She seemed to be calming a little and Alvarez decided to try and get Wanda back on track. “Do you have any idea where Vinny might live or hang out?”
“ ’Course not. I don’t even know the man.”
“And you don’t know anything about Maurice, where he might go?”
“Not a clue,” Wanda replied. “But then why would I know anything about him, huh?” A tear slid from the corner of her eye and as mascara ran down her cheek, she added, “I’m just the dumb bitch who was stupid enough to believe it when her cocksucker of a husband told her he loved her.”
Chapter 25
“Gee, I can’t imagine why Maurice would cheat on a sweetheart like that,” Pescoli said sarcastically as she drove out of the parking lot of the Aspen Grove Apartments and headed for the highway.
“He’s not exactly a gem in my book,” Alvarez said, and while she’d originally thought driving all the way to Helena might prove to be a wild goose chase, they had learned a few things about Maurice Verdago, his violent temper and his relationship with Vincent Samuels. “Rule hasn’t gotten back to me,” she added, texting some more.
“What are you telling him?”
“Just to check out if the cabin is occupied. I’d like us to do the Samuels interview.”
“Good.” Pescoli clicked on her blinker, then eased into a sluggish line of traffic on the main road. “Wonder where Maurice got the rifle.”
“Wonder what its make and model is.” Alvarez finished her text and sent it.
“It would have been nice if Wanda had any clue about firearms,” Pescoli said. “I want to talk to both Vince Samuels and Cam Elders.” Her mind was already spinning the possibility that Maurice might have connected with the missing Vincent or his ex-cell mate.
“Let’s hope he’s not in the wind too.”
“Has to check in with his parole officer.”
“Make that supposed to check in.”
“Right.” Spying her opportunity, Pescoli gunned it around a pickup hauling a fifth wheel trailer as Alvarez’s cell phone rang.
“Selena Alvarez,” she said, studying the taillights in the distance.
“Oh, Detective, hi.” The voice on the other end was soft, barely audible over the hum of the Jeep’s tires and the rumble of the engine. “This is Cecilia. Cecilia Piquard.”
“Yes, Mrs. Piquard.”
Pescoli glanced her way for a split second, then slowed, cutting the road noise.
“You, uh, you told me to call you if I thought of anything else?”
“Yes?”
“Well, there was something, but I didn’t want to say anything with Winston in the room. He’s out now, ran to the store for diapers and milk, just to the mini-mart on the corner, and Lily finally fell asleep, so I have to make this quick. Winston won’t be gone long.”
“What is it?” Alvarez asked.
“Win told you Kathryn didn’t have a love life, but that just isn’t true. She was pretty discreet, you know, never talked about dating, but we both knew she used one of those matchmaking services a while back.”
“Did she ever mention any of the men? Or did you meet any of them?”
“Oh, no, no . . . nothing like that, but a friend of mine, a guy, was on the same service and came across her profile. It was kind of a fluke cuz it’s a double-blind deal, no real e-mails or phone numbers, but he recognized her picture and it said she was a lawyer, not a jud
ge, so he showed me on my computer. Sure enough, there she was even though her picture had to be at least from ten years earlier, before she started coloring her hair, y’know? Anyway, it was really surreal and I shouldn’t have, but I told Win about it, kinda thinking it was funny. Win, not so much. In fact, he hit the roof. First with me, accused me of being a snoop, and then with his mother. He really flipped out and told her she was a professional woman and what was she thinking and who knew what kind of creeps were lurking there, ready to prey on her and blah, blah, blah. Really hit her with both barrels. Like, oh, yeah, right, anyone would prey on Judge Samuels-Piquard.” She hesitated and then said more softly, “I guess someone did, didn’t they?”
Alvarez was listening hard, trying to digest the information and put it into her mental image of the judge. It seemed off, somehow, but she didn’t doubt that Cee-Cee was serious. “Do you know the name of the service she used?”
“I did. But now, I’m not sure. It was something like matchmadeinheaven.com, or something similar. Anyway, like I said, she gave up her subscription or membership or whatever it is, or so we thought, but then, maybe three months later, last summer, just after the Fourth of July, I think, we were all at a party at the Jamisons’, friends of the family, and she took a phone call and stepped into the den.