Drop Dead Sexy(35)

“Do you think it could have been Randy’s sexual proclivities that led to his murder?” Catcher questioned.

“No. Most of the people he was with were peaceful, loving people. Like myself, many were Buddhists who wouldn’t believe in hurting a fly, least of all Randy.”

“What about a non-peaceful person who was perhaps jealous of Randy’s endowments?” Catcher suggested.

Patricia smiled. “While that could have been possible, I would seriously doubt it. Although he caused quite a stir when he first came here, people got used to seeing King and Kong.” Patricia turned to me. “You know as well as I do what a sweet, personable man Randy was.”

I nodded. “Yes, he was. It’s hard for me to imagine anyone would want to kill him.”

Catcher cocked his brows. “And you’re sure he was completely honest with you about his sex life after the two of you broke up?”

“Even when I remarried, Randy and I were never truly apart. Although I remained physically faithful to my husband, I was emotionally unfaithful. Because of our relationship, I know without a doubt that he wasn’t involved in something sexual I didn’t know about.”

“Can you think of anyone who might’ve had it out for him enough to want kill him?” Catcher asked.

Patricia nibbled on her bottom lip. I could tell immediately that while she might’ve had an idea, she was hesitant to say. Since I knew she loved Randy and wanted his killer found, I had to assume she was holding back out of fear.

“In many ways, Randy was the mild-mannered pharmacist who enjoyed singing in the church choir. It wasn’t just a clever fa?ade he concocted to hide his other side. It’s just that his wild side was much more dominant. In fact, it often even bled into his professional life.”

Catcher’s dark brows knitted together. “How so?”

“Although Randy did well as a pharmacist, it didn’t totally fund his lifestyle. He loved traveling to exotic locations like Bali and Tahiti. He started using his chemist skills with other avenues.”

“Are you trying to say that Randy was selling drugs?” I asked.

“In a roundabout way, yes. But it wasn’t anything like cocaine or meth. It was his own…concoctions.”

“Concoctions?” Catcher and I both questioned in unison.

“He didn’t like to tell me all that he delved in. By keeping me in the dark, he felt he could keep me clean in case there was any blowback.”

“He was that worried about his safety?” I inquired.

“You must not have gotten a good look at his house. That place is armed like Fort Knox.”

“I did notice the extensive security cameras and door locks,” Catcher said

“His need for excellent security was in part because of what he was into as well as how he was running away from his past. That’s why he chose Taylorsville—he needed a small town to disappear in.”

“So he had been making ‘concoctions’ for quite a number of years?”

“Yes. He had. Apparently, one of them went horribly wrong, and he had to disappear.”

Catcher and I exchanged a glance. The fact that Randy was hiding out from someone meant a huge deal to the case. “He never told you any of the specifics about why he relocated to Taylorsville?” Catcher inquired.

Patricia shook her head. “It was one of the few secrets he kept from me. I think he felt it was protecting me in some way.”

“Do you have any names you could give us who were clients of Randy’s?”

“Zeke Chester. He’s a deacon at the Full Zion Church.”

Catcher’s brows shot up in surprise. “Randy had a holy man on his client list?”

“I don’t know many of the details. I walked in on a conversation a few months ago. Randy wouldn’t tell me anything more than he had been working on something for Zeke to be used in his brother, Ezra’s, services.”

Catcher scribbled his name down in his notebook. “Do you know anything else about this Zeke Chester besides he was a customer of Randy’s?”

“Just that his brother has gained quite a following to his Friday and Saturday night tent revivals.”

“You know a location of those tent revivals.”

“Randy said they were forty-five minutes from here over in Dawson County.”

Catcher nodded and then glanced up from his pad. “I appreciate you speaking with us, Patricia. If you remember anything else about Randy’s concoction business, please let me know.” He then reached into his suit pocket and produced a business card that he gave to Patricia.

I leaned forward on the sofa. “Before we go, I have to ask about Randy’s next of kin. Do you know anything about his family?”

“He was an adult orphan—his dad died when he was seventeen, and his mother when he was twenty-three. His older sister lives in Tennessee, but they rarely saw each other. His family became our circle of friends.”

“I see. Do you know if he had a will?”

Patricia nodded. “Yes. I have a copy of it at the condo somewhere. I’m the executor of his estate.”

“Oh good. I was hoping he had left instructions of what he wanted when he passed away.”

“Yes. It’s all there from being cremated to having the service here at Bare Haven’s chapel.