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“You were once a regular at the Gold Star Lounge, yes?” Conrad continued. “You had dealings with Mr. Bennett.”
The attorney gulped, her eyes wide. “I might have ordered drinks from him. What does that have to do with anything?”
Such obvious feigned ignorance. A practiced barrister should be smoother.
“Mr. Bennett is a person of interest in an ongoing murder investigation,” Barrow explained. “He’s also a prime suspect for a number of other felonies. Including the attempted murder of a federal agent. Anyone who harbors such an individual will face the same charges.”
The color drained from Ms. Garfield-Johnson’s face. She licked her lips. “What if, hypothetically, my client didn’t know he harbored such a man inside his house?”
Father Garfield gave his only daughter a double take. “You snuck in another boy?”
“Shut up, Dad,” Barbie said before laughing nervously. “If I can give you Tom Bennett, does this go away for me and my father? No one else needs to hear of it?”
Well, well, well. Barbie Garfield-Johnson was a married woman who Tom Bennett had slept with and then blackmailed. The attorney must have helped the bartender to keep word of their affair from reaching her husband. A truth Tom had used to his advantage to hide out in her father’s house.
“I can’t promise that,” Barrow said. “I may need to speak with your husband. But I can promise you there’s a hundred percent chance others will know if you withhold any information from us.”
A beat of silence. “Step outside, dad,” Barbie commanded, her tone firm.
Mr. Garfield’s mouth opened and closed, but eventually he wheeled his oxygen tank out of the room. The moment the door sealed shut behind him, Barbie launched into her story. “Yeah, I messed up. My marriage was on the rocks, and there was Tom, pouring drinks and encouraging me to share. I don’t think my husband had really listened to me in a year, but Tom did.” She jabbed her finger against the tabletop. “I went home with him. A few weeks later, I reconciled with my husband. He stepped up, and we’ve never been happier. That’s when Tom showed up with a video featuring our night together.” Running out of steam, shoulders slumping, she dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t believe how stupid I was.”
Jane tapped her toe against the linoleum floor. Standard cheater stuff. Hurry up and spill the deets.
Barrow leaned forward. “Was he staying in your father’s home?”
“Yes. Tom demanded I make it happen, or threatened to post the footage on the Headliner. I’d never be able to show my face in this town again. Who’s gonna hire the philanderer with a sex tape to represent them? Can you imagine?” Barbie wrung her hands together on the tabletop. “You see? I had no other choice but to help him.”
“How did you explain Mr. Bennett’s habitation to your father?” Conrad asked.
Jane wanted to know, too. Also, was it possible Ashley had worked with Tom in hopes of boosting her viewership? No. No, surely not.
“He pretended to be a live-in nurse. But I had no idea Tom was a person of interest in the murder of Josh Gunn.”
Learning your former lover was not only a dirty rotten blackmailer but possibly a murderer must be a shock to the system.
“Do you know who might be supporting Mr. Bennett now?” Conrad asked, riding the same wavelength as Jane.
“No, but I caught him with a woman last week. He called me to the Lounge, and I went running because you do not tell Tom no. Jessica Thacker was leaving the break room, and she was ticked. She acted as if she’d been in there complaining about the service, but I knew better. I recognize the F-look when I see it. Fury, fear and frustration.”
Yet another link to Jessica Thacker.
Barrow asked a few questions that led nowhere, then slid a pen and pad of paper over to Barbie, concluding the interview. “You know the drill. Write down everything you told me and any other details you recall.”
Jane leaned against the wall to process everything she’d seen and heard.
What did all of this mean?
Who was guilty, who wasn’t?
What did everything point to?
Thankfully, she knew her next move. The tour of Deputy Gunn’s house.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thou shall always be ready to break into a spontaneous song or dance to entertain the crowds.
–Jane Ladling’s Campaign Companion Code
Conrad parked Jel in Deputy Gunn’s driveway, next to Special Agent Barrow’s GBH issued sedan. Jane drew in a deep breath, taking stock. Morning sunlight framed the house and really made the yellow crime scene tape across the front door pop. The neighborhood itself was quiet, only a dedicated fur-mom pushing a dog in a stroller.
That Jane was the consultant of an GBH consultant certainly had perks. During every other investigation, she’d had to sneak around to score a treat like this. Being able to walk right into an incident site was going to rock. However, they were near the worst spot of all time—Conrad’s shooting. What if the shooter hid nearby, eager for a second try?
