We thanked him for talking to us and got back in the car.
“We’re headed to the thrift store next, aren’t we?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Marco said in a gruff tone as he buckled his seat belt. “Paul Conrad’s involved in this, and we’re going to find evidence to prove it.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tammy was working at the register when we walked into Helping Hands Thrift Store, and she recognized me right away. “Hey,” she called out. “Did that recorder work out for you?”
She didn’t have any customers, so I headed straight toward her, which was a one-eighty from the plan Marco and I had come up with—to buy something and talk to her as we checked out, but this seemed like a more natural segue to asking her questions.
“Actually,” I said, stopping in front of her, while Marco stayed a couple of feet behind me to my right. “It did, but I was hoping to get some more tapes.”
“I’m pretty sure we don’t have any here, but you can check in the back.” She thumbed toward the electronics section.
“Actually, that’s not why I’m here,” I said hesitantly, hoping I wasn’t screwing this up. “I’m Carly and this is Marco,” I said, gesturing to him behind me. “And we’re friends of Hilde Browning.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know any Hildes.”
“Hilde is Heather Stone’s aunt,” I said.
She shook her head again. “Should I know her?”
“Heather’s body was uncovered at the Drummond resort construction site,” Marco said.
“Oh, I heard about that. Awful business, but I’m not sure what it has to do with me.”
“We heard your ex-husband is now married to Heather’s best friend,” I said. When she didn’t respond, I asked, “Were you previously married to Paul Conrad?”
She made a face as though she’d just eaten something sour. “What do you want to know about that bastard?”
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I said.
“Oh, that’s him all right. Fucking asshole.” Her eyes narrowed. “This Heather’s best friend was Mitzi Ziegler?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “We heard that he was sleeping with Mitzi while you two were getting divorced.”
She snorted. “Much sooner than that. And I’m sure she wasn’t the first.”
“You think he had other affairs?” Marco asked.
“I know he did,” she said in disgust, “although he would never admit it. But I found more than a few receipts for the Mountain View Lodge, so I followed him there one night. He went into a motel room for a few hours, and when he came out, he was with some woman.” She shook her head. “Would you believe he still tried to deny it?”
“Was it Mitzi?” I asked.
“No,” she said in a stern tone. “That was months before he was sleepin’ with Mitzi.”
“But you don’t know who that woman was?” I asked.
“No. Never figured it out. I think he stopped seeing her after that…or he was more careful. He got sloppy with Mitzi.”
“If I showed you a photo, would you recognize her?” Marco asked.
“I don’t know,” Tammy said, pursing lips.
“Could you take a look and see?” Marco asked as he pulled out his phone and let her have a look at it.
She handed the phone back to Marco. “I don’t know if that was her or not.”
“Do you know if Paul took a trip to Tulsa about eight years ago?” Marco asked.
She squinted up at him. “What? No. Paul hated to travel. Although he took Mitzi to Atlanta after we got divorced. He never took me, even after all my beggin’.” Her jaw clenched. “Bastard. I left him after I caught them in my bed. My attorney petitioned for me to get the house, and the judge granted it to me while we were in mediation, but a few weeks later Paul broke in and claimed it was his. He had several deputies with him to have me physically removed, so I moved in with my mother.” She shuddered.
I could have told her any judge would’ve had him thrown out, and maybe it was even true, but something about the way she glanced at the door told me she was still afraid of him. Marco must have picked up on it too.
“Did he ever raise his hand to you?” he asked.
She cringed and embarrassment washed over her face.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I said. “No need for you to relive any traumatic experiences.”
Nodding her thanks, she kept her gaze on the counter.
“Does he still bother you?” I asked.
She hesitated, then said, “From time to time. When he’s drunk.”
“Do you think Paul’s capable of murder?” Marco asked.
Her eyes lifted and locked on Marco’s face. “Why would you ask that?” Then her eyes lit up with understanding. “You think he killed that Heather girl?”
“We didn’t say that,” Marco said in an even tone. “I’m just wonderin’ how much of a danger he is to the public.”
“He’s got a temper, and I suppose if he was mad enough… yeah. He could kill someone.”
Marco pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Tammy, I’m Deputy Sheriff Marco Roland.” When fear filled her eyes, he lifted his hands and gently said, “Although we don’t work together, I know your ex-husband, and I’ve never much cared for him. I detest men who abuse their strength and power. If you ever run into any trouble with him, please contact me using my personal number. I’ll help you as best I can.”
Taking the card, she looked it over before lifting her glare to him. “Everyone knows the sheriff’s department in this county is a boys’ club. I find it hard to believe you’re still there if you’re not playin’ the game.”
“You’d be surprised how many more there are like me,” he said. “We’re slowly building in numbers and strength.” He pointed to the card. “Call me. If I can’t get to you, I have a few friends who can.”
She glanced at the card again, then back up to Marco. Something in her gave way, and the distrust leached from her gaze.
“Thank you,” she said with
