A High-End Finish(20)
“He was notorious,” Sean said. “Ask anyone.”
“Married women, too?”
“Well, there’s Mrs. Boyer,” Sean said, as if that settled it.
“Sounds like everyone in town knew he was a player.” Everyone but me, obviously. And Lizzie.
“A lot of guys knew,” Billy said.
Sean nodded. “Mainly because he liked to brag about it at the pub.”
“Yeah, he kind of had a big mouth,” Billy said.
Sean snorted. “’Cuz he was kind of a big ass.”
“Did you ever hear of anyone claiming that he hurt them physically?”
Sean looked uncomfortable. “Well, it’s not like I’m definitely pointing the finger at Saxton, but Luisa showed up with a black eye once. She said she fell down.”
It didn’t take much of a leap to conclude that Jerry had given Luisa that black eye, but it was too late now for the police to do anything about it. I would love to talk to Luisa about it, though. And while I doubted she would ever hurt a fly, I was putting her on my personal suspect list.
Luisa was a real softie, so it was a long shot. In fact, I almost smiled at the picture of her bashing Jerry over the head with a pipe wrench. She’d barely be able to lift the thing. But Jerry might’ve pushed her to the limit.
And if Luisa hadn’t been pushed that far, perhaps her two brothers or her protective father had been.
As I was leaving, three more of my crew drove up. I rolled down my window to let them know that I’d see them all later in the week. As I drove off, I made a mental note to run by Luisa’s place sometime this week and catch up with her.
Billy’s words circled through my mind. He’d sworn that Jerry had a big mouth and was always bragging about his conquests. But if that were true, why would Lizzie have ever set me up with him? I couldn’t believe she’d never heard the rumors. She knew this town as well as I did. On the other hand, Lizzie and Hal rarely hung out in the pub, where they might hear the stories. Their lives revolved around their kids. I didn’t have that excuse and I’d never heard the rumors either, so who was I to talk?
So, how did Lizzie meet Jerry? And why had she set me up with him? Someone must have suggested him as a good date possibility, probably because, sadly, Lizzie was always in the market for new and interesting men to match up with her girlfriends. But who in the world would recommend Jerry?
It was time to ask Lizzie that question. I also knew I would have to tell Chief Jensen what I’d heard about Mrs. Boyer. Is he already aware of Jerry Saxton’s affair with her? I wondered. I hated the idea of being a snitch, but why should I be the only person on his suspect list? It wasn’t fair.
A few minutes later, I pulled up in front of Paper Moon, Lizzie and Hal’s bookshop on the square. I almost hated to walk inside because I never walked out without buying something fabulous. The shop was filled with books and beautiful cards and paper items and unusual gifts. But I was on a mission.
The store wasn’t open yet, but I knew Lizzie would be working in the back office. It was quieter here than at home, where Hal would be getting their two kids ready for school. She always did her paperwork and bills here in the mornings.
I walked down the passageway between two shops and found the back entrance.
“Knock, knock,” I shouted as I rapped loudly on the door.
Moments later, Lizzie called out, “Who’s there?”
“It’s Shannon.”
She opened the door to let me in and quickly locked it behind us. Not that our tiny town was dangerous or anything—Jerry Saxton’s murder notwithstanding—but Lizzie loved locks. She was our safety girl and liked to lecture us on personal safety. She knew every type of locking mechanism known to man and probably could have gotten a job at Fort Knox.
“What are you doing here?” she asked over her shoulder as she led the way back to her small office. “Not that it’s not wonderful to see you.”
Today Lizzie wore a simple outfit of mossy green jeans and a matching sweater. I knew she thought the one-color scheme made her appear taller, but she still looked like a perky elf with attitude. Not that she didn’t look clean and classy and ready for business. She did, as always. I was the perfect contrast to her in old work boots with thick socks, jeans, and a flannel shirt over a faded blue thermal henley. In my defense, I was dressed for business, too. Just a different kind of business.
Lizzie poured a cup of coffee with cream for me and we both sat.
“I’m so sorry,” she began, and I saw that her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “He was a horrible man and it’s my fault that he hurt you, and now he’s dead. And I’m glad, damn it. Now that I’ve said it out loud, I don’t care if anyone knows how I feel. Nobody hurts my friend and gets away with it.”
I frowned at her. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
Her look of shock was priceless. “Good God, no. Did you?”
“No.” I laughed, grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “So no more apologies from either of us. It’s not your fault that he attacked me. I know your heart was in the right place when you set us up and I know you’d never do anything to hurt me. That’s not why I’m here.”
“All right, okay. I just felt so bad about your horrible date.” She brushed at her eyes and sniffled once. “And then when I heard that he was dead, wow.” Her face contorted in dismay.