Liar, Liar, Heart's Desire

by Suzie Quint

  She so didn’t want someone to have to rescue her.

  As she punched in the last digit of the next number, the door made a metallic thunk.

  She pushed the handle down tentatively. It yielded. A slow exhale of disbelief.

  She was in.

  ~***~

  Alec imagined Sebastian would have been embarrassed by how deadly dull his memorial was turning out to be.

  The first two speakers were casino executives who had clearly been pressed into service at the last minute. The main thrust was what a driven businessman Sebastian had been. To hear them tell it, Sebastian’s only passion had been the casino. He certainly didn’t sound like someone who had married five times, and certainly not to younger, desirable women.

  Sebastian’s kids’ eyes had glazed over. Liz didn’t appear to be paying attention either, but in her case, with her tightly drawn lips, stiff posture, and occasional twitch of her head, Alec guessed she was having an unpleasant mental conversation with Sebastian.

  When Collum’s brunette introduced the next speaker, Alec couldn’t keep from shaking his head. Soft-hearted Candy had let herself get roped in.

  The brunette had to adjust the microphone for her.

  “Sebastian―” Candy paused as though startled by her amplified voice. “Sebastian was a good man. He wasn’t the easiest man to live with, but he was a good man.”

  She went on to extol his virtues in the way of someone who believed speaking ill of the dead would damn her to hell.

  Within thirty seconds, Alec was only half-listening. A minute in, a nervous titter swept through the crowd, and he had to ask Collum what she’d said.

  “Something about being knocked over with a feather when someone named Samantha inherited the fortune,” Collum muttered from behind his shoulder cam.

  Liz’s cheeks had gone a dusky shade as she glared at Candy. Nothing like having your late husband’s snub made public at his memorial.

  “And when the lawyer said all us exes were getting a bequest, I thought, well, that’s sweet of Sebastian,” Candy continued.

  Liz murmured something not quite sotto voice that Alec didn’t catch, but Candy must have because she continued in a slightly louder voice, her eyes locking on Liz as if daring Liz to contradict her remark. “But that’s the way Sebastian was.”

  Liz stayed silent, her lips pressed tightly together.

  Candy’s gaze swept the crowd as though she’d dealt with and dismissed Liz. “He remembered the people who cared for him, who stood by him, even though things didn’t always end well. He didn’t forget Samantha, and he didn’t forget the other women he’d loved.”

  “Oh for crying out loud,” Liz said in a voice meant to carry. “Let’s just have him canonized and be done with it.”

  Candy dropped her sweet face and skewered Liz with a look. “What’s the matter, Liz? Tired of playing the grieving widow already?”

  The crowd was suddenly alert.

  “No, just tired of hearing you lie about how wonderful Sebastian was. He was my husband, and I loved him, but he wasn’t a saint.”

  “Neither were you,” came a voice a few rows behind Liz.

  Alec’s gaze shifted as Liz jumped to her feet to glare at Bales.

  “I was a better wife than he was a husband!” Liz yelled.

  Bales cocked her head and pointedly looked Liz up and down before her gaze locked on the ruffle that camouflaged Liz’s stomach. Poisoned saccharine dripped from Bales’ voice. “I always thought you were a touch on the skinny side, but widowhood seems to agree with you. I believe you’re putting on weight.”

  Liz’s hand came within inches of covering her belly before she arrested the motion.

  Callum’s brunette had apparently assessed the odds and concluded the service was about to turn into a free-for-all. She stepped forward and took Candy’s place at the microphone. “El Dorado would like to thank you for coming today and sharing our grief. An open bar has been set up in the room next door. Please feel free to linger as long as you like.”

  “Classy,” Callum said. “How many people do you think will hang around to see if the fireworks display starts up again?”

  “If we’re lucky? All of them.” Alec said. “Be sure to keep your camera ready.”

  ~***~

  The first time Cleo had been in Sebastian’s suite, she’d been sixteen and working in housekeeping. The décor had been off-white with lots of chrome and a few colorful accents back then. It was now stark white with splashes of red and black lacquer. She expected Liz had redecorated when she moved in, but the changes didn’t seem that severe. Then again, what Cleo remembered had been more than one wife ago. Maybe the décor tended to circle around. Sebastian would have been too canny to mention it, but wouldn’t that chap Liz’s cheeks if she knew she was echoing a previous wife’s taste?

  Where to start the search? Living upstairs from his office seemed as though it would eliminate the need for one in the suite, but Sebastian had a small library that contained a desk. There was probably a safe as well, either there or in the bedroom. Something small because he’d had access to the casino safe anytime he needed it. But there was no point looking for it. The cops had undoubtedly already removed whatever was there.

  None of his desk drawers were locked. Not that there was much there and nothing she cared about.

  This was so stupid. Why had she thought she’d find anything? Embracing this crazy mission had given her a focus and camouflaged how useless she felt, but her chest felt hollow as she faced the futility of her search. She almost gave up, but after all the trouble it had been to get there, how could she face Alec without seeing it through? Worse, how would she face her mother knowing she could have tried harder? So even though she no longer expected to find the marker, she went into the bedroom.

  Her entire Denver apartment would fit twice over into Sebastian’s bedroom. The bed was a California King with a royal blue cover but, of course, what drew her eye was the Jacuzzi in the corner by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The tub was partially sunken, surrounded on all sides by two shallow steps made of marble, or maybe granite. She crossed the room, stopping just short of the steps.

  This was where he died. If any place should feel haunted, this was it. Was it odd that it didn’t? It had been drained of water and, apparently, any sense of significance, leaving it feeling oddly sterile.

  It was just a place. As soulless as any other unoccupied room in the casino’s hotel.

  She turned her gaze away from the corner. The bed had been made, confirming her suspicion that whatever the cops had missed, housekeeping had probably swept away. Maybe they’d found the marker and tossed it. No, they wouldn’t have. Anything like that would have been passed along to one of the VPs who would have turned it over to the police.

  She opened the drawer of the nightstand. Nothing but the typical stuff everyone kept in a nightstand. She got down on her knees and looked under the bed.

  More nothing. Not even dust bunnies.

  She sat back on her heels. A book about casino management sat on top of the nightstand. Like most writers, she was a lover of words, and it seemed sad that the last thing Sebastian had read was a dry book about business. It should have been some great classic like A Tale of Two Cities. Or the latest thriller. Something by Harlan Coben maybe. She’d have even been happy if it were some cheap summer romance like the ones she indulged in. Of course, considering it was Sebastian, it probably would have been something racy. She smiled as she got up and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about Sebastian with Fifty Shades of Grey on his nightstand for the girls in housekeeping to see.

  She didn’t know why she picked up the book. Maybe because it was the last thing Sebastian had read. As she did, her fingers skimmed the top of the pages, snagging on a barely felt irregularity. A bookmark? She felt it again, and with the tip of her nail, separated the pages where he’d left off and read the first paragraph on the page.

  As she’d expected, it was deadly dull.
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  And then she looked at the slip of paper and stopped breathing.

  Her hand shook as she picked it up. It was the size of an office routing slip, about a fourth of a regular sheet of copy paper. Handwritten on it was the acknowledgement that Annaliese Carson agreed to repay the loan made by Sebastian Koblect plus interest.

  Against all odds, she’d found the marker.

  Chapter 20

  Alec was surprised none of the main players took the opportunity to duck out. He’d thought for sure Liz had had enough embarrassment, but she stuck with the casino executives who were solicitous of her in spite of her lack of inheritance. Her ex-husband hung back but kept an eye on her, complimentary drink in hand and a sulky look on his face.

  “Well, that started out slow,” Collum said, “but it was one of the more lively memorials I’ve ever been to.” He eyed the bar set up in the corner. “You’re not going to have a fit about me drinking on the job, are you?”

  “I won’t tell on you if you don’t tell on me,” Alec said.

  Callum smiled and headed for the bar. Alec was about to follow him when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and found a text from Cleo that started with three smiley faces followed by on my way home.

  Did the smiley faces mean she’d found something? Damn. He smiled to himself as he put his phone away, wishing he was there to hear about her adventure. Something good needed to happen to make missing out on that worthwhile.

  He turned toward the bar, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  “Any word from Cleo?” Martin already had a drink in his hand.

  Alec didn’t want to share her message, but he figured Martin had earned at least the bare bones. “She’s out and safe.”

  “Good.” Martin looked down into his drink, nodding. The nodding went on long enough Alec figured he had something more to say. After a few long seconds, “She’s not meant for a tabloid, you know.”

  So he’d figured out who signed their checks. It had taken him long enough.

  “She’s bright and driven. And she’s not afraid to ruffle feathers,” Martin said. “She needs to be at a serious paper.”

  “Seems to me your serious paper had her and let her get away.”

  “That was a mistake. But it’s not a permanent one. She’ll come back to us because she needs us. She needs to be where her stories are taken seriously. Where she’ll make a difference.”

  “I think she needs to be where they know what they’ve got when they’ve got her.”

  Martin shook his head. “She’ll never be satisfied freelancing for a tabloid.”

  Freelancing? Was that what she’d told Martin? For a moment, Alec was amused. Then he realized, if Martin thought she was freelancing, it was a much more realistic expectation that she’d walk away and go back where she came from. And that was exactly what Martin was telling him: Don’t get attached; she’s not staying.

  Was that what she’d been working toward all this time? A way out? No, he didn’t believe it. From the moment her mother had been arrested, clearing her had been Cleo’s priority.

  But before that . . .

  That, he wasn’t so sure about.

  And if the charges were dropped? What would Cleo’s priority be then?

  Did he really think she wouldn’t jump at the chance to go back to her reputable media? She’d probably be gone so fast he wouldn’t even see the dust trail.

  Well, at least he wouldn’t have to compete for the best stories. Somehow that wasn’t as comforting as it should have been.

  Still, he wasn’t going to let Martin see that it bothered him.

  He leaned forward, as though sharing a secret. “Maybe your paper ought to start paying its reporters what they’re worth. Maybe then you wouldn’t have to worry about luring back the ones who go astray.” He clapped Martin on the shoulder, turned, and walked away. What he needed now was a drink. Or five.

  As was typical of this sort of environment, people didn’t go to the bar, get their drinks, and disperse. Of course not. They got their drinks, moved back a few paces, and congregated dead center in the path to said bar. It was a practice that always irritated Alec because it forced him to shoulder his way through the traffic jam. Determined not to add to the problem, once he got his drink, he retreated.

  Liz was still sticking close to the executives, but people were approaching to offer condolences. Nothing good was likely to happen until that was over. He was about to settle at one of the empty tables to wait her out when she sent a hostile look toward the side of the room where Candy sat with Teresa.

  Teresa waved at someone across the room then gave Candy’s hand a squeeze, picked up her purse, and left the table. Her chair was still warm when Alec slid into it. “Hey, lady, can I buy you a drink?”

  “Ha ha,” Candy said with a smile. “It’s an open bar.”

  He returned her smile. “Then I’ll buy you two.” He let the smile fade away. “How are you doing?”

  She gave him a wry look. “Well, I haven’t been tarred and feathered yet, but it’s not because Liz wouldn’t like it to happen.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about her. I think she lost her power when she didn’t inherit everything.”

  “That doesn’t mean she can’t embarrass the hell out of me.” She stirred her drink with a swizzle stick. “I wish Willa were here. She’d make sure Liz stayed away from me.”

  Willa wasn’t there? Alec had assumed she was, but with so many people to watch, he hadn’t noticed her absence. “I’m surprised she’d miss this. She’s fond of knowing what’s going on.”

  Candy smiled as though they were sharing confidences. “Gossiping, you mean.”

  “Yeah.” Alec smiled back. “Gossiping.”

  “I always liked that about her. She knows everyone’s secrets.”

  “Surely not everyone’s.”

  “The secrets she doesn’t know aren’t worth knowing. That’s what she always says.”

  “If that were true, I know what secret I’d ask her about.”

  She cocked her head. “What’s that?”

  “Who killed Sebastian.”

  Candy quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s a secret any more.”

  “But I’m not convinced— Wait. What do you mean, ‘it’s not a secret any more’?”

  “Oh.” Candy’s hand went to her mouth as if she could stuff the words back in. “Oops.” Then she dropped her hand and shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s not a big deal now. It’s just something Willa said last week.”

  “And that was . . . ?”

  “That if she could bet on who killed Sebastian, she’d put her money on Annaliese.”

  “Willa said that, did she?”

  “I told you what she doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing.” Candy looked out across the crowd then changed chairs so her back was to the room. “I can’t stand the looks Liz keeps shooting at me. Warn me if she heads this way, okay?”

  “Of course.” He still didn’t understand why Candy thought she’d revealed a secret. “Exactly when did Willa say that about Annaliese?”

  “Let’s see.” She took a sip of her drink. “It was when we were shopping, so it must have been Tuesday.”

  The day before Annaliese was arrested. A lucky guess? Wishful thinking? He’d seen no evidence that Willa held a grudge against Annaliese, but they’d been friends once and ex-friends often made the bitterest enemies. “What happened to Willa and Annaliese’s friendship?”

  Candy looked into her nearly empty glass. “Willa didn’t tell me much when it happened because my marriage was in trouble, and then I was in the middle of my divorce. She figured I had enough problems of my own and didn’t want to burden me.”

  “But isn’t that what friends do? Share the burden?”

  “I’m sure she meant to tell me eventually, but . . .”

  “But what?

  “Well, after the divorce, our friendship got a little strained.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Cand
y blushed. “Because I’m an idiot.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “No, it is. I know it. I can be blind to things that are staring me in the face.”

  Alec couldn’t help smiling. He liked people who acknowledged their own failings. “And what were you blind to?”

  Candy’s blush deepened. In a tiny voice, she said, “Willa had a crush on me.”

  That was the last thing Alec expected and, for once, he was certain it showed on his face. It took a second to recover. “And you didn’t feel the same about her.”

  Candy shook her head. “She’d been a good friend to me, but I’ve always been into men.”

  “But you stayed friends.”

  “Yeah, but it was awkward for a long time.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, we’re good again.”

  “So she got over it.”

  “Yes. Finally. And it only took her falling in love with someone else.” Candy swiped her fingers across her forehead then flicked them as if wiping away sweat.

  “So who’s she in love with?”

  “I don’t know except that she’s a showgirl, and she’s involved with someone else, but Willa says that’ll be over soon.”

  A cold chill walked down Alec spine. His lips felt numb as he repeated, “A showgirl?”

  “Yeah. That’s why she missed the memorial. She had a chance to spend time with her today.”

  There were dozens of showgirls, any one of whom might fit Candy’s scenario. It didn’t have to be Jada. But Willa pointing a finger at Annaliese the day before the arrest? If Jada was the object of her affections, Annaliese’s arrest had conveniently cleared an obstacle.

  If his suspicion was right, Cleo would walk into the condo and find Willa there. She trusted Willa, and if she found the marker, she was probably dying to tell someone.

  Alec stood. “I’ve got to go.”

  ~***~

  Cleo didn’t stop shaking until she was halfway to the condo. There’d been a really bad moment when she’d discovered the outer door of the suite was locked and she’d realized she might be trapped. Fortunately, she’d found a set of keys in the receptionist’s desk.