prints are a bit larger than average. Looking at your thumbs now, they look like a perfect match to me. After dress rehearsal, why not stop into the police station? If the prints aren’t yours, you can rule yourself out as a suspect.”

  Val lunged to the side, grappling for a steak knife off a nearby table. She sliced it through the air, her intended target the center of my chest. I jerked to the side, wincing as the knife pierced my shoulder. As blood soaked through the sleeve of my shirt, a familiar voice rang out behind me.