“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“Well, I’m not revealing my source.” Galen leaned back on the couch and crossed his legs. He was in control of the interrogation even though Henry wanted to pretend otherwise, and he was sending a clear message of strength and determination with his stance. “Tell me about your relationship with Maureen. I’m especially interested in how it ended.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” Henry gritted out. “We got drunk at an Elks party. We were both annoyed with our spouses and one thing led to another. Before we even knew what was happening we were in a storage closet with our pants around our ankles.”
I wrinkled my nose and muttered under my breath. “Lovely.”
Henry scorched me with a look. “We were drunk. Things happen.”
“Were you embarrassed after?” Galen asked, refusing to let Henry get off on a tangent. “I mean … did you swear up and down it wouldn’t happen again, or did you immediately start making plans for a second round?”
“Neither one of us said a thing. We just went back to the party and pretended it never happened.”
“You had to meet up again,” Galen pressed. “I know you had an ongoing affair for several months.”
“It was closer to a year,” Henry sneered. “After that first night we went several days without seeing one another. The guilt weighed on Maureen more than me. She called and wanted to meet to talk. We picked that little place out on the highway, the one close to the primary surf spot. We knew we wouldn’t be discovered there.
“We talked, had lunch and agreed it should never happen again,” he continued. “I walked her back to her car … and then we climbed in the back seat and did it again.”
“What?” My eyes goggled. “You did it in the car? How classy.”
“Hadley.” Galen sent me a warning look. “Let me handle this part of the questioning.”
If Henry was bothered by my reaction he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely shrugged. “You might think it was a forbidden love affair or something, that we actually longed to be together. That wasn’t the case.”
Maureen had said something similar before we’d left the funeral home.
“What was it then?” Galen asked, feigning ignorance. “What drew you together?”
“Loneliness.” Henry’s answer was simple. “We were both married to other people, but lonely. Gus was all about work and fighting with me. Barbie was all about spending the money I made and ignoring me. We didn’t seek each other out because of love. We did it because we were both lonely.”
I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him even as my dislike regarding his attitude grew. “What about Barbie and Gus?” I asked, refusing to risk glancing in Galen’s direction. He clearly wanted to handle the questioning, but I was curious. “Did you really believe they were having an affair or was it a convenient excuse to make yourself feel better because of what you were doing?”
“I believed it … for about thirty seconds,” Henry replied, dragging a hand through his thinning hair and staring at the ceiling. “Barbie announced it during a fight. I was halfway to Gus’s house to kill him before realizing she was full of crap. I knew she was just saying it to hurt me, but I wanted to strangle him all the same.”
“You obviously didn’t do that,” Galen noted.
“No. Instead I roused my lawyer out of bed – Ned Baxter – and had him put together divorce papers. It was a fairly quick and painless procedure because he had templates on file. He was always good that way.”
I grimaced at mention of Ned’s name. “Ned Baxter was your attorney?”
Henry shrugged. “I had no idea he was a murderer. He was one of the best family lawyers on the island. He got me a divorce with minimal alimony, so I still kind of like him – even though he tried to kill you.”
Galen quickly wrapped his hand around my wrist to quiet me before I could respond.
“So you basically let the island gossip train run in the wrong direction,” Galen supplied. “You had the affair, but Gus and Barbie bore the brunt of the suspicion. That was a lucky break.”
“It didn’t feel lucky,” Henry countered. “Everyone felt sorry for me because Gus stole my wife. That’s how they saw it, anyway. You have no idea how annoying that is.”
“Especially because you stole Gus’s wife,” I said.
Henry rolled his eyes. “I didn’t steal her. We had sex for relief and that’s it. When it came time to end the relationship it wasn’t hard. I’m sure you’re picturing some grand romantic thing, some tortured decision to go our separate ways for the benefit of our families. It wasn’t like that.”
Actually, I was picturing seedy hotels and areas in the middle of nowhere so the two could get in a quickie and then be on their way. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“You do that.” Henry was obviously annoyed. “I don’t see how my affair with Maureen matters. I didn’t kill Trish. Ashley didn’t either.”
“I have to check out every avenue available,” Galen replied pragmatically. “It’s not a full investigation unless I look at all the angles.”
“If I were you, I’d start with Booker.”
I almost snorted in amusement but managed to hold it back … barely. Instead of joining in my mirth, Galen solemnly nodded.
“He’s our next stop,” Galen said, taking me by surprise. “I have quite a few questions to ask him. My understanding is that he was fine dating both Trish and Ashley. But the girls weren’t fine with it. Booker has no motive.”
“We both know he doesn’t need a motive,” Henry fired back. “He is who he is and that means he does things for no reason all the time.”
What did that mean?
“I’m fully aware of Booker’s nature,” Galen said before I had a chance to push Henry on what he meant. “I’ll take care of Booker. As I said, he’s our next stop.”
“Well, good. I hope you lock him up and throw away the key.”
“We’ll see where the day takes us,” Galen said dryly. “As for you, we’ll be in touch. We might have more questions.”
“I might not be in the mood to answer them.”
“I guess we’ll have to wait to see.”
17
Seventeen
“You can’t possibly think Booker is guilty.”
We spent another twenty minutes at Henry’s house – a span that felt as if it were dragging out forever – but I wisely kept my mouth shut until we were back in Galen’s vehicle.
“I don’t know what to think,” Galen said as he started the truck. “If I’m absolutely forced to lodge an opinion, it would be that Booker is not involved. But I don’t solve cases according to my opinion.”
“But … .”
“He was dating both of the women,” Galen reminded me. He seemed agitated, although I couldn’t decide if it was the heat or Henry’s bad attitude fueling him. Of course, my insistence on declaring Booker innocent might have something to do with it, too. “I have to talk to him.”
“He says that women naturally fall at his feet and he can’t do anything about it.”
Galen rolled his eyes. “Of course he’d say that.”
“He also says that both Trish and Ashley knew he wasn’t in it for the long haul,” I added.
“It seems you two have discussed this at length.” Galen gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles whitened. “It’s nice you have faith in him.”
“It’s not that.” I searched for the right words. “It’s just … he doesn’t strike me as the murdering type.”
“And can you describe the murdering type?”
I shrugged. “You know … hinky.”
“Hinky?”
“That’s a word.”
Galen snickered. “It is, but I don’t believe it’s a quantifiable word. I have no choice but to talk to Booker. I understand that makes you uncomfortable, maybe even a little angry. I can drop you at the lighthouse before I interview him, if that makes you feel bet
ter.” What he didn’t add is that it would clearly make him feel better to question Booker alone. He was terrified I’d get in the way.
I couldn’t blame him for being worried, but that didn’t mean I wanted to miss out on him questioning Booker. I honestly thought there was a chance I’d be able to offer some help. “You mean cut me out. You can’t cut out your partner. That’s not allowed.”
“Sidekick. You’re my sidekick.”
“Partner sounds better.”
“Oh, geez.” Galen pointed his truck toward the beach. I knew exactly where he was going. “I don’t want to cut you out. If you remember correctly, it was my idea to include you in the first place. I have to talk to Booker. I don’t have a choice.”
Actually, from his point of view, I understood. That didn’t ease my nervousness. “Maybe I should talk to him for you.”
“No.”
“But … after last night … .” I didn’t finish. I didn’t have to. We both remembered what had happened the previous night.
“You think I’m going to beat the snot out of him because I’m jealous, don’t you?”
“No.” I would never imply anything of the sort. “I’m simply worried that you’re already not in the best frame of mind where Booker is concerned.”
“You don’t need to worry about it.” Galen pulled into the parking lot in front of the beach tourism center. Booker’s aged van was two slots down. “Booker and I have been interacting for a very long time. It’s not always pleasant and nice, but no one has ever died. We’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t even remotely convinced. “Fine.” I blew out a sigh. “If you guys start throwing punches, though, I’m out of here.”
“I can guarantee we won’t start throwing punches.”
IT TURNS OUT THERE ARE different kinds of punches. There are the physical kind that men love throwing around in an effort to prove they’re king of the hill. The other kind is more insidious. It’s of a verbal nature, and it can cause people’s skin to absolutely crawl with discomfort and worry.
Those were the kind of punches we were dealing with, and Booker landed the first jab in this bout. “Am I under arrest or are you here to deliver Hadley to me for safekeeping? I have to say, if it’s the latter, I didn’t think you were much of a sharer. I promise to bring her back to you in pristine condition.”
Galen scowled as he took up position about six feet from Booker. It looked to be a safe distance, but I recognized right away that if they threw themselves at each other it wouldn’t be safe at all. In fact, it would be rather dangerous.
“I’ve got Hadley’s safety taken care of,” Galen drawled, folding his arms across his chest. “We’re here for official reasons.”
“Really?” Booker flicked his gaze to me as his lips slowly curved. “I’d heard Hadley was looking for a job. I didn’t realize she was going to be working for you. What are the benefits like in your office? Wait, don’t tell me.” He held up a hand. “You’re paying her in kisses, aren’t you?”
Galen remained calm on the outside, but I could feel the agitation building up inside of him. It would break loose soon if I didn’t do something to head off this battle of wills … and testosterone. I’d never seen two men more keyed up while at the same time pretending all was normal. It was fascinating … and a little terrifying.
“I’m just helping out,” I interjected quickly. “Galen isn’t convinced Ashley is guilty – and I’m not either – and we want to work together to make sure that an innocent woman doesn’t go to jail. I’d think you’d want to help with that.”
Booker kept his gaze affixed to Galen for another moment before slowly turning to me. “We’ve had this discussion. I don’t believe Ashley is the type to murder anyone. That doesn’t mean I have information to offer.”
“You were … hanging out … with both of them.”
“Sleeping with,” Galen corrected. “He was sleeping with both of them at the same time.”
“Oh, it never happened at the same time.” Booker’s lips curved. “If it happened at the same time, I think all three of us would’ve been happier about the arrangement. I’m sure convincing them of that would’ve been difficult, but I’ve seen the outcome in my dreams and know things would’ve been fantastic if we all played well together at the same time.”
“Oh, gross!” I wrinkled my nose. “You’re not being cute or coy, by the way. You’re being perverted and obnoxious. Besides, no woman really wants a threesome. That’s simply the stuff of bad porn dreams.”
Booker snorted. “I know a woman or two who would argue that point.”
“I doubt it.”
“More importantly, I think your boyfriend does, too.”
I turned an incredulous look to Galen. “What?”
“Ignore him.” Galen waved off my obvious interest in the new topic. “I need to ask you a few questions, Booker. It would be nice if, for once, you didn’t make things difficult … or try to deflect in a manner that gets Hadley worked up for no good reason.”
“What would you have to look forward to if I made things easy?” Booker taunted.
Galen sucked in a breath and I could practically see his temper fraying. He promised no physical punches would be thrown, but I wasn’t sure I believed that any longer. It might not be a matter of if that happened, but rather when.
“Just answer his questions,” I prodded, moving between Galen and Booker. The last thing either of them wanted was to hurt me, and I knew they would fight the urge longer if that was a possibility. “You don’t always have to make things so difficult.”
Booker searched my face for a long beat. “Fine.” He flicked his eyes to Galen. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, I’d like to know if Trish and Ashley were aware of each other,” Galen started.
“They were friends. Of course they were aware of each other.”
“I mean in your life,” Galen clarified. “Were they aware you were dating both of them?”
“You’ll have to ask them.” Booker turned blasé as he picked up a paintbrush and focused on the window. “I wasn’t keeping anything secret from either of them, but it’s not as if we sat down and shared heart-to-heart conversations.”
“How did it work?”
“Well, usually I called one of them and we agreed to meet at a bar,” Booker replied. “We had drinks for an hour, listened to some music and then went back to her place for … um … the main event.”
“What about the morning after?” I asked. “You must’ve talked about something then.”
“You’re assuming I spent the night. I never spent the night. That’s the reason I wanted to stay at their homes. I didn’t want to be the jerk to kick them out of mine after sex.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “So you went with them long enough to have sex and then you took off? That is so … sick.”
Booker shrugged. “Like I told you before, not everyone is built for relationships.” His gaze was back on Galen in a heartbeat. “We can’t all be our esteemed sheriff here.”
Whether he meant it to be a dig or not, it sounded like one. Galen reacted appropriately.
“You can slap at me all you want because I really don’t care,” Galen shot back. “I’m not ashamed to have one girlfriend. I know what you’re doing, by the way, and I don’t like it. You don’t have to be so belligerent.
“I mean … Trish is dead,” he continued. “You didn’t have to see a future with her to feel bad about her death. Any man – invested in the relationship or not – would feel something when he found out the woman he was spending time with was dead. Of course, you’re not a normal man, are you?”
I widened my eyes when Booker took a step forward. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”
They both ignored me. “I’m more of a man than you,” Booker snapped. “Why else was I making sure your girlfriend was safe yesterday? You clearly didn’t have time for her. Word on the street is that you kicked her out of your office. Nice, ma
n.” Booker shot him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
“My girlfriend is none of your business,” Galen fired back. “There’s no reason for you to even look at her, as far as I’m concerned. She’s my priority, not yours.”
“Um, guys, let’s not fight,” I suggested.
It was as if I wasn’t even sharing oxygen with them. They could no longer see or hear me.
“If she’s your priority, why did she get taken advantage of by Aaron the other day?” Booker challenged. “If she’s your priority, why does she always come to me when she needs help?”
“She’s taking pity on you,” Galen replied. “She’s not going to you to ask for help, but to offer it. She can’t help it. She has a big heart.”
I tried one more time. “Guys, I’m serious. We should go back to talking about Trish.”
“You’re worried about that big heart, aren’t you?” Booker supplied. “You’re afraid she’s going to open it to me and show you the door in the process. That’s how things worked in high school. I’m still the same guy I was, and you’re terrified you’ll lose the same way you did back then. Heck, you’re so worked up you look as if you’re going to cry.”
And … I was done. I opened my mouth to tell them that, inform them of my plans to leave. They were too caught up in each other to even notice. I should’ve expected that, I thought as I walked away from the center and left them to posture and poke each other until someone lost an eye or a limb. Neither man was known for letting someone else take charge. Of course they would always lock horns. They fancied themselves the strongest men on the island, which meant taking a backseat to anyone was impossible.
“I hate men,” I grumbled to myself as I headed toward town. I could still hear Galen and Booker shouting at each other as they took the fight up a notch. “I really just can’t stand them.”
Unfortunately for me, no one was around to hear.
“YOU LOOK LIKE roadkill run over twice.”
Lilac immediately handed me an iced tea when I settled at her bar.
“Thanks.” I downed half the glass before continuing. “I feel like I’ve been run over twice … and by two different men.”
Witches Just Want to Have Fun Page 43
