“That’s an interesting theory, deputy. Eden was such a little pain in the ass. She was destroying everything we’d built.”
“Everything your husband built.”
She scowled at me. “Am I glad she’s gone? Yes, I am. Did I kill her? No, I didn’t. If I had, I would have pulled the trigger myself.”
By the venom in her eyes, I believed her. She didn't like my little jab. She didn't like anyone else getting the credit for what she had done. I got the impression her bodyguard might have been with her, but she did the dirty work herself.
Proving it was going to be a different story entirely.
She wised up and asked for an attorney.
That was the end of the interview.
I pushed away from the table and stepped into the hallway. The sheriff joined me.
“This isn’t going to stick,” I said.
“I know,” he said with a frown.
“But I’ve got a plan,” I said, the logistics percolating. “Keep her away from a phone as long as possible.”
I sent Isabella a text and asked her to look at the location history for Lisa’s phone. It was late, and I didn't expect to hear back from her until the morning.
In the meantime, I grabbed a picture of Lisa’s mugshot from the county server, then headed over to Stingray Bay to speak with her bodyguard. He lived in the guest house behind the main house.
I parked my sportbike at the curb, pulled off my helmet and gloves, and hurried up the walkway to the front porch. I’d gotten the bike back from the shop, and there was no trace of the damage. They’d done good work.
I rang the video doorbell.
There was no response.
I didn’t expect one.
I hustled around the house and up the driveway to the back gate. A pedestrian gate secured the path to the guesthouse. I rang the video doorbell and waited for a response.
After a few moments of nothing, I rang the bell again.
Finally, a groggy voice crackled through the speaker. "What do you want?"
"Coconut County,” I said, flashing my badge to the lens. “I just have a few questions for you.”
"It's 4:00 AM. Can't this wait until the morning?”
"Sun is going to be up soon. Might as well get this over with now. Mrs. Scott is in jail.”
He was silent for a moment. "I'll be right there.”
A few minutes later, the door to the guesthouse cracked open, and Eddie Marshall stepped out. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and yawned. He was a big guy with short dark hair, dark eyes, and a muscular physique. He had the kind of shoulders and traps that can only come from a cycle of steroids. His neck disappeared into his shoulders. He had a thick, muscular jaw to go with it.
Eddie wore a T-shirt that hugged his physique and a pair of sweatpants. His bare feet slapped the concrete path as he strolled to the gate. He pulled it open. "You say Mrs. Scott is in jail?”
I nodded.
"What for?" Eddie’s eyes filled with concern.
"A few things," I said in an ominous tone.
His jaw tightened.
