by Sarah Fox
“Do you want us to talk about anything other than Demetra?” I asked.
“I don’t mind talking about her.” Chloe sank into the armchair Brett had occupied earlier. “I just don’t like thinking about her death over and over when I’m by myself.” She tucked her legs beneath her. “So, Chrissy didn’t recognize the ring.”
“Nope.” I sat down on the couch.
“So it probably wasn’t Demetra’s.” Brett sat next to me and rested an arm along the back of the couch.
“That sounds most likely to me.” Chloe took a sip of her iced tea. “Maybe it belonged to her killer?”
“That’s a theory most people seem to be gravitating toward,” I said.
“It’s a woman’s ring. So the murderer is a woman?”
“Could be.”
Lonny’s reaction to hearing about the ring replayed in my head. I was hesitant to bring his name into the discussion. I liked him and Hope, and I didn’t want to believe that he could have harmed Demetra. But I couldn’t ignore what I’d seen on his face.
“How did you and the others get to and from the party that night?” I asked Chloe. “Did you cut across the inn’s property or go another way?”
“Most of us went in by the road.”
“There’s a narrow dirt road that follows the river through the woods,” Brett explained. “It dead-ends not far from where we found Demetra’s skeleton.”
“And you left the same way?” I directed the question at Chloe.
“I didn’t, but I’m sure lots of people did. I didn’t want to walk through the woods by myself so I cut across the inn’s land. I knew Hope’s aunt wouldn’t mind. It was still creepy walking alone in the dark, but not as bad as going through the forest. I followed the driveway down to the road and kept walking from there.”
“You should have called for a ride,” Brett said.
“I was upset. I didn’t want to talk to anybody at the time.”
“It was after dark, and there was a killer wandering around. Walking by yourself wasn’t smart.”
“I didn’t know there was a killer!” Chloe glared at her brother. “And this was all ten years ago. Why are you being a jerk?”
Brett opened his mouth to respond, but I beat him to it.
“He doesn’t like to think about you being in danger.” I nudged him in the chest. “Right?”
He didn’t come out and admit it, but he also didn’t deny it, and the tension in his jaw and shoulders eased slightly.
Chloe’s shoulders dropped too, and the annoyance faded from her expression. “To be honest, I don’t like to think about what might have happened if I’d gone through the woods. Maybe Demetra’s murder was targeted, but maybe it wasn’t.” She stared down into the remains of her iced tea. “Anyway, I made it home safely.”
“Did you see anything along the way?” I asked. “Was there anyone else out and about, or did you hear any noises?”
“I don’t think so. I remember it being a pretty lonely walk.” She was about to take a sip of her drink when she stopped. “There were lights on in Hope’s house. I remember that. Light was spilling out the windows, and it helped me to see where I was going.”
“But you didn’t see anyone?” I asked, wondering if Quaid could have been lurking about that night.
“No.”
“What about at the gardener’s cottage?”
Chloe drummed her fingers against the side of her glass as she thought about that. “The lights were on there too, I think. It’s hard to say for sure, though. It was such a long time ago. But I didn’t see anyone, I remember that much for certain.”
“Was Quaid the gardener back then?” Brett asked.
“He was,” I replied.
Chloe made a face. “I can’t stand that guy. Do you think he could be the killer?”
“I think it’s a possibility,” I said.
“But what about the ring?” Brett asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe he’d bought it for a woman in his life and hadn’t given it to her yet? I don’t know, but he’s definitely a suspect in my mind.”
“I walked right past his cottage that night. If he is the killer…” Chloe shuddered.
Brett frowned at that thought.
“What about Lonny?” I decided not to skirt the issue any longer.
Brett’s gaze shifted from his sister to me. “What about him?”
“Was he at the party that night?”
“No,” Chloe said. “He was invited, even though he wasn’t part of our graduating class, but he had to work early the next morning. He and Hope had been in town earlier, so they picked me up and Lonny drove us into the woods and dropped us off.”
So he was in the vicinity of the party at one point that night.
My heart sank. No matter how much I liked him and his wife, it seemed liked Lonny deserved a place on my list of suspects.
Chapter 18
“Do you know where Lonny went after he dropped you off in the woods?” I asked, hoping I could find an easy way to eliminate him from my pool of suspects.
“Home. He wanted to go to bed because he had to be up early.”
“Are you sure he went home?”
A crease appeared across Chloe’s forehead. “That’s where he said he was going. Why?” Her eyes widened. “No way! You can’t be thinking Lonny is the killer.”
“I don’t want him to be.”
“Why would you even suspect him?” Brett asked. “Did he know Demetra at all?” He directed that last question at his sister.
“He knew who she was,” Chloe replied, “but I don’t know if they ever had anything to do with each other.”
They both looked to me, so I told them about Lonny’s reaction to hearing about the ring.
“Are you sure that’s what he was reacting to?” Chloe asked. “Maybe it was something else. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well.”
“I could be mistaken,” I said, although I didn’t really believe that I was.
Chloe had a tight grip on her empty glass. “You must be. Lonny wouldn’t hurt anyone. And why would he recognize the ring, anyway? It’s a woman’s ring.”
“It was for Hope,” Brett said.
Chloe and I looked at him.
“Didn’t they get married pretty soon after you and Hope graduated?” he asked Chloe.
“About a year later,” she confirmed.
“So he was carrying the ring around, planning to propose to her, waiting for the right moment.” He shrugged when Chloe and I didn’t say anything. “It’s possible.”
“It is,” I agreed.
“But he didn’t propose to her until around Christmastime,” Chloe said.
I remembered what Hope had told me the day before. “New Year’s Eve.”
“Because he lost the ring,” Brett said. “He probably had to save up to buy another one.”
It made sense, unfortunately.
Chloe shook her head. “No. I don’t want to believe it.”
I didn’t either and said as much.
Brett shifted his arm from the back of the couch to rest across my shoulders. “What about a motive?”
Chloe perked up. “Exactly. He hasn’t got one.” She sent an apprehensive glance my way. “Right?”
“I don’t know of any.”
She visibly relaxed. “I’m sure it wasn’t Lonny.”
“I hope you’re right.” I decided to shift the conversation slightly. “When I was at Chrissy’s store and overheard her talking about the ring, Amy Strudwick was there too.”
“Is she the photographer?” Brett asked.
Chloe drained the last of her iced tea. “Yep. She has a studio in Port Townsend now.”
“Was Amy at the party?” I asked.
“No. And she never had much to do with Demetra. She hu
ng out with the artsy people like the Olafson twins, and I don’t think Demetra was very nice to her in middle school. Not that Demetra was nice to anyone, but there were a few people she picked on in particular, me and Amy being among them.” She pressed her lips together. “Although…”
“Although?” I prodded.
Chloe took a second before responding. “Amy did help out Demetra with her modeling portfolio senior year. Demetra wanted some pictures to take with her when she went to New York, and Amy was already a good photographer back then. It surprised me at the time that Amy was willing to help her out, but I guess Demetra must have paid her. Amy’s family didn’t have much money and she wanted to go to a photography school, so I guess getting paid might have made it worthwhile to her.”
I thought over that information, but I still couldn’t move any pieces together in the puzzle of Demetra’s murder.
Brett squeezed my shoulder. “I can see the gears moving in your head.”
“It’s not doing much good,” I said.
Chloe got up from her seat. “I know what you mean. I’ve been over it a thousand times in my mind, but I don’t seem to get any closer to figuring it out. It doesn’t help that it happened so long ago. The only reason I remember anything is because we were questioned about it a few weeks after the party.”
“Hopefully Ray and his deputies know more than we do,” Brett said.
“That’s probably the case.” I got up and took Chloe’s glass into the kitchen with my own, setting them in the sink.
Chloe paused by the kitchen table. “What are these fabric samples for?”
I told her about my plans for the furniture in the front living room. “These are my top three favorites.” I spread out the gray, teal, and black-and-white ones.
“They’re all gorgeous,” Chloe said. “But I’d go with either the gray or the teal. They’re more welcoming than the black and white. I think that one’s a little too modern.”
Brett joined us by the table. “How can fabric be welcoming?”
Chloe rolled her eyes. Brett grinned and headed for the fridge.
“I think you’re right.” I moved the black-and-white sample off to the side. “Thanks. That narrows it down, at least.”
Chloe was ready to head out, so I walked with her to the foyer while Brett popped open a can of soda in the kitchen. Bentley trotted along the hall with us, and when we reached the foyer Chloe crouched down to give him some attention. His tail wagged with pure happiness, and he gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
She laughed and wiped her face with her sleeve as she straightened up. “No Flapjack?” she asked me.
“I think he’s asleep upstairs somewhere.”
“Give him a kiss from me?”
“I will.”
Brett had joined us in the foyer by then. He walked Chloe out to her car while Bentley trotted across the dark yard to sniff at the bushes near the fence. I waved to Chloe and retreated to the back of the house. When Brett returned, I was standing by the kitchen table, staring at the teal and gray fabric samples again.
He stopped behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Still can’t decide?”
“Nope.”
He tapped the teal one. “This one. It’s more you.”
“But is it more us?”
“Definitely.”
I smiled. “Okay. Teal it is.” I leaned back and relaxed against him.
“Want to tell me what was on your mind earlier?” he asked.
I rested my hands over his, hesitant to share. “It’s silly.”
“But it was bothering you.”
“It was,” I agreed, “but I don’t even know why. It doesn’t make sense.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Maybe I can help you make sense of it.”
I stepped out of his arms and took his hand, tugging him toward the couch. “Okay. You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but there’s this man.…”
“Should I be worried?” he asked when I trailed off.
He sounded more amused than anything, but I stopped and put my hands to his face anyway. “As if.”
That got a grin out of him.
I sank down onto the couch and picked up the photo album from the coffee table. “I’ll show you.”
He sat down next to me as I flipped open the album and pointed to a portrait of my father. “That’s my dad.”
“Okay.”
I grabbed my phone from the coffee table and brought up the picture I’d taken at the pancake house that morning. “And I’ve seen this man in town a couple of times now.”
Brett took the phone out of my hand and studied the picture. “Okay… I’m not seeing the connection.”
“You don’t think they look alike?”
Brett cast a sidelong glance my way before returning his attention to the photos. He studied one, then the other. “I guess if you ignore the age difference, they look fairly similar.” He turned his eyes to me. “Hold on. Are you saying they’re the same person? Because didn’t your dad die before you were born?”
“He did.”
I could feel his eyes on me during the beat of silence that followed.
“Are you trying to tell me you think your dad is back from the dead?”
I couldn’t blame him for sounding so incredulous.
“No,” I said. “Well, okay, part of me did wonder at first if it was possible that my dad was still alive, but I know that’s crazy. My mom wasn’t there with him when he died, but she went to his funeral and saw his body. Besides, why would he or anyone else have faked his death, right?”
“It might be a plausible scenario if we were living in a soap opera.”
“I know. It’s unrealistic. I can accept that now. But I can’t ignore the fact that there’s a definite resemblance. And I can’t help but wonder if this Joe guy is related to me in some way.”
Brett studied the photos again. “An uncle, maybe?”
“My dad was an only child, and I can’t find anyone on my family tree that fits.”
Brett shut the album and set it on the coffee table along with my phone. “Then it’s just a coincidence that he looks like your dad.” He rested an arm across my shoulders. “It happens sometimes. People who are completely unrelated look like they could be siblings.”
“I know.” I let out a heavy sigh and leaned against him.
“But you want him to be a relative.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised that he could read me like that. “It’s silly, but in a way I do.”
“Why? You don’t know anything about him.”
I had to think about my answer for a moment. “It doesn’t have anything to do with him, exactly. I guess I just…” I had to take another second to sort out my thoughts. “I don’t have much family left. Aside from some really distant relatives I’ve never met, it’s just me and my mom now. I guess part of me wishes I had more family. And I wish everyone I loved who’s already gone could meet you, could see how happy you make me.”
Brett put two fingers to my chin and turned my head so he could kiss me. “I wish I could have met them too. And I know you’ve lost a lot of loved ones, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re short on family. I want you to feel like my family is yours too.”
“Really?” I blinked back tears.
“Really.” He pulled me closer and rested his chin on the top of my head.
“I’m well on my way to that,” I said. “Chloe is one of my closest friends, and your parents are great.” I glanced over at the photo album. “I’m not sure I can stop thinking about this Joe guy, though.”
“If you want to know for sure if he’s related to you, then why don’t you ask him if that’s a possibility? Or at least get his full name.”
“That’s another thing. He was reluctant to share any information about him
self. I’m not even convinced that Joe is his real name. I don’t think he really wanted to talk to me at all.”
“Ah,” Brett said.
I tipped my head back to look at him. “What?”
“You think he’s hiding something.”
“That’s the feeling I got.”
“And little did he know that by holding back on you he’d make you want to know about him all the more.”
I didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling.
“I can’t help that I’m curious by nature.”
I felt more than heard his short rumble of laughter. “No, you can’t. Curiosity. That’s your incurable condition.”
I smiled. “I can’t argue with that diagnosis.”
Brett got up and pulled me to my feet. “That man doesn’t know what he’s in for. But why don’t we forget about him for tonight?”
“I can try, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to shut my mind off.”
He tugged me closer and gave me a kiss that almost sent me floating away.
“Did that help?” he asked once the kiss was over, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.
“Mmm.” I slipped my arms around him. “Only a little. I might need more of that kind of help.”
His grin widened. “That’s definitely not a problem.”
Chapter 19
While I didn’t exactly forget about the mysterious man Joe, I did manage to push thoughts of him to the back of my mind for the next couple of days. He hadn’t returned to the pancake house, and I hadn’t run into him around town. One of the few things he’d told me was that he was only in Wildwood Cove for a short time, so I knew there was a good chance he was already long gone. While it bugged me that I’d likely never know anything more about him, there wasn’t anything I could do about it, so I tried to focus on other things.
That wasn’t too difficult, considering that Demetra’s murder remained unsolved. I wasn’t keen on questioning Quaid since I couldn’t stand the guy and didn’t want to get him mad at me if he was indeed capable of murder. But I was also hesitant to approach Lonny in an attempt to get more information out of him. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was because I liked him and didn’t want to upset him or if I was worried I’d find out something I’d rather not know.
