at lunch.” Resigned to the fact that Tate wouldn’t leave until he was good and ready, she met the detective’s direct gaze and asked what she didn’t really want to know. “What happened to Aubrey today?”
The detective delivered the devastating news. “Her body was found by a hiker at the bottom of Lover’s Leap.”
Shocked, her knees went weak.
Tate caught her before she fell to the floor. He helped her sit in one of the dining chairs. “Who is Aubrey? And what does this have to do with Liz?”
It couldn’t be. Liz just saw Aubrey a few hours ago. It had to be a mistake.
But it wasn’t. There was a cop in her condo questioning her.
“Aubrey was Clint’s ex. She had a restraining order against him. He’s been accused numerous times of harassment. Aubrey and concerned neighbors called in several domestic disturbances during their relationship. She and other past girlfriends never followed through, so he’s gotten away without the charges sticking.” The detective sighed out his resignation that he couldn’t fix the past. “Tell me about your meeting with both of them today.”
She sucked in a breath to settle her nerves and grief over what happened to Aubrey and spelled out the events as concisely as she could. “I left my office around twelve fifteen for lunch and walked the two blocks to the deli. I eat there often. Pat knows me. I placed my order and found a table.”
She’d done the same many times. It never ended like today. “Clint approached my table. I don’t know if he walked in after me or was already there.” The thought of him following her creeped her out and amped her paranoid thoughts of what else he’d done without her knowing. His sitting in the restaurant waiting for her creeped her out more. “I’ve seen him watching me from a distance several times since we broke up.”
Angry lines marred Tate’s already perturbed face. “That’s why you seemed distant this week. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t want him coming between us again.” But he had, and she hated it.
The detective wrote everything down. “Did he know you frequented that place?”
“We met there for lunch a couple times when we dated.”
She focused on what happened and not Tate’s presence and what he’d texted her at lunch. “Clint was nice. Comforting. The good guy act reminded me of the guy I liked.” She couldn’t believe she’d bought the conciliatory attempt to get back in her good graces.
Fool me once. Never again.
Tate frowned. “You think he played you.”
She reminded herself that she’d had her suspicions. “I appreciated that he tried to make me feel better but it didn’t make me forget how he’d hurt me.”
“Was there a physical altercation in the past?” the detective asked.
She hated remembering how scared she’d been. Echoes of that fear rippled through her now. “Yes. Here at my condo. My neighbor stepped in. I made it clear to Clint we were over before that confrontation and again before he left that night.”
“He’s not the kind of guy who takes no for an answer.” The detective scribbled more notes. “What else about the conversation today?”
“Nothing. He asked if he could see me tonight, I told him I wasn’t up for it. I don’t ever want to reconcile with him. He left thinking that maybe we’d see each other soon. I didn’t want to upset him after we’d had a nice conversation. I thought to just leave it at that and move on.”
So much for leaving it in the past. Clint had no intention of letting her go. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to ward off the cold shiver of fear.
The detective wasn’t done with his questions. “After Clint left, what happened with Aubrey?”
“She walked up to the table and told me that everything Clint says is a lie and I should stay away from him. She told me that he’d ruined her life and sent a recording of her in a . . . compromising sexual situation to her coworkers.”
“Did he ever record you?” The deadpan look didn’t ease the embarrassment of that question.
She pressed her hand to her sour stomach. “Oh God, I hope not.” Though she didn’t want to think about her limited time with Clint, she thought back to those intimate moments, searching her memory for anything that seemed odd, or like he’d been performing. But looking back only made her realize it all seemed like a performance now. “I suppose he could have