A Witness in Disguise (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 10) Page 3

  “Did she say anything more about the person she was having problems with?” Carter asked.

  “No. I tried to get her to talk about that. She didn’t want to discuss it any further so I respected her wishes.”

  Carter made a face like he didn’t quite believe the story. “So, Meagan invited you back to her place after coffee? Even though she had only known you for a few hours?”

  “She offered to make some dinner and put in a movie. I couldn’t pass up on that offer.”

  I held up my cell phone. “I’d like to record this conversation, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “Great. Tell us exactly what happened as soon as you both finished your coffee, if you don’t mind.”

  Cliff took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. Well, initially, I was going to follow her in my car to her house but I got an urgent call from a client. I had to go back to my office to consult a file, so Meagan gave me her address and suggested that I show up at her house after I finished with my business. That was the last time I ever saw her.”

  “So what time did you get to her house?”

  “I think it was around 8:00 pm. I saw her Prius parked there so I knew it was the right place. I thought it was kind of odd that the front door was wide open. I called out to Meagan but there was no reply. I figured, maybe she’d left the door open for me so I walked in. One of the lamps had been knocked over and I didn’t think much of it, so I returned it to the table; but then, as I looked around some more, other stuff had been knocked over, like there’d been a burglary or a fight of some kind. I got a bad feeling in my gut. I went down the hall and found her bedroom. There was blood on the bed sheets and I knew something bad had happened. I called 911 right away and tried not to touch anything else.”

  “So you stayed there until the cops came?” I asked.

  “Yes. The detective in charge questioned me for hours. The police treated me like a suspect at first until I offered my fingerprints and a sample of my DNA. I thought they might actually arrest me.”

  “Did you tell the police about the mystery person Meagan was having a problem with?”

  “Of course I did but I didn’t have a name to give them or any information about the person at all. They asked me about any cars I might have seen driving away from Meagan’s house on my way there. Only thing I remember seeing was a dark-colored van but I’m still not sure about that. It was pretty dark out.”

  “Let’s revisit your coffee date earlier that evening,” I said. “What did you and Meagan talk about, specifically?”

  “She talked about her dad most of the time. I guess he had a pretty bad fall the month before and has serious health problems. She had moved back into the house she grew up in, to take care of things, hoping her father’s injuries were only temporary.”

  “Did Meagan talk to you about her work?”

  “She told me she worked for a Pediatric dentist. She liked her job but her boss was a little too flirty—”

  “Flirty?” Carter interjected. “You mean sexual harassment flirty?”

  “I don’t think it was that serious.” He shrugged. “Besides, she was half joking when she mentioned it.”

  “Did Meagan mention old boyfriends?” I asked.

  He paused to think about that. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Did Meagan ever mention anyone by the name of Graham Taylor to you?”

  Cliff straightened and, for a split second, something flickered in his eyes. “That name sounds familiar,” he said. “Who is he?”

  I chose to leave out the part about him being a known drug addict and male prostitute. “He was reported missing the day after Meagan’s disappearance but the police haven’t found a connection between them.”

  He shrugged apologetically.

  “Forgive me for getting personal here,” I said, hesitantly. “Were you dating anyone else last April?”

  He paused, tugging at his earlobe, evading my stare. “I’ve been dating a woman on and off for a few years. We weren’t seeing each other when I met Meagan.”

  I waited for him to continue and, when he didn’t, I asked, “Do you mind telling me her name?”

  He cleared his throat nervously. “Her name is Heather Madison and, I should probably tell you, we got engaged last month.”

  “Really?” I said with surprise. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “I wasn’t going to mention it because, well, I just thought it might be a delicate topic considering the reason you’re here.”

  I made a loose hand gesture that was meant to express my understanding. I also noticed that Cliff was growing anxious and was probably hoping to wrap up our meeting sooner rather than later. Since Carter didn’t seem to have any more questions, I grabbed my purse and rose to my feet. “I think we’re all set, Mr. Collins, we really appreciate your taking the time to talk to us.”

  Cliff shook our hands again and said, not too convincingly, “Are you sure you don’t have any more questions for me?”

  “Not at the moment,” I replied. “We might need to contact you again, however, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure,” he said, with a polite nod. “You know where to find me.”

  Back in the Buick, Carter thumbed through his notes as we discussed our meeting with Cliff Collins.

  “What do you think about his story?” he asked me. “Particularly about his date with Meagan?”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing, I don’t believe he was planning to go to Meagan’s house to watch a movie.” I rolled my eyes. “He wanted to get laid.”

  “Exactly; although Meagan doesn’t seem like the type of girl to sleep with a guy on the first date.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe she invited him back to her place with no intention of sleeping with him.”

  Carter looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Really? You think she was that naïve?”

  “Most women with half a brain know that if you give it up on the first date, the chances of him calling you back go down drastically. Unless, of course, a woman has some amazing tricks up her sleeve or, should I say, down her pants.”

  Carter regarded me with a neutral expression on his face. “Well, personally, I’m not a fan of premature infatuation: slow and steady works for me.”

  I chuckled at his choice of words. “So you’ve never slept with a woman on the first date?”

  “Well.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a faint smile. “Sure, back when I was young and stupid. Now I’m old and perhaps a little less stupid.”

  “You are not old,” I said, leaving it at that. “But getting back to Cliff, I’m intrigued by the reason Meagan went to see him in the first place. She was definitely having problems with someone and not specifically a man.”

  Carter glanced at his watch with a sigh. “It’s almost five. What time are you expecting Max tonight?”

  I had to admit, I had completely forgotten all about it. “Oh crap, he’s coming at six.”

  “Then I should get you home. We’ve done enough for one day.”

  Carter didn’t have much to say as he drove me home but I could guess what he was thinking. Would I change my mind about moving away with Max?

  Just as the Buick pulled up to my apartment and stopped, I didn’t know what to say.

  Finally, he smiled at me and patted my hand, “Off you go. Good luck tonight.”

  Chapter 5

  I’m sure nobody looks forward to the act of breaking up with someone. Thankfully, I’ve only had to do it a few times in my life. Breaking up with a cheating asshole can be invigorating. Dumping a wonderful man who has done nothing wrong in particular? Well, it just sucks.

  Max has been a great boyfriend, albeit his perpetual absence due to work. I can’t blame him for that; he’s only been trying to better his position in life.

  The writing has been on the wall for months. Moving clear across the country was not what I ever wanted, which has made it easier to accept our fate.


  Yet I found myself fussing with my hair and make-up and taking too long to choose a flattering pair of jeans and top. Why did I care what I looked like?

  When Max showed up at my apartment at five minutes to six, he barely had a moment to put his backpack down because I took him in my arms and held him tightly. I breathed in the smell of him; that wonderful scent of his pine soap mixed with aftershave.

  “Hey, you,” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist. “I missed you, too.”

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, my face nuzzled into his neck. It was all I could think of to say. My guilt had rendered me speechless.

  He slowly pulled away and looked at my face. He knew something was wrong. “Sorry about what?”

  I just shook my head, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me.

  Max’s shoulders slumped. He stated “You’re not going to San Francisco with me, are you.”

  It wasn’t a question and, therefore, I didn’t feel the need to answer. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. Apparently, those were the only two words left in my vocabulary.

  Max stood there for a moment as if waiting for me to break down laughing, like it was all a big joke but, of course, I didn’t.

  “What changed your mind?” he finally said.

  I’d rehearsed the inevitable response many times in my head but now faced with the actual question, my brain failed me. So I did my best to divert the subject until I had some liquid courage. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  He sighed, nodded and dropped into the couch. “Sure, why not. I think I could use some right about now.”

  I turned on my heel and went to the kitchen to fetch the bottle of red that I’d already opened. I poured two glasses and joined him on the couch.

  Max ran a hand through his wavy, brown hair and made an effort to smile. He took a sip of wine and took his time. I could practically read his thoughts. He must have been confused as hell.

  Finally, he looked at me with those puppy dog eyes. “I have to admit, this is not how I saw this evening playing out. I figured this evening would be more of a celebration.”

  I had to stop myself from saying I was sorry, yet again. Max deserved an explanation, not platitudes. So I took a sip of wine, swallowed and decided to tell him the truth - or at least a good portion of it. “You know how hard I’ve worked to start a new career. I have Carter to thank for that and it wouldn’t be right to leave him now.”

  Max slowly nodded but said nothing.

  I continued, “Also, I’ll admit that I’m afraid. What if things don’t work out with us in California? What if you discover that I’m not so easy to live with?”

  “C’mon,” he said. “You’re a risk taker. I thought you’d be up for an adventure. Besides, you’re the easiest person to get along with.”

  “I have too much to lose,” I said, resolutely, “and I’ve learned my lesson to not put all my eggs in one basket.”

  “If you go to California with me, I promise I won’t break your eggs, Sarah.”

  I smiled at his attempt to humor me but he must have realized there was no point in trying to change my mind. He finished off his glass of wine and set it on the side table.

  I braced myself for what I thought would be an uncomfortable good-bye but, instead of storming out of my apartment in anger, Max surprised me when he offered to take me out to dinner.

  I blinked at him. “Are you sure? You’re not upset with me?”

  He leaned back and shook his head. “I have no reason to be upset with you, Sarah. I mean, I’m not thrilled about your decision but I understand it.”

  I let out a deep sigh of relief. What had I expected? Of course Max was cool about this. Maybe he was even relieved in some ways. Maybe deep down he feared it wouldn’t work out.

  He laughed at the tight expression on my face. “Did you really think I’d be pissed?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t want you to think I was jerking you around.”

  “I know you better than that.” He chuckled. “You don’t jerk people around unless you’re working, of course.”

  Max reached out for my hand and pulled me up from the couch. He smiled down at me, hands cupping my face. He leaned in, kissed me softly on the lips and then pulled away. My heart ached, knowing this would probably be our last supper. Suddenly, the tears came and I couldn’t stop them.

  Max wrapped his arms around me, caressing my back and we rocked back and forth in that embrace for some time. Finally, I looked up at him and laughed. “You know I’m not a crier, right? So I hope you take this as a compliment.”

  He smiled, wiped away my tears with his thumb and whispered, “This is not a good-bye, Sarah. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  I didn’t know what he meant by that but I didn’t ask. I let him take me out to dinner.

  I only wish I could have remembered it.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning I woke up in bed wearing only my underwear. I had a raging headache and it took me a few seconds to remember why.

  Max had taken me out to our favorite Mexican restaurant and, for the first hour, I remember feeling so relieved. I was impressed with Max’s gracious attitude for not being upset that I’d changed my mind about moving away with him. However, at some point after my third margarita, things got rather fuzzy. How many more drinks had I guzzled? I couldn’t remember.

  Not good.

  At one point, I do recall Max having to help me up to my apartment and putting me to bed. Obviously he’d undressed me, but why? Had I puked all over myself? God, I hoped not!

  The clock on my nightstand told me it was just past 8:00 am, so I grabbed my robe and went to the kitchen. I half expected Max to be sitting at the kitchen table with coffee mug in hand and a sleepy smile on his face. I looked around for a note and was mildly disappointed not to find one.

  He must have recently made a pot of coffee because the aroma of fresh ground French Roast filled the air.

  I paused, listening to the sound of birds chirping happily through an opened window. I advanced to the window and looked out toward the street where Max usually parked his Jeep. Gone.

  As I poured myself a cup of coffee, I briefly wondered if we’d had sex the night before. No, I definitely would have remembered that. Since my nether regions didn’t feel the slightest bit sore, I realized that Max had not taken advantage of my drunken stupidity.

  I dearly hoped I hadn’t made an ass of myself. I didn’t want Max’s last memory of me being a sloppy drunk.

  When I emerged from the shower ten minutes later, I felt like a new woman with the help of a few Advil. Carter called around 8:30, said he was on his way to pick me up. We had a meeting to see Dr. Amos, the pediatric dentist, at 9:00.

  I did the best I could to cover the bags under my eyes with make-up. A few drops of Visine helped with the redness. My long brown hair was a lost cause and I didn’t feel like fussing with it, so I tied it back in a ponytail.

  * * *

  The first thing Carter asked me when I got into the Buick was how the discussion went with Max. What could I say?

  “He took it pretty well,” I said.

  Carter remained silent and I knew he was waiting for more details.

  So I continued. “He offered to take me out to dinner and I figured it might be the last time we saw each other in a while. Once he’s in California permanently, I can’t imagine our paths will cross again.” I realized it sounded like an excuse, but it was true.

  He finally looked at me. “Are you okay with how it ended?”

  “Yeah. I’m good with it. I know it was the right decision.”

  Carter gave a satisfied sigh and I could see his shoulders relax. He shifted the car into drive and pulled out into the street heading towards downtown. “Not to change the subject but I got more information about Cliff Collins’s fiancée. Heather Madison is twenty-nine and she’s the daughter of Luke Madison. Does the name ring a bell?”

  “Luke Madison?” The name mea
nt nothing to me. “Should it?”

  “Well, he’s a Senator and his wife is a Supreme Court Judge. Their only daughter graduated from Harvard but she’s not currently working. Planning a wedding seems to be her only future endeavor. It’s all she brags about on her Facebook page.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But why do you think she’s important to our case?”

  “Hear me out for a second. What if Heather saw Cliff having coffee with Meagan? Maybe she followed Meagan back to her house that night and killed her in a jealous rage.”

  I gave it some thought but I just couldn’t buy it. “Meagan and Cliff only met that day. Even if Heather was an insanely jealous person, to kill Meagan after only one date seems a bit far-fetched, unless Cliff lied to us. Maybe he and Meagan had more than one date.”

  “Ah,” Carter said. “That would make more sense as to why Meagan invited him back to her house.”

  “Unless Heather is a bodybuilder, I can’t imagine she could drag a hundred and twenty pound body into her car all by herself without leaving some kind of evidence. Unless she dragged her out to the woods and buried her?”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure,” he said. “Heather’s name never came up in the police report so I bet they never talked to her or even considered her a person of interest.”

  “It’s worth looking into.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “Because I happen to know where she is right now: at the Bridgeport Spa getting a manicure.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, she posted it on Facebook.”

  “Of course.”

  I pumped my fist in the air. “Nice. I love when people make it easy for us.”

  * * *

  The Bridgeport Spa is a wonderful, enchanting place to go, provided you like paying triple the amount for any given spa service they offer. The last time I set foot in this place was five years ago, after my ex Daniel gave me a $25.00 gift certificate for my birthday. It was a sweet gesture but, needless to say, there wasn’t a single service I could buy for that amount of money. The cheapest item on their spa menu was $30.00 and that was for an upper lip wax. I hadn’t needed an upper lip wax so I opted for the next cheapest item, which was an eyebrow wax; that was, as it turned out, to be a huge mistake. The woman used so much wax on my brows that when she was done, I looked in the mirror and almost fainted. My once thick brows were suddenly reduced to ultra-thin arched lines over my eyes that made me look like a mannequin and not in a good way. Devastated, I left the place without leaving a tip. It took six very long weeks to grow my eyebrows back to normal.