“And defraud the insurance company,” I pointed out. “Not to mention putting Mr. Horn in a very precarious position.”
“Oh, fiddle-dee-dee.” She tried to emulate Scarlett O’Hara and failed dismally. “Bricey won’t ever pursue this. Horn is too good-looking.”
“Wrong. Horn is being sued. Did you know that?”
Tulla rallied at last, trying to get out of the chair until I pointed a finger at her and she sat back down on the edge. “Bricey won’t sue that man,” she insisted. “She’ll get Bart to buy her another car and this will all blow over. Bricey and I are Bart’s past. He’ll do what’s necessary to quiet this down and then he’ll be on to a new woman. Or maybe he’ll take up with Clarissa again. I think she’s still got the itch. You should be working on something more serious, like how Sunny rigged the top step in Clarissa’s house. I don’t know if she was trying to kill Bart or Clarissa.”
This was all news to me. “Who let Sunny into Clarissa’s house to tamper with the stairs?”
“No one had to let Sunny do anything. She does exactly what she wants. Bart has a key to almost every house in our set. He’s sold everyone their homes. Sunny takes the keys and goes in houses any time she feels like it. Sometimes she just leaves something out of her cat’s litter box. Sometimes it’s a dead reptile. She put a dead snake in my mailbox. She thinks she’s so clever, but everyone knows it’s her.”
“And people put up with it?” Tinkie asked, clearly finding it hard to believe.
“It’s kind of amusing, don’t you think?”
“No.” Tinkie put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “Did Clarissa know Sunny was in and out of her home?”
Tulla shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“And Sunny Crenshaw? Did she care that her husband was sleeping with others?” I asked.
“Sunny’s got everything she wants. A handsome man who put a ring on it. He’s always there to squire her to social events. He serves his purpose. No one is complaining about any of it.”
“You are pathetically jaded,” Tinkie said. “Haven’t you ever really cared about anyone in your whole life?”
“Yeah, once. And it got me exactly nowhere except in a lot of pain.”
Tinkie wanted to pursue this, but I shook my head. We had to stay on focus unless we wanted to spend another week in Columbus. But Tinkie ignored me. “Who did you love, Tulla?”
She turned away and brushed at her cheeks. “Stay out of my business.”
“Too late for that. We are all in your business. Someone tried to kill Clarissa tonight. If the archer had been a better shot, Clarissa would be dead. Next time it could be you.”
The expression that crossed Tulla’s face told me a lot more than her words did. “You know who the archer is, don’t you?” I asked.
She stood up. “I don’t have to talk to you.”
“Tinkie, search her bedroom for that wig.” I watched closely for her reaction, and I got more than I’d ever hoped for.
Panic streaked across her face before she regained her composure. “You can’t search my place. You don’t have a warrant.”
“We aren’t the police,” I said. “We don’t need a warrant.”
Tinkie took off toward a hallway that obviously led to the bed/bath area of the apartment.
“You can’t do this.”
“Watch us,” I said, standing so close to her that she couldn’t get out of the chair. I hoped Tinkie would hurry. If Tulla really objected and tried to evade me, I wasn’t going to slug her—no matter how much I wanted to.
“Even if you find a wig, you can’t prove anything.” She glared at me.
“Except that we were in Kathleen’s place filming everything you did when you paid your little visit. We saw you take the wig. You were stealing from a dead woman.”
“Show me the video.” She tried to stand up, but I could see in her eyes this was a last-ditch attempt to save herself.
“Coleman has it. He’s taking it to the police,” I bluffed. I gave it three beats. “Unless you’re willing to cooperate with me.” Blackmail was an ugly thing, but it was one of the very best tools in my PI kit. And I didn’t have a lot of time to squeeze Tulla.
“Here it is!” Tinkie came out of the bedroom holding the wig on a coat hanger. “I found it in the back of the closet.”
Just for show I made a photo of Tinkie holding it. “You marked the spot you found it?”
“Of course,” Tinkie said. “The crime lab guys will need to know the exact location. To gather evidence.”
Tinkie was really rubbing it in. To add to the heat, I pulled out my phone and started punching in a number.
“Who are you calling?” Tulla asked.
“Coleman. He needs to get that video to the Columbus police. If he waits any longer, they may think he was trying to protect you.”
“Stop!” She reached up for the phone, but I stepped back, then slowly put it in my pocket. “Are you ready to talk?
“I did steal the wig, but I didn’t plant it on Kathleen. I lent it to her. I was helping her.”
“Helping her what?”
“Get even with Bricey.”
“I don’t believe that for an instant,” Tinkie said. “Call Coleman.” She started back to the bedroom.
“It’s the truth. I swear it.” Tulla squirmed in her chair.
“Kathleen hated all of you—Bricey, Clarissa, all of you,” Tinkie said. “Why in the world would she work with any of you?”
“We had a common enemy,” Tulla said. “We both wanted to put Bricey in her place. She was so full of herself over the car and how much more Bart Crenshaw gave her than the rest of us. She rubbed our faces in it. We decided we’d had enough and to get even.”
“You knew the car wasn’t insured?”
Tulla lifted
