One Foot in the Grave (Carly Moore #3) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,100
she got as close to people as she was capable of. She was too narcissistic to be a real friend.”
“Did she have any enemies?”
“Lots of people felt used by her, but all she had to do was circle back in their orbit and they’d fall under her spell again. Me included.”
“So you don’t know of anyone who held a grudge against her?” I said.
He shrugged. “It’s complicated. I know people were annoyed with her, but I don’t think anyone wanted to kill her.”
“How well did you know Wyatt?” I asked.
“Not well.”
“But you saw him when he showed up at her going-away party,” I said matter-of-factly, leaving little room for argument.
He grunted, then nodded once in lieu of a yes.
How did he seem?” I continued.
“He seemed agitated at first, insisting he had to talk to Heather. She laughed and told him he’d better get his closure now, as she was taking off the next day. They went into a room together—at that point he didn’t seem as angry. He just seemed tired.”
“Did he look like he was drunk?” I asked.
He made a face. “No. He was pissed when he first showed up, but he wasn’t drunk.”
“It was rumored that he was drunk, but it wasn’t anyone who was at the party who told me. It was a friend of a friend.”
“Let me guess,” Dick said in disgust. “You heard it from Abby.”
I didn’t respond.
“Mitzi told a lot of stories after Heather left, saying Wyatt had been drunk and he and Heather had sex in the room.” He shook his head. “Never happened. Heather was shouting at him too much for that to have happened. We could hear them through the door.”
“Do you know what she was shouting about?” Marco asked.
I shot him a dirty look.
Dick lifted his shoulder into a half shrug. “That she’d wasted her time on him. That she deserved more than five thousand and she had a plan to get it.”
Marco glanced at me, eyebrows raised.
“Do you know how she planned to get more money?” I asked.
“I wasn’t privy to Heather’s schemes,” Dick said. “Nor did I want to be.”
“Was Heather’s new boyfriend at the party?” I asked.
“I’d heard rumors of a new boyfriend, but I never saw evidence of him,” Dick said. “He never showed up at anything. Heather claimed he was private and wasn’t ready to go public with their relationship.”
“Do you know his name?” Marco asked. “Surely she called him by something.”
“Yeah, she had a nickname for him.” Dick scratched his head. “It was different…what was it? Peep.”
“Peep?” Marco asked as if baffled.
“Do you know if Heather stayed at the Mountain View Lodge with her boyfriend?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’ve got no idea. Honestly, I tried to know as little as possible about what she was up to. If you want to know more about her personal life, you should talk to May or Mitzi.”
“When did Mitzi start seeing Paul Conrad?” I asked.
His brow shot up. “So you’ve heard about Paul, huh?”
“Yeah,” I admitted.
“About a year after Heather left. Mitzi stopped hanging out with us then. Paul had just gone through a divorce—in fact, I think they started seein’ each other while he was in the middle of it—and he didn’t waste any time controlling her. He works for the sheriff’s department, and he fits right in.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“There’s a core group of guys who are power-hungry assholes. If they don’t like you, they’ll torment you and make your life a living hell.” He made a face. “And before you think I’m bitter because they busted me for something, you can back right on down that tree. They’ve left me alone, but I’ve seen them make other people’s lives hell. Many of them moved away. Some of them are in prison on trumped-up charges.”
I shot a look at Marco before shifting my attention back to Dick. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was. But Paul Conrad’s part of the good ole boys club.”
While I knew that there were corrupt deputies, it was eye-opening to hear Dick talk about it. Did Marco know any of this was going on?
“Do you happen to know who Paul Conrad was married to before Mitzi?” Marco asked.
“Yeah,” Dick said. “He was married to Tammy Hershey. She works at the thrift store.”
“Helping Hands Thrift Store?” I asked. The cashier there had been named Tammy.
“Yep. That’s the one. I saw her in there last week. She was working at the register.”