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Authors: Karen E. Olson
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he said softly, “She’s my ex-wife.”
Chapter 12
Jeff swore he didn’t even know she was in town. They’d been divorced for three years.
“She was living out in L.A. Went upscale after we split, got mixed up with celebrity life,” he said. “Heard she might be getting married again.”
“When did you hear that?”
Jeff was on his third cigarette. “Not long ago.”
“Who’d you hear from?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got my ear to the ground.”
I wasn’t going to get anywhere with that. “She looks young,” I said.
Jeff gave me a wan smile. “Younger than me, right, Kavanaugh? Sure, she was twenty-two when we hooked up. We were married five years. You do the math.”
The look on my face elicited a smirk.
“You’re wondering what she was doing with me.”
I was, but I tried to be nonchalant. “None of my business.”
“I pulled her out of a hole. She was a mess when we met—drugs, hooking. I helped her; she straightened out.” He paused, took another drag on his butt. “And then she left.”
Interesting.
“Did you do the tat on her neck?”
The question threw him. He was still trying to digest the fact that Kelly was dead. “The eagle, you mean?”
“Yeah,” I said, like I’d seen more of it than just the corner in the picture on my cell phone.
He nodded.
“Did you do another one like it?”
“What?”
“Have you done others like it?”
Jeff frowned, not knowing where I was going with this. “I don’t see how it matters, does it?”
I couldn’t get the image of that big guy out of my head. “Might, might not,” I said, hopefully with enough mystery in my voice so he’d think it really was relevant.
“Sure, I’ve done the eagle at least a dozen times. Probably more.”
“How about a big guy, at least six-four, looks like a biker, shaved head? He’s got a face full of tats.”
It was the second time I’d rocked Jeff’s world. He caught his breath, the smoke moving slowly out through his nose as he pulled the cigarette from his lips.
“What does Kelly’s brother have to do with this?”
Her brother? Why would Kelly’s brother be following me at the mall and watching my shop?
“Did he have something to do with Kelly’s death?” Jeff asked.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t know.”
Jeff suddenly caught wind that I might be asking questions I shouldn’t.
“Cops don’t know about me, do they?” he asked.
“I just found your address on the paper a couple hours ago. I haven’t told anyone.” I paused. “You don’t have any reason not to want the cops to come around, do you? Because they’ll probably find out you’re Kelly’s ex-husband. That’s their job.”
“You really didn’t know?” Jeff took another drag off the cigarette.
“No. I was just looking for a connection with Elise Lyon.”
As I said it, I realized I’d found another connection between the two women. The first was that Elise was using Kelly’s name; the second was Jeff Coleman’s shop, if not Jeff himself.
“So you never saw Elise Lyon here?”
Jeff took a deep breath. “No.”
“Did Kelly ever mention a friend named Elise?”
“You think Kelly knew her?”
I shrugged.
The Star Trek kid poked his head out the door.
“Jeff?” The booze was starting to wear off; I recognized the weariness in his voice.
“Be right there, Scottie.” The door shut again.
Jeff tossed the butt into the street, and we watched the glow from its tip for a second before he said, “Listen, Kavanaugh, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to your cop brother about me. They’ll figure it out eventually, but I’d rather it was later rather than sooner.”
“Why?” I blurted it out before I could stop myself.
Jeff chuckled. “Kelly and I didn’t have the most friendly of divorces. But I really didn’t know she was in town, and I didn’t have anything to do with her murder. The cops will think I did. Ex-husband, always the first suspect.”
He had a point, but
Chapter 12
Jeff swore he didn’t even know she was in town. They’d been divorced for three years.
“She was living out in L.A. Went upscale after we split, got mixed up with celebrity life,” he said. “Heard she might be getting married again.”
“When did you hear that?”
Jeff was on his third cigarette. “Not long ago.”
“Who’d you hear from?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got my ear to the ground.”
I wasn’t going to get anywhere with that. “She looks young,” I said.
Jeff gave me a wan smile. “Younger than me, right, Kavanaugh? Sure, she was twenty-two when we hooked up. We were married five years. You do the math.”
The look on my face elicited a smirk.
“You’re wondering what she was doing with me.”
I was, but I tried to be nonchalant. “None of my business.”
“I pulled her out of a hole. She was a mess when we met—drugs, hooking. I helped her; she straightened out.” He paused, took another drag on his butt. “And then she left.”
Interesting.
“Did you do the tat on her neck?”
The question threw him. He was still trying to digest the fact that Kelly was dead. “The eagle, you mean?”
“Yeah,” I said, like I’d seen more of it than just the corner in the picture on my cell phone.
He nodded.
“Did you do another one like it?”
“What?”
“Have you done others like it?”
Jeff frowned, not knowing where I was going with this. “I don’t see how it matters, does it?”
I couldn’t get the image of that big guy out of my head. “Might, might not,” I said, hopefully with enough mystery in my voice so he’d think it really was relevant.
“Sure, I’ve done the eagle at least a dozen times. Probably more.”
“How about a big guy, at least six-four, looks like a biker, shaved head? He’s got a face full of tats.”
It was the second time I’d rocked Jeff’s world. He caught his breath, the smoke moving slowly out through his nose as he pulled the cigarette from his lips.
“What does Kelly’s brother have to do with this?”
Her brother? Why would Kelly’s brother be following me at the mall and watching my shop?
“Did he have something to do with Kelly’s death?” Jeff asked.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t know.”
Jeff suddenly caught wind that I might be asking questions I shouldn’t.
“Cops don’t know about me, do they?” he asked.
“I just found your address on the paper a couple hours ago. I haven’t told anyone.” I paused. “You don’t have any reason not to want the cops to come around, do you? Because they’ll probably find out you’re Kelly’s ex-husband. That’s their job.”
“You really didn’t know?” Jeff took another drag off the cigarette.
“No. I was just looking for a connection with Elise Lyon.”
As I said it, I realized I’d found another connection between the two women. The first was that Elise was using Kelly’s name; the second was Jeff Coleman’s shop, if not Jeff himself.
“So you never saw Elise Lyon here?”
Jeff took a deep breath. “No.”
“Did Kelly ever mention a friend named Elise?”
“You think Kelly knew her?”
I shrugged.
The Star Trek kid poked his head out the door.
“Jeff?” The booze was starting to wear off; I recognized the weariness in his voice.
“Be right there, Scottie.” The door shut again.
Jeff tossed the butt into the street, and we watched the glow from its tip for a second before he said, “Listen, Kavanaugh, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to your cop brother about me. They’ll figure it out eventually, but I’d rather it was later rather than sooner.”
“Why?” I blurted it out before I could stop myself.
Jeff chuckled. “Kelly and I didn’t have the most friendly of divorces. But I really didn’t know she was in town, and I didn’t have anything to do with her murder. The cops will think I did. Ex-husband, always the first suspect.”
He had a point, but
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