Page 21 of Little Dark Deeds (Georgiana Germaine #12)

I was sitting on a chair on my back balcony, sipping on a glass of prosecco as I talked with Foley and Whitlock about my day. Draped over my feet was Luka, who seemed happy and content to have me home.

“You’ve been busy today,” Foley said.

“So have the two of you,” I replied. “And from the sounds of it, we talked to a few of the same people. How are we feeling about Jordan, Tyler, and Jana?”

Whitlock glanced at Foley and then at me. “I think there’s something to your suspicion that the husband and wife got together after Tiffany was murdered to discuss what they were going to say to us. Seems a bit strange though, if they’re innocent.”

“Jana knew it wouldn’t take long for us to find out about Tyler’s indiscretion and consider him a suspect,” I said.

“And Tyler strikes me as the kind of person who blurts things out when he’s cornered, says things he maybe shouldn’t say but does anyway.

Jana must know this about him, so I can see her talking to him about what he’d say when he was questioned. ”

“After what he did, I’m surprised she’s considering taking him back,” Whitlock said.

“I’m a little surprised too. She comes across as tough and confident—someone who doesn’t take any nonsense—but maybe it’s all a facade.”

Foley shrugged. “Maybe.”

“We can all agree they’re still suspects,” I said. “On another note, what did you think of Tiffany’s neighbors, the older ladies?”

“They’re a funny bunch,” Whitlock said. “I found them to be enjoyable. If we wouldn’t have had other places to be, I could have talked to those gals for hours.”

With a subtle lift of his brow, Foley made his disapproval known. “Not sure I found them as witty as you did. Meddling seems like a more appropriate word.”

“They may meddle, but they sure know a lot,” I said. “Did they talk to you about the other guy Tiffany was seeing, the one before Tyler?”

“They did not.”

“As soon as they described him to me, I knew they were talking about Chad. He’s a salesman at Willow Roost, a furniture store in San Luis Obispo. Tiffany had dated him once before. I talked to him today, and he told me they started up a second time ... before Tiffany met Tyler.”

“What’s the skinny on the guy?” Whitlock asked. “Fun fact, which is unrelated but fun, the term ‘the skinny’ was American military slang originating in the ’40s, during World War II. It means ‘What’s the news,’ or ‘What’s the information,’ or in today’s slang, ‘Spill the beans.’”

And I had plenty of beans to spill.

“Tiffany never told me about dating Chad a second time.”

Foley leaned back, adjusting his tie. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“I didn’t approve of him the first time they dated, and I guess she decided to hold off on saying anything when they picked back up again.”

“Why didn’t you approve?”

I took another sip of my prosecco, setting the glass down as I prepared my confession. “I thought Chad wasn’t good enough for her. I may have been wrong about that, and I’ve been dwelling on it all evening.”

“Aww, I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself,” Foley said. “She was a big girl. She made her own decisions. What else can you tell us about round two with Chad?”

“Chad thought things were going well the second time around, and then she met Tyler, and she ... well, dropped him to pursue Tyler.”

Foley slapped his knee. “Sounds like motive for murder to me. What’s your take on the guy?”

“He admitted the breakup was harder on him the second time than the first. And sure, he had motive. I’m just not sure he has the temperament to commit murder, though. He seems too soft.”

“So did Jeffrey Dahmer. People described him as quiet and polite. And yeah, the guy was socially awkward, so much so that people didn’t see him as threatening.”

“And then when that kid escaped in ’91, cops found out Dahmer had murdered seventeen people,” Whitlock added.

I sighed. “I get it. I didn’t say I’d ruled him out yet. The fact is, we have several people to focus on right now.”

“We weren’t trying to give you a hard time,” Whitlock said.

“I know.”

Foley’s cell phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and turned toward us, saying, “Be right back.”

He went inside the house, returning less than a minute later.

“That was fast,” I said.

“It was your sister, Phoebe. I’m late for dinner.”

“I’m sure she understands.”

“Of course she does. She’s far more understanding than she should be. Still, we should wrap up and reconvene later.”

“Before you go, there’s something I haven’t mentioned yet, or rather, someone. I’ll be right back.”

I walked to my bedroom, lifted my handbag off the doorknob, and met them both in the kitchen. I placed the bag on the counter, pulling out the envelope inside.

“What do you have there?” Foley asked.

“It just might be the best piece of information I’ve received all day. When I visited Jana, she was standoffish at first, but by the end of our conversation, she came around. I asked her how she knew about Tyler’s affair. Turns out, someone left this envelope under one of her windshield wipers.”

“What’s in the envelope?” Whitlock asked.

“Photos of Tiffany and Tyler—photos proving he was having an affair.”

“Any idea who left them on her car?”

“Queenie said she saw a man taking photos of the two of them across the street from Tiffany’s house one night,” I said. “He drove a black truck. She didn’t get a good look at him.”

“It’s a start,” Foley said.

“Also, in terms of suspects, there was a divorce case Tiffany was working on several months ago that just wrapped up a few weeks ago. I remember the case. We talked about it a few times. It was hard on her, but she did end up winning the case. Her client’s husband didn’t take the loss well.

According to Chad, he confronted Tiffany and threatened to ruin her life. ”

Foley and Whitlock nodded, exchanging worrisome glances.

“How long ago?” Foley asked.

“It was after the case came to an end, so it hasn’t been long.

It’s something to consider, though. If this disgruntled man wanted payback, a good place to start is by alerting Jana to the fact her husband was cheating.

It would have blown up Tiffany’s world, to find out the man she knew and loved had been lying to her all along. ”

“Do you have a name?”

“I will tomorrow. Once you’ve looked them over, will you pass them on to Silas?”

Foley reached for the envelope and nodded. “I will, though I’m not sure what kind of forensic magic Silas can glean from them.”

“He can lift prints, if there are any. Several years back, before you were the chief of police, and I was still a detective working for the department, Silas worked a case where he managed to lift a partial off an envelope.”

Paper was delicate to work with, but it could be done.

The best way was with ninhydrin, which reacts with amino acids in the fingerprint residue, producing a purplish-blue print, called Ruhemann’s purple.

Then it’s sprayed or brushed on the paper.

After the paper dries, heat is applied. If there are viable fingerprints, ones that aren’t smeared or too small to make out, Silas would be able to see them as soon as a few hours following treatment.

“You said ‘as soon as ...’ I’m assuming it could take longer?”

“It could take a few days. I don’t even know if it will work. There are other ways he can test too. If he goes with the ninhydrin method, the paper can’t be reused for other tests. The good thing is, we have several pictures to test.”

“You’re saying he can test them in a variety of ways, right?” Whitlock asked.

“He can, and knowing Silas, he will. Give him the photos. He’ll know what to do.”