“Natasha was a bit of a diva.”
“That’s a nice way of putting it,” I said wryly.
He swung his feet to the sand. “Why don’t you and I go question Yvonne? She may not be a good suspect, but I’ll bet she knows something useful.”
“Right now?” I asked, surprised by his eagerness.
He grinned that charming grin of his again. Was it hot out here, or was it just me? “You bet. Are you game?”
Was I ever.
Chapter 15
Getting On Top
WE FOUND YVONNE KITTERING sitting at a table outside the Flying Fish, smoking like a fiend while swilling down a bottle of cheap red wine. She was already well on her way to being three sheets to the wind, and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
“Hi, Yvonne,” I said with a polite smile. “I’m Viola Roberts and this—.”
She cut me off with a cloud of smoke, which caused me to cough. I made a production of it, which she ignored.
“I know who you are,” Yvonne said. “Him, too.” She shot Lucas a glare from her muddy-brown eyes as if he’d offended her by his very presence. “Come to gloat, I expect.”
“Why would we do that?” Lucas asked soothingly, taking the seat across from her. I took the one between them. It faced the ocean, which was nice. Unfortunately it was closer to the cigarette smoke than I liked.
“Well, it seems to be what everyone else is doing. They’re thrilled Natasha is dead. Ding, dong, the wicked witch and all that jazz,” Yvonne said, waving her cigarette for emphasis. I tried not to cough up a lung as another cloud drifted my way. My allergies were going to run amuck any minute now.
Lucas shook his head and gave a sound of sympathy. “Some folks just aren’t very nice.”
Yvonne snorted. “You’re telling me. And I worked for one of the nastiest ones in the business.” She took another deep drag from her cigarette before splashing the last of the wine from the bottle into her glass. Then she pulled an industrial-size bottle of antacids out of her voluminous brown handbag and dumped a bunch of them on the table in front of her. “Natasha made my life a living hell. I suppose you know that.” She took a drag, popped an antacid, and downed a mouthful of wine. “I’ll bet the cops think I did it,” she said morosely. Another drag, antacid, gulp of wine. She repeated the process as we chatted.
“Oh, I don’t think they believe that,” Lucas soothed. I was letting him roll with his “good cop” routine. He was good at it. Handling Yvonne like a pro. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who had motive to kill Natasha, but you’re not one of them.”
“You better believe it,” she nodded emphatically, repeating once again the cigarette/antacid/wine process. She frowned when she found her glass empty. Lucas flagged down the waiter and asked for another bottle. Yvonne beamed at him, flashing slightly yellowed teeth. “Such a gentleman. Where was I? Oh, yeah, other people with motives.” She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “That Avery Andrews chick? Not quite as innocent and sweet as she’d like people to believe.”
Lucas and I exchanged a glance. “No?” I asked.
She squinted at me as if just remembering I was there. “Nope. Definitely not. Do you know that she had an affair with Jason before he dumped her for Piper?”
I definitely hadn’t known that. And neither had Lucas if the look on his face was anything to go by.
“I see that’s news to you,” Yvonne crowed just as the waiter returned with a fresh bottle of wine. She topped up her glass and took a deep swig, sighing with satisfaction.
“But if Jason broke up with Avery, wouldn’t she have more motive to kill him than Natasha?” I asked. Yvonne didn’t seem shy about spilling gossip about others, so I figured I didn’t need to pretend to be anything but the nosey parker I was.
“Okay, here’s the thing,” she said, leaning one elbow heavily on the table. “Avery has a habit of wanting what isn’t hers: husbands, book deals, whatever. Sure, she was angry as all get out over Jason leaving her, but she was angrier that Natasha got preferential treatment at Romantic Press. Plus, she already had her eyes on someone new by then, so losing Jason wasn’t that big of a deal to her.”
I wasn’t sure where Yvonne was going with this, but she was certainly making Avery look guilty. It might sound silly to outsiders, but the book-deal thing could be the motive I was looking for.
“Word on the street is that Avery had already hooked up with the husband of another best seller. Drove her into a complete breakdown.” Yvonne cackled with delight.
“Are you talking about Melisande Donovan?” I asked. She was the only best-selling romance author I knew who’d had a very public breakdown over her husband’s affair, although the name of the woman involved had never been revealed.
“Oh, yeah,” Yvonne said, slouching back in her seat, glass of wine clutched to her chest. “It was epic, let me tell you. Avery had a gag order slapped on her, which was why Melisande never mentioned Avery’s name. Melisande still hasn’t recovered. Poor dear.” She seemed genuinely sorry for Melisande Donovan.
“I still don’t see how that makes Avery a suspect,” I said.
“I agree,” Lucas nodded. “If Avery had been the victim, there are a few fingers we could point, but she seems to have no motive for Natasha’s murder.”
“I’m not done,” Yvonne said smugly. “Two nights before Natasha’s murder, I overheard a fight between her and Avery. Believe me, it was a doozy. There I was, minding my own business in the ladies room, and in walk the two of them. Started brawling like a couple of longshoremen.”
“What were they fighting about?” I asked eagerly.
Yvonne’s eyes glittered in unholy glee. “Turns out, Avery was trying to get her claws into Natasha’s new man. Natasha wasn’t
