Chapter Three
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No one believed Dizzy.
She’d told her story to the police that had shown up at her door only minutes after making the call but they hadn’t bothered to hide their skepticism. It had only become worse when they’d practically battered down Trip’s door and searched his house while she sat with a nice young cop in her living room, practically biting her nails down to the quick.
When the police had returned they’d informed her that there was no dead body in the house, no woman, no crime scene. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’d been rather smug about the whole situation as well as if she couldn’t be trusted to know what was real and what wasn’t.
Frantic at not being taken seriously, she’d called Leann who was now wading through the crowd of police in the living room, her cousin Easton trailing closely behind.
Great. Easton thinks I’m an idiot.
Leann threw her arms around Dizzy, giving her a reassuring hug. “What happened? Are you alright?”
Looking over Leann’s shoulder, Dizzy could see Easton Anderson standing there with his hands on his hips, surveying the slightly chaotic scene unfolding around him. With his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but in her home.
He’s welcome to leave.
Like all the Anderson men, he was handsome with his dark hair and crystal blue eyes but his personality kind of ruined it. He didn’t mean to be impatient and short with her but somehow he always managed to no matter the situation, although he could be kind at times. Not long ago, he’d offered to give her a ride when it was raining. To his credit he’d never called her a freak out loud but she was sure he had in the deep, dark recesses of the computer he had for a brain.
“No one believes me,” Dizzy replied to Leann’s question, throwing up her hands in frustration. She wished now she’d never stepped foot outside this evening. “I saw Trip Stanford strangle a woman in the window but no one is taking me seriously.”
Easton stepped forward, his brows pinched together. “That’s a serious accusation, Dizzy.”
Not only did he think she was weird, he also thought she was stupid as hell.
“I’m well aware of that,” she said with as much patience and sweetness as she could muster. She’d had a particularly crappy evening and she wasn’t going to take any shit from Easton Anderson. “Believe me when I say that I don’t make this accusation lightly but I saw him do it. I was outside and I saw the whole thing.”
More tears as the image of what had happened played again in her head, leaving her feeling overwhelmed by the situation. She wasn’t crazy. She’d seen it happen. It was like that movie Gaslight where someone was telling her that what she’d experienced really wasn’t true. She couldn’t trust her own senses, apparently.
Except that she wasn’t wrong. And she knew it as well as she knew her own name.
Leann threw a nasty look over her shoulder at her cousin. “I believe you. Now start at the beginning and tell us what happened.”
Amid all the officers milling around her home – they didn’t seem to want to leave for some reason – Dizzy, Leann, and Easton found a quiet spot in the kitchen where she detailed her evening moment by moment until it had ended with a call to 911.
His arms crossed over his chest and still frowning, Easton didn’t look convinced but he did seem willing to help. “Why don’t I go talk to the officer in charge? See what he has to say.”
That was a decent idea. The police weren’t telling her much except that they hadn’t found any evidence of what she’d reported. But Easton was a well-respected businessman in Tremont, plus his cousin West used to be the head of detectives before becoming mayor. If anyone could get them to talk, it would probably be him.
“Are you really okay?” Leann asked when Easton left them. “My God, it must have been horrible.”
Both women shuddered but for different reasons. Leann at the thought of what she might have witnessed and Dizzy at the memories of what she’d involuntarily seen. The images would be burned in her brain for a long time to come. There was no way she was sleeping tonight, or perhaps any night in the near future.
“It was but I’m glad that you’re here.” Dizzy rubbed at her eyes, still stinging from the tears she’d shed. “They don’t believe me. They think I’m lying or that I’m crazy. I know that people in this town think I’m strange but I never imagined they’d think I was a liar.”
People whispered behind Dizzy’s back but she’d never felt it was mean-spirited. She’d always thought it was sort of amusing. Perhaps she had been too naive, too innocent.
“Everybody in Tremont adores you,” Leann replied firmly. “They know all that you do for the community. Most people just think you march to your own drummer, that’s all. No one thinks you’re lying.”
Dizzy nodded toward Easton who was speaking with one of the cops. “He does, and I think he has company.”
“He doesn’t. But you know how Easton is. It’s all facts and numbers. If he can’t experience something with his six senses he can’t believe it. It doesn’t have anything to do with you personally.”
“Well, I saw this with my own eyes. I didn’t make this up for fun or attention.”
Easton and the officer approached Dizzy and Leann. The policeman shook Dizzy’s hand. Funny how he hadn’t wanted to discuss anything with her five minutes ago but a little chat from an Anderson male and he was all smiles.
“My name is Sergeant Baker and I’m the lead for this call, Miss Foster. We appreciate that you want to be a good neighbor and citizen of Tremont, please be assured of that. However, we haven’t found any evidence of the crime that you claim you saw.” The officer glanced at the table where her half-empty glass of wine sat. “Have you been drinking this evening, Miss Foster?”
“Now wait a minute,” Leann protested loudly, her arm going around Dizzy protectively. “You cannot be serious? Dizzy is clearly not drunk.”
Sergeant Baker straightened his shoulders as if ready to take a punch to the stomach. “I have to cover all the bases, ma’am. It’s my job. Now Miss Foster, how much alcohol would you say you’ve had this evening?”
Dizzy didn’t like the cop’s line of questioning any more than her friend but she needed for these men to believe her so she was willing to answer. She didn’t get a chance to, however, because Leann wasn’t done.
“I had two glasses of wine at a party that I just left,” Leann said, her lips pursed in distaste. “Don’t you want to know about everyone’s alcohol intake, Officer? You haven’t asked my cousin yet. He was drinking whisky.”
Easton stepped forward, his expression clearly not happy. “Can you give it a break, Leann?”
“No,” she answered curtly. “They’re trying to discredit our friend and I’m not going to stand for it.”
Exhaling noisily, Easton turned to the policeman. “I have to agree with my cousin, Sergeant. Unless Dizzy was falling down drunk I don’t see what difference it makes.”
Not wanting to come between family, Dizzy held up her hand. “Thank you both but I have no issue answering that question. I drank half a glass of wine, maybe less before witnessing…well…what I witnessed. I had a little more after I called 911 but as you can see I haven’t finished the glass. That’s it. There’s no great conspiracy here, Officer. I know what I saw and it was clear as day with the lights on in Trip’s house. I saw him strangle that poor woman.”
Sergeant Baker shuffled uneasily on his feet and nodded, making a note on a little pad of paper he’d pulled from a pocket. “Fine, you weren’t impaired. Can you tell me how well you know Trip Stanford? Would you say that you two are…close?”
Dizzy had no idea where this cop was trying to go but she’d follow along for a few minutes and humor him.
“Not really. I met him when he moved to the neighborhood but we mostly just wave to one another. That’s about it.”
With raised brows, Baker scribbled something in his little notebook. “So you and Mr. Stanford weren’t…romantically involved in any way?”
What in the…?
“No,” she replied, her tone clipped. “Did he say that we were? Because I barely know him.”
Leann was beside herself with anger, jumping up from her seat and even Easton was frowning now. Dizzy was also livid but had to keep her emotions under control. Already these men weren’t inclined to believe her. If they thought she was a hysterical female she’d lose the little credibility she had.
A muscle ticked in Easton’s jaw and she could see his hand reflexively go to his shirt pocket. There was the outline of a cell phone there. She had a feeling he was contemplating calling in reinforcements. Probably West. Or maybe Jason. “Sergeant, I’m not sure what any of that has to do with what Dizzy reported. She saw Trip Stanford strangle a woman. Have you investigated that at all?”
Baker cleared his throat and shifted on his feet again. “Of course we have, Mr. Anderson. Mr. Stanford invited us into his home and gave us full access. We found no one else in the home and Mr. Stanford says he was home all evening and had fallen asleep on the couch. There was no one there. No woman. No victim. So naturally I’m trying to get to the bottom of this claim.”
Dizzy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You didn’t find her? You were barely over there for more than fifteen minutes. Where did you look? Did you check the attic? Or maybe a crawl space?”
Did she have to do everything for these policemen? Wasn’t it enough that she’d witnessed the crime and reported it? Now she had to find the evidence too?
The officer cleared his throat. Again. Good, he was nervous. He should be.
“I can assure you that we searched the home thoroughly. There was no murder victim there, Miss Foster, which leads me back here to you.”
Leann visibly bristled but Dizzy stood in front of her, ready to fight her own battles. “So I’m either drunk or looking for revenge for a love affair gone bad? It’s like a lousy film noir, Sergeant. I can assure you that I am neither of those things. I saw a crime committed this evening and I reported it. Like a good citizen.”
And no one seems to give a crap.
“Maybe you saw the television through the window,” Baker suggested, a hopeful tone in his voice. “You could have mistaken it for live people.”
Because I’m a nitwit?
“Except that I saw Trip with his hands around a woman’s neck,” she explained with far more patience than she was actually feeling. “I don’t think he’s starring in any movies or television shows.”
The sergeant shoved his tablet into his pocket and sighed. “Listen, Miss Foster, there’s nothing I can do here. You say you saw something but we can’t find any evidence that anything happened in Mr. Stanford’s home. You should be happy that he’s been cooperative and doesn’t seem to harbor you any ill will. He even said that you might have had woken from a bad dream and thought it was real. He’s been quite nice through all of this.”
She almost choked on her own spit. “Wait…I’m supposed to feel…sorry for him?”
The officer nodded. “You did falsely accuse him of murder, ma’am. Most neighbors wouldn’t stand for that. I imagine he could sue you if he wanted to.”
Easton growled and Leann didn’t appear any happier.
“But I don’t think he will,” the cop added quickly. “As I said, he was extremely cooperative this evening.”
Dizzy crossed her arms over her chest, her teeth snapping together. “Unlike me?”
Sergeant Baker spread his arms out as if to wash his hands of the entire situation. “You do have a reputation, Miss Foster.”
Ouch. That hurt. A lot.
Her entire body shook with suppressed anger. They thought she was some kind of…kook.
“That’s enough,” Easton growled before she could reply. Her hands tightened into fists and her legs trembled. “I think it’s time for you and your men to leave, Sergeant. Unless of course you have any more questions. We appear to have come to an impasse and the conversation is no longer productive.”
As usual, Easton had summed things up perfectly. If she wasn’t to be believed, she was done talking.
The sergeant wasn’t done yet though. “If you want to change your statement, please give me a call. Really think about what you think you saw, Miss Foster, and then do the right thing.”
So much for that whole protect and serve stuff.
“I won’t be changing anything but thank you,” she answered stonily.
Leann stayed with Dizzy as Easton herded the officers out of the house. Dizzy fell back into the chair and briefly covered her eyes with her hands as the sounds of their engines faded into the distance. They were gone and she was still here.
So was Trip Stanford. Just one door down. A murderer in her neighborhood. Usually the worst thing that happened around here was that someone didn’t mow their lawn or they put a swarm of garden gnomes in the front yard.
Flipping the lock closed behind him, Easton came back to stand over them, his lips a grim line.
“That was a cluster,” he said, his gaze flickering back and forth between his cousin Leann and Dizzy. “You need to figure out what happened here.”
“I already know,” Dizzy replied sharply. While she was grateful that Easton managed to get the police to speak to her, she wasn’t inclined to take any guff from him either. “Trip strangled someone. Then apparently hid the body really well. But the cops don’t believe me because I’m strange and a non-conformist to societal norms.”
“They don’t believe you because they didn’t find a body,” Easton argued, shaking his head. “If there had been a dead body over there it wouldn’t have mattered who or what you were, Dizzy.”
“I have a reputation,” she mimicked. “Well, screw them and the horse they rode in on.”
Shrugging, Easton lowered himself into a kitchen chair, his tone gentle. “C’mon Dizzy, you have to admit that you…you know. See things a little differently than others.”
Anger and exhaustion were warring for dominance inside of her but a third emotion was actually winning the battle. Hurt.
“That’s a crappy thing to say, Easton. Especially after what I’ve been through tonight. I saw someone murdered and you want to point out that I think Tarot cards might be real. You’ve known me practically my whole life but tonight I find out that you think I’m capable of lying.”
A few tears slid down her cheeks and she huddled into herself on the chair, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them so she could rest her chin on her knees.
Leann was no happier with Easton and she gave him a mean look, nudging him hard with the tip of her shoe. “You really were no help.”
Easton rubbed his temple tiredly. “I defended Dizzy.”
He had, but…
The words were out of Dizzy’s mouth before she could stop them.
“Did you mean it, though? Or did you do it because of Leann?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Do not ask questions that you either already know the answers to or aren’t going to like the replies that you get.
The pause before he answered was far too long. It said what he didn’t want to say.
“I believe you think you saw something.”
With Easton, it was probably the best she could ask for. But it begged the question: if someone who had known her for almost thirty years had doubts, how was she going to convince the police that she was telling the truth?
And what about Trip? He knew that she knew. Nothing good could come from that.