What if she wasn’t meeting the salon guy? What if she’d been meeting Paul? Or what if they were one and the same? It would fit with the timeline Tammy had given us. Although Tammy hadn’t recognized the picture of Heather, she’d likely seen her in the dark. For all I knew, she’d been wearing a hat or her hair had been up. “And you have no idea who he was?”

“No. I tried to pry it out of her, and she would only tell me that he was a forty-three-year-old banker having a midlife crisis. She’d hoped he’d be her next ticket to livin’ high on the hog.”

Had Heather told her the truth? If so, that would definitely strike Paul out as her boyfriend. I’d guess him to be in his late thirties, early forties now.

“Do you know if she left Wyatt a note saying she was pregnant the day of her going-away party?”

“Yeah,” she said with a frown. “Said she did it as a joke—one last way to get Wyatt. But I didn’t know about it until after he left the party. I’d overheard them arguing in the room.”

“Did you think she was really leaving town?” I asked.

“She acted so excited about it, but it was hard to imagine she’d just go. I knew five thousand was much less than she’d hoped for. I figured she still had something going. A plan to get more money. She admitted as much to me before the party. Said she might not have to leave after all if it worked out.” She sighed. “But something changed. After the party, she collapsed on the sofa and said she was tired of it all. She just wanted to leave and get a fresh start. And for the longest time, I thought that was exactly what she’d done.”

“Who else was in the room when she said it?”

“May. She really didn’t want to see Heather go.” She cast me a strange sidelong look.

“You want to tell me something else.”

“It seems wrong to say it. Especially since Heather’s dead.”

“I won’t say who told me,” I assured her.

“It’s not a fact, more like a suspicion.”

“I understand,” I said, “and I’ll treat it as such.”

She stopped pushing her cart and lowered her voice. “It’s just that I got the feelin’ May had an unhealthy attachment to Heather. She was furious with Heather when she said she was leavin’. Seemed invested in gettin’ Heather to stick around and beat the Drummonds.”

“When you say unhealthy obsession…?”

“I think she was in love with her.”

I stared at Mitzi for several seconds. “Do you think Heather knew?”

She started to say something and stopped, cringing a little, and then said in a whisper, “I suspect May was Heather’s boyfriend.”

“Really?”

“The more I’ve thought about it, the more it fits. They started gettin’ close, closer than Heather and me. And Abby was gone most of the time, so May took her place.”

“So you think she made up the salon boyfriend?”

“Oh, I think she had him for a week or so, but then she started talking about her ‘boyfriend’ differently. Sweeter. Calling him ‘Peep.’ I wouldn’t be surprised if she went from the salon guy to May and just kept up the ruse as a cover.”

“How did May react at the party when Heather said she was really going to leave?”

“She started cryin’, and the two of them talked outside by Heather’s car for about ten minutes before they both left.”

“In separate cars?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Abby said you’d told her Wyatt showed up drunk to the party, and that he and Heather had sex in the bedroom.”

She was silent for a moment. “Really? I don’t remember tellin’ her that, but to be honest, when we finally talked and compared notes about everything, I was pretty drunk myself.”

“How did May behave after Heather left?”

“She was really depressed for quite some time. Until she started datin’ Tater.”

Was it just sadness because Heather had left, or had May struggled with a guilty conscience?

A shadow crossed in front of us, and I glanced up to see Paul Conrad standing in front of Mitzi’s cart. His face was an ugly mask of fury.

“Paul,” Mitzi said, shaking with fear.

“I thought I told you to stay away from my wife,” he growled, his hands fisted at his sides.

“I just had a few questions,” I said.

“About that bitch Heather?” He took a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Wyatt Drummond did the world a favor when he killed her. And there’s absolutely nothin’ you need to be talkin’ to my wife about.”

I saw Marco out of the corner of my eye, about to rush toward us, but Paul couldn’t see him—he’d turned to face his wife. Keeping my hand low, I motioned for Marco to stop. The last thing I wanted was for Paul to know Marco was working with me.

“Did you plan this, Mitzi?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head violently.

“She didn’t know,” I insisted, my voice shaking. I couldn’t let Paul hurt her because I’d ambushed her. “I came here to do some grocery shopping, and when I saw her, I decided to see if she’d talk to me.”

His brow rose. “You were stalkin’ her?” Some of his anger seemed to fade. “You realize that’s a crime? I should place you under arrest.”

Fear made my legs weak. I had no doubt he would follow through. And as soon as an arrest photo was taken, my father’s people would begin to circle in. “Like I said, I saw her while I was here shopping. I wasn’t stalking her. You must know that Drum doesn’t have a grocery store. It was just a coincidence.”

“If you were shoppin’,” he said in a smartass tone, “then where’s your cart?”

“Carly,” Marco said, rounding the corner, pushing a cart with several items tossed inside. “There you are. Why did you take off like that?” He turned and feigned astonishment, as if only realizing Paul was standing there, then extended his hand, surprise lighting up his eyes. His reaction was so genuine, I almost believed it myself. “Hey, Paul. I didn’t know you knew my girlfriend.”

Paul motioned toward me. “You need to keep a better handle on your girlfriend, Roland. She’s harassin’ my wife.”

Marco hesitated, and I knew he was struggling with whether to defend my honor. But the last thing he wanted to do, rightfully so, was draw negative attention from one of the cops he was trying to topple. My pride could handle Marco berating me in front of Paul Conrad. I refused to put Marco in any more danger.

“I’m sorry, Marco,” I said in a meek tone, lowering my gaze. “I know you said to stay away from Mitzi, but I really wanted to talk to her, so I slipped away to ask her some questions.”

Marco was silent for a moment, and I glanced up to see his stunned expression.

Paul laughed. “Gotta keep these women in line, ain’t that right, Roland?”

I shot Marco a look that said play along.

He clenched his hands at his sides. “Yeah. Gotta show them their place.”

Paul clamped Marco’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you get to it, while I deal with my own wife.”