“Yes, but all that told me is he was married but not to whom,” she said, then shook her head, clearly disgusted. “When I overheard Brigette complaining about funds to get the props done, I saw it as an opportunity to spend more time hanging around without it looking suspect. And I saw right away that the ring didn’t count for nothing.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He was putting the moves on Gwyn,” Lil said. “I could see him coming a mile away, but then, I know what to look for now. But Gwyn bought every word he told her, hook, line, and sinker. Like I said, predators know how to pick their prey. Gwyn wears neediness like a scarf, just like I used to. It’s right there for a man like Gil to see and take advantage of.”
“And that made you mad?” I asked.
“Of course it made me mad,” she said. “The man used my daughter and now that he was done, he was moving on to the next victim.”
“Some might also argue that your daughter took advantage of Gil,” I said.
“She was a child,” Lil said. “And she had reasons for what she did—good reasons. Not that I’m saying that excuses it, but what was Gil’s excuse? What were his reasons? Certainly not as important as Tiffany’s.”
“So did you ever approach Gil?” I asked.
She nodded. “He was the last to leave one night—fiddling around with props for the play. He was always fiddling with those props.”
“What do you mean—like painting or something?” I asked.
“Good Lord no,” Lil said. “Gil wasn’t that useful. He’d gotten on some bender about the art. Probably took an online class or something and thought he was an expert. That would be his speed. He was always complaining about the vases and paintings and dishes and pillows—the decorative stuff. Always questioning Brigette on her choices and pushing for something different.”
Remembering the painting in his house, I frowned. “I’ve been inside his house and he has horrible taste.”
Lil nodded. “I know. Don’t get me wrong, some of the things here I wouldn’t display in a garage, but that’s Brigette’s department and the things she picks suit the story, I guess. I have to admit, I don’t really care for plays, so I don’t pay a lot of attention, but I understand Brigette comes from money so I assume she knows art way better than Gil did.”
“So you told Gil who you were one night when he stayed after rehearsal to critique the artwork?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“What was his reaction?” Ida Belle asked.
“Less than stellar,” she said. “He accused me of stalking him, trying to break up his marriage, trying to upset Tiffany. It took me several minutes just to convince him that I hadn’t even tried to make contact with her. I told him I didn’t know anything about their marriage because I’d moved away from Mudbug and hadn’t been back. But when I realized who he was, I couldn’t help asking about my daughter. I hedged a little on that last part, but I wasn’t about to tell him that his stalker comment was closer to the truth.”
“And what did he have to say?” Gertie asked.
“He said Tiffany was fine and that she had no desire to speak to me,” she said. “He claimed she’d made it clear from the beginning that she had no family except him and that was how she intended to keep things. He warned me to stay away from her or he’d slap a restraining order on me. And then said to stay away from him as well.”
“So did you contact Tiffany anyway?” I asked.
She nodded. “I dug through Brigette’s files one night and got her cell phone number. All the actors have an emergency contact. I tried calling but she made it clear that she didn’t ever want to hear from me. That there was no making up for the choices I’d made. That she had Gil now and he was taking care of her like I never had.”
“I’m sure that hurt to hear,” Ida Belle said.
“It did,” she said. “I know and accept the truth of what I did, but hearing her talk about Gil like some white knight when I knew what he was up to with Gwyn…well, it just didn’t sit right with me.”
“Did Tiffany tell Gil you’d called?” Ida Belle asked.
“I don’t think so,” Lil said. “At least, he never said anything to me about it, so that’s the assumption I made. I can’t imagine him letting it go.”
“Probably not,” Ida Belle agreed.
“Did you ever confront Gil about Gwyn?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “Couldn’t see the point. He was going to do what he wanted just like he always has, and it wouldn’t do any good to tell Tiffany because even if she took my call, she wouldn’t believe me. And even if she did, she wouldn’t have left him. It would take him setting her out like a stray cat before she let go of the security.”
She frowned. “I do wonder if Gil didn’t mention something to Gwyn though.”
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“She got strange at rehearsal,” Lil said. “I mean, the girl’s not overly normal but she seemed nervous—on edge. Even Brigette got onto her lately to focus better. I wondered if Gil had said something to her and she guessed that I had figured out they had something going on.”
“He might have,” I said, remembering Gwyn saying that Gil insisted she leave rehearsal one night rather than stay late when Lil was the only person left in the building.
Lil stared off at the wall, her jaw flexing. Then she slowly shook her head.
“This entire thing is a tragedy,” she said. “And the one who got the worst of it is Liam. He’s the only truly innocent party in all of it and I hope you find a way to help him.” She sighed. “If you don’t have anything else, I’d like to finish this up. I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon. Breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gertie said. “Are you going through treatment?”
“Doubt it,” she said. “I was too far gone by the time I got it looked at. If I did treatments, they would wipe me out and there’s only a small chance that they’d work. I don’t have the money to sit in bed all day and no one to help look after me even if I did. The best thing to do is let it run its course.”
Her expression was a mixture of sadness, anger, and regret that was so overwhelming, it felt as if a huge blanket of despair had been draped over all of us.
“I’m really sorry,” I said.
She nodded. “If you don’t have anything else, I really have to get back to this. All these props go onto a truck early tomorrow morning to ship out to the opening location and it has to be dry before it goes on the truck.”
“They’re not opening the show here?” I asked.
“They’re closing it here,” she said. “Brigette likes to do it that way. Says then they’ve worked out any kinks and bring the absolute best performance back to their home theater.”
I gave her my card. “If you can think of anything that would help, please let me know. You’re right—Liam is the only innocent one in all of this, and I have to make sure that’s proven because right now, a detective has him in her sights.”