Bohemian Tragedy by Dakota Cassidy

Author:Dakota Cassidy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dakota Cassidy

14

Zipping out of the bedroom, I ran to the front door and wrenched it open, leaving it that way in case I had to scream for help.

“Ivan?” I called.

His mostly bald head popped up as he pushed his horn-rimmed glasses along his nose and began making his way toward me with a short wave.

I held out my hand to him and introduced myself. “Evanora Dark.”

He shook my hand and mumbled, “Ivan Burns.” As he took a step inside, his eyes widened. “Wow. You did all this?”

“Just the decorating. I own a house-staging business. Fab and Cary Mann did the flipping.”

He looked at the living room with the u-shaped sectional in a light camel, with lots of throw pillows in greens and charcoal, the coffee table made out of polished driftwood, the cozy fireplace with a rustic mantel, and gave a small nod of appreciation.

“It looks really nice in here. Much different now. No pink at all,” he mumbled in a soft voice, his Boston accent light but distinct.

I looked out to the road and noted some people walking their dog and a couple of kids riding bikes. Witnesses abound, should I need help.

My smile of gratitude was brief. “Thanks, appreciate the compliment. Anyway, let’s talk about Susan. I’m sure you’ve heard what happened to her by now.”

His bushy eyebrows lifted high, but his eyes were sad. “I saw the news. I was sorry to hear it.” Then he paused and took a step back as he looked me over. “Say, how do you know her again?”

I was grateful I didn’t have to lie about this. It made questioning him more comfortable. “I thought Fab told you. My ex-husband left me for her.”

Ivan blinked, his sagging eyes looking surprised. “I don’t get it. Why would you care if she’s dead if she was the other woman?”

I smiled again. “You don’t have to. Let’s just say we came to an understanding and leave it at that.”

I’d let him presume we’d made some sort of truce before Susan died. It was easier than telling him her ghost was right here in the room with us and wanted some answers about her death, am I right?

He rocked back on his heels and jammed his hands into the pockets of his ill-fitting blue trousers, his jowls quivering as he cleared his throat. “That must be some heckuva understanding.”

I chose not to delve into my relationship with Susan. The less said the better. “You heard about what happened to her, right?” I pressed, watching his facial expressions.

He looked over my shoulder and avoided my eyes, but he quivered ever so slightly. “Like I said, I saw the news report. It sounds like it was pretty awful. Sure feel bad about it.”

I watched him carefully, observing his body language for any tells, but he seemed pretty relaxed, despite the fact that his mistress had been murdered and there was nothing left to identify her but her jawbone and a tooth.

“Any idea who might have done it?”

Now he showed a little life by making a confused face of shock.

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