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Authors: Isis Crawford

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BOOK: A Catered St. Patrick's Day
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“And feisty too,” Connor said.
“I like that in a woman,” Liam added.
Libby ignored them and went on with what she was saying. “We need to find Liza.”
“Good for you,” Liam told her.
“My sister and I are working for your pal Duncan. Liza has information that could be valuable to his defense.”
“Hurray for you,” Liam said.
“It would be real helpful to Duncan if we could find her,” Bernie said.
“Well, we all want to be helpful to Duncan, don’t we?” Liam asked Patrick.
Patrick nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Without a doubt,” Connor said.
Liam turned to Patrick. “Have you seen Liza?”
Patrick shook his head.
He turned to Connor. “Have you?”
“Nope.”
He turned back to Bernie and Libby. “And I know that I haven’t. Any more questions?”
“Yeah,” Bernie said. “Where do you think she went?”
Liam shrugged. “How would I know?”
“You’re her friend, aren’t you?” Libby asked.
Liam took another sip of his drink before replying. “In a manner of speaking.”
“What manner of speaking is that?” Bernie asked.
“Listen,” Liam said, “she’s a drinking buddy. That’s it. You want to know any more you’ll have to ask Duncan.”
“We already have. He doesn’t know anything. That’s why we’re here.”
“Well, you could have saved yourself the trip,” Patrick said. “Because we haven’t seen her since that night.”
Bernie took a deep breath. “Does she take off like this often?” she asked.
Connor shrugged. “Often enough. She’s not what you would call the most stable of people.”
“Not at all,” Liam agreed.
“Do you think Liza would put knockout drops in Duncan’s drink?” Libby asked.
Liam burst out laughing. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No, she’s not,” Bernie said.
“Why would she do that?” Patrick asked. “That is by far one of the stupidest things I have ever heard.”
“Well, Duncan says he was set up for Mike Sweeney’s murder and that he doesn’t remember anything after the first beer he had that night, hence the assumption that Liza put something in his drink. Unless you did.”
Connor untied his tie, then pulled it off, folded it up, and put it in his breast pocket. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” he scoffed. “Duncan’s nuts, and if you believe him, you’re nuts too.”
“So you think that Duncan killed Mike Sweeney?” Bernie asked him.
“I didn’t say that,” Connor said sharply.
“Then who do you think did?” Bernie asked.
“How about a pissed off leprechaun,” Liam said. “I understand they have very bad tempers when aroused.”
Libby took a step closer. “Maybe one of you killed Mike Sweeney,” she said.
“Maybe one of us did,” Patrick agreed. He grinned. “Good luck proving it though.”
“So you want Duncan to take the fall for this?” Bernie asked.
“Duncan will be fine,” Liam said. “He’ll come out of it smelling like a rose.”
“A wild Irish rose,” Patrick added.
“You don’t seem very sad about Mike Sweeney’s death,” Bernie observed.
“Of course, I’m sad,” Liam said. “We just grieve in our own ways.”
“And what way is that?” Libby asked.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Liam asked.
“Not to me,” Libby said.
“We drink,” Liam said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me I think it’s time for Connor and Patrick and me to get down to the serious business of mourning.” And he turned around and faced the bar.
Bernie studied the three men for a moment. Then she said to Libby, “Come on. I think we’re through here.”
They were going out the door when Liam’s wife, Kylie, brushed by them. She stormed over to Liam, slapped him across the face, and marched back out.
Libby looked at Bernie and Bernie looked at Libby. They both thought the same thing.
An angry wife? This was too good an opportunity to waste. By the time they were out the door, Liam’s wife had gotten into her silver Infiniti and was backing out of the parking lot.
“I’m driving,” Bernie said, as she and Libby ran for their van.
Chapter 8
 
T
he Infiniti was a quarter of the way down the block by the time Bernie had muscled the van out of the parking lot.
“Hurry up,” Libby cried. “You’re going to lose her.”
“I’m trying,” Bernie told Libby as she gained on the Infiniti. “I’m not exactly driving a BMW here, you know.”
The Infiniti turned onto Randall Road and so did the sisters. By now they were three car lengths behind Kylie. Fortunately traffic was heavy, otherwise Kylie would have left them in the dust.
“I wonder what Kylie was so pissed about,” Libby said.
“It’ll be interesting to talk to her,” Bernie observed.
“Do you think she will? Talk to us?” Libby asked.
“Not a clue,” Bernie said. She kept her eyes on the silver Infiniti.
“She might just tell us to go to hell,” Libby said.
“She might,” Bernie agreed. “But then again, she might not.”
“Which we won’t know until we try.”
“Exactly,” Bernie said.
“And she did seem really, really angry at Liam,” Libby continued.
“Indeed she did. That was not a love tap she gave him. So she might be more disposed to talk about things she’d otherwise prefer to keep hidden.”
“Anger does that to people,” Libby observed.
“Like you,” Bernie said.
“And you, Bernie.”
“I never said ^v wed/sp it didn’t, Libby.”
The sisters were silent for a moment. Bernie concentrated on Kylie’s car, while Libby thought about how they were going to talk to Kylie when they caught up with her.
“I think she’s going to the mall,” Libby said as the Infiniti turned off onto Ash.
“Oh goody,” Bernie said. “We can get you some clothes while we’re there. I love multitasking.”
Libby frowned. She hated shopping, especially shopping with her sister. She made her try things on. “We won’t have time.”
Bernie grinned. “Trust me, Libby. There’s always time to shop.”
Neither sister said anything else until after Bernie had parked the van and they’d walked into the mall. During the weekend the place was packed, but this was a weekday afternoon and no one was around. After five minutes of looking, Bernie and Libby spied Kylie at Banana Republic. She was browsing through a rack full of pencil skirts in various patterns.
“Hi,” Bernie said to her.
Kylie turned. She was holding a black and white tweed pencil skirt in her left hand and a brown and white checked one in her right. Bernie reflected that Kylie was one of those natural blondes who are stunning when they’re eighteen and faded by the time they’re thirty. At twenty-five she was well on her way to the negative side of the equation. Of course, Bernie thought, the fact that Kylie wasn’t wearing any makeup didn’t help matters.
Neither did the fact that she’d gained about thirty pounds since Bernie had last seen her, a sure sign that things were not going well. Hence the muffin top spilling over the top of her skinny jeans. Some people, Bernie decided, should not wear skinny jeans. No. Cancel that thought. Most people shouldn’t wear skinny jeans. They didn’t do anyone any favors.
“I think I’d go for the black and white tweed,” Bernie told Kylie. “You’ll get more wear out of it.”
Kylie spun around. “I just saw you in the bar,” she said.
“I know,” Bernie gushed. “Life is just one big coincidence, isn’t it?”
Kylie frowned. “And now you’re here.”
Bernie smiled her winningest smile. “So it would seem. Great minds with a single thought and all that.” She leaned in. “My sister and I are going shopping.”
Kylie glanced at Libby and frowned. “I so don’t believe that. What do you want with me?”
Bernie kept smiling. “Would you believe we’re here to give you some fashion advice?”
“Right.” Kylie put both skirts back and moved to the next rack.
Bernie moved with her, while Libby stayed slightly in the background.
“They are a little pricy for what they are,” Bernie noted. “I used to like Banana more two or three years ago.”
Kylie didn’t say anything.
“Okay, you got me,” Bernie conceded. “We followed you here.”
Kylie stopped at a display of cardigans. She lifted up a bright pink sweater, held it to her, then put it down and walked on. “There’s a shocker.”
“We want to talk to you about Liam.”
Kylie moved on to the rack of white blouses. Libby and Bernie followed.
“That’s nice,” Kylie told Bernie as she looked through the merchandise. “Because I don’t want to talk to you. About anything. coutice So if you don’t mind, could you please leave me alone?”
And Kylie pulled a long-sleeved, white cotton blouse with a Peter Pan collar off the rack, walked over to the mirror, and held the blouse up in front of her. She studied her reflection in the mirror, cocking her head first to one side and then to the other.
Libby moved closer. Kylie ignored her.
“It must be hard,” Libby said softly, “going through what you’re going through with Liam.”
Kylie turned to face her. “How do you know I’m going through anything?” she demanded.
“You looked pretty upset to me back in the bar,” Bernie told her.
Kylie frowned, walked over, and hung the blouse back where she’d found it.
“How long have you been married?” Libby asked.
“A year. A year and a half,” Kylie said, still looking at the blouses.
“Not that long,” Bernie commented.
“Long enough,” Kylie replied. There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice.
“He wasn’t what you thought he’d be?” Libby asked gently.
Kylie shook her head and avoided eye contact. She pulled out a blouse and put it back. Bernie and Libby waited for her to start talking. They knew that she would. It would just take a little time, and they could wait.
“I mean I knew Liam had issues,” Kylie said when she did start to speak. “But he always treated me nice. He took me to Puerto Rico. He took me on a cruise. He bought me jewelry. He got me a car. He even paid for our wedding.”
“Where was that?” Bernie asked.
“The South Street Seaport down in New York City.”
“It must have been lovely. And expensive,” Libby observed.
“It was,” Kylie agreed.
She stopped talking. Bernie and Libby didn’t say anything. They waited some more.
Finally Kylie turned and faced them. “We were going to get this house out on Randall Road,” she explained.
“Nice,” Bernie said.
Randall Road was a big fancy development with houses that started at $750,000 and went up from there.
“But not anymore,” Kylie said.
“Is that why you slapped him?” Bernie asked.
Kylie nodded. “That son of a bitch didn’t even have the decency to tell me that we couldn’t do that anymore. I had to find out from the bank manager. I mean how embarrassing is that?”
“Very,” Bernie said. “What happened?”
Kylie’s body stiffened. “Mike Sweeney is what happened. I told Liam not to give him our money. I told him Sweeney was a loser. But he didn’t listen. Obviously. Because, after all, what do I know?” She jabbed herself in her chest with her thumb. “Being a female and all. Some of that was my money too. He had no right to give it to Sweeney to invest in one of his crazy schemes. Absolutely none.” Kylie waved a finger in the air. “I will never, and I do mean never, have a joint checking account with anyone ever again.”
“I take it Sweeney and Liam were friends?”
“Friends?” Kylie pondered the question for a moment before replying. “Yeah,” she finally said. “I guess you could say that. Most of the time. Although I never got it.”
“How so?” Bernie asked.
“I mean would you be friends with someone who stole your car and wrapped it around a tree?” Kylie asked the sisters.
“Not hardly,” Bernie and Libby said together.
“Me either,” Kylie said. “But Sweeney would do something like that and Liam would rant and rave about it and about how he was going to find Sweeney and kill him and then the next thing I knew they’d go back to being friends again. I mean go figure.”
“They must have had something in common,” Bernie observed.
Kylie snorted. “Yeah. That stupid Corned Beef and Cabbage Club. All they did was sit around and drink and talk about how much money they were going to be making. But as far as I could see, no one was doing very well. Not after 2008.”
“Including Mike Sweeney?” Bernie asked.
“Especially Mike Sweeney,” Kylie said. “He screwed everyone over. In fact, I think he got Duncan fired. Maybe that’s why Duncan killed him.”
Libby took two chocolate kisses out of her pocket and offered one to Kylie, who took it after protesting that she shouldn’t.
When Libby and Kylie had both finished unwrapping the kisses and popping them in their mouths, Libby said, “Duncan is saying he was set up.”
“And I’m the Queen of England,” Kylie retorted.
“Maybe Liam was pissed at Sweeney for losing all his money.”
“Is Duncan saying that Liam set him up?” Kylie asked.
“No,” Bernie said. “He’s saying that Liza did.”
“That skank?”
“Is that what she is?” Bernie asked.
“Yeah. She’s the queen of the skanks, if you ask me.”
“Do you think she could have set Duncan up?” Libby asked.
Kylie laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant one. “I think she could do anything. Especially if there’s money involved.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Bernie asked.
“That she used to work in a strip club somewhere downtown in the city? That she sleeps with anyone who has pants on? And some that don’t? Yeah,” Kylie said, finishing up. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Who is everyone, Kylie?” Libby asked.
“Duncan. Mike. Patrick. Connor. And God knows who else. She probably slept with Brandon as well. ”
“That I doubt,” Bernie said. She could feel her face start to flush.
Kylie spread her hands. “Chill. All I’m saying is that if something walks and talks Liza has made a play for it, be it male or female. She probably does other species too.”
“What about Liam?” Bernie asked her.
Kylie’s voice tightened. “What do you think? Why should he be different from anyone else?”
“When was this?” Bernie asked.
Kylie’s face turned beet red.
“Come on,” Libby coaxed. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Oh yes, it can,” Kylie said.
“Tell us,” Libby said.
Kylie shook her head. “I don’t want to.”
Bernie thought about the worst-case scenario she could imagine and said, “It was durin cItpang your wedding, wasn’t it?”
Kylie covered her face with her hands. “It was so horrible.”
“Did you find them together?” Bernie asked.
“Yes. Right in the room that they keep for the wedding party. I’d forgotten my contact lens case and went back to get it. I saw them and ran out. Liam finally found me. He said it wasn’t his fault. He said she came on to him and he’d never do it again. That he was so drunk he didn’t know what he was doing and that he’d make it up to me.” Kylie put her hands down and touched her diamond studs. “He bought these for me the next day. They’re perfect one carats. A matched set. I mean sometimes guys can’t help themselves, right?”
“Right,” Bernie said.
“And I promised him I’d forgive and forget. And that’s what I’ve done. And as far as I know Liam has never gone near her again. And things have gone pretty well—up until now.”
Libby reached over and gave Kylie a quick hug. “What did Duncan think about Liza’s activities? If what you say is true—and I’m not doubting it is—how come he’s still with her?”
“Oh, he doesn’t know,” Kylie confided. “She tells him she’s going out with the girls and then she goes over to someone’s apartment and does the dirty deed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“And no one is telling him what Liza is doing?” Bernie asked. Somehow she found that difficult to believe.
“No,” Kylie said. “I think the guys are having too much fun putting one over on him.”
“And you haven’t said anything to him?” asked Libby.
Kylie shrugged. “It’s none of my business, and anyway, Liam would have killed me.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “I gotta go. I have to get to the gym.” She pinched her roll. “I’m working on getting this off.” She shook her head. “It’s amazing what a bad marriage can do. I should have left when I caught Liam and Liza together. I mean if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.”
BOOK: A Catered St. Patrick's Day
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