by anna snow
I picked up my mug and took a sip. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way."
She smiled and tilted her head as she took another sip.
I filled her in on the rest of what Robert Hatchett told us and how he'd acted.
Mandy leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. Her black ballet flat dangled from the tip of her big toe.
"Is it possible that he was lying? Acting like the grieving husband to throw you off track? Like the way we suspect Lydia of acting comfortable around the people in the newspaper pictures?"
"Of course it's possible." I nibbled my bottom lip and thumbed through the mysterious motel receipts. "But I don't think that's the case. You should've heard Hatchett. How he talked about Lydia. I can't put my finger on why exactly, but I know that he's innocent. It's a feeling that I can't shake."
"And your gut instinct has never been wrong," Mandy mused. "So I guess the question remains. Who killed Lydia Hatchett and why? Do you think that there's a possibility that the detective is right and Jason hired you to throw off the cops?"
"Honestly?" I stacked up the receipts and secured them with a paperclip. "The thought has crossed my mind, but I can't bring myself to believe it. Jason has never been a violent man. A cheater? A liar? Certainly. But never violent," I said. "I'm hoping to get some answers tonight when I go out to Trinity Grove and try to speak to the motel's night manager." I held up the bundle of receipts and waggled them back and forth. "All of these receipts are from the same motel and are all time-stamped after ten o'clock. I figured I'd have a talk with the motel's night manager and see if they remember anyone fitting Jason or Lydia's description."
"Do you think Jason is lying? That he and Lydia were having an affair?"
"I don't have any solid evidence, but yes, I think so. All I know for certain is that Lydia was up to something, and I'm going to find out what that something was, if it got her killed, and whether or not Jason was involved. My hopes are that Lydia was meeting another man at the motel. That would give us another suspect to track down, because at this point, I've got bupkis."
I'd originally intended to wait until morning to talk to Jason about his and Lydia's relationship, but I needed some answers. Like were he and Lydia meeting out in the Grove?
"Before I head out to Trinity Grove tonight, I'm going to give Jason a call. I need to know for certain if he and Lydia were having an affair and whether or not he was meeting her out in the Grove."
Mandy nodded. "That would be good to know before you make the trip. If they were meeting at the motel, then there's no reason to talk to the night manager."
"Exactly." I nodded.
"Well, I have a few calls to return before closing time. I'll let you get back to business." Mandy stood. "Good luck." She smiled.
"Thanks." I smiled back at her as she left the room.
As soon as the door closed behind Mandy I grabbed my phone and dialed Jason's number. I needed honest answers from him in order for me get to the bottom of what Lydia was really doing out in the Grove and whether or not whatever it was she was up to could have possibly gotten her killed. I didn't want to hear him admit that he'd been lying to me. I really didn't want the embarrassment of going through that process again, but what could I do?
Someone knocked on my office door.
"Come in," I called as the phone continued to ring.
Jason walked in.
I disconnected the call and tossed the cell phone onto my desk.
"I was just trying to call you."
"I know. I was already walking into your office, so I didn't answer. Your girl waved me to go on to your office. She was on the phone." He smiled.
"Mandy knew that I needed to speak to you," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"I was heading home from the office and saw that you were still here. I thought I'd stop by and see how far you've gotten on my case. Have you found anything that could help?"
"Well, that all depends on how you answer my questions," I admitted. "There're a few things that we need to discuss. Have a seat."
I pointed to the office chairs, then stood and made my way to the side table and the full coffeepot waiting there. This discussion definitely called for coffee. To be perfectly honest, my entire life up to this point called for coffee.
Jason took a seat. His expression was one of worry and curiosity.
Despite our bumpy past, I had to admit that he was still as handsome as ever. His blond hair wasn't as immaculately combed as usual, and was slightly shaggy instead of his usual close-cropped cut. He wore jeans and a T-shirt instead of his usual business suit. He appeared much more relaxed. He'd changed some, but I wasn't dumb enough to believe he'd changed much.
I turned back to him and handed him a cup of coffee. I knew exactly how he took it. Two creams, one sugar. He smiled and took the mug, sipped, and then rested it against his knee.
I wasn't sure how to start the conversation off, so I figured I'd approach it like a Band-Aid.
Rip it off quick.
"I'm just going to cut right to it." I settled back into my chair. "I know that you and Lydia were having an affair."
He had the audacity to look ashamed and stare down at the floor.
"You lied to me…again."
In all honesty, I didn't have a single, solid piece of evidence that proved whether or not Jason and Lydia Hatchett were having an affair, but Jason didn't know that. The idea was for him to tell on himself.
And he did with his expression alone.
"I should've known you'd find out." He threaded his fingers through his longer-than-usual hair. "Look, it just happened. I wanted to tell you the truth when I first came to see you about taking the case, but I was afraid if I told you I was sleeping with her you'd refuse to take my case, and that wasn't a risk I could take. I need all the help that I can get right now. It's just a matter of time before the cops arrest me."
I could see where he was coming from. He was desperate, but that didn't negate the fact that he'd lied to me. If he'd lied to me about something as pertinent as his affair with Lydia, what else would he lie to me about?
"I'm not even going to say what I'm thinking. I don't have time for it right now, Jason."
He tapped his knee with the knuckles of one fist. "I'll answer anything you ask. Just don't drop my case," he pleaded.
"Then stop screwing around, and tell me the truth for once in your miserable little life," I snapped with irritation. "How long had you and Lydia been seeing each other before she was killed?"
He leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath. "A while. She came on to me one night after one of her charity events about six months ago. Robert had been out of the country with some of his clients on business. We'd been seeing each other on and off ever since."
I stirred my coffee with a skinny straw.
"Did she ever talk to you about wanting to leave Robert?"
"No." He shook his head. "She made it perfectly clear that I was simply a side piece, and when she decided it was over, it would be over. No strings attached. No attachments, period."
"And you were okay with that?" I asked skeptically. I found it hard to believe that he would be. The Jason I knew liked to call the shots. Most men would have a problem with a woman setting all of the ground rules in the relationship or affair.
"I was fine with it." He waved a hand in the air. "Now, if you're asking whether or not I had feelings for Lydia"—he leaned forward slightly—"then the honest answer is yes, I did, and I know that she had real feelings for me in the end." He looked me in the eyes. "But I'm not looking to settle down right now, and she had no desire to leave her husband. We were happy with the way our relationship was set up. I knew the scandal that would ensue should Lydia leave Robert for me. My career comes first right now. I had no desire to jeopardize it. I know that it sounds crazy, but that's just the way things were."
"And you don't consider sleeping with the boss's wife a danger to your career?" I asked in a disbelieving tone.
&nbs
p; Call me crazy, but I thought having an affair with your boss's wife was a huge career risk.
"No. Neither Robert nor Lydia would have said anything about the affair because it would've harmed their reputations. Their charities and businesses would have suffered under the scandal, which means my career would suffer, and none of us would want that."
I understood what he was talking about. Keep your dirt hidden, and everyone thinks you're still clean, and the money keeps rolling in.
"Did Lydia ever talk to you about any old or new friends she'd recently reconnected with?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know her to have friends at all. She was a solitary woman. I can't see her having lunch dates with the girls. She talked to people connected to her charities, but I wouldn't consider them her friends. Their conversations were always business related as far as I know."
"Did you two ever meet out in Trinity Grove?"
He looked at me quizzically. "Trinity Grove? Why would we meet in Trinity Grove?" He sat forward in his seat.
"You tell me," I said and took a sip of my coffee, hoping he'd spill more details the way he spilled about the affair, but his expression remained puzzled.
"We met at her home or at my place when Robert was out of town, and we hooked up a few times in my office, but we never met in Trinity Grove. Why are you asking?"
He was telling the truth. It was obvious that he was now just as curious as I was about what Lydia had been up to.
I didn't want to mention the receipts I'd found in her bedroom just yet, so I played it cool. "I got a tip that she might've been spending some time out there. She never mentioned spending any time in the Grove?"
He frowned. "No. There's no reason she would want to. She was a city girl. Trinity Grove is a small town. I can't imagine her ever wanting to spend time out there. That's just not the Lydia I knew."
This new information helped me more than Jason knew. So far, I'd learned that Lydia was hiding her movements in the Grove from everyone, including Jason, for reasons I couldn't yet fathom. She wasn't meeting him at the motel, which meant that there was someone else out there who could've killed her. I just needed to figure out who that person was.
"Why should I believe anything you've told me?" I asked. "You lied to me yesterday when you hired me."
"Because." He sighed. "I didn't kill Lydia. I cared deeply for her. Look at me, and tell me that you think I'm really capable of killing someone, and I'll walk out of here and never bother you again."
I stared at him for a long hard minute. As ticked as I was at him for lying to me about the affair, I couldn't for one hot second bring myself to believe that he killed Lydia.
"I don't think you killed her," I admitted and blew out a weary sigh. "But if you lie to me again, I will drop this case."
"Understood," he said quickly. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have to get going." He stood.
I followed him to my office door. He opened it and stepped outside, then turned back and faced me.
"Listen, Barb. I know things between us went south, and I screwed up. I did you wrong, I know that, but I still think of you as my friend, even if you don't feel the same way about me." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't want to go to jail for a murder that I didn't commit. I cared for Lydia, but if you want to drop the case, I understand."
Jason was a lot of things, but he wasn't a murderer. He was wicked smart. He had a heart, and he always started out with the best of intentions. But he also had a penis, and that's the part he listened to the most. That's what always seemed to lead to his bad decisions, but I couldn't see it leading him to murder.
To the clinic for a shot of penicillin? Yes.
To murder? No.
I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out where the real Jason King had run off to, and who this person standing before me was. Maybe Jason had changed more than I'd thought? Yeah, right. Who was I kidding? But I did appreciate his apology.
I smoothed my hands down the legs of my pants. "Have you ever known me to be a quitter?" I asked and smiled. "I'll find out who killed Lydia. Don't worry about me." I propped my hands on my hips. "I'm a big girl."
Jason smiled, leaned in, cupped the back of my neck, and kissed me on the forehead the way he always had. "Thanks, Barb."
"Don't thank me yet."
I followed him to the main entrance and watched as he let himself out, got into his car, and pulled away from the curb.
I stood on the sidewalk as Jason's car disappeared around a corner. Night was falling, and the street wasn't as busy as it had been. The streetlights were coming on, and several Open signs in the windows of businesses across the street were now switched to Closed. Many people were getting into their cars and calling it a day. I wanted to do the same, but I still had work to do.
I was about to turn back and enter the office when something caught my eye. I discreetly scanned the sidewalk across the street from me until my eyes landed on what had caught my attention.
At the far end of the street stood a man. He was tall, dressed in all black. From a distance, he appeared muscular and had dark hair. He was far enough away that I couldn't see his face clearly, but one thing was for certain, he was staring directly at me.
I played it cool and calmly stepped back inside the office, but that's where my cool ran out. I ran past Mandy to my office and grabbed my gun. I slid it into the back of my jeans and ran back out the main door and onto the sidewalk.
I had no idea who I was chasing or why I was chasing them, but the way the mystery man was staring at me, I knew he was up to no good.
Did he have something to do with the case, or was I just jumping to conclusions? Was I being paranoid? No. I didn't think so. There was something about the guy that I just couldn't put my finger on.
I took a deep, calming breath.
I scanned the street again but was too late.
The mystery man was gone.
* * *
Mandy and I closed up shop around nine o'clock.
I watched as she got into her car and pulled away, then disappeared out of sight. The memory of the mystery man was still fresh in my mind. Who was he, and why was he watching me? Or was he even watching me at all?
Tossing my purse into the passenger seat, I hopped in my car, keyed the address for the motel into Google Maps on my phone, and pulled away from the curb. I hoped the cell phone would keep a signal until I reached my destination. I needed to break down and purchase a real GPS for my car, but at the moment the cost of one was out of my price range.
The Trinity Grove Motel was at least a forty-five minute drive from the office, so I cranked up the tunes and relaxed back into my seat as the city drifted by.
The lights of the city glittered in a rainbow of assorted colors across the windshield of my bright-red Beetle as I made my way out of town.
I cranked up the radio, sang along with the Rolling Stones, and let the events of the day roll uninterrupted through my mind. That mystery man had me unable to think about much of anything else. If only I'd been able to get closer to him. To get a better look at him.
I needed to let it go. As far as I knew, that guy was just another citizen making his way home.
Thirty minutes after I left the city, I entered the much smaller town of Trinity Grove. I'd decided to Google the little town and found what I read to be quite charming.
Trinity Grove, or the Grove, as it was often referred to, was a small lakeside summer town where many people from the city and surrounding areas escaped the hustle and bustle of big-city life for some rest, relaxation, and homemade apple pie. The Grove was best known for its down-home feel, lakefront vacation cabins, campgrounds, and summer Apple Pie Festival.
Living so close, I should've known more about the Grove, but I didn't. I'd just never had the desire to pay the place a visit. I wasn't a camp-in-the-heat-and-be-eaten-by-mosquitos kind of girl. I'm more of the sit-in-my-room-and-read type.
As I crept down the main street I passed a
convenience store, a flower shop, several roads I assumed led to lakeside cottages, and a small mom-and-pop grocery store/farmers' market. The town, or what I could see of it in the dark with only the dim streetlights overhead lighting my way, would probably appear much more welcoming during the daylight hours.
But right now, the quiet stillness gave it a Friday the Thirteenth movie type of feel and was seriously starting to creep me out.
I shook the image of Jason Voorhees jumping out and whacking me with a machete from my mind. I breathed a sigh of relief when the robotic voice came from my phone and told me that my destination was two blocks ahead on the left.
I turned into the parking lot of the Trinity Grove Motel, found a parking spot, and shut off the ignition.
While I stayed in my car for a few minutes and tried to get my bearings, I observed the completely non-threatening structure laid out before me.
The motel was a bright, cheery sunshine yellow with sky-blue trim. The office was surrounded with a thick wooden porch that sported a large Welcome to Trinity Grove greeting sign. Brightly colored yellow, blue, and pink flowers flanked the stairs leading up to the office porch and along part of the motel's sidewalk.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in the wrong place, so I reached into my purse and pulled out a receipt to check the address. The motel was so cheerful in appearance that I couldn't imagine anyone having a sordid affair beneath its roof.
I checked the receipt. Nope. I was in the right place alright.
If Lydia was having an affair with someone other than Jason, would she go through the trouble of leaving town to rent a motel room, especially one this…cheerful? There were countless hotels and motels in the city. Why come all this way?
Then again, I'd seen men and women walk next door and pounce on their neighbor sunbathing on the patio while their significant other took a nap barely one hundred yards away, so I supposed this motel really wasn't that strange of a meeting place for an affair.
But still, why leave town?
