Dirty Little Secrets (Romantic Mystery) Book 1 in the J.J. Graves Series (10 page)

Jack made it more of a statement than a question, and the doctor opted to stay silent, which was probably the smartest thing he’d done since we walked in the office.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Hides,” I said, “But I just find it hard to believe that this woman was your patient for that long and you didn’t speak about the most obvious topic. Why was she coming to you at all if it wasn’t to help with the abuse?”

“I think Fiona was more lonely than anything,” he said, carefully. “She’d married young, too young, and found that she didn’t love the man she’d made vows to. And the vows were important to Fiona. She didn’t want to break them.”

“But she did,” I interrupted. “She’d gotten the courage to leave him the night she was murdered.”

The surprised look on the doctor’s face was the first genuine emotion I’d seen. “I take it by your surprise that she didn’t mention at her Thursday morning appointment that she was packing her bags and heading to Florida to live with her sister?”

“No, no, I don’t believe you. She’d tell me if she was going to make a change that drastic.” The doctor was perspiring just slightly above his upper lip.

“I’m sorry Dr. Hides, but it’s true,” Jack said. “Did you have a personal relationship with the victim?”

“Of course not. That wouldn’t be ethical.”

Dr. Hides’ skin held a pallor that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. His mouth was pinched, and I his pulse beat rapidly in his neck. Once again, he was lying, I thought. But why? Surely if Fiona had been involved with more than one man sexually, one of those men would have mentioned the bruises.

“What about her moods? Did she exhibit extreme highs or lows in behavior? Depression? Did she feel safe?”

“You’re skirting the line, Sheriff. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for that warrant.”
“Can you give us your whereabouts for Thursday night between the hours of seven and midnight?”

The shock wore off quickly and Dr. Hides was back to being himself. I was sure the break in his composure wasn’t something that happened very often. Dr. Hides was a man of utmost control.

“I resent the implication that I had anything to do with Fiona’s death, and I’d like to call my attorney if you keep on with this avenue of questioning.”

“You’re welcome to call your attorney, Dr. Hides, but the question is just a formality. It will help us move in the right direction if we can clear your name off the list.”

“Very well, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to take me off your list,” he said, locking his hands together in a tight grip on top of his desk and leaning forward slightly. His hands were clasped in a white knuckled grip, and it was easy to see the rage that lay just below the surface.

“I was home all evening Thursday night. I saw my last patient from five to six, and then I handed the file to Janette to lock up before she headed home a few minutes after the hour. I had a light dinner, reviewed a few files for my patients the following day and then went to bed after the evening news at ten thirty.”

Jack was writing everything down in the little notebook he habitually carried everywhere, and I wondered if it was difficult to keep all the lies and truths and half-truths straight from one suspect to the next. I knew from experience that no one told the whole truth all the time, myself included.

Dr. Hides stood from behind his desk and walked towards the door. “Now if you folks will excuse me, my patient will be here shortly. And if you have any other questions please contact my attorney.”

“Thanks for your time, Dr. Hides,” Jack said. “I’ll be back with that warrant for Fiona’s files.”

Dr. Hides didn’t bother to respond to that statement or tell us good-bye, but he showed us out and closed the door behind us with a finality that ran shivers down my spine.

“Dr. Hides is a dirty, rotten liar,” I said as I headed towards the passenger side of the Suburban. “Did you notice how he was more upset about Fiona cancelling her sessions with him than her actual murder?”

“Oh, yes. And I think we need to add Janette to our list of people to question. Secretaries are usually a pretty good judge of people in my estimation. I’d think it would be pretty tempting to take a peep at a person’s file every so often. We’ll check her out after lunch, but for now let’s head to the Alexandretta Boutique.”

I let out a slow breath and was glad we were at least speaking civilly, if not warmly to each other again. It was almost a relief that a murder investigation cleared the air, even if it was only short-lived.

Jack started the car and turned the heater up to full blast before doing a u-turn in the middle of the fairly empty street and heading two blocks north. All the shops that lined the Towne Square were exclusive and high-end, mostly there to gouge the tourists or women like Candy Harlowe.

The Alexandretta Boutique was the mother of all stores. I looked down at my corduroy pants and hiking boots and hoped they let me in the door. The glass-front display windows had Alexandretta Boutique written very tastefully in small gold letters in the bottom corner, and behind the glass were mannequins who wore elegant designer gowns. I guess nothing said Merry Christmas like spending two thousand dollars on yourself for a party dress. I let Jack go in first, sure that he’d draw all female eyes in his direction and take the heat off me.

There were only a handful of women in the store so early in the morning, especially on the morning after one of the biggest storms in years. The tiny blonde behind the counter was cool and professional, and she wore a beautiful turquoise suit with big clunky silver jewelry. Sometimes I wished I could be more like her. Femininely competent. Petite. I could do without the blonde hair. I’d tried that fashion statement my sophomore year of college and ended up looking like Ronald McDonald. So the lesson was learned. Never use peroxide on dark hair.

Jack and I stayed towards the back of the shop while she finished ringing up customers and wishing them happy holidays in a husky, slightly accented voice. Great, she was also cultured and well-traveled. Was there anything this woman didn’t have going for her?

I was about to make a comment to Jack about ogling potential witnesses when I saw what I wanted on a mannequin. It was exactly what I needed to knock Brody’s socks off. The dress was a long sweep of cashmere. It had a cowl neck and flowed all the way to the ankles in a forest green so dark it was almost black. A column of twisted gold draped around the waist and hugged the hips. It skimmed the body enough to reveal a womanly figure without showing everything you had. 

My mother had always told me to let a man use his imagination. Of course, I was pretty desperate at this point, so I might have to throw my mother’s advice out the window and fend for myself. 

I left Jack’s side and went over to touch it, to tell myself it wasn’t really as spectacular as I’d first thought, and that I didn’t need to run up my credit card for one date.

“Can I help you miss?” a tall woman with exotic eyes and skin asked.
Before I could stop myself, I told her that I’d take it in a size eight, and that I also needed shoes to complete the ensemble. She said she’d take care of it all, so I handed over my credit card with all the will of a lamb led to slaughter. I thought it would be best if I didn’t actually see the total price of things. That way I could live in denial until the bill came.

I walked back over to Jack and ignored his accusing stare. “That dress is indecent,” he hissed. “You don’t want him to think you’re easy.”

“It’s been four years, Jack. I am easy. And the dress covers every inch of skin.”

“That’s my point. He’s going to be thinking of what’s underneath it all night.”

“Ooh, thanks for reminding me. I need to tell her to add lingerie to my order. You’re such a pal, Jack,” I said, patting him lightly on the cheek. It was a good thing Jack would never hurt a woman, because I was pretty sure I’d just pushed too far. I ran over to the sales woman before he remembered he carried a gun and made the change to my order.

I walked back over to Jack and rolled my eyes as he gave me the silent treatment. The blonde behind the counter was just finishing up with the last sale when she noticed us. 

“How’d you know that was our gal?” I asked. He didn’t answer, so I stepped on his foot. 

“I recognized her accent from the phone,” he said. He left me behind and made his way across the store to intercept the woman before she could get caught by another customer.

There was a little irritation at the thought Jack was scoping out the goods only a day after his little tête-à-tête with the lab tech. I totally understood the reaction he’d had to Brody earlier. Sometimes having friends was a pain in the ass, and I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of sharing Jack with anyone on a permanent basis, as selfish as that may seem. I’d have to think on it, but for right now there were questions to be answered.

“Marie Petit?” Jack asked.

“
Oui
. How may I help you?” She took an initial look at Jack, and then I guess she decided he was worth another, because the second was a lot more thorough and a good deal slower.

“I’m Sheriff Lawson. We talked on the phone yesterday. I was wondering if you had a few minutes to speak with us.” Jack flashed his badge, and I decided not to be irritated that he forgot to introduce me.

“Sure, we can sit in the office,” she said, leading us toward a door that said
Employees Only
.
Marie turned to the girl who was currently ringing up my purchases. “Grace, watch the floor for me for a few minutes,
s’il vous plait
.
”

The office was small and cramped. A desk took up one entire wall and wooden file cabinets lined another like soldiers. Papers were piled in precise stacks and ferns sat on plaster pedestals. Two wing-back chairs sat tightly in the corner, and an ergonomic desk chair faced them.

Jack and I sat in the two wingbacks, and I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes when Marie flashed way more thigh than necessary for Jack’s benefit when she sat down in the desk chair.

“Like I told you yesterday,” she said, speaking to Jack as if I weren’t there, “We’re all very distraught at the thought of something happening to Mrs. Murphy. I’ll do anything I can to help.” She emphasized the word anything like the secret to Fiona’s death lied somewhere behind Jack’s zipper. I felt myself snarl before I could stop it.

“How often did Mrs. Murphy come in?” Jack asked.

“Oh, she came in every Thursday like clockwork. About eleven-fifteen or so.”

“Did she buy something every week?” he asked.

“Almost always. We get new shipments in every Tuesday. Our designer lives in Fairfax and has a workshop there, so we’re always getting in something new and unique. Sometimes I would put things in the back for Mrs. Murphy if I thought it was something she’d like.”

“What was Mrs. Murphy like?” I asked. Marie Petit looked at me in surprise, like I’d just materialized out of thin air.

“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?” she asked.

“I’m Dr. Graves,” I said. “The coroner for King George County.” I was thinking maybe I should just have that tattooed to my forehead so people would stop asking who I was.

“She was a very nice woman,” Marie said. “She had great taste and knew what she wanted.” Marie eyes my clothing with distaste. “I don’t know what she did for a living, but she seemed quite cultured and well-to-do.” She said the latter like I wasn’t even good enough to be on the same planet, much less achieve the same social status.

“Did she ever mention her husband?” Jack broke in.

“
Non
,” Marie said, confused. “It was my understanding that she was a widow. I assumed she inherited her money from her late husband. Are you saying she wasn’t a widow?”

“Her husband is very much alive,” I said. “Did you ever note any marks on Mrs. Murphy? Maybe notice something out of the ordinary when she was trying on clothes in the dressing rooms?”

“
Oui
, yes, as a matter of fact I did. I saw a large bruise on her collar bone that was all shades of the rainbow. But when I asked her about it she said she’d been in a car accident and it was damage done by the. . .
courroie
.” She motioned her hand across her body.

“Seatbelt?” I asked.

“
Oui
, seatbelt. I had no reason to doubt her. She was a very nice woman.”

Jack thanked the tart, I mean woman, and discreetly put her card in the right pocket of his coat and promised to be in touch soon. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bags waiting for me on the counter. How could Jack fall for someone that obvious? Why would he want a woman like that? I’d never understand what went on in the male mind.

Lunch was a casual affair of take-out burritos eaten in the car on the way to see Janette Taylor, Dr. Hides’ secretary. I was tired of the sullen silence. I wasn’t made for long bouts of anger. I was more of an explode then fizzle kind of gal.

“I don’t want us to be angry with each other, Jack. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

He was silent for a long while, so I just assumed he wasn’t ready to move on yet, but then I heard him exhale a long breath.

“Shit, Jaye, I just don’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t like the way he looked at you.”