One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Who else was in the room when she said it?”

  “May. She really didn’t want to see Heather go.” She cast me a strange sidelong look.

  “You want to tell me something else.”

  “It seems wrong to say it. Especially since Heather’s dead.”

  “I won’t say who told me,” I assured her.

  “It’s not a fact, more like a suspicion.”

  “I understand,” I said, “and I’ll treat it as such.”

  She stopped pushing her cart and lowered her voice. “It’s just that I got the feelin’ May had an unhealthy attachment to Heather. She was furious with Heather when she said she was leavin’. Seemed invested in gettin’ Heather to stick around and beat the Drummonds.”

  “When you say unhealthy obsession…?”

  “I think she was in love with her.”

  I stared at Mitzi for several seconds. “Do you think Heather knew?”

  She started to say something and stopped, cringing a little, and then said in a whisper, “I suspect May was Heather’s boyfriend.”

  “Really?”

  “The more I’ve thought about it, the more it fits. They started gettin’ close, closer than Heather and me. And Abby was gone most of the time, so May took her place.”

  “So you think she made up the salon boyfriend?”

  “Oh, I think she had him for a week or so, but then she started talking about her ‘boyfriend’ differently. Sweeter. Calling him ‘Peep.’ I wouldn’t be surprised if she went from the salon guy to May and just kept up the ruse as a cover.”

  “How did May react at the party when Heather said she was really going to leave?”

  “She started cryin’, and the two of them talked outside by Heather’s car for about ten minutes before they both left.”

  “In separate cars?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Abby said you’d told her Wyatt showed up drunk to the party, and that he and Heather had sex in the bedroom.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Really? I don’t remember tellin’ her that, but to be honest, when we finally talked and compared notes about everything, I was pretty drunk myself.”

  “How did May behave after Heather left?”

  “She was really depressed for quite some time. Until she started datin’ Tater.”

  Was it just sadness because Heather had left, or had May struggled with a guilty conscience?

  A shadow crossed in front of us, and I glanced up to see Paul Conrad standing in front of Mitzi’s cart. His face was an ugly mask of fury.

  “Paul,” Mitzi said, shaking with fear.

  “I thought I told you to stay away from my wife,” he growled, his hands fisted at his sides.

  “I just had a few questions,” I said.

  “About that bitch Heather?” He took a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Wyatt Drummond did the world a favor when he killed her. And there’s absolutely nothin’ you need to be talkin’ to my wife about.”

  I saw Marco out of the corner of my eye, about to rush toward us, but Paul couldn’t see him—he’d turned to face his wife. Keeping my hand low, I motioned for Marco to stop. The last thing I wanted was for Paul to know Marco was working with me.

  “Did you plan this, Mitzi?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head violently.

  “She didn’t know,” I insisted, my voice shaking. I couldn’t let Paul hurt her because I’d ambushed her. “I came here to do some grocery shopping, and when I saw her, I decided to see if she’d talk to me.”

  His brow rose. “You were stalkin’ her?” Some of his anger seemed to fade. “You realize that’s a crime? I should place you under arrest.”

  Fear made my legs weak. I had no doubt he would follow through. And as soon as an arrest photo was taken, my father’s people would begin to circle in. “Like I said, I saw her while I was here shopping. I wasn’t stalking her. You must know that Drum doesn’t have a grocery store. It was just a coincidence.”

  “If you were shoppin’,” he said in a smartass tone, “then where’s your cart?”

  “Carly,” Marco said, rounding the corner, pushing a cart with several items tossed inside. “There you are. Why did you take off like that?” He turned and feigned astonishment, as if only realizing Paul was standing there, then extended his hand, surprise lighting up his eyes. His reaction was so genuine, I almost believed it myself. “Hey, Paul. I didn’t know you knew my girlfriend.”

  Paul motioned toward me. “You need to keep a better handle on your girlfriend, Roland. She’s harassin’ my wife.”

  Marco hesitated, and I knew he was struggling with whether to defend my honor. But the last thing he wanted to do, rightfully so, was draw negative attention from one of the cops he was trying to topple. My pride could handle Marco berating me in front of Paul Conrad. I refused to put Marco in any more danger.

  “I’m sorry, Marco,” I said in a meek tone, lowering my gaze. “I know you said to stay away from Mitzi, but I really wanted to talk to her, so I slipped away to ask her some questions.”

  Marco was silent for a moment, and I glanced up to see his stunned expression.

  Paul laughed. “Gotta keep these women in line, ain’t that right, Roland?”

  I shot Marco a look that said play along.

  He clenched his hands at his sides. “Yeah. Gotta show them their place.”

  Paul clamped Marco’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you get to it, while I deal with my own wife.”

  “She didn’t do anything,” I pleaded. “She told me to leave her alone.”

  His gaze hardened. “Believe it or not, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Carly Moore.” Paul shot a dark look to Marco. “If you don’t get her under control, then you should find yourself another girlfriend.”

  “Carly,” Marco barked, reaching out to me.

  His tone scared me, but not because I was scared of him. It only proved how frightened he was for me.

  I went to him and he wrapped a hand around my wrist, dragging me toward the exit, leaving the cart abandoned at the end of the aisle.

  He didn’t let go until he opened the passenger door of my car. I climbed inside, and he slammed the door shut behind me before stomping around to the driver’s side. He didn’t say a word as he pulled out of the parking lot, but he held the steering wheel in a death grip, his entire body so tightly wound I could bounce a quarter off it. He cast me a glance, fury in his eyes, and then made a pronouncement that caught me by surprise.

  “You’re done.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I blinked at him in confusion. “What do you mean I’m done?”

  “Do you really believe you can keep lookin’ into this?” he said, pulling into a strip mall parking lot. He took several deep breaths before he turned to me. “He just threatened your life, Carly!”

  I’d figured as much, but I hadn’t known for sure. “So we just stop?”

  “We don’t stop,” he said, his voice shaking. “You stop. Clearin’ Wyatt’s name isn’t worth you gettin’ a target on your back with the sheriff’s department.”

  “You’re going to do this without me?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I’m a damn deputy sheriff, Carly!” he shouted. “It’s my job to do this!”

  “No,” I said, trying to control my anger, “it’s not, because the good ol’ boys club is keeping you under their thumb. They won’t let you become a detective no matter how good you are.”

  “Well, they might now,” he said in a dry tone, shaking his head as he stared out the windshield. “Why did you do that?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

  His eyes burned with anger when he turned back to me. “Why would you make me look like such an utter asshole?”

  I gaped at him. “I was trying to protect you, Marco!”

  “At what price, Carly? Now he thinks I’m just like him.”

  “I’m
sorry,” I said, “but I’d do it again if I thought it would help you. If we’d stood up to him in there, you’d be in his sights too. You would have caught his attention, and then you’d never be able to bring them down from the inside.” When I could see I hadn’t swayed him, I added, “Marco, it’s no different than being undercover. You played a role.”

  “I’m not like them, Carly, and it makes me physically ill to let anyone think otherwise. To let that man believe I’d treat you that way.” His voice broke. “My character has to mean something. I have to stand for something.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “I’m sorry.” I reached my hand up to his cheek and looked deep into his eyes. “You are a good man, Marco Roland. You are a man of character, and I’m lucky to know you.”

  His hand covered mine and some of his anger faded. “I nearly shit my pants when I saw Conrad walk into the store.”

  I pulled my hand away and sat back in my seat. “Do you think he knew we were there? Do you think he followed us?”

  His shoulders tensed. “No. I think he was legit stalking his wife.”

  “I hope he doesn’t hurt her because of me.” My stomach churned at the thought of what might have happened after we walked out of the store.

  “I tried to get to you as fast as I could. I had no idea what he would do to you.”

  I didn’t want to open that can of worms again, so I focused on what I’d found out before Paul showed up. “Could you hear our conversation?”

  “Yeah,” he said, sitting back. Then, as if he’d only just realized the seat was adjusted for someone significantly shorter than him, he grunted and reached for the handle in front of the seat to push it farther away from the steering wheel. “She offered up some interesting facts. Like Conrad using his badge to threaten her with a ticket if she didn’t go out with him.”

  I leaned my head against the headrest and sighed. “Yeah, I caught that too. He’s a real peach.”

  “It’s interesting that she thought Heather might have been in a relationship with May.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “Do you think Mitzi was just tryin’ to throw us off her husband?”

  “You tell me,” Marco said, leaning his head back too. “You were the one watching her.”

  “I think she was sharing what she saw as a possible truth.”

  Marco cracked a grin and turned his head to the side to look at me. “Good critical thinkin’ skills.”

  I gave him a lopsided grin, but it collapsed. “We need to talk to May.”

  He sighed, the light leaving his eyes. “Carly.”

  “He already knows I wanted to ask Mitzi about Heather. It’s not like I can hide the fact that I’m interested. Besides, I think he was pissed because I ignored his orders, not necessarily because I’m poking around.”

  “So you think he’s clear of this mess?” he asked in surprise.

  “He’s not our only person of interest. If May loved Heather to the point of obsession, and Heather refused to stay, she had motivation to kill her. Even if it was accidental.”

  “So who was Heather meetin’ at the Mountain View Lodge?” Marco asked. “If it was the older boyfriend, it seems like he would have been able to pay. I doubt they’d need help from Mitzi.”

  “What if it wasn’t a romantic rendezvous? What if Heather was meeting with her co-conspirator?”

  His mouth twisted to the side. “I don’t know. They could have met literally anywhere to discuss their plans. But you can get arrested for indecent exposure if you fornicate in a public place.”

  I laughed. “Fornicate?”

  “There are lots of things besides sex that could be construed as a sexual encounter,” he scoffed.

  “True…” Sitting this close to Marco, thinking about “fornication” and all the things that would fit that definition, made my cheeks flush.

  “We need to be careful about how we’re fitting the puzzle pieces together,” he said, oblivious to my thoughts. “It’s good to make speculations, but not at the expense of ignorin’ other possibilities.”

  He had a point. “So what theories do we currently have?”

  “We can’t overlook the possibility that Wyatt might have done it,” he said. “He had plenty of motive and no alibi after he left the party.”

  “True.” Even though I didn’t believe he’d killed her, I’d acknowledge that he was a suspect until he was proven otherwise.

  “We have the theory that Heather was working with someone to extort money from the Drummonds. And below that theory, we have a couple of possible co-conspirators. May. Paul Conrad, although we know of no connection between him and Heather other than our speculation that she might have been working with someone in law enforcement. From what I heard of your conversation with Mitzi, she doesn’t think Paul and Heather knew each other.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted grudgingly. “If we take her at her word.”

  “Another theory is that the Drummonds had her killed.”

  “But that one seems less likely,” I said. “Based on the fact they didn’t move her body when construction began. Sure, Bart could frame Bingham for it, but I’m not sure he’d risk bringing attention down on himself.”

  “True,” Marco said, “but we also need to consider where her body was buried. Who had access to that land?”

  “Plus, the person who did it would have to be strong enough to carry Heather’s body to her grave site. May would’ve needed help.”

  “Unless her grave site was also the site of her execution, and the murder simply had her walk there,” Marco countered.

  “And what happened to Heather’s car?”

  Marco grimaced. “Is it a coincidence that her body was found on the disputed land of a man who allegedly runs a chop shop?”

  “So Bingham’s a suspect again?” I asked.

  “Don’t rule anything out until you can prove it,” Marco said.

  “I need to ask Bingham if someone sold him her car.”

  “You really want to ask him that?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Admitting to chopping up her car isn’t the same as saying he killed her. It just means he has a good head for business.”

  “Now you’re justifyin’ his career choices?” he asked in disbelief.

  “No,” I said, insulted. “But the man is the alleged owner of a chop shop, an illegal venture. Do you really think he has a moral compass when it comes to where he gets his cars? Don’t you think he just takes whatever he’s brought?”

  “I don’t like the idea of you goin’ back out there,” he said, staring out the windshield again.

  “Does that mean you’re not gonna give me trouble about continuing our investigation?” I asked.

  He was quiet for several seconds. “I still think you should sit this out. Paul Conrad has obviously done his homework on you. He used your full name.”

  “Because I introduced myself to him when I went to their house.”

  “Still… he’s looked into you.” He paused. “If you keep pressing, he could have you arrested for interferin’ with an active investigation. Plus, you know he’s going to pump Mitzi for what you two talked about. Who’s to say that she won’t tell him everything? If she does, it won’t be hard for him to guess we’ll go see May next.” He turned his head to face me again. “He could have a deputy watchin’ to see if we show up.”

  “I’m not stopping, Marco. I’m still lookin’ into this.”

  “Then maybe we should call May instead of going to her house in Piedmont. See if she can give us some answers over the phone. We won’t be able to see her body language, so it’s far from ideal, but—”

  “You want to do it anyway,” I finished.

  “Yeah. I kind of do.”

  “Okay, but I should be the one to call her.” I pulled my phone out of my purse, realizing my call with Marco had been disconnected. “Did your friend Darren give you a phone number too? Because if not, I can try to get it out of Molly.” Although I doubted Molly would be very cooperative.
r />   “I can save you from that conversation. He had her number too.”

  I punched the numbers into my phone as he read them off. “So just keep the questions on the fact-gathering side, then turn more personal if it feels appropriate?”

  The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Look at you becomin’ a pro at this.”

  “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

  His mood turned serious. “Yeah.”

  I took a deep, centering breath, then pressed send and put the call on speaker.

  A woman answered with “Hello?” on the third ring, and my heart leapt into my throat.

  “May?”

  “Yes…” she said hesitantly.

  “Hi, this is Carly Moore. I’m sure you don’t know me, but—”

  “Oh, I know who you are. You work with Molly at Max’s Tavern. She says you’ve been nice to her.”

  I had to wonder what she’d have to say about me after our shift today.

  “Molly’s been great,” I said.

  “But I know why you’re callin’,” she said, her tone becoming more cautious. “Mitzi called me yesterday.”

  Marco’s eyes widened.

  “Honestly,” she continued, “I’ve been expectin’ to hear from you. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “We can meet somewhere, if you’d prefer. It’s just not a good idea to meet at your house.”

  “Paul found out, didn’t he?” she asked wearily.

  “I tried to be careful, so I found Mitzi at the grocery store and asked her some questions there.”

  “That was a good idea,” she said, “because Paul is likely watchin’ her every move. He’s a controllin’ bastard.”

  “He showed up at the grocery store.”

  “Not surprisin’. He likes to check up on her to make sure she’s behavin’, like she’s a toddler who’s incapable of taking care of herself.” She paused before adding, “I’d rather talk on the phone.”