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04 Lowcountry Bordello(9)

By:Susan M Boyer


“And exactly what are his duties?” I asked.

“I told you. He’s the handyman. He fixes things and runs errands. What do handymen normally do?”

Colleen shook her head. I took that to mean there was more to the story.

“And tonight?” Nate asked.

“Aunt Dean called me this morning. She wanted to talk, but not on the phone. When I got there, she told me about an idea she had to enlist the aid of some of the gentlemen who pay for rooms for their ‘nieces.’ She figured they could take care of Seth. They’d have a vested interest.”

Nate’s voice was casual. “In what sense do you suppose she meant they could ‘take care’ of Seth? Do you think she planned to have him evicted?”

“We didn’t get into details,” Olivia said. “Aunt Dean is often vague about unpleasantries.”

Colleen snorted.

I ignored her. “So, Olivia, tell us exactly what happened from the time you parked your car in front of the house until I arrived.”

She sipped her bourbon, drew a ragged breath. “I got there at seven and let myself in. The entire downstairs was dark. I didn’t turn on any lights. I didn’t want to see anyone, and I didn’t want anyone to see me. I went straight upstairs to Aunt Dean’s room. It has a sitting area. That’s where she asked me to come. We talked for a while, thirty minutes or so. Then I told her goodnight and came back downstairs.

“The light was on in the front parlor.” Her voice grew louder, anxious. She looked at Robert. “I swear on our children there was a body, facedown on the floor.” She went to sobbing again. “I thought it was you.”

“What in the world would I be doing there?” Robert asked. Something in his voice caught my attention.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you followed me. Because it looked like you. I mean, I couldn’t see his face. But his hair, his build…and he was wearing khakis and a checked button-down shirt, just like you are right this very minute.”

I pondered that for a few seconds. Khakis and button-down shirts were common attire for men in our part of the world. Still. “Robert, just so we have all the facts, you haven’t left the house this evening, is that right?”

“Well, yes. I mean, no…I did go out for a while. I had a dinner meeting with a client over in Charleston. Had to get a babysitter for a couple hours since Olivia wasn’t home.”

My BS alarm went off. “Robert, we can’t help you if you are less than forthcoming. You of all people should know what it’s like to have a client hold things back.”

He heaved a deep sigh. “Dammit to hell. You wouldn’t follow her. After you left my office, I arranged for a babysitter, then I tailed Olivia myself when she went out. Fortunately the ferry had a full load on the six o’clock trip. I was afraid she’d see my car. When she parked in front of that house, I pulled to the curb half a block away. I sat outside for fifteen minutes after she went in. Then I followed her. She’d left the doors unlocked. But I didn’t see a soul. I couldn’t find Olivia. I didn’t want to go shouting through the house, get arrested for trespassing.”

“What the hell, Robert? Why didn’t you tell us that to begin with?” I asked.

Olivia gaped at him.

“You were there?”

“Well, yes, and I’m not proud of it. Skulking around strangers’ houses…But as you can see, I’m quite alive.”

This was getting messier by the minute.

“This just keeps getting better,” said Colleen. “What we need is popcorn.”

“Did you go into the front parlor?” I asked.

“Yes. But I most certainly did not see a body.”

“So you turned on the light?” I asked.

“No. I had a flashlight.”

“You didn’t see anyone else?” I asked.

“No, but I heard doors opening and closing, footsteps, creaking floorboards, when I was in the back of the house. Other people were there. I just didn’t see who.”

“How much of the house did you go through?” Nate asked.

“Just the downstairs. I wasn’t in there more than fifteen minutes, tops. I started to go upstairs. But then I felt ridiculous, following my wife around, going uninvited into someone’s home.” He reddened. “And I guess I was afraid of what I’d find upstairs. Usually that’s where the bedrooms are.”

“Robert Pearson.” Olivia mustered indignation. “How could you think such a thing?”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?”

I said, “So Olivia went in and headed straight upstairs. You came in fifteen minutes later and looked around downstairs. You came back out at roughly seven thirty. Then what did you do?”