What the River Knows (5 page)

“We’ll ask Sandy which one it was.” A twitch of his mustache the only indication of the grin Scott knew it hid, Bates glanced at Scott. “Could you let us talk to Ms. O’Reilly and Ms. Turner?”

“Of course.” She consulted a sheaf of pink “while you were out” notes. “But Shawna called in sick today.” She rubbed her temple. “I think she was the most upset by poor Delia’s…death.”

Scott and Bates exchanged a look. “We’ll talk to Ms. O’Reilly then. And we’ll need Ms. Turner’s home number and address.”

“Certainly.” She consulted an address book in a drawer and wrote briefly on a company notepad. “Here it is.”

****

“Poor Delia.” Trish O’Reilly dabbed at her nose with a crumpled tissue. “She was so sweet, just getting her life back together.” She dropped her left hand, still holding the tissue, in her lap. She propped her right elbow on the conference table, gathered a strand of her caramel hair, and began to twist it in her fingers. Trish paid a lot of money for her hair to look like it was naturally that color. Rica’s caustic comments about women taught him that.

“How do you mean, ‘getting it back together.’” Scott, sitting directly across from her, leaned forward.

Trish glanced first at Bates, then back to Scott. “Oh, I mean after the divorce and all.” She smiled at Scott, then dropped her gaze. Deliberately, he laid his left hand across the top of the notebook as he jotted a note. Her gaze flicked to his wedding ring, but then she met his eyes and smiled again. “It’s hard to get back into circulation after a breakup, but she was making the effort.”

“Was she seeing anyone?” Scott kept his eyes on the notepad, although he could feel her looking at him. He’d let Bates read the body language; he needed to cool the way she reacted to him, or they’d not get the information they needed.

“Um.” She brought the tissue to her nose again. “No one steady.”

“Do you have the names of anyone she went out with?”

“Oh, she didn’t really go out with them.” Trish now focused on Bates, so Scott tried to observe her with his head lowered. “She just met them at a restaurant or bar, like a blind date.” She smiled. “We had a lot of laughs about how dismal they were.” Then her lips started to tremble, and her shoulders heaved. “Poor Delia.”

Scott glanced at Bates. Getting information from Trish was going to be a slow process. They waited a few minutes until her sobs slowed. “Can you write down everything you know about anyone she went out with? When they went out, where, times, that sort of thing.”

She nodded. “I can write down what she told me, but there usually wasn’t much.” She glanced toward the door of the room. “And then there was—” Someone walked past the door, and she stopped.

“There was what?” Scott asked the question he knew was also on Bates’ mind.

“Oh, nothing.” Trish’s fingers tangled in her hair again. “She just…stopped going out for a little while.”

“Bad experience?”

Trish shrugged. “She didn’t say much, just didn’t want to join us when we went out.”

Bates sighed. “Can you have the list of guys she went out with for us later today?”

“Sure.” She brought the tissue to her nose again.

“What about the place some of you went once in a while.”

“Oh, that.” Trish suppressed a smile. “It started out with some of us going out to the Thirsty Dragon to celebrate Shawna’s divorce, then it kind of morphed into a payday evening thing.”

“Must have been a bad marriage if she celebrated the divorce,” Bates muttered.

Trish focused on him. “Oh, it was horrible.” She did smile then. “But Shawna had the last laugh; she got the house, the car, and most of the bank account.”

“What did he get?”

Trish flashed a brighter smile. “Free.”

Chapter 8

“Nice house.” They pulled up before a stone-veneer split level with an oversized two-car garage on a cul-de-sac in a neighborhood announcing its status with an imposing brick entrance.

“Must have been a pretty lousy marriage for him to be happy just getting out.” Bates looked over the house. An unobtrusive sign in the velvety lawn advertised the name of the lawn care service.

“I guess freedom is worth different things to different people.”

Bates merely grunted as they stepped onto the flagstone porch. Scott rang the doorbell. He lifted his hand to ring the bell again when the door opened. A tall brunette yawned as she opened the door as far as the chain would allow.

“Scott Aylward, PD.” Scott held out his badge, and Bates did the same. “Are you Shawna Turner?” She nodded. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about Delia Enfield.”

She rubbed a hand over her face as if to wake up. “Sure.” She closed the door to remove the chain, then swung it wide for them to enter. The flagstone of the porch repeated itself in the large foyer. Shawna closed the door behind them, then slipped around them. Her shapely legs showed under the short, silken robe she wore as she led the way down into a family room. A flat-screen TV at least four feet across dominated the wall nearest the street. Tiny, but high-dollar, speakers sat in all corners of the room. Shawna crossed the room to settle herself on a sectional sofa of tan suede. She motioned to the matching sofa on the other wall for Scott and Bates. She drew her legs under her and waited.

Scott glanced at Bates, who looked down at his ever-present notebook. “We understand that you and Delia sometimes went out together.”

Shawna nodded. “We were all single, about the same age, and none of us wanted to go out alone.” She shivered. “I guess what happened to Delia proves it isn’t safe to go out alone.”

Bates nodded. “It always pays to be careful.” Bates watched Shawna, though his head appeared bent over the notebook. “Can you think of anyone she might have met with alone?” He looked up. “Or anyone who might have wanted to meet with her, that she didn’t want to see?”

Shawna met Bates’ gaze. “She met a few guys for dates, never let them pick her up, always met them at a restaurant or club, being careful.” She glanced at Scott. “There were never any she wanted to meet for a second date.”

Scott nodded. “Any of them take the rejection hard?”

Shawna shrugged. “From what she said, and from the few of them we saw her with, they really didn’t seem too into her, either.”

“Trish mentioned that she stopped going out with you for a while.”

She nodded. “Couple of months ago, she quit going out for three or four weeks.” She looked down at her hands. “She said she just didn’t feel like going out, but…”

“You didn’t believe her?” Bates’ voice was gentle, sympathetic.

She looked up at him. “Well, there were rumors…”

“Rumors about what?” Bates still sounded like a best friend, rather than an interrogator. Scott could see how he had made Chief of Detectives.

“Rumors that she was seeing—” She glanced from Bates to Scott and back. “Look, I have to work there, you know.” She looked down at her hands. “Now that Delia’s gone, I’ll have to make the damned bank deposits.”

“I understand you’re in a tough spot.” He waited.

“Mr. Moran and his wife have…” She paused, looked at the ceiling, and heaved a ragged sigh. “An arrangement.” She shivered slightly. “Neither one cares what the other one does, as long as the public face stays clean and happy.” She clasped her hands. “As long as both of them are smiling and act lovey dovey at business affairs, they don’t care what other affairs happen.”

“So you think Delia was one of those affairs?”

“She would never say, but Howard—Mr. Moran—seems to pay a lot of attention to his employees when they go through divorces.”

Bates glanced at Scott. “Did he ‘pay attention’ to you when you got your divorce?”

Shawna met Bates’ gaze. “Oh, he started to.” She looked away. “He bought me a potted plant and took me to lunch once, but I didn’t want to get into that.” She uncrossed her legs. “One of the women who got into it with him lost her job when it was over.”

“How did he react when you turned him down?”

“He got real quiet when I told him I’d slap him with a sexual harassment lawsuit if he caused me any problems.”

Bates let a smile tweak his mouth. “You play hardball.”

“I do when I have to.”

“Would Delia have played hardball if she wanted to end it?” Scott spoke up.

She turned her attention to him. “I don’t think so.” She clasped her hands around her knees. Her nicely manicured nails made him think of Rica. Because she worked surgery and wore rubber gloves, she kept her nails short, though he knew she loved to have manicures. He’d have to encourage her to have one soon. Shawna went on. “Delia was kinda quiet, not so much a fighter, unless it involved her daughter.”

“Did she and her ex fight about the baby much?”

She sat in silence for a moment, thinking. “No, not really. They fought about money some, but he always seemed to want whatever Delia thought was best for the baby.”

“Why did they divorce if they got along so well?” Bates turned a page in his notebook.

“I think they wanted different things out of life.” She looked from one man to the other. “Delia was a sweet gal, much too smart for the job she had or for her husband. I think she just finally realized that his idea of the good life—beer and a motorcycle—was far different than hers, more like museums and fine cuisine.”

“Marriages have fallen apart on far less.”

“Did Mr. Moran approach Trish?” Scott’s gut kept him pursuing this line.

Shawna stared at him, deciding, he assumed, if she should betray a confidence. “You should ask her that,” she said finally, with her chin thrust out. Scott thought this formidable group would resemble a pack of she-wolves on the hunt. He suppressed a shiver.

“Could you give us a list of names of men that Delia went out with?”

“I don’t know all of them, but I’ll give you what I know. When do you need it?”

“Could you have it done by tomorrow morning?”

She nodded. “Of course. I should be at work tomorrow.”

Bates stood, closed his notebook, and offered his hand to Shawna. “Thank you, Ms. Turner.” She shook it without enthusiasm. “We’ll contact you if we have any further questions.”

Scott shook hands with her as well. Despite her bravado, there seemed to be a hint of fear in her eyes. She rose to let them out the door.

“That gave us some food for thought.” Bates followed Scott down the flagstones to their car.

“Yeah.” Scott opened the driver’s side door. “So shall we go back and interview Moran?”

“That and get the list of dates from Trish.” Bates slipped into the passenger seat. “Then we’ll need to follow up on that list, too.” He tapped his fingers on his notebook. “Should be easy enough to find out if Moran stayed in the office the day she disappeared.”

Chapter 9

Sandy looked up as they came back through the door. “Hey, guys.” Apparently, nothing bothered Sandy for long. “Who do you want to see now?”

“How about Mr. Moran?”

Sandy shook her head. “No can do. He’s at the Oklahoma plant until Friday.”

“Well, then, we’d like to talk to Trish again, if she’s available.” Scott waited by her counter, Bates silent at his side.

“I’ll buzz her.” Sandy pushed buttons on the phone console, spoke briefly and then looked up at him. “She’s free. You want the small conference room again?”

“That would be fine.” Bates started toward the room. “Thanks.” Scott followed him.

Trish arrived at the room just as they did. Bates opened the door for her. She handed him the piece of paper she carried. “Here’s the list of all the guys that Delia talked about going out with.”

Scott looked over Bates’ shoulder at it. Four names and another couple of sentences about men without names.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t remember the names of all of them she talked about. Maybe Shawna would.”

Bates nodded. “We’ll ask her.” She gazed at them expectantly, awaiting another question. Bates took a deep breath. “How long ago was your divorce, Trish?”

A frown creased her brow. “Not quite a year and a half ago.”

“Just a few months before Delia’s, right?”

She nodded. “That’s why we went to lunch so often, because we were going through the same things.”

“It must be tough.” Bates’ own marriage of twenty-plus years was rock solid. “What kind of things did you talk about going through?”

Trish waved her hands in the air. “Oh, dealing with exes. The paperwork. I don’t have kids, so we didn’t have that in common.” She clasped her hands and looked down at them. “Trying to find a decent guy to date.”

“Having trouble finding any?”

“Guys, no. Decent ones, yes.”

Bates gave her a friendly grin. “What, are you saying there aren’t many of us that are worth dating?”

“You’d be surprised what’s out there.”

“Like what?” Scott was genuinely serious.

“Like men with no rings who act like they are single.” She frowned. “And you find out they’re married when the wife calls you.”

Bates smiled. “Sticky situation.” He glanced down at the list she had given them. “Any of those guys date Delia?”

“He called her, but I had already warned her.”

“Did he take it badly when she said no?”

“She said he acted like it didn’t even bother him.”

Bates glanced at Scott. “What about Mr. Moran?”

Trish sat up straight, her shoulders tight with tension, as she looked from Bates to Scott. “What about Mr. Moran?”

“Is he one of those guys who acts like he’s unmarried when he isn’t?”

She glanced between them again. “Did Shawna say anything?”

Bates stayed silent, waiting.

She fiddled with the rings on her hands for a few moments. “He—” She paused to look at the door.

“Would you be more comfortable discussing this if we went downtown to the station?”

She nodded. “Could we do it after five?” Her gaze flicked to the door’s window again. “I’d prefer that no one here know what we talk about there.”

Bates nodded. “Just come to the front desk and ask for me.” He stood and offered his hand. “We’ll see you this evening then?”

She did not meet his eyes as she took his hand.

Chapter 10

Scott headed for his desk as soon as they hit the station. “Gonna write up my report and track down those pictures in the yearbook while we wait on Trish.”