Page 56 of Deadly Sacrifice

“We got the originals from the photographer of the event, and my investigator was going through them and found this photo.” Lei handed over another enlarged picture—the one that showed Helen, her husband, and Bill Wilkinson with his hand on Helen’s behind. Lei watched Helen’s face closely.

The widow gazed at the picture a moment; then, she sagged visibly, the hand holding the picture settling to her lap. She glanced at Lei. “What do you want to know?”

“I wanted to get your take,” Lei said. “It looks like this guy Bill has his hand on your butt. We’re just trying to clarify what was going on.”

“Bill Wilkinson can’t keep his hands to himself.”

“Did you say anything to him, or to your husband about it?”

Helen stared out the window again at the mountains, where purple shadows had gathered in the folds of the land as the light faded. “When we first came to Maui, I didn’t know anyone on the island, but I’m used to that. We’ve lived temporarily in three different places since our marriage, a couple of years each time.” She shook her head. “Since the wedding, we’ve spent more time in rental homes than in our own home in California. And it was exciting at first. A new place to explore, new adventures to be had. That faded though, because David is always gone—sorry,wasalways gone—many hours every day. Plus a lot of late nights and the occasional weekend business trip. Sometimes there were other spouses around, alone like I was, and we’d form a wives’ club, our own little adventuring and support group—but I’ve been alone a lot.”

“Okay, but this guy . . .” Lei prompted.

“It’s not a short story,” Helen said. “Bear with me. David . . . was a very virile man. I gave him everything he seemed to want in the bedroom, but he had some unusual tastes and a roving eye. I don’t do S&M, and I don’t do threesomes, okay?”

Lei nodded, her expression carefully neutral.

“I was aware that David had flings, but I kept my mouth shut. I was ‘the wife’, after all, and intended to remain so. He always treated me well, gave me whatever I wanted. I knew he loved me as much as he was capable of.”

“So you were aware that your husband was having affairs? Did you confront him about them?” Lei asked.

“They were more sexual encounters than affairs. They never lasted very long, from what I could tell. And before you ask, yes, I’m pretty sure he’d had a couple of these flings since we arrived here. For the longest time, I was sure he had a thing for Cheryl Goodwin—the one who was killed.” Helen met Lei’s gaze. “It’s strange to be talking about them like this. I have the hardest time believing they’re gone. I find myself listening for David’s keys in the door, or his car in the driveway. I still check my phone regularly in case I’ve missed one of his calls or texts. I still wake up in the morning and look over at his side of the bed, expecting to see him there.” She seemed to have lost the thread of her story as she looked down at the photo in her hand, then set it on the coffee table. “I wonder how long it will take to sink in.”

“Do you have any names or info that might help us find these other women David had relationships with? We might need to follow up on them, to see if that leads anywhere.”

Helen shook her head. “No. No incriminating text messages, no lipstick on the collar, no undies on the floor. He was discreet.” Her aqua-blue eyes gleamed. “Are you married?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Trust me on this: if your husband ever starts cheating on you, you’ll know,” Helen said. “A wife can tell.”

Lei hoped she’d never have to wonder about that. So far, she and Stevens had made it through many a challenge without breaking any vows. She brought Helen’s attention back to the subject at hand as she tapped the photo. “So, this guy Bill . . .”

“It was embarrassing,” Helen said. “Bill made a move on me. I suspect he caught wind of David fooling around and thought I might be available. He started hanging around, talking to me at company functions, inviting me to lunch, things like that. He wasn’t really a jerk, just kind of a pest. I couldn’t bring myself to be mean to him, and truth was, it was nice to have a little attention. I kept hoping David would notice and get jealous; instead, he’d make fun of Bill and tease me about the crush Bill had on me.” Helen sighed. “Bill is probably forty years old, and still plays video games.”

“Tech geek. I know the kind you mean,” Lei said.

“Bill was a contractor, part of the support team, but I got the feeling that he really wanted to be part of that inner circle that was made up of my husband, Cheryl, Kleftes and Noble. Those with a real stake in the project.” She stood up. “I’m going to fix a drink. Sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m good.”

Helen went into the kitchen, pulled a bottle of chardonnay out of the refrigerator door, filled a long-stemmed glass to the brim, and returned with it in hand. “Bill started calling me. I was going through one of my bleaker periods, and it was nice to think someone was interested in me. He’s a big guy—tall, broad shoulders—and he was making the bald thing work. He’d flirt with me on the phone, say these outrageous things. That he knew how to satisfy me, that he’d make my life wonderful. Stuff like that.

“One evening, four or five months ago, there was another big networking company dinner down by the shore. A hundred people or so. I got a little drunk, and he and I went for a walk. It seemed innocent at the time. That path along the shoreline in Wailea, you know the one? It has some great views, and some nice, secluded places. Bill pulled me behind some trees and started kissing me. I let him at first, but then he started feeling me up, and I said no. Finally, I told him to stop and slapped his hands. He apologized, said he got carried away.

“He called me the next day, declared his eternal love, and wanted to know what it would take for me to be his girl. That’s what he said, swear to God: ‘be my girl.’ I told him that I was flattered, but that I was married, and nothing was going to change that. He quit calling after that.”

Helen drank a large gulp of wine and set the glass down a little hard; wine splashed on her hand. “That’s my sordid little story. That picture was taken almost a year ago. Before I told him to stop calling me.”

“Okay. Thank you again for your time. I should be going; I’ve got a long drive home. How much longer will you be on the island?” Lei asked.

“At least a week. We need to pack up the house. I’m doing David’s funeral in California after I get back there. I’ll let you know when we’ll be leaving.”

“Thank you again. This was very helpful.” Helen followed Lei to the door and Lei pointed to the open gate. “Keep that thing closed, okay? At least until we have someone in custody.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Lei waved goodbye as she drove out onto the street and was glad to see the gate glide closed behind her vehicle as she drove away.

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