Page 5

I stopped by Dominic’s home, hoping he was there so we could talk. I noted two sedans in the driveway—a Maserati and a much older sedan that had seen better days. Based on the upscale neighborhood, one of them didn’t belong.

I rang the doorbell, and a woman with long, blond, bouffant hair and a big smile came to the door. She was dressed in a fitted red dress which was a bit too small, but it did a perfect job of accentuating her every curve.

She gave me a once-over, pointing at my black-and-cream, drop-waist dress as she said, “Vintage. I like it.”

I considered returning the compliment, but given I didn’t share the same fervor for her dress as she did mine, I did not.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m here to see Dominic.”

“He’s not in the best of moods. Does he know you’re coming?”

“He will in a minute.”

She stood a moment, saying nothing.

“Who are you, and how do you know Dominic?” I asked.

“Who are you, and how do you know him?”

“I’m Georgiana Germaine. I’m investigating his wife’s murder.”

She moved a hand to her hip. “Huh, I met the detective working on her case. He didn’t mention he had a partner.”

“I don’t work for the police department. I’m a private investigator.”

“Someone hired you?”

I nodded. “Zoey Morgan.”

“Ahh, figures. Sounds like something she would do.”

“You still haven’t told me who you are,” I said, “or what you’re doing here, or why you came to the door instead of Dominic when it’s his house.”

“I’m Lenore, and he asked me to see who was at the door, so I did.”

“Lenore Whittaker? Lucas is your ex-boyfriend, right?”

“Wow, you know your stuff, don’t ya? I guess you would, given you’re a private detective and all.”

“I heard you were still friends with Lucas, but what are you doing here, at Dominic’s house?”

“I ... well, I was thinking about him today, wondering how he was holding up. I feel just awful about what happened to his wife, and I decided to bring him and the little one a casserole, something they can heat up for dinner tonight. I didn’t make it, of course. It’s store bought, but we can keep that little tidbit between us.”

“I wasn’t aware you and Dominic knew each other.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, we don’t, not well. We met the night of the engagement party.”

“You were standing by the stairs when the power went out.”

“I was, and I’ll tell you the same thing I told the cute older detective I talked to the other day—no one went up or down the stairs while the lights were out.”

“I imagine everyone was talking during that time, trying to figure out when the power would come back on again. Maybe try to find some candles ...”

“They were.”

“In all the chaos, how can you be sure someone didn’t slip by you?”

She gritted her teeth. “I’m telling you, they didn’t.”

From down the hall, a male voice shouted, “Lenore, are you still here? Who’s at the door?”

“I sure am,” she said. “I’m having a little chat with a private detective. She wants to talk to you.”

“Tell her I’m not up to having visitors today.”

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” I shouted. “But if we don’t talk now, I’ll keep coming back until we do. I’ve been hired to investigate your wife’s murder. I just have a few questions. It won’t take long.”

“Wait here,” Lenore said. “Let me go talk to him.”

She turned and started down the hall.

I followed.

A few seconds later, she glanced over her shoulder, unimpressed.

“I told you to wait at the door,” she said.

“I know, I heard you.”

“Are you always this pushy?”

“I wouldn’t use the word pushy . Determined is a much better word. In cases like this one, time is everything, and I don’t have a moment to waste.”

She shrugged. “Guess I see your point. Don’t know if he’ll talk to you, though.”

She spoke about Dominic as if she knew him a lot better than she claimed.

Her snug dress made a lot more sense to me now. Looking around as we headed toward Dominic, at the house, the furnishings, and the elaborate safe I saw when I passed by the sitting room, Dominic had money—and plenty of it.

He was a widower.

She was single, and, I suspected, looking to mingle.

The casserole she’d brought had gained her entry into the house.

Well played, for a little strumpet.

Strumpet.

Perhaps I was being too hard on her, too judgmental. I knew little of her, and yet I’d already labeled her.

We found Dominic in the kitchen. He had a robe wrapped around him that wasn’t tied, exposing a white tank top and boxer shorts beneath. His thick, salt-and-pepper hair was disheveled, and he was hunched over a bowl of cereal. He didn’t look up when I sat across from him at the table. He just kept on eating, pretending like I wasn’t there.

“My name is?—”

He raised a hand, stopping me. “I know who you are. Zoey left me a message this morning, her third so far today.”

“She told me you haven’t spoken to her much since Noelle died.”

He glanced down, noticing his open robe, and he tightened it around himself. “Haven’t spoken to most people. Zoey never stops talking, you know? She’s one of those high-energy types. You can only be around them for so long before you need a break. I’m not saying she’s a bad person. She’s great. She was a good friend to Noelle.”

“She did seem to be a bit on the impatient side when we met, and I want you to know I’m not here to add to your stress.”

“Sure you are.”

“I’m trying to figure out who killed your wife and why as soon as I can.”

“Catching the bastard won’t bring her back. She’s lost to me now ... lost to me forever.” Tears pooled in his eyes, and he closed them, wiping the tears away. “I think about that night all the time. I dream about it even. How could I be so close and not know what was happening to her? I could have saved her, and I didn’t.”

“You weren’t aware she was in danger. If you did, I have no doubt you would have done everything in your power to save her.”

He looked up at me for the first time, staring into my eyes, while fighting back more tears. Then he slid off the chair and took his bowl to the sink.

“Is your daughter here?” I asked.

“She’s with Noelle’s mother for a few days. I want her here, with me ... it’s just, I’m not the father she needs right now. Feels like I’m falling apart, and I don’t want her to see me like that.”

“It’s understandable. How’s she doing?”

Lenore, who had been standing a few feet away, leaned in as if anxious to hear his response, something he seemed to pick up on.

“Hey Lenore, I appreciate the casserole and your offer to help out around here, but I think I’d like to speak to the detective alone.”

She did not seem thrilled with the comment.

Her expression soured, and she looked away, clearing her throat as she said, “Uh, yeah, okay. I get it. You, uhh, you let me know if there’s anything I can do.”