Page 26 of Dirty Liars

I rolled my eyes. Modesty and humility weren’t Dickie’s strong suits.

“But I finally fall in love with a woman, and she makes me think that marriage is worth another shot, even after the disaster of my last marriage. And then she goes off and marries someone else, and I’m left feeling like a fool. Who does that? How did I not see it coming? How do women learn to deceive at such a young age?”

I sat up on the couch slowly, my Spidey-senses tingling.

“Are you talking about Chloe Vasilios?” Jack asked.

“Matthews,” Dickie said. “Chloe Matthews. But sure, you can call her Chloe Vasilios and rub salt in the wound a little deeper. Can I have another drink?”

“No,” Jack said. “You’d already been drinking when you came here. I didn’t realize it until I gave you the last one. I’ll make you some coffee though.”

“You don’t have to be such a cop all the time,” Dickie said, and Jack just stared at him. “Yeah, coffee, whatever.” Dickie looked like a pouty little boy with his arms crossed over his chest.

Jack kept a Keurig and pods in the office because we often had several people crowding the room when we were working a case and it was easier than running back and forth to the kitchen.

“So you were in love with Chloe Matthews, and getting an invitation to her wedding didn’t give you the clue that she was going to go ahead and marry the other person listed on the invitation?” Jack asked.

“We were together long before that backstabbing Greek god came along,” Dickie said.

“How much longer?” Jack asked. “The girl is barely nineteen.”

“Age is just a number,” Dickie said, frowning into the coffee Jack handed him. “This is shit coffee.” But he took a sip anyway.

“Start at the beginning,” Jack said.

“Why?” Dickie asked. “What does it matter? She married someone else and I’ll never see her again. Time to move on to the next. Maybe I should go to Sweden. There are a lot of beautiful women there.”

“You’ve not watched the news today?” I asked.

“Hell no,” he said. “I don’t watch that junk. After the wedding last night I turned off my phone, got in my car and started driving. Five and a half hours later I was in Manhattan. I visited the bar at the Plaza and struck up a conversation with an attractive woman who invited me back to her place. Like an idiot, I declined. Then I turned around and drove back. Got to the bank about seven this morning and crashed in my office. Then I woke up and I helped myself to the liquor cabinet so I could feel sorry for myself in peace. It didn’t work.”

“What time did you leave the wedding?” Jack asked.

“What is this? An interrogation?” Dickie asked, half grinning as he laid his head back on the chair.

“Kind of,” Jack said. “Dickie, Chloe is dead.”

CHAPTEREIGHT

Dickie didn’t even raisehis head. “Yeah, sure. You’re not usually mean with your jokes, but I guess I probably deserve it. Are you sure I can’t have another drink?”

“He’s not kidding, Dickie,” I said, getting to my feet and coming over to stand near Jack. “I did the autopsies this afternoon.”

Dickie’s head lifted slowly and the color drained from his face. “Wait, you’re serious? Chloe is dead? I don’t understand. I just saw her last night.”

“You had sex with her yesterday before the wedding?” Jack asked.

Slashes of red appeared on Dickie’s pale cheeks and he got to his feet angrily. He leaned over the desk so he was in Jack’s face. “How the hell would you know that? Did someone see us?”

“I did the autopsy,” I said. “It was obvious she’d had sex with someone, and it wasn’t her husband. The science doesn’t lie. And after your story, we can put two and two together.”

“Autopsy,” Dickie said softly. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Sit down, Dickie,” Jack said, and Dickie dropped back into his chair.

“You’re not wrong,” I said, feeling my blood pressure rise at the thought of being so stupid. “Someone could have seen you. Especially if you had sex with the bride at the wedding venue where five hundred people were waiting for her to walk down the aisle.” My voice rose in pitch and volume by the time I was done talking. “What were you thinking, Dickie?”

“We’ve been hooking up for months,” Dickie said, coming to his feet again. He paced around the room and kept running his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t think she was serious about getting married. She just wanted his protection, but I told her that I could protect her. I thought she was going to leave him at the altar. We’d made plans.”

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