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Authors: Patricia MacDonald

Sisters (23 page)

BOOK: Sisters
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‘Don’t look at me,’ said Walker indignantly. ‘I was on tour out west when she was killed.’

‘Oh, no, I didn’t mean you,’ Alex said.

‘I remember when it happened. Our manager called me to tell me. I was stunned.’

‘Were you two . . . dating then?’ Alex asked carefully.

‘No, we’d broken up a few months earlier. But I still cared about Lauren.’

Alex nodded. ‘You said “our manager.” Did you and Lauren have the same one?’

‘We did,’ he said. ‘That’s how we met. Cilla Zander from TAI in Nashville represents us both. She introduced us. When she started out Lauren’s mother used to be her manager, but Lauren had to replace her with a pro.’

Alex looked at Dory. ‘Did you know that?’

Dory shrugged. ‘She was always busy with Lauren’s career. That was all she cared about.’

The make-up artist finished her work and patted Walker on the shoulder. ‘You can put your hat back on now.’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said politely. ‘Close that door on your way out, would ya? They’re raising hell out there,’ he said cheerfully.

The girl closed the door and Walker turned his attention back to Alex and Dory. ‘So, what was your question again?’

Alex thought about it for a moment. ‘You and Lauren were engaged at one time, weren’t you?’

A pained look flitted over his even features. ‘Well, you know the press. They always exaggerate.’

‘You weren’t?’ asked Alex.

Walker shrugged. ‘We dated. Let’s just say that. She was always nice and fun to be with, but I don’t believe I ever really won her heart. All that girl cared about was her career. In the end I think she did me a favor by being honest.’

‘About what?’ Alex asked.

‘Well, about her ambition. She told me that she’d never love any man the way she loved her music. I think that was probably true.’

‘So you never thought it was another man, or something like that,’ said Alex.

Walker considered this a minute. Then he shook his head. ‘No. Look, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but your sister was a bit . . . cold. I mean, she just never could . . . let herself go. You know what I mean?’

Dory nodded solemnly.

‘I was lucky she called it off. I met the right gal last year. We’re getting married next summer.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Dory. ‘You were lucky to get away from Lauren.’

Walker frowned and Alex quickly changed the subject. ‘Was there anyone you remember that Lauren was close to?’ she asked. ‘Anyone else we could talk to about her?’

‘Besides her mama?’ he asked.

‘Any friends? Other . . . relationships? Band members, maybe?’

Walker frowned. ‘No. She had no loyalty to the musicians who worked for her. She was always happy to use a house band or a pick-up band. She said to me once, “It’s me they come to hear, not the band.”’

‘That sounds like her,’ said Dory.

‘What about when she was home? In Branson?’

Walker stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his hands behind his head. ‘That was the sad thing. She spent all her time working. She had a nice house out in Branson, but other than the gardener and the housekeeper, she lived alone and kept to herself.’

‘What about them?’ Alex asked. ‘The gardener and the housekeeper? They might know of someone.’

‘It’s not like we were talking about two particular people. Even they were temporary. They were always quitting on her or getting fired. No one ever lasted long with Lauren.’

The door to the dressing room opened. ‘Walker. Fifteen minutes,’ said a young man wearing a leather jacket and a headset.

‘Ladies, you will have to excuse me,’ said Walker Henley, standing up.

‘Thank you so much for talking to us,’ said Alex.

Walker Henley smiled. ‘Enjoy the show.’

They stayed through Walker’s set and then headed out to the car. Alex was tired, and it had been a long day. She navigated as they retraced their route and got onto I-95, heading back to Boston.

They rode along in silence for a while. Then Dory sighed. ‘That was a waste of time.’

‘He wasn’t a lot of help,’ Alex admitted. ‘Nice guy though.’

‘Too nice for my sister,’ said Dory.

‘I guess we could follow up on this manager, Cilla Zander. Did you ever meet her?’

‘No, but I heard about her. My mom was pissed that she took over Lauren’s career. But Lauren was moving to Branson, and my dad wouldn’t go.’

‘Your mother wanted him to?’

‘Of course,’ said Dory. ‘That was all she cared about.’

‘Do you remember when Lauren was dating Walker?’

‘She brought him home at one point.’

‘I guess at that time your mother didn’t know that Lauren was gay.’

‘Apparently not. She was planning the wedding,’ said Dory ruefully.

‘I guess she did it for appearances,’ Alex observed. ‘It’s a high price to pay for success. Living a lie.’

Dory threw her an angry glance. ‘Nobody made her do it.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ Alex asked. ‘It sounds like your mother was pretty heavily invested in Lauren’s career. She was willing to move to Branson, for heaven’s sake.’

‘Are you kidding? Lauren was a hog for the spotlight. Pulling out that goddam guitar everywhere. “Do you want to hear ma new song?”’ Dory imitated her sister in a sing-song drawl.

‘Did she have a Southern accent?’ Alex asked.

‘She . . . acquired one,’ said Dory bitterly. ‘Whatever she had to do.’

Alex was quiet for a moment. ‘Was there anything about her that you liked?’

‘No,’ said Dory.

Alex thought about the song she had listened to, ‘Love You Only’, and the picture it painted of a woman trying in vain to please her mother, her fans and all the strangers around her. A woman whom no one really knew.

‘You think I’m terrible, don’t you?’ Dory asked. ‘You’re thinking how you’d be a much better sister than me.’

‘No, I’m not,’ said Alex, suddenly weary of Dory’s automatic habit of taking offense.

‘You probably think I was crazy, accusing her of trying to steal Rick Howland away from me. Why would she do that if she was gay? I’ll tell you why. Just for the pure meanness of it. She didn’t care who she hurt. Look at that Walker guy. He was thinking about marrying her, and she was just using him to make it seem like she went with men.’

Alex felt a headache forming as Dory drove along in the dark, ranting. Suddenly her phone rang.

‘Who’s that? Seth again?’ Dory asked sarcastically. ‘Must be nice to be so in demand.’

Alex frowned when she saw the caller ID. It was Detective Langford of the Boston police. She hit the button and answered the phone.

‘Ms Woods,’ he said. ‘How you doing?’

‘Much better,’ said Alex. ‘I’m doing fine.’

‘I just wanted to call you,’ he said, ‘because we got the lab tests back on that piece of liver we found at your house.’

‘Oh?’ said Alex, wondering why he would call her with that.

‘I thought you should know. That wasn’t poison on the liver. It was a sedative. A mild sedative for dogs.’

Alex felt a sickening flip in her stomach. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘You ought to be aware that your assailant, whoever he or . . . she might be, had no intention of poisoning that dog. Only wanted him to take a short nap so she . . . or he . . . could carry out their plan.’

Alex understood exactly what he was saying. She did not reply.

‘Based on these test results and, in the interests of our own investigation, we have decided to get a search warrant for the Colsons’ apartment in Boston. We feel that we need to go over that place again.’

‘I see,’ said Alex.

Dory was looking at her suspiciously.

‘You be on your guard, Ms Woods,’ said the detective.

TWENTY-SIX

T
he minute they walked into the house, Remus rushed to the door to greet them. Dory immediately crouched down and began to tussle with the dog, crooning to him and tugging on his ears. Alex looked on in sickening fascination, thinking about the call from Detective Langford. A canine sedative. A way to quiet the dog without hurting him. Would Dory have done that? Could it have been Dory, after all, who had attacked her? Suddenly Alex felt completely unmoored. She didn’t know what to believe. Was it possible that Dory had, in fact, been the one who killed Lauren? It would be difficult to find anyone who hated Lauren more.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Dory demanded, looking up at Alex.

Alex jumped. ‘Nothing. Nothing. I’m going upstairs. I’m worn out.’

‘Go ahead,’ said Dory.

‘G’night,’ Alex mumbled as she hurried up the steps to her room, closed the door and locked it. Then, just for good measure, she took her desk chair and tilted it up so that it was wedged beneath the doorknob.

She got into her bed but didn’t take off her clothes. She picked up her phone and toyed with it. She was so tempted. Tempted to call Seth and tell him everything. Tell him that she was in the hospital because she had been stabbed. Tell him that now she was locked in her room, and that her possible assailant was just down the hall. But what could Seth do? she chided herself. She would be alarming him when there was no way he could help her. It wasn’t fair to put him in that position. She had to handle it herself.

She checked her address book and punched in Laney Thompson’s number. The phone rang several times and then went to voicemail. ‘Laney, this is Alex across the street. I’m just feeling a little jittery after that incident the other night. Please call me when you get this. I’d feel a lot better knowing you were right there.’

Well, she thought, that was no help. She tilted her head back against the headboard on her bed and tried to think. She couldn’t tell Dory that she suspected her of being the one who stabbed her. There was no rational explanation for why she would do that. Surely Dory hadn’t become so attached to Seth that she would hate Alex for stealing him away. And want to kill her. A person that did that would be . . . out of their mind.

Alex shuddered, remembering Dory’s rant in the car about Lauren. The force of her anger against her sister. I need to get away from her, Alex thought. No matter what. I have to put distance between us without letting her know of my suspicions. Tomorrow, she thought, I’ll tell Dory that I don’t need her here after all, that I’m going to stay with Uncle Brian. And this time, Alex thought, I’ll actually do it. I’ll stay there until Seth gets back, and then I’ll be safe.

Alex could feel a tightness in her chest, and her breathing became shallow. Stop it, she thought. Stop getting yourself into such a panic. If Dory had wanted to hurt you, she could have done it yesterday. Last night. Just because the person who attacked her had not tried to poison the dog that didn’t mean, ipso facto, that it was Dory. There are lots of dog lovers in this world, she told herself. Lots of people who wouldn’t hurt a dog, but wouldn’t hesitate to hurt their fellow man. Perhaps, in the end, it was just a burglary gone wrong. She couldn’t think of anyone in her life who might want to hurt her. What good would killing Alex Woods do for anyone else? She couldn’t think of anyone she had injured to that extent that they would want revenge. And no one stood to gain much if she should die. She didn’t even have an heir to leave her property to. She recalled her attorney John Killebrew telling her that she had to make a will and designate an heir, but she hadn’t done it yet. It didn’t seem necessary. It would probably go to Uncle Brian.

Or . . . to Dory.

The doorknob to her bedroom suddenly rattled and she cried out in alarm. ‘Who is it?’

‘Who do you think?’ asked Dory.

‘What do you want?’ Alex demanded.

There was no answer.

‘Dory?’ She waited. ‘Dory?’

She looked anxiously around the room. There was no other way in. From her front windows it was a sheer drop to the ground. Relax, she told herself. You have your phone. You’re perfectly safe. But no amount of reassuring herself seemed to work. She sat up in the bed, fully clothed and, try as she might, she could not get to sleep.

Dawn came and went and still Alex sat on her bed. She was not sure if she had dozed off or not but, if she had, it hadn’t lasted long. She felt utterly exhausted and nervous at the same time. She realized that Laney Thompson had never called her back. She must have gone away. Well, the night was over, Alex thought. Thank God for that. Suddenly she heard a minor commotion in front of the house. Several cars pulled up, and she heard car doors slamming. Alex jumped off the bed, ran to the window and looked out. A dark sedan was parked in front of the house with a black and white cruiser just behind it. Two men in suits and overcoats were coming up the walk, followed by a pair of uniformed officers. Jiggling the chair out from under the doorknob, Alex left her room and clattered down the steps. She had opened the front door before they even rang the bell.

‘Ms Woods,’ said Detective Spagnola. ‘You look tired.’

‘I haven’t slept,’ said Alex. ‘I’m glad to see you.’

‘We need to talk to your sister. Is she here?’

‘Yes, she’s upstairs. I’ll call her.’ Alex went to the foot of the staircase. ‘Dory,’ she called out. There was no answer.

Spagnola directed the two young uniformed officers to mount the stairs. They did as they were told, thundering up the steps.

‘Last door on the left,’ said Alex.

There was silence for a moment, and then one of them shouted down the stairwell, ‘No one here.’

At that same moment, Alex realized that there was no sign of Remus. ‘Oh, wait. She must have taken the dog out for a walk.’

‘Where does she take him?’

‘Probably down by the park at the end of the street.’

The detective summoned the uniformed officers to come back downstairs and then directed them to go down to the park at the end of the block to look for Dory and the dog.

Once they were out the door, Alex turned to the detectives. ‘Why are you here? What do you want to talk to Dory about?’

‘We’ve just come from the Colsons’ home,’ said Detective Langford. ‘As I told you on the phone, after we found out about the dog we obtained a search warrant and executed it early this morning. There was a knife with traces of blood on it hidden under the mattress in Dory’s room. We are testing it against samples of your DNA from the crime scene to confirm whether it is the weapon that was used to stab you.’

BOOK: Sisters
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