“What you need to understand, Detectives, is that in our circles, nothing is really secret. We are all in each other’s pockets, especially here in the South. We just don’t talk about dirty laundry—we delight in whispering about it behind our hands, happy that at least others are as miserable as we are ourselves. Yes, I knew about Harry Alexander’s mistresses, as did everybody else in the country club. He even took them there sometimes. Distasteful, if you ask me. David at least had the decency to keep his whores where they belonged. And yes, I also knew about Lawrence’s boyfriend or lover. I never understood how Theodora could be so calm about it, but she did marry him for his status and money, and I guess for somebody from her class, he was like a lottery win no matter who he bedded.”
Andi wasn’t sure if Tamara was a homophobe, a class snob, or simply never had to think about how her words could be perceived. The phrasing sounded harsh and vitriolic, but her tone was pleasant, as if she was simply stating facts. There was no real menace behind it. This was the reality in which she lived, and she had merely described it—or not. Andi had learned to be distrustful of words and tone in equal measure and to be doubly careful when the two didn’t match.
“How would you describe your relationship with Theodora Miller and Sophia McHill? Your husbands were best friends, so you probably met often.” Andi was curious what her reaction here would be. Interestingly, Mr. Dyson didn’t try to intervene. He almost seemed curious himself.
“Our husbands were friends, yes, we’re members in the same country club, though Theodora rarely goes there, we see each other regularly at all the charity functions throughout the year, but we almost never met in private with our husbands. They always preferred being amongst themselves, no doubt to combine business and pleasure without having to be considerate of us.”
It all sounded so arrogant and sad at the same time. Andi didn’t know if he should be angry about Tamara Portius or have pity. He decided to squash both emotions and go for a direct approach.
“You don’t seem to be too sad that your husband is gone, Mrs. Portius.”
The same thing happened as before, when George had mentioned the sex workers her husband had bedded. Like a ripple on a peaceful lake, anger rushed over Tamara Portius’s face, made her eyes flare with a fire Andi easily identified as strong enough to kill. And just like before, Jake Dyson tensed next to her, clearly expecting another outburst. He appeared to know his client very well, already opening his mouth to intervene. But just as quickly as the storm had come, it was all gone, leaving behind a mask cultivated during years of being a member of the upper crust and frozen with Botox. Tamara Portius gave a dramatic sigh, keeping Jake Dyson from whatever he might have wanted to say. Andi was happy because clients were so much more likely to slip up than an old warhorse like Dyson.
“I can see how things are hard for you to understand, Detectives.” Her condescending tone wiped out any pity Andi may have had left. “Let me explain. Did I love my husband? No. Most certainly not. Like almost every marriage in our circles, ours was one of tactics and to unite money with money to get even more of it. My family was wealthier than his, but he was a lawyer, which my father could use for his businesses. The arrangement was made, we had a beautiful wedding, a child, my father got legal advice for practically free, and David climbed new social heights, which in turn helped his law firm along.” At this, she subtly turned toward Dyson, who actually squirmed a bit. Andi had a suspicion that Tamara Portius held more sway over the man than he had assumed. Clearly more than Jake Dyson was comfortable with. Another thing Shireen would have to look into. Tamara kept on talking.
“We both lived our lives, with the promise to be discreet in our less socially acceptable endeavors. I kept my end of the bargain, he didn’t. Now he’s dead and I’m left to deal with the aftermath.”
It was the second time she mentioned affairs she had to take care of. They had to be unpleasant enough to get to her, or else she wouldn’t mention them, however marginally. It would also explain the nervous activity he was getting from the arthropods, not to mention the rapid blinking of Jake Dyson, who was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Whatever it was, it was tied to the law firm in some way. Asking her about it now would only make her lie and alert Dyson, two things they didn’t want at this point. Sometimes it paid to let people steep.
Andi leaned back, silently asking George to end the conversation. His partner got them out quickly, and it was a tie who was more relieved to see them leaving, Tamara Portius or Jake Dyson.
On their way to Sophia McHill, they discussed the things Tamara Portius had said. George glanced at Andi.
“What was it you picked up on when we were there?”
“What makes you think I picked up on anything?”
George chuckled. “You want me to spell it out? Firstly—” He lifted the index finger of his right hand. “—you spaced out. Secondly—” He put the finger back on the steering wheel and lifted it again. “—you were trying to get a rise out of her. You usually do that when you have something too unspecific to directly inquire. You were fishing. Well done, by the way, with her lawyer present. I don’t think he suspected anything. He did seem a bit nervous, though.”
Andi couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips. No matter how dangerous it was that George was getting to know him so well, it was also very nice. And him being so sharp made him an excellent partner.
“Superb detective work. Remember when we met her the first time to tell her David Hector II was dead? The house was bustling with people. Today, we and the lawyer were the only ones there. And there has been a lot of hectic activity during the last few days. Frantic searching, if I read the impressions correctly.”
“Which you always do. Lost testament, do you think?”
“Definitely something important. You heard her. She has to deal with the aftermath. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t just talking about the funeral. Something has gone wrong for her, and the way she acts, I bet my money on, well, money. And Jake Dyson is part of it, up to his neck, and not in a way he enjoys.”
“You have such a talent with words.” George sighed dreamily.
“Ass.” Andi punched him on the thigh, not too hard, he was driving after all. “Let’s see what Sophia McHill has to say.”
At the McHill mansion they were led into the house by Christin, the butler. Sophia was as immaculate as at their first meeting; if anything, her face was even more masklike. She, too, had a lawyer present, a woman named Hilda Doran who Andi guessed to be around fifty. She was more pleasant than Jake Dyson, though that wasn’t too hard, and interestingly enough, she didn’t work for Portius, Dyson & Partners but came from another firm. Sophia McHill looked at them with fake interest.
“Detectives, what brings you back? Do you have good news regarding the killer of my husband?”
George shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Mrs. McHill. There are a lot of people we have to talk to.” George made a meaningful pause. “Which brings us to you, Mrs. McHill. The things our IT department found out led us to believe your husband had a tendency toward domestic violence.”
Andi watched the words sink in. Sophia McHill had a phenomenal grip on herself; Andi had to give her that. All he spied was a slight widening of her pupils and one intake of breath that was a little sharper than the ones before and after. She did look at her lawyer, who cocked her head.
“Your IT department seems to employ some very clever people, Detectives.” Hilda Doran’s voice was calm, neutral.
Waiting for the other shoe to drop, Andi thought.
“We always thought so.” George lowered his voice to a soothing tone, turning back to Sophia. “Were they right?”
Sophia McHill’s posture got even more rigid, and she stuck out her chin defiantly, again looking at her legal counsel. Hilda Doran shrugged. “It’s up to you if you want to answer that question, Sophia. I would advise against it, on the assumption that it could always be used against you.”
“We wouldn’t be invading your privacy like this if we didn’t think it would help us solve the case,” George added in an attempt to sway her.
