Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery (13 page)

A second later, the door was flung open and Lola Martinez yelled, “I told you to leave me alone!” She blinked as her gaze settled on Skye and Wally. “Oops! Sorry. I thought you were my ex.”

“Ex-husband?” Skye asked.

“No.” Lola shook her head. “Ex-boyfriend. Ever since that slut he left me for dumped him, he’s been trying to get me back. He’s been calling me all afternoon.”

“May we come in, Ms. Martinez?” Wally interjected. “I’m Chief Boyd from the Scumble River Police. I believe you talked to Sergeant Quirk earlier, and you already know Skye, who’s the department’s psychological consultant. We have a few questions to ask you about this past weekend.” When Lola hesitated, he added, “It’s important and I promise we won’t take up too much of your time.”

“Sure.” She smoothed the stained blue chambray shirt she was wearing. “I was working on a new design. Just let me turn off my soldering iron.” She moved over to a drafting table.

Skye and Wally stepped into a large area that clearly was meant to be the house’s living room, but most of the space was taken up with jewelry-making equipment.
Shelves holding pieces in various stages of completion lined three of the four walls and a massive painting of Lola stretched out semi-nude on a bed hung on the fourth.

Lola motioned them to the sofa facing the portrait, then dragged the leather swivel chair from behind her desk over to where they sat.

Sinking into the seat, she looked at Skye and asked, “Is this the man who bought you that gorgeous engagement ring?”

“Yes, it is.” Skye twisted the diamond on her finger. “Wally’s my fiancé.”

“You didn’t mention he was the chief of police or that he was so handsome.”

“Uh.” Skye felt the color creep up her cheeks. “It didn’t come up.”

“It’s a good thing Alexis never met him.” Lola’s tone was teasing. “She would have sunk her claws in faster than a cat at a scratching post.”

“I’m sure she would have tried.” Skye glanced at Wally, who seemed disconcerted by the jewelry maker’s bluntness. “But she never would have succeeded.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” The light in Lola’s dark eyes dimmed.

“Was Alexis the woman who came between you and your boyfriend?” Wally asked.

“Yes.” Lola turned her attention to him. “I thought she and I were friends.”

“But?” Wally prompted.

“But a woman like her doesn’t have any real friends.” Lola sighed.

“A woman like her?” Skye asked.

“Alexis constantly had to be reassured that she was smart and wonderful and beautiful. An extra pound, a gray hair, or a zit would send her into a deep depression,” Lola explained. “And she was overemotional—everything was a crisis, not to mention her mood swings.”
Lola scowled. “But what should have warned me off was how seductive she was around men, especially at totally inappropriate times. I saw her come on to a grieving widower at his wife’s funeral.” Lola shook her head. “How could I have been so naïve?”

“So why did she pretend to be your friend?” Wally asked.

“Alexis liked pretty things, and she thought everyone should just hand over whatever she decided she wanted. She…” Lola paused as an enormous cat with a pushed-in face strolled into the room.

The feline ignored Skye and Wally, sauntering over to Lola and rubbing against her blue jeans–clad leg. The jewelry maker stroked the cat’s white fur. It purred loudly and jumped into her lap, where it curled up and started to knead her thigh.

Once the animal was settled, Lola continued. “Alexis wanted a piece of jewelry I’d had made. A very expensive necklace. I offered it to her at cost, but she insisted that I give it to her as a gift. She said she’d act as a model for my jewelry and send customers my way.” Lola shook her head. “But I couldn’t afford to do that.”

“What happened?” Skye was pretty sure she knew, considering Lola’s warning to her after she’d faced off with Alexis on Saturday afternoon.

“I overheard her telling people that my jewelry was overpriced because the gold was an overlay and the stones weren’t genuine.” Lola’s mouth thinned. “I confronted her and we had a huge shouting match. Next thing I knew, I caught Kyle in bed with her.”

“Your ex is Kyle O’Brien?” Wally asked, flipping open his notebook. “The photographer?”

Lola nodded. “I call him the Rat.” She pointed to the cat. “Jabba the Fluff was a gift from him. He’s a Persian, which is an extremely loyal breed. Too bad Kyle wasn’t.”

Skye pointed at the portrait. “Is Kyle the artist?” It was clear that the painter had loved his subject. And now that Skye studied the canvas, she notice a white cat curled at the foot of the bed.

“Yes.” Lola’s voice broke and she cleared her throat before adding, “In our happier days, I was his favorite subject. He really is very talented. I think he’s an even better painter than a photographer.” She made a droll face. “But you know what they say, right? Behind every successful man is a woman. And behind the fall of every successful man is usually the other woman.”

“So Lola stole Kyle from you, then dropped him?” Skye asked, wanting to make sure she completely understood the situation.

“Yep.” Lola’s tone dripped with satisfaction. “Kyle makes a nice living as a photographer, but nowhere near the amount of money Alexis required to keep her in the style to which she wanted to become accustomed.”

“Was O’Brien upset when Alexis broke up with him?” Wally asked. He leaned forward, his pen poised. “Did he threaten her or make a scene?”

“Not that I heard about.” Lola stroked Jabba. “He told me he was relieved.”

“Relieved?” Skye asked. “That’s an odd reaction. Did he say why?”

“He said it had felt as if Alexis had cast a spell over him, and once she dumped him, he could finally see what she was really like.” Lola shrugged. “Needless to say, I didn’t believe him and told him to take a hike.”

“Is that why you both participated in the speed-dating event last night?” Skye asked. “Do you think Kyle was hoping you two would be paired up, and, if you were, that you’d give him another chance?”

“I can only answer for myself.” Lola took a wire brush from an end table and started to comb the purring feline
in her lap. “I was hoping to meet Mr. Right, but instead I met Mr. Right For Somebody Else.” She sighed. “It seems I have lousy taste in men.”

“The guy you were matched with didn’t work out?” Wally asked, raising a brow.

“That’s an understatement.” Lola sighed again. “Turns out the guy was really into blondes and hit on Kyle’s date all night.”

Wally and Skye spent another half hour with Lola. No matter how they phrased their questions, Lola’s answers remained the same, and finally she glanced pointedly at her watch.

Skye shot Wally an inquiring look.

He nodded slightly, then stood up. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“No problem.” Lola led the way to the door. “I hope I was helpful.”

Wally and Skye followed her. Skye said good-bye, then stepped onto the outside landing.

Before Wally joined Skye, he said to Lola, “If you think of anything else, call me. Oh, and if you plan to leave the area, let me know.”

“Will do, Chief.” Lola saluted. Before she closed the door, she said, “I didn’t kill Alexis. Someone with a bigger grudge than mine did that.”

Once Wally and Skye were back in the squad car, Wally turned to her and asked, “What’s your take on Lola’s description of Alexis?”

“It jibes with everything other people have said about her.” Skye settled into the cruiser’s seat. “But hearing it all together like that makes me wonder if Alexis had a hysterical personality disorder.” Skye ticked the symptoms off on her fingers. “Constantly seeks praise, overly concerned with physical attractiveness, overemotional, rapid mood swings, and inappropriately sexually seductive.”

“In other words, a woman who in a relatively short amount of time would alienate everyone she came in contact with?” Wally asked.

“Exactly. And her disorder would explain why she worked as a temp. There is no way a woman like that could keep a job for very long.”

“How about a position where she worked alone?” Wally asked, starting up the Caprice’s engine. “Would she be okay in that type of situation?”

“I doubt it.” Skye fastened her seat belt. “It’s not only the personal interaction that would be a problem. Someone like that would lie, cheat, and steal without any remorse because she would feel entitled to whatever she wanted.”

“Interesting.” Wally put the car in gear. “Did you believe Lola’s account of what happened between her, Alexis, and Kyle?”

“It’s hard to say.” Skye leaned her head against the seat back and thought about the past hour. “Did everything take place as she said? Perhaps. Is she still holding a grudge against Kyle and Alexis? Yes. Did she kill the woman who stole her man? Possibly.”

“Hmm.” Wally concentrated on backing out of the long, narrow lane. “If Lola offered Alexis a free piece of jewelry, Alexis would probably agree to meet her in the basement. Greed and power seem to be two of the major forces that motivated her.”

“And Lola is strong enough to overpower Alexis if she caught Alexis by surprise.” Skye dug in her tote for her lipstick. “You couldn’t see her upper arms today, but Lola had a strapless dress on Saturday night and her biceps are impressive. No saggy flesh on her.”

“That gives her motive, means, and opportunity.” Wally turned the car toward town. “Now it’s time to hear O’Brien’s version of the story.”

O
’Brien Photography was located on Clay Center’s main street. The studio shared a building with a financial advisor’s office and a Mexican restaurant called Los Tres Caballeros. It was a little past six when Wally pulled the cruiser into a spot in front of the three businesses, and only the restaurant still had an
OPEN
sign on its door.

“Shoot!” Wally hit the steering wheel. “We could have come here first if I’d thought to ask Chief Leery about O’Brien’s hours.” At Skye’s questioning look, he explained, “I phoned Clay Center’s chief this afternoon to let him know we’d be questioning suspects in his jurisdiction.”

“I wondered about that.” Skye stared at the photography studio’s darkened window, where large pictures of cats, children, and brides were prominently displayed. “Why did you particularly want to talk to Kyle at his studio?”

“I like catching people on the job. They’re usually embarrassed to be questioned by the police in front of their customers or coworkers, and that throws them off balance. It’s a lot harder to think of a lie when you don’t feel in control.”

“I can see how that would be an advantage.” Skye looked at the nearly deserted sidewalks. “Most people are just finishing up dinner, so Kyle’s probably at home. Are we going to try him there?”

“Absolutely.” Wally threw the cruiser into reverse. “Having the cops show up on your doorstep is almost as disquieting as having them invade your workplace.”

“I should think so.”

“Let’s go see if we can rile him up enough to get the truth out of him.” Wally checked his notebook. “He only lives a few roads over.”

The photographer’s home was a modest bungalow on a tree-lined street in a typical small-town neighborhood. A blue MINI Cooper was parked by the curb in front, and a white panel van with
O’BRIEN PHOTOGRAPHY
stenciled on both sides was sitting in the driveway.

As Wally and Skye walked past the van, she shivered and turned her head.

“Are you cold?” Wally put an arm around her, tucking her against his side to shelter her from the wind that had kicked up since they’d left Lola’s place. “Do you want me to get your jacket from the cruiser?”

“No. I’m fine.” Skye leaned against Wally for a second. Then, feeling a little foolish, she explained, “It’s just that Kyle’s van freaks me out a little. It seems as if every news bulletin of an abducted child or snatched woman always reports that the bad guy is driving a white panel van. I guess because it doesn’t have side windows it’s the perfect transportation for criminals.”

“I suppose it is.” Wally hugged her. “But it’s also perfect for florists, plumbers, and anyone who has to haul a lot of equipment. Like a photographer who needs to cart around lighting paraphernalia and props and large framed portraits.”

“Of course.” Skye kissed Wally’s cheek. “I’m just being silly.”

“Never.” Wally’s expression was somber. “Believe me, I trust your instincts.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” Skye enjoyed one last cuddle, then headed toward the tiny porch. “One of the things I love about you is that you take me seriously and never patronize me or my ideas.”

“Your hunches have been right too many times for me to ever dismiss one.” Wally rang the bell. “It would be stupid of me to underestimate you.”

When no came to the door, Wally pressed the button again. After waiting a couple of minutes, he knocked. Still no response from inside.

“Looks like he’s not home.” Skye turned to Wally. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll come back tomorrow.” Wally turned away and started back to the squad car. “I guess I’ll catch him at his studio after all.”

Skye followed, but skidded to a stop. “Hey, did you hear that?”