Hold Tight (Page 69)
Muse knew that already. “Oh, I thought the woman who was with the girls . . .”
“Beth. She’s just a friend.”
Again she waited him out, seeing what else he would tell her.
He took a few deep breaths and said, “Okay, I got the message.”
“The message?”
“I assume the Lewistons called to complain. Message received. I will review my options with my lawyer.”
This track was leading nowhere, Muse thought. Time to shift gears. “Can I ask you something else?”
“I guess.”
“How did Yasmin’s mother react to all this?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why would you ask that?”
“It’s not an unreasonable question.”
“Yasmin’s mother isn’t very involved in her life.”
“Still. A big event like this.”
“Marianne ran out on us when Yasmin was little. She lives in Florida and sees her daughter maybe four or five times a year.”
“When was the last time she was up?”
He frowned. “What does that have to do with . . . wait a minute, can I see your badge again?”
Muse took it out. This time he studied it. “You’re county?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mind if I call your office and verify that this is legitimate?”
“Suit yourself.” Muse reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. “Here.”
He read it out loud. “Loren Muse, Chief Investigator.”
“Yep.”
“Chief,” he repeated. “What are you, a personal friend of the Lewistons?”
Again Muse wondered if this was a clever act or if Guy Novak was for real.
“Tell me when you last saw your ex-wife.”
He rubbed his chin. “I thought you said this was about the Lewistons.”
“Please just answer my question. When was the last time you saw your ex-wife?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Why was she here?”
“She came up to visit Yasmin.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Not really. She picked up Yasmin. She promised that she’d have her back by a certain time. Marianne usually keeps to that. She doesn’t like to spend a lot of time with her daughter.”
“Have you spoken to her since?”
“No.”
“Uh-huh. Do you know where she usually stayed when she visited?”
“At the Travelodge near the mall.”
“Are you aware she’s been staying there for the past four nights?”
He looked surprised. “She said she was heading to Los Angeles.”
“When did she tell you that?”
“I got an e-mail from her, uh, I don’t know. Yesterday I think.”
“May I see it?”
“The e-mail? I deleted it.”
“Do you know if your ex-wife had a boyfriend?”
Something approaching a sneer crossed his face. “I’m sure she had several but I wouldn’t know about it.”
“Any men in this area?”
“There were men in every area.”
"Any names?”
Guy Novak shook his head. “I wouldn’t know or care.”
“Why so bitter, Mr. Novak?”
“I don’t know if ‘bitter’ is the right word anymore.” He took off his glasses, frowned at some speck of dirt, tried to clean them with his shirt. “I loved Marianne, but she really didn’t earn it. If you’re being kind, you would call her self-destructive. This town bored her. I bored her. Life bored her. She was a serial cheater. She abandoned her own daughter and then became nothing but a source of disappointment. Two years ago Marianne promised Yasmin she’d take her to Disney World. She called me the day before the trip and canceled. No reason.”
“Do you pay alimony or child support?”
“Neither. I have sole custody.”
“Does your ex-wife still have friends in the area?”
“I wouldn’t really know, but I doubt it.”
“How about Reba Cordova?”
Guy Novak thought about that. “They were good friends when Marianne lived here. Very close. I never knew why. The two women couldn’t be more different. But yeah, I mean, if Marianne still kept in touch with anyone in the area, it would probably be Reba.”
“When was the last time you saw Reba Cordova?”
He looked up and to his right. “It’s been a while. I don’t know, maybe a back-to-school night or something.”
If he knew that his ex had been murdered, Muse thought, he was a pretty cool customer.
“Reba Cordova is missing.”
Guy Novak opened his mouth, closed it. “And you think Marianne has something to do with it?”
“Do you?”
“She’s self-destructive. But the key word is ‘self.’ I don’t think she’d hurt anyone else, except maybe her own family.”
“Mr. Novak, I would very much like to talk to your daughter.”
“Why?”
“Because we think that your ex-wife was murdered.”
She said it just like that and waited for the reaction. It was slow in coming. It was as if the words were floating toward him one at a time, and it was taking him a long time to hear and process them. For a few seconds he did nothing. He just stood and stared. Then he made a face like maybe he’d heard wrong.
“I don’t . . . you think she’s been murdered?”
Muse looked back and nodded. Clarence started toward the door. “We found a body in an alley dressed like a prostitute. Neil Cordova believes that it’s your ex-wife, Marianne Gillespie. What we need you to do, Mr. Novak, is to accompany my colleague Investigator Morrow to the medical examiner’s office so that you can see the body for yourself. Do you understand?”
His tone was numb. “Marianne is dead?”
“We believe so, yes, but that’s why we need your help. Investigator Morrow will take you to the body and ask you a few questions. Your friend Beth can stay with the children. I will be here too. I want to ask your daughter about her mother, if that’s okay?”
“Fine,” he said. And that took a lot of the pressure off him. If he had started hemming and hawing, well, the ex-husband is always a good candidate. Not that she was totally sure that he wasn’t involved. She could have run into another great actor in the league of De Niro or Cordova. But again she doubted it. Either way, Clarence would question him.