The Finest Hour by Anina Collins

Author:Anina Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Publisher: Eight Feathers Press
Published: 2019-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Alex and I leaned forward in tandem and waited as Jefferson Sterling let a pregnant pause drag out so long I wondered if he’d lost his train of thought or forgotten what he’d just said. You didn’t just say something like “That depends on what you call cheating” and not follow it up with more details.

At the very least he needed to complete that thought and say if he thought she was cheating.

When he didn’t say anything for nearly a full minute, Alex, who I suspected was losing his patience with Sterling’s need to make everything dramatic like we were all in an old black and white detective flick, groaned and said, “Well, tell me what you saw and I’ll decide if it was cheating or not, Mr. Sterling.”

The man who sat across from us seemed surprised that we weren’t having as much fun as he was with this interview. His smile faded, and he leaned forward toward us.

“Samuel hired me in early January, and I began to follow Mrs. Morrow around the tenth. At first, all I saw was a lady who was always driven around by a big guy. Have you met the driver yet? His name is Bruno, and he’s a piece of work.”

Alex wrote down the details of Sterling’s story, so curious about his comment about the driver, I asked, “Why do you say that?”

The private eye smiled again and gave me a wink. “Dumb as a bag of hair, but he’s got a nasty side to him, that one. Better be careful having your wife with him is what I told Samuel after the first time I watched her with that Bruno character.”

Lifting his head, Alex asked the question that was on my lips. “Why? Did you see him do something violent to her?”

Sterling shook his head and scrunched up his face like the mere mention of someone being violent with a woman disgusted him. “No, not her, but I saw him get pretty nasty with a parking garage attendant that first time I followed her. He actually got out of that Beemer he drives her around in and grabbed that poor little guy working there by the collar. I thought I would have to run up and rescue him.”

“Mercedes,” Alex said flatly, correcting the private eye on what kind of car Eliza Morrow owned and Bruno drove her around in.

“What?” Sterling asked, now utterly confused and lost in his story.

“The car is a Mercedes, not a BMW,” Alex explained in a tone of complete frustration. “A silver Mercedes.”

But the correction didn’t faze the man, who just waved his arm in front of him and rolled his eyes. “Mercedes. BMW. What does it matter? It’s an expensive car made by foreigners.”

The district attorney would have the time of his life putting this guy on the stand if it turned out that Eliza or Bruno killed Samuel. Jefferson Sterling didn’t seem to care much for specific details, except when they added to his film noir persona thing he had going on.

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