Intimate Relations by Rebecca Forster (most popular ebook readers TXT) 📕

"But they were more than that," Cori argued. "They were aggressively arrogant. Someone knew who that woman was—maybe they all did—but Bev was the only one other than the man with the knife who was angry."

"Bev may have gone astray," Finn said. "But she murdered no one. I swear that on my life."

"I didn't say she did," Cori said. "I'm saying that she's taking a calculated risk keeping that pretty mouth of hers shut."

"I would have known if she was lying to me." Finn defended her again.

"And can you tell if she's lying by omission?"

Cori knew she had Finn on a spot. His ex moved out and served him with papers as soon as he was released from the hospital. He never saw it coming. That woman had lived her lie until the very last minute.

"Dis girl who be dead? Did she go to dis party wit'out her bag?"  Geoffrey pushed his plate back, turning his long narrow face from one detective to the other.

"We didn't find a purse," Finn said.

"And they use made up names partly to promote the fantasy and partly to protect themselves," Cori said. "But this group was an Asylum subset, hand picked. They are so rich, so much masters of their own fate, that I doubt belonging to this club would have major consequences if the public knew of their extracurricular activities."

"No man likes to be put upon, but a rich man most of all." Finn tossed his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back. "If what Bev said was true, there was at least one man who was worried."

"Den it be dat man who killed her." Geoffrey said.

"He wasn't there," Cori reminded him.

"Could be nobody see him, " Geoffrey persisted.

"Maybe there are other ways in and out," Cori said. "We could have missed something."

"I don't see how that could be, but we'll look again," Finn said, but his mind was still on the motive. "Perhaps it's shame we're looking at. Money doesn't mean someone can't be ashamed of what they are doing."

Cori laughed, "God I love you, Finn. You are such a—"

"Fine heart," Geoffrey said.

"Thank you, Geoffrey," Finn said. "And 'tis a possibility. Perhaps there was a Catholic among them. Aren't we the masters of shame and guilt?"

"That dog ain't gonna hunt, O'Brien." Cori crossed her arms on the table.  "It's all about having fun and controlling their destinies. Two of those guys are major players. They lunch with presidents, and I can think of  one or two presidents who might have a mask and tuxedo in their closet."

Cori's finger tapped the table, outlined a circle, and kept tapping the middle of it as she spoke.

"Brand is everything, and those people know it. The last thing they want are the Me Too broads digging their teeth into the jugular, or evangelicals up their asses, or BLM on their doorstep. That kind of crap would bleed out their money so fast. For all the Asylum nonsense, they are practical people. There is a lot to protect, and brand is to be protected at all costs."

"And dis dead girl?  If she be as mean as de ex-wife say, O'Brien, maybe she be mean to more den one of dees guys."

"Hearsay, speculation, wishful thinking," Finn concluded. "Until we know who she was and how she was going to make trouble, we don't have a path to walk down. There is a huge difference between tattling to a wife and bringing someone of great power to his knees."

"And that's my cue. I'm headed off to the morgue."

Cori dabbed at her lips with her napkin and then tossed it atop Finn's. He smiled, liking it better when her lips weren't the color of the sunset. "

"Thanks for seeing to it, Cori" Finn said.

"Not a problem. I have to be there anyway to wrap up the report on that last file we had for Fowler," she said.

"He'll be appreciating that." Finn pushed back his chair. "I'm back to The Brewery.  Not that I don't trust Officers Hunter and Douglas's canvass. It's just that they didn't seem all that invested in their work."

"And I be waitin' on da delivery, then I be goin' back to da bed. Good luck findin' out who did dat mean girl."

Geoffrey gathered up an armload of dishes. He called out once more as the detectives were going through the door.

"You be forgettin' the old missus, O'Brien. She good as dead to you, O'Brien. Dat be de ting makin' you happy."

Finn gave him a wave. His heart was fine, but it would take a lot to convince Geoffrey that he had been comfortable with his divorce for a good long while. Still, Bev was on his mind: her anger, her transformation, her hatred of the victim. Everyone in that place was suspect, and Bev could be no exception.

Finn wished Cori luck and turned left, going for his car that was a block down. Cori's was in front of Mick's. She got in, and watched her partner in her rearview mirror. Satisfied Finn was walking tall and happy, Cori put on her seat belt. She adjusted her mirror, gave her lips another shellacking, and put on her sunglasses. As she gave her teased hair a little pick up and thought about what Geoffrey had said about the mean girl.

He meant the girl on the slab, but Bev had outed herself as a mean girl too. Though Cori didn't let on in front of Finn, this hard-edged turn in Bev was no mystery to Cori. There was a nagging thought that the ex missus Finn O'Brien might be mean enough to bash a woman's face in. She had, after all, left a bloody trail when she ripped Finn's heart out. The next logical step for Bev if she was threatened might be to take out the competition for real.

Cori dropped her gloss into her purse and pulled into traffic knowing that there was a silver lining.  The blow Bev