I left a voicemail for Malone, letting him know I had Cliff and Ted’s alibi staying at my house. If I had to guess, he was still tied up at the accident scene aka crime scene. And we all knew how he felt about his crime scenes.
Come to find out, he’d left a number of messages for Nikki the last couple of weeks, but she’d been on her honeymoon in Thailand (no wonder Mitch wasn’t returning Mama’s calls). Nikki thought it would be better if she broke the news to Malone that she was my sister-in-law. Personally, I think she liked sharing quasi-bad news as much as I did.
I’d also left Grey a voicemail and a text to call me.
Drunk Cliff was momentarily awake and crying like a baby in my driveway. There was no way on God’s green earth I’d let him in my house in his condition. It was a little cloudy out, not cold by any means, so sitting outside in short sleeves wasn’t hurting him any.
Seriously, he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Who knows what he’d been doing since I’d seen him at breakfast. I glanced at his Land Rover, the front tire hopped-up on the curb in front of my house. I take that back, it was obvious what he’d been doing. And now we were all paying the price.
It was supposed to rain later this evening, which could prove to be a good thing if Cliff tossed his cookies in my driveway.
Nikki and I hung outside with Cliff while we waited for Malone. She handed him a mug of coffee (I had no idea I even had coffee in my house; it must have arrived with my guests).
He accepted it grudgingly. “You think you’re so smart. You don’t know anything,” he sniffled.
“You’re not going anywhere. Fill us in.” I was eager to hear what he had to say.
My neighbor, Endor, a white haired eighty-something, poked her head out her front door and yelled across the street in her shaky voice. “Do I need to call the cops?”
I waved her off. “They’re on their way. Thanks.”
She waved back and disappeared inside her house.
“Mona made some bad investments,” he said.
“Like what?” Nikki asked.
“More like who. She invested in Cliff, and he gambled away her money,” I said wryly.
“I know someone, who knows someone, who…” He rubbed his jaw, collecting his random thoughts.
Nikki looked at me wide-eyed. “This is going to take a while,” she said under her breath. “I’m going to grab a couple of the beach chairs I saw in your garage.”
“Great idea.”
Cliff watched Nikki walk away. “I know someone who paints. I paid him to make me copies,” he said.
“Forgeries.”
“No, copies. Authentic museum quality copies.” He sounded like an internet ad.
“What happened to the originals?”
“I sold them.”
“Why didn’t Mona turn you in?”
“She needed the money, too. She hated it.” A satisfied smile settled on his lips.
“Did anyone else know about this?”
He nodded, then held his head one handed and groaned in pain. “Tricia and Jo knew she ran out of money.”
“Are you sure?” That couldn’t be right. Tricia had acted as shocked as the rest of us that Mona was broke. I stared at Cliff, who’d also acted surprised. Apparently they were all better actors than I’d given them credit for.
“They knew. That’s why Jo was mad at Mona. She’d never paid. Not a single penny.”
And now Jo was dead. Nikki reappeared with my favorite white and blue-striped chairs. They were still sand-encrusted from the last time I’d used them. She opened one and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” We set up a couple of feet from where Cliff sat on the cold pavement. I don’t think he even noticed.
“Were you and Jo having an affair?” I asked.
He hesitated. “We might have fooled around a time or two.”
I wondered if that was why she ran. “What’s the deal with Fluffy’s pet recorder?” I still hadn’t found the time to watch that silly thing.
“Hey, that’s mine. Give it back. I bought that to spy on Mona.” He tried to stagger to his feet, but failed miserably.
Nikki and I shared a look of disbelief.
So, it wasn’t Mona’s. Had Alex known, and that’s why he’d brought it to me?
“Mona called it her insurance,” I told him.
“Yeah, it recorded me and Jo messin’ around. And there might be some footage of me carrying out a couple of paintings.”
It really was her insurance. Mona was a smart cookie.
Not so smart as to keep from getting herself killed, but she’d been good at keeping tabs on those around her.
Cliff looked up at me, his face wan in the sun. He squinted his eyes. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He weaved like a willow tree in a windstorm, then passed out cold.
“Is he always like this?” Nikki asked.
I shrugged. “Night night, cowboy. Pleasant dreams.” He was going to have one doozy of a hangover in the morning.