by Penny Reid
“I do like it, and I think we both know that’s an understatement.” Cletus was looking everywhere but at me. “And yet Sienna has made that fine breakfast. Plus, let’s not forget Ashley coming over. She’s working today, so we only get a sliver of her time before she needs to leave.”
“I’ll make it quick.”
“I don’t like it quick.” An edge entered his voice and brilliant eyes.
I crossed my arms, inspecting him, feeling a tad put off.
He must’ve sensed my discontent because his gaze softened and he came closer, into my space, and pulled my arms from my chest so he could thread our fingers together. “I love how you love me. I love it a little too much. You know me. I don’t like most desserts, fast food, music on a sound system instead of live, cars that are more flash than class.”
This last one pulled a smile from me, and I tilted my head to the side. “You like quality.”
“I’m particular.”
“Are you saying my blow jobs aren’t quality?”
“Oh good Lord, no.” He appeared offended by the question, as though I’d questioned his love for blueberries. “No, no. Jenn. Often, after you do that to me and—you may have noticed—sometimes, immediately after we make love, I require recovery. I require time with you, and only you. Time we do not have at present, not if we want to have enough time with Ash to get things moving with Jackson.”
I thought back over our months together, sharing a life. There had been times after we’d been intimate when Cletus hadn’t seemed quite himself, when he’d seemed raw, when that infamous control of his had disintegrated. He’d get real quiet, but it was like he needed me in his arms, needed my body close, and if anything interrupted this time, he’d be grumpy for days.
“Okay,” I conceded, withdrawing one of my hands from his so I could point a finger at him. “But we’re doing it. And soon.”
He grinned, it looked saucy, and I swear his handsomeness made me dizzy. “Yes, ma’am.”
“This coffee is too hot.” Cletus frowned at his mug first before turning the frown to the coffee machine. “And this machine is new.”
“I got it for Jethro.” Sienna pointed with a butter knife toward the machine. “He always pours himself a cup and forgets about it. I figured, if it’s super hot to begin with, then it’ll be at least warm when he gets back to it.”
Cletus inspected Sienna for a moment as she resumed buttering toast. “Those for Jethro?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And the eggs?” He lifted his mug toward the two eggs she had frying in the pan. Sienna, Cletus, and I had finished our breakfast earlier.
“Mm-hmm.” Sienna moved to the pan and used a spatula to place them on the newly buttered toast.
“I’m really happy y’all got married.”
The dark-haired beauty smiled but it held a question. “Why? Because you always wanted someone to make Jethro eggs on toast?”
“Something like that.” Cletus crossed to the kitchen table, a pleased look on his face, and brought the mug to his lips before remembering the coffee was too hot. Frowning anew, he set the mug down.
“You should let me blow on it,” I said, low so that only he could hear, and his gaze cut to mine, held. I smiled.
He did not. But his eyes sure did get real hot.
“I’m here.” Ashley, announcing her arrival with a soft voice, stepped through the back door. She glanced at Sienna. “How’d he sleep?”
“I don’t know.” Sienna shrugged. “You know nothing wakes me up. But I’m about to wake up Jet. Shelly is coming over to watch Ben, and we need to leave in a half hour, so I’m making him breakfast. Do you want anything?”
“God, no,” Ashley blurted, holding up her hand as though to stave off a carnival clown, earning her a questioning look from all three of us. “I mean, I—uh—already ate.” She swallowed. The action seemed to take some effort.
I glanced at Cletus and found him inspecting his sister closely. “Ash, are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just—” the Winston sister pasted a forced, closedmouthed smile on her face “—tummy trouble.”
“Are you sure? You seem to be on the precipice of a severe gastrointestinal . . . voiding.”
“No. I already barfed.” Ash chuckled and winced. “I should be fine for the rest of the day, I just need a lemon drop or something.”
Cletus scratched his jaw through his beard, inspecting his sister as she walked stiffly to the table. “You want me to mix you a cocktail?”
“No, Cletus. The candy, not the cocktail. I have some in my bag. Just, hold on a second. Janie sent some . . . ugh, never mind. Just give me a minute.”
Feeling the press of attention on me, I glanced at Sienna and found her watching me with an intent and knowing look, her eyes big as quarters, her full lips smashed together as though working real hard not to spill some beans. “Maybe Jenn could make you some lemon custard tarts . . .”
My mouth dropped, my eyes widening with the realization, Ash is pregnant! OH MY GOD! When Sienna was pregnant with Benjamin, the only thing that helped with her nausea—or so she said—were my lemon custard tarts.
This was so exciting. So exciting. BABIES! YAY!
Cletus looked to me and did a double take. “What? Why do you look like that?”
“Like what?” I squeaked, picking up my English breakfast tea and taking a sip.
“Like you gotta pee and you’re real happy about it. What happened?”
I shook my head quickly. “Nothing.”
“That’s an untruth.” He pointed an accusing finger at me, his back straightening as his eyes ping-ponged between his sister, Sienna, and me. “Someone is telling me what’s going on, right now.”
“Slow your gourd, Cletus.” Ashley huffed, pulling a bag of yellow hard candies from her purse. “I’m pregnant, okay? Just give me a minute to get one of these suckers in my mouth.”
Cletus flinched back. His jaw dropped and he blinked like crazy. “You’re what?”
“With child.”
I jumped from my seat and jogged to her. “Can I hug you? This is so exciting!”
“Of course. All hugs are welcome from you, anytime.” She opened her arms and I immediately stepped into the embrace, careful not to squeeze too hard.
“I’ll make you those custard tarts today,” I promised. I no longer worked at the bakery on the weekends, but for Ashley, I’d make an exception.
“They really helped me,” Sienna said as she grabbed the plate of eggs on toast and darted out of the kitchen. “See you later. Love, love, love all of you.”
Waving to Sienna’s departing form, I turned to Cletus, expecting him to be next in line for a hug. Instead, he stood by the table, staring at Ash like he needed a moment to process.
“Are you okay, Cletus?” Ashley gave me a quick look. “Do you need a lie down and a valium?”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I just told you, right now.”
He still looked confused, befuddled, caught off guard. “What about an event? Shouldn’t you be telling folks this news at an event? This deserves fanfare and fireworks.”
“Cletus. You spent half your engagement party complaining about having to be there and the other half being questioned by the police, and you want me to throw an event to announce the fact that Drew and I had sex that resulted in the begetting of offspring? All while I try to keep from breathing in through my nose?”
“When you put it like that, no.” Cletus, a smile finally claiming his features, exhaled an enormous breath and positively beamed at his sister. “Wow, Ash. Congratulations,” he said softly, sincerely, gazing at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
My heart warmed as I looked between the two siblings.
“Thank you, Cletus—”
“I was talking to myself.” His smile became a sinister grin, and he rubbed his hands together, shooting me an excited look. “This is going to be so good. I’l
l be the godfather, of course.”
“Of course.” Ashley, voice flat, popped a lemon candy in her mouth and spoke around it, shaking her head at her brother. “Let me just sit down and we can pick out colleges.”
I walked back to the table and sat, picking up my tea and feeling buoyed by this wonderful news. Selfishly, I hoped Ash and Drew would make Cletus the godfather, then maybe I’d be the godmother. I’d always wanted to be one. Regardless, a new baby! To cuddle and kiss. I couldn’t wait.
“Yes. Colleges. Good idea. And it’d be great if she were a girl. Just throwing that request out there.” Cletus gave Ashley his signature somber nod.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she drawled, trying to look irritated. Mostly, she looked amused.
“And, obviously, your mission with Jackson is canceled.”
“What? Why?” Ashley pulled off her jacket.
“I don’t want him sniffing around you while you’re in such a delicate condition. One look at his face and you’d barf for sure.” Cletus turned back to the table, sitting down in front of his hot coffee. “We’ll find another way.”
“You are a loon.” She set her jacket and her purse on the kitchen counter. “Besides, I already did it.”
“What?” He glanced over his shoulder at her, frowning.
“That’s right.” Ash pulled her long sleeves up to her elbows. “Drew sent me a message after he met with you, to give me a heads-up, so I texted Jackson and we had dinner last night.”
I hid my smile behind another sip of tea.
“Jenn, take note. Never underestimate the effect my sister has on blond law enforcement.”
She rolled her eyes. “And I think I got you some good stuff, so listen up, I have to leave here in an hour for work.” Ash pulled out the chair next to mine, her movements still a little stiff, her nose slightly wrinkled like the kitchen stank.
I took a quiet testing sniff and found nothing offensive. Just the lingering smell of toast and eggs maybe?
“What do you want to know first?” The candy in Ash’s mouth seemed to be helping, she looked less green.
“Well, fine. Since you already suffered through a meal with Jackson. Have they found the gun used to shoot Kip?” Cletus folded his arms on the tabletop, leaning forward.
“No. They haven’t found any gun. But there was a rope around Kip’s neck when he was found in the car, which meant he was strangled and shot. Oh, Cletus, go look in my bag. Jackson gave me some pictures of the rope.”
“He gave you pictures of the rope?” Cletus asked as he stood, looking confused.
“He sure did, and a list of folks who were at the party but left before the shots were fired. They either have no alibi or their alibi isn’t rock solid.”
I squirmed in my seat, an uncomfortable, heavy sensation settling on my chest. I thought about excusing myself. Hearing about my father, how he’d died, that there was a list of suspects, was much harder than I’d thought it would be. I wasn’t prepared.
But, at the same time, I needed to know. I wanted to clear my momma’s name.
Digging through Ashley’s bag, Cletus pulled out two photoprints and a piece of scrap paper. He stared at the photos for a long time, giving none of his thoughts away. Then he flipped the pictures around to show us both. “What kind of knot is that?”
“Looks like a farmer’s knot to me.” Ashley crossed her arms.
I shrugged because I had no idea. I wasn’t a knot expert.
Cletus frowned at the picture of the rope and knot again. “And what kind of rope is that?”
“Jackson said it was something called Leaded Polysteel rope.”
Cletus’s eyes moved up and to the left. “A farmer’s knot in crabbing rope. How’d they do that?”
Sitting up straighter in my chair, I asked, “What’s crabbing rope?”
He didn’t seem to hear my question because, staring at nothing, he muttered, “It sinks . . .”
“Pardon?” Ashley tilted her head. “It stinks?”
“Sorry. Nothing.” Cletus turned his attention to the scrap paper and scanned it quickly. “How many times was he shot?” He sounded so detached, like was asking about laundry soap instead of someone’s death.
“Twice at point blank, both in the chest. He died almost instantly,” came Ashley’s equally detached reply.
“Do they know if the gun used to fire into the bakery was the same as the one used on Kip?” He came back to the table, placing the pictures of the rope flat in front of him and sliding the scrap of paper to me.
“Yes, and it was. Same gun.”
I took a deep, steadying breath, and then read the list.
Diane Donner ✘
Nancy Danvish ✓
Florence McClure ✓
Nikki Becker ✘
Kenneth Miller –✘
Posey Lamont ✘
Jedidiah Hill ✓
Vanessa Romero ✘
Roger Gangersworth ✘
Elena Wilkinson ✓
Jennifer Sylvester ✘
Cletus Winston ✘
Wait. . . WHAT?
“Wait a minute.” I picked up the paper and waved it. “Are these the suspects? Why are Cletus and I on this list?”
Chapter Eleven
*Jenn*
“It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.”
Aristotle, Metaphysics
I glanced between Ashley and Cletus, my heart in my throat. “Are we—are we suspects?”
Ashley gave me an unconcerned smile. “Y’all are each other’s alibis. Nancy and Flo have each other as alibis too. Anyone who might’ve had a motive and who has no alibi or a questionable one is on that list. But don’t worry, Jenn. Jackson didn’t seem concerned about you. Boone spoke up for y’all, so did Jackson, even though you’re using Diane’s lawyer.”
Cletus blew a puff of steam from his coffee cup, not seeming a lick concerned. “Ashley, did Kip die from the bullet wounds or from being strangled?”
“Technically, the gunshots killed him. But if he hadn’t been shot, there’s a case to be made that he would’ve died from strangulation. Basically, it’s six of one, half a dozen of the other. He was dead either way.”
I dropped my eyes to my teacup, inspecting it as I breathed in through my nose slowly, my momentary spike of alarm about possibly being a suspect replaced with a dark, painful wave of grief. Blinking my eyes against sudden moisture, I forced myself to suppress the distracting emotions.
I could do this. These details were important to helping my momma. Pretend we’re talking about someone else.
“Jackson thinks there were two people, a shooter and a strangler. But, despite what Jackson thinks is true,” Ashley added, “the official story coming out of the department is that the same person who strangled him also shot him.”
“That’s crazy,” I said, looking to Cletus. “Why would they think that?”
“I have no idea.” Ashley shrugged tiredly.
“Why is Diane their top suspect?” Cletus seemed to be working through a mental list of questions.
“Well, first, she won’t talk.”
Cletus’s lip curled. “She won’t talk at all?”
“According to Jackson, she talks through her lawyer. But you both know this, ’cause it’s how y’all made your statements too. The police submit questions, she sends through a response. That’s why they stopped bringing her in. No use. Jackson said it just makes her look really guilty, even though no one thinks she is.”
Cletus didn’t seem surprised by any of this. “What’s the story she told the police?”
Ashley’s forehead wrinkled. “Diane hasn’t talked to you?”
Before I could answer, Cletus cut in, “Just tell us what Jackson said.”
Cletus’s sister inspected me for a moment before answering. “Well, okay then. According to the written statements submitted by y’all’s lawyer, Ms. Donner says she got a text from Jenn to meet her in the parkin
g lot, and then—”
“What?” I looked to Cletus. “I didn’t send her a message. I was with you.”
“Go on Ash.” Cletus’s tone was grim. “What else?”
“Diane says she didn’t go to the parking lot but went instead to the honeymoon cabin, because that’s where Jenn left her phone for the night, and she knew Jenn didn’t have the phone with her at the party. Diane claims she wasn’t feeling well, with all the upheaval at the party, so by the time she got to the honeymoon cabin, she had a migraine and had to lie down with a pillow over her head. She says she didn’t hear the shots or anything else.”
Cletus grimaced as he listened to Ashley, visibly distressed. “Are you serious? That story makes no sense. She got a text from Jenn, but instead of going to where the text told her to go, she went to the cabin? What?”
“Hey”—Ashely lifted up her hands—“I’m just telling you what Jackson told me.”
“But the police searched the cabins that night. They searched the whole lodge,” Cletus said matter-of-factly.
“Yes. Diane’s statement says that around 8:00 PM, which would be after the shooting, after they noted all the cars in the lot—hers included—but before they searched the cabins, she drove home with her phone off, and went to bed.”
“Again, are you serious?” Cletus seemed stunned.
“Yes,” Ashley confirmed.
“That’s her story?”
“Yep. And the thing is, it checks out—as far as they can tell. They didn’t have enough man power that night to keep an eye on all the parking lots, and tape off the crime scene, and question everyone in the barn, and search all the rooms and cabins of the lodge, and maintain a police presence elsewhere in the county. Diane had closed the lodge to outside guests for the whole weekend, so why would they use resources to watch empty rooms?”
