Murder at Castle Rock (11 page)

"What about a ring?" I asked, interrupting her story. "If you guys really got married, wouldn't he have given you a wedding ring?"

Kat dabbed at her eyes with her Kleenex. She reached a trembling hand down to her neck. "You mean this?" she asked, pulling at the long gold chain that dipped below her shirt collar. The necklace emerged from the depths of her neckline, and I gasped in awe. Hanging from the chain was one of the most gorgeous rings I had ever seen. The band was an elegant gold inlaid with a stunning pattern of alternating diamonds and blue sapphires. It was absolutely breathtaking.

"It was on my left ring finger when I woke up that morning." Kat gave a small sigh as she gazed down at the wedding ring dangling around her neck. "Parker couldn't remember anything from the night before either, but there was a receipt in his wallet. He'd bought it from a jewelry store in Caesar's Palace. Cost most of his remaining inheritance."

I let out a low whistle. "That's crazy."

Kat shrugged. "It gets weirder. He also had a bloody nose and black eye, but neither of us could remember how he got them. I called a cab and went with him to the hospital to get checked out." She looked at me guiltily. "That's the real reason we missed our flight."

I recalled how sick and miserable I'd been when I drove down to Hartsfield Jackson Airport to pick them up, only to discover they were still in Vegas. I'd received a text from Kat saying they'd missed their plane, but I didn't see it until I'd already been circling around the pick-up area for fifteen minutes. I drove home cursing them and climbed back into bed. Kat and Parker had to catch a cab home from the airport once they finally landed. "That's water under the bridge now, honey," I assured her. I also remembered the faint bluish purple circle around Parker's eye when I'd seen him at work a few days later, but at the time I'd thought better of asking him where he'd gotten the shiner. You know, 'what happens in Vegas', and whatnot.

On their way from the hospital to the airport, Kat and Parker had agreed to never utter a word of what happened to anyone—even me. They planned to annul the marriage as soon as they were settled back in Atlanta. Once they were home, however, it was hard to turn off the hot and heavy switch from Vegas. Before long, they were having mid-day make-out sessions in their offices and sneaking off together after work.

Kat kept her last name and her own apartment—but for a while, all thoughts of officially ending their marriage were forgotten. Kat confessed that she'd spent many of her late nights at work being with Parker in his office, and on the nights when she'd leave the bar after our pool games she often found herself heading to his place to spend the night. They always took separate cars to work the next day so that nobody would get suspicious.

"I knew it was temporary," she blubbered. "Eventually, we were going to call it quits and file for the annulment. The more time I spent with him, though, the more I started to see what a wonderful man he really was. I loved him, Ame. I still do."

I sunk back into the couch next to her, shocked. How could I have been so oblivious? My best friend's secret romance had been happening for months just a few yards away from my own office. I couldn't help but think that if Parker had been so wonderful, he wouldn't have been cheating on her with Laura, but I didn't have the heart to say that at a time like this. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked softly.

"Oh, Ame!" she wailed. "I should have! I wanted to. I just…didn't know how to tell you. We really did plan to end things. That's why we agreed there was no point in telling anyone. The whole 'secret lovers' thing made being with him so much hotter—like a forbidden love or something. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other. He just kind of grew on me after a while. I didn't want to end things. When we were alone, he called me Katy," she smiled sadly down at the tear-soaked Kleenex in her hand. "It was like I could be a different person when we were together. You know Parker, though—he's never been one to settle down. We've seen him jump from one girl to the next so many times over the years. As much as I'd hoped things would be different with me, I kept bracing myself for the day that he'd take an interest in someone else…and then Bronwyn told me last night that she'd seen him with Laura…" Her voice trailed off and she hung her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

A horrible thought occurred to me. I hated myself for even thinking it, but I had to know for sure. "Kat, when was the last time you saw Parker?" I asked gently.

She lifted her head and gazed at me with red-rimmed eyes. "When I broke up the fight between Reese and him last night. Hearing what he'd done with Laura hurt like hell, but I still didn't want Reese to beat him to a pulp. I ducked into the restroom next to the green room and had a good cry in the handicapped stall. Then I pulled myself together and came out to look for him so that we could talk. I bumped into Reese in the hall right about the time that we heard you start screaming."

Had Kat narrowly missed seeing what happened to Parker? There could only have been a short window of time between when he left the green room for the tower and when Kat came out of the bathroom looking for him. "Did you see anyone else in the hall? Or was anyone else in the bathroom—in one of the other stalls, maybe?"

Kat wiped a tear away a tear. "The police asked the same thing. I was alone in the bathroom, and there was no one in the hallway besides Reese." She eyed me warily. "I may not have the strongest alibi, but I did not kill my husband. You of all people know me better than that."

I hadn't meant to sound accusatory. Her words stung me, but I took them in stride. She was grieving, and she needed me to put on my supportive best friend hat right now instead of asking more questions. As Kat broke down again, I wrapped my arms around her and let her cry in my lap. She'd been through so much in the past six months, and even in just the past day. I'd had no way of knowing what she was going through, but I hated myself for not being there for her more.

While I believed Kat, it worried me that she didn't have a solid alibi—the only person who had seen her immediately after Parker's fall was the current number one suspect. Neither one of them had proof that they hadn't been with Parker up in the tower. I was afraid of what conclusions the police might draw now that they knew Parker and Kat were married and that she had just found out about his infidelity mere minutes before he was pushed.

I couldn't let Kat or Reese take the fall for an alleged crime of passion that I knew in my heart neither of them could have committed. As I sat on the couch comforting Kat, I vowed to get to the bottom of what happened to Parker, for the sakes of both of my friends.

Tuesday night found me sitting alone in my apartment, drumming my fingers on my dining room table as I held Tim Scott's card in my hand. I eyed Tony Spencer's number that was scribbled across the back. Kat had insisted that she wanted to be left alone for the night. Tomorrow, she'd begin the heart-wrenching task of planning Parker's funeral—since she was now his only living relative, the duty had fallen to her. Before leaving her office, I made her promise to call me if there was anything I could do to help, even if she just needed a shoulder to cry on. I drove Bronwyn back to her house in silence, not yet ready to talk about all I'd heard from Detective Dixon and Kat. By the time I got home, however, I couldn't bear to spend the night alone with my thoughts.
He
did
say to call if I needed anything
, I reasoned. After staring down at the card for a few minutes, I finally worked up the nerve to dial Tony's number.

"This is Tony." His low, sexy voice sent shivers down my spine. I realized I had no idea what to say to him. In a sudden panic, I hung up the phone.

What are you doing?
I smacked my palm to my forehead.
He's going to think I'm such a weirdo.
Sucking in a breath, I punched the call button again and waited for him to answer. "This is Tony," again in that smooth dulcet tone.

Okay, so at least he doesn't sound upset about the dial-and-ditch
.
That's a good sign, right?
I cleared my throat, a little too loudly. "Uh, hi, Tony. It's Amelia, from Castle Rock. Sorry about that—I had a bad connection before."
Liar, liar, pants on fire!

"Well, hey there, beautiful. In need of some more rescuing?" He chuckled. His warm voice put me at ease, and my shoulders slumped as the tension eased out of them.

"Oh! Um, no, nothing like that. Listen…it's been a long couple of days, and I could really use a drink. I was hoping maybe you'd join me." The words just tumbled out of my mouth, and I grimaced. This kind of boldness with a guy I'd only just met was out of character for me.

"Sure, a drink sounds good. Where should I meet you?"

"Great! I mean…cool." I felt like I was back in high school with my old braces and utter lack of social skills. "Have you ever been to The Cavern?"

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before. Meet you in half an hour?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then." I dropped the phone on the counter and jumped up and down, buzzing with excitement. It'd been a horrible twenty-four hours, so I'd take my victories where I could get them—and a night out with a guy like Tony was a grand slam in my book.

I hastily threw on the green sweater dress, black belt, and black leggings that Kat had given me for my birthday. I donned some black boots, threw my hair back in a messy-but-cute ponytail, and reapplied my mascara and lipstick. Smacking my lips together, I made a kissy face at the mirror as I placed the lipstick cap back on. "Ow ow!" I catcalled to my reflection. Feeling refreshed and a little more confident, I grabbed my black pea coat and locked the apartment door behind me.

Twenty-five minutes later, I sat on a bar stool at the Cavern, swirling the tiny stirring straw around in my Jack and Diet Coke. The Cavern was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place smack dab in the middle of Midtown. Kat and I loved the bar because there was almost always something to do there besides sit in a booth and down drink after drink. It had an Indiana Jones pinball machine, three pool tables, and a shelf full of board games. Kat and I could usually be found at the pool tables or playing pinball, but I had no idea what kind of activity Tony would prefer and decided to wait at the bar until he arrived.

Another twenty minutes passed, and I stared at the bottom of my second empty glass. I fidgeted with a complimentary book of matches with The Cavern's logo printed on it, trying to distract myself from the fact that Tony had blown me off. I decided to drown my sorrows in drink number three. "Make it a strong one," I requested of Andy, my favorite bartender. He nodded with a smile and came waltzing back to my seat at the bar a few minutes later, having upgraded my drink order to a pint glass that was heavy on the whiskey, light on the soda. "Perfect." I took a sip and slid a twenty-dollar bill across the table. "Keep the change," I slurred.

"Rough night, doll?" He eyed me with sympathetic brown eyes and patted me on the arm. "You know what? I think it's about to get a lot better." He winked then he raised his eyes to the door behind me.

I eyed him, confused. Two hands clamped gently around my waist and spun my chair around, bringing me face-to-chest with six feet of tall, dark, and sexy. I tilted my head up…and up some more…and found Tony aiming a goofy grin down at me. "Sorry I'm late," he said, releasing me. "I was wrapping up work at an event when you called—I drove the van straight here so I wouldn't keep you waiting any longer."

I was thoroughly buzzed from my first few drinks. Using my newfound liquid courage, I slid off the bar stool and grabbed Tony's hand, tugging him toward the next room. I heard Andy let out a low whistle from behind the bar. Without turning around, I reached backward to give him a thumbs-up as I pulled Tony onto The Cavern's dance floor.

We inched our way through the gyrating crowd and found a spot to dance. I offered Tony a sip of my Jack and Diet Coke. "Thanks!" he called over the loud music. He took the drink from my hand and downed a few swigs as I got down to the beats of an electro-pop song.

We spent the next half hour dancing but not speaking, moving with each other yet never touching, creating a palpable sexual tension. I wanted to wrap my arms around him as we moved to the music, but being three sheets to the wind, I was afraid I'd lose control and rip his clothes off right there on the dance floor. My mind conjured up some pretty tantalizing imagery at that thought, and I cast my face downward to hide my blushing.
Easy, girl…

I had to admit, while I didn't go out dancing with hot guys…well,
ever
…this was exactly what I needed to unwind from all the stress I'd been feeling. Tony was an excellent dance partner, and he didn't seem to mind that I was in no mood to talk—he just let me groove. It was refreshing to shake off all of my worries and fears, but it didn't last long. I couldn't hide from everything that had happened in the past two days. As Katy Perry's song about waking up in Vegas blared through the speakers, the thought of Kat's secret marriage to Parker came rushing back to shatter my solace.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyelids, and I whirled away from Tony. I fought my way through the crowd to the edge of the dance floor. He caught me gently by the wrist and turned me around to face him, confused. "What's the matter? I thought we were having a good time."

Overwhelmed with emotion and elevated blood alcohol content, I could no longer hold back everything that was weighing on my mind. I pulled Tony to a corner booth and tearfully told him about my afternoon with Kat. Though I'd only known him for a short time, I found him easy to confide in—he sat back in the booth and listened without interrupting. When I'd finished my story, he grabbed my hand from across the table and leaned in close. "You're beating yourself up for not being there for Kat, but the situation was out of your control. She had her reasons for not telling you right away, and you had no way of knowing."

A cool wave of relief washed through me. He was right—I was being too hard on myself. Still, when it came to my friends, I was loyal to a fault. As a result, I often found myself shouldering a personal sense of responsibility for them—especially Kat. She was the sister I'd never had, and I cared about her. My heart ached that she'd felt forced to keep her relationship with Parker under wraps. Now he was gone, and she didn't know who'd killed him. Kat deserved some closure, and I was going to help her get it.