Page 24 of Little Dark Deeds (Georgiana Germaine #12)

A s I drove to my office , I thought about the conversation I’d just had with Everett.

I considered the fact that Landon may have hired a private investigator to follow Tiffany around, gathering information about her private life.

If so, I imagined he was pleased to know he had the upper hand at last, a way to strip away the illusion—the man she loved wasn’t who he seemed.

If Landon had learned of Tyler’s affair, I didn’t believe he would have left the photos on Jana’s windshield for her to find.

It seemed too petty for a man who thought so much of himself.

I believe he would have gone straight to Tiffany to deliver the news himself, relishing the look on her face when he did it.

And then there was Tiffany’s threat, which Landon could have brushed off as nothing more than a lie, a way for her to appear tough and connected when she wasn’t.

I had too many questions and not enough answers.

I needed an audience with him right away.

I arrived at the office and walked inside, finding Hunter and Simone hunched over the computer, giggling. Hunter was dressed in a pair of brown corduroy overalls, which matched the color of her braids. Simone was wearing a black blazer over an Erasure T-shirt and dark jeans.

“I could use a good laugh today,” I said. “What’s so funny?”

“We’re watching cat videos,” Simone said.

“Montages of cats who knock things off countertops on purpose,” Hunter added.

“Sounds like a far more relaxing way to spend the day than what my day has been like,” I said. “Shall we talk about the case?”

Simone shot me a wink. “We shall.”

We gathered around the sofa, and for the next several minutes, I filled them in on where I’d been and who I’d seen since the last time we spoke.

After I finished, Simone said, “Having met Queenie yesterday, I’m not surprised to hear that she showed up at the coffee shop this morning.”

“I feel like she’s everywhere.”

“I think I know why,” Simone said. “Most of the people I talked to in Tiffany’s neighborhood think Queenie’s taken on an amateur sleuth role, doing a little investigating on her own.

She’s been to all their houses, taking notes, asking questions.

She’s even telling people she’s going to solve the investigation before anyone else. ”

“Is she now? She didn’t mention that to me. What else did the neighbors have to say?”

“Aside from Queenie, Martha, and Janice, most of them didn’t know Tiffany well. They saw her at a few of the neighborhood block parties, which Queenie puts together. Well, she was putting them together. Not sure they’ll be well attended in the future.”

“Has something happened?”

“Many of the neighbors are convinced Queenie hosts the block parties to call them out on things.”

“Like what?”

“Having weedy lawns, keeping the trash can out days after trash day, making too much noise after the sun’s gone down. They’re getting tired of it.”

“Tired or not, I bet she gets her way most of the time. She seems relentless. Did you learn anything useful when you met with Tiffany’s neighbors?”

Simone pulled out her notebook and flipped a few pages, looking over her notes. “There was only one person who may have heard something around the time of the murder, a little girl. She lives in the house to the right of Tiffany’s.”

I leaned closer, resting my elbows on my knees. “Tell me about it.”

“Her name is Layla. She was playing outside in the back yard, and she’s sure she heard a woman scream. As soon as she heard it, she went inside and told her mother, Chelsea.”

“What did Chelsea do?”

“You’re not going to like the answer. She went to the front yard, and when she didn’t hear anyone screaming, she figured Layla was mistaken.”

“Chelsea didn’t even bother to check and see if Tiffany was okay?”

“She did not. Her baby was sleeping, and she didn’t want to leave the kids alone.”

“She couldn’t be bothered to step away for one minute to go next door and check on her neighbor?”

“I get what you’re saying,” Simone said. “When I was talking to Chelsea, she seemed a bit frazzled. She has two kids and is pregnant with her third. If the baby wasn’t crying, Layla was asking for something. The woman looks like she could use a break.”

“Given she lived right next door, did she know Tiffany at all?”

“Not well. They’d just moved into the neighborhood a month ago.

She said the first day, Tiffany came over on move-in day and offered to help them unpack, but Chelsea’s husband declined the offer.

Hours later, when they were still pulling boxes out of the van, Tiffany brought over a pizza, so they wouldn’t have to worry about dinner. ”

It was just like Tiffany, always putting the lives of others over her own.

“Did Tiffany and Chelsea talk since then?” I asked.

“Not much.”

“So, Tiffany takes the time to offer her help, and even takes them dinner, but Chelsea couldn’t spare one minute to dig a little deeper about a scream she’d heard?”

Simone shrugged. “I understand how you feel. I’m just telling you what she told me.”

“I know you are. I just ... nowadays people don’t check on their neighbors the way they used to do it seems. It’s a shame.”

“I don’t know any of my neighbors,” Hunter chimed in. “Couldn’t tell you a single one of their names. And that’s how I like it.”

“If you heard someone scream, you wouldn’t investigate?” I asked.

“A scream could mean anything. Could be the neighbor is watching a movie or playing a video game. Or ... you know, getting busy.”

Maybe I was the odd one out, the person who couldn’t hear a sound like that and let it go. I’d need to know, to be certain everything was all right.

I wasn’t sure why Chelsea’s decision not to check on Tiffany irked me so much. I doubted it would have changed the outcome. If she had gone over to Tiffany’s house, there was a big possibility she would have put herself in danger, and maybe even her children.

Switching topics, I turned toward Hunter. “I know I asked you to look into Tiffany’s recent clients, but there’s only one person I’d like to focus on today—

Landon Fairfax, the soon-to-be ex-husband of Rylie Fairfax, Tiffany’s recent client. Have you learned anything about him?”

“I know more about Rylie than I do about Landon. They got married when they were thirty, and now they’re in their mid-forties. Landon comes from money. Lots of it. His great-grandfather was a railroad baron. The family’s worth billions.”

“And Rylie? What’s her background?”

“She grew up in a middle-class family. They weren’t poor, but they weren’t well off, either.”

“Where did Landon and Rylie meet?”

“I found an article written a few years ago, talked about how Landon met Rylie at a restaurant when he was in college. She was his waitress.”

“I’ll bet his parents didn’t approve of the match.”

“I’m sure you’re right. Even if they didn’t give their blessing, he still married her.”

“Did they have any kids?”

“Nope. When I was searching online, I came across his Instagram profile. From the looks of it, Landon traded her in.”

“For a younger model?” Simone asked.

“For an older one. He tagged this new woman in a bunch of photos, so then I started looking into her, because ... well, I just find the entire family so intriguing. The new lady in his life is Vivienne Carrington, and she’s in her late fifties.”

If Landon’s family had enormous wealth, I wondered why he cared so much about coming out on the losing end of the divorce case. Then again, I didn’t know the amount they’d settled on.

“Do we know how much Rylie got in the divorce?” I asked.

“What she asked for: three million dollars.”

Simone and I exchanged glances.

“From a billionaire?” I asked. “That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“Three million is a drop in the bucket for his family. Why so little?”

“I don’t know. She asked for three million and to have her attorney fees paid.”

It didn’t make sense.

Why would Landon go to the trouble of threatening Tiffany over what seemed like such a small sum in comparison to his overall worth?

And why did he tell Tiffany his life was ruined?

Hunter lifted a finger. “Oh, I almost forgot. Rylie did ask for one other thing in the settlement. She wanted custody of their dog, Duchess, and she got it.”

The dog.

Now there was something.

If Landon had a strong attachment, he may have been infuriated by the court’s decision to give custody to Rylie.

As I pondered that thought, my phone rang.

I didn’t recognize the number.

“Excuse me a moment,” I said.

I answered the call as I walked toward my office. Before I even had the chance to get a word out, a high-pitched voice began shouting into the phone.

“Slow down,” I said. “Who is this?”

“Janice.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Queenie. You need to come. You need to come now.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

I heard what sounded like wailing, followed by, “She’s ... she’s dead .”

I stood there in shock, hearing her words but being unable to take them in.

Not three hours ago, I’d seen Queenie. I’d talked to her.

To be told she was dead was almost inconceivable.

“Where are you?” I asked. “And what happened?”

“I ... we’re ...”

The call disconnected, and I hunched over my desk, burying my head in my hands as Simone and Hunter rushed to my side.

“What’s going on?” Simone asked.

I looked up, shaking my head as a thought came to mind. “It’s Queenie. I’m sorry to say she won’t be solving the case before we do.”

“Why not?”

“Turns out, she’s dead.”