“Catch you later, Oscar,” she announced and left the room.
§
Fondly dubbed the snake pit, Devon entered the display that was literally filled with wax snakes. She cringed at the entirely too realistic reptiles dangerously close to the walkway, which was lined with fake torches, making it look as if the fire was keeping the snakes back. Ross worked in the middle of the pit and put the finishing touches on a wax man and woman drowning in the snakes. Devon paused on the walkway and eyed Ross. He saw her and waved her to join him.
“Thanks,” she announced while making a face, “but I’m good right here.”
“I need your help,” he announced.
She grimaced and attempted to tiptoe through the fake snakes. “Whose idea was this display of terror anyway?” she practically demanded.
When she was nearly halfway to Ross, the snakes began to move, and the room was filled with the sounds of hissing and rattling. Several large cobras lifted their hooded heads. Devon screamed then glared at Ross while he watched her and laughed.
“Come on,” he again insisted.
“Turn them off,” she cried out, refusing to move.
Ross frowned and turned off the animatronics with the remote control. “Party pooper.”
§
Devon sat in the workshop and implanted long strands of reddish-brown hair into the head of a wax woman while Tyler stood over her shoulder and watched with great interest.
“You do excellent work, Devon.”
“Thanks,” she replied then resumed working on the wax head.
She didn’t know how much longer she could tolerate Tyler standing over her shoulder. She was starting to feel like a prison inmate with the guard watching her every move. Devon didn’t know why she felt such a creepy vibe from Tyler. He didn’t actually do anything to make her feel that way. She couldn’t write it off as a rich boy wanting to play the role of an artist, because that’s exactly what Brant was doing.
“Brant has taught you well,” he announced then sank into thought and sat on the counter near her. “I’m worried about him. I hope nothing’s happened to him. It’s not like him to take off.”
“He probably doesn’t even know the police are looking for him.”
He cocked his head while glancing at her then offered a tiny smile. “Nice try, but it’s been in all of the papers,” Tyler insisted then sighed. “I’m really worried about him.” He then glanced at her and appeared curious. “You haven’t heard from him, have you?”
“Not since his parents took him home from the hospital,” she remarked.
“If you have, you can tell me,” Tyler announced while giving her a sympathetic look. “I won’t say anything to the police. Brant’s not just my business partner; he’s also my friend.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon and straighten everything out,” she insisted while also trying to convince herself of that.
Tyler placed a hand on her shoulder and pointed to the wax woman’s eyes. “This is just so realistic,” he announced then grinned. “You’ve really come a long way in a short time.”
“Thank you.”
“I have a lot of ideas for the museum displays,” Tyler announced and finally stood, giving her more room to work. “I was thinking we could discuss them over dinner tonight.”
Tyler turned toward her from behind and gently massaged her shoulders. Devon immediately tensed to his touch. She knew better than to assume it was just a friendly shoulder massage.
“I, uh, have plans for tonight,” she remarked and hoped that’d stop his hands.
“Oh?”
Ross entered the room with a burst of energy while wearing a big grin. He clapped his hands together excitedly and began to dance around the room. Tyler removed his hands from Devon’s shoulders and moved away from her. That he didn’t want Ross to see his hands on her shoulders confirmed her suspicions regarding his intentions.
“Put on your dancing shoes, Devon,” Ross announced enthusiastically. “We’re going to party hearty.” He did a little dance that was mostly embarrassing. “Time to get this weekend started!”
Devon turned and smiled while watching Ross embarrass himself with his goofy dancing. She had to admit; his timing was perfect.
§
Limousines were parked in front of the exclusive Ruby Club located within the city. Well-dressed men and women entered the glittery club and enjoyed the party atmosphere. Devon had little choice but wear the borrowed, black dress. She linked onto Ross’s arm as they entered the club. It was the first time she’d seen Ross in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt. Tony and Ivy entered behind them. Ivy wore a red, spandex dress and her hair was meticulously styled. There were people at the bar drinking and even more on the dance floor. Everyone in the club was dressed in their finest. The four walked across the club and found a table that had just opened.
“I’m going to the bar and order some drinks,” Ross announced. “I’ll be right back.”
Devon hurried after him, stopped him just short of the bar, and smiled knowingly. “Okay, Ross. What’s this all about?” she practically demanded. “It’s not like you to willingly suggest an expensive club like this. The cover charge is more then you make an hour.”
Ross reluctantly sighed. “On the night Jamie was murdered, Brant said he was at his parents’ house, but he’d left early because he and his mother got into a fight. Supposedly he came here,” he informed her. “Jamie didn’t leave the diner until six o’clock, so they’re estimating her time of death between six-thirty and nine-thirty. I thought we’d come here and see if we could establish an alibi for him for that two-hour window from seven-thirty until nine-thirty.”
“How did you know Brant got into a fight with his mother?” she asked. “I never told you that.”
He immediately fidgeted. “Uh, an anonymous phone call told me to check this club for a bartender named Ozzy.”
“You were talking to Brant!” she exclaimed as her eyes lit up.
Ross motioned for her to keep it down. He looked around with some uneasiness. “Just briefly,” he announced in a hushed tone. “He was around people during Jamie’s estimated time of death. It’s the only alibi we can produce for him.”
They approached the bar and found the bartender named Ozzy. Ozzy was a big man in his late twenties. He had long red hair pulled back into a ponytail and a neatly trimmed beard. His appearance was almost frightening to those who didn’t know him.
Ozzy casually leaned on the bar. “Yeah, he was here that night. I remember him well,” he remarked. “One of the few patrons wearing a tuxedo. Great tipper. Comes in here a lot of Friday nights. Likes to sit in the corner. Quiet. Keeps to himself.”
Several customers ordered drinks, keeping Ozzy and the other bartenders busy. Ozzy poured several drinks and made change for the customers while they questioned him about that night.
“So he was here that Friday night--all night?” Ross pressed.
“Yeah, until about one-thirty. He nearly passed out at the bar,” Ozzy replied. “He’d been drinking with another man at the bar that night. The guy called him a cab.”
“Can you tell me who he was with?” Ross asked with renewed enthusiasm.
“I’ve seen the guy a couple of times, but I don’t know names,” Ozzy replied. “He was with the other guy from about ten o’clock until they left half an hour before closing. I remember it well. They were depressing me with talk about women. Your man was interested in some woman, but he was afraid she’d never be interested in him, and the other guy lost the woman he loved.”
“Would you be willing to tell the police he was here the entire time?” Ross asked.
“Sure. He gives great tips.”
Ross looked at Devon as Ozzy walked away. “He was at his parents’ house until six-thirty, and it took fifteen minutes to get here. He has the bartender as a witness from seven until one-thirty,” Ross announced. “It’d take him at least forty-five minutes to return to town. I’d say it’d
be impossible for him to have murdered Jamie.”
Devon smiled happily and hugged Ross.
Chapter Forty-six
The following morning, Devon had her horse tied in the crossties in the center of the barn while she brushed him. She intended to spend the entire morning taking a lengthy, well-deserved ride. She needed to clear her head and stop thinking for a few hours. Martin appeared in the barn doorway still wearing his clothes from the night before. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the doorframe, and smiled wearily while watching her.
“You’re up early,” he announced pleasantly.
She eyed her brother, noted his exhaustion, and grinned deviously. “I could say the same about you,” she teased. “I didn’t hear you come in last night. What time did you get home?”
“Five minutes ago,” he remarked while grinning.
She raised her brows suggestively and noted his enthusiasm despite his weary condition. “One of those nights, huh?”
“Possibly the best night I’ve had in years,” he remarked while grinning.
“Really?” she asked with surprise then gave him her full attention. She noted the look on his face and the sparkle in his eyes. She didn’t remember the last time she’d seen him looking that way. Perhaps she’d never seen him looking that way. “Does this mean you’re in love?”
“Never know,” he replied with a shrug although his smile told a different story. He was obviously on cloud nine.
“Think we may actually meet this one?” she prompted, hoping he’d finally found the right woman. Nothing would make her happier.
“Well,” he fumbled slightly, although his smile never disappeared. “You know I don’t like to bring young ladies around since they rarely work out. I promise, though, you’ll be the first one to meet the love of my life when I’m sure.”
“I’d better be,” she announced.
“Going out for a ride?”
“I’ve neglected my poor horse lately,” she replied and patted the horse’s thick neck. “He needs to stretch his legs.” She cast a serious look at her brother. “Marlene’s wake is this evening. Are you going?”
Martin groaned and fidgeted while straightening. “You know how I feel about funerals and dead people on display,” he announced. “It creeps me out.”
“Well, you’re in luck then,” Devon announced. “Marlene was cremated yesterday, so there won’t be a viewing; just a memorial.”
He sighed softly. “Considering our brief romantic history, I should probably pay my respects,” Martin remarked. “If you’re taking the scenic ride, stay away from the hired men. They’ve been acting odd the past week. I think they’re up to something.”
“When aren’t they?” she remarked then hesitated. “Remember that summer Marco had his girlfriend living in the bunkhouse for nearly two months?”
Martin chuckled. “Best kept secret on the ranch,” he announced.
Devon continued to brush her horse then sank into thought. She hesitated then turned toward her brother with a serious look on her face. “Tell me something, Martin. Do you remember Jamie being engaged?”
“Jamie?” he asked with surprise. “No, I don’t recall ever hearing about that. Why do you ask?”
“Ross and I were poking around in Jamie’s room after Dorothy’s death, and we found an engagement ring in a junk box in the closet,” Devon informed him. “Judging by the karat size, I’m guessing it was given to her by someone of limited means.”
“Really?” Martin remarked then appeared momentarily surprised as he considered the comment. “It’s possible she may have been engaged to some guy briefly when she was younger then dumped him as usual. Not to speak ill of the dead, but you know how Jamie was.” He brushed it off with little interest. “I doubt she was murdered by some jilted lover from years ago. Forget about the murders for a while and enjoy your ride. I need to get some sleep.” His cheerful smile again returned. “I have a busy night ahead of me.”
She laughed knowing exactly what sort of night he had ahead of him. “Pleasant dreams, lover boy.”
§
That night, a thunderstorm was heard in the distance. Despite the approaching storm, Devon slept peacefully as the curtains gently blew inward from the increasing winds. A shadow moved along the balcony past her open window. Just then, a floorboard creaked causing Devon to stir. She listened a moment. When she didn’t hear anything, she nuzzled her pillow. The shadow passed over her as a dark figure moved closer to her bed. Devon woke and shot up in bed with a gasp to see Brant sitting on the edge of the bed near her. He was wearing faded blue jeans, a cotton shirt, and cowboy boots.
“Please, don’t scream,” he practically gasped. “I saw the assortment of shotguns your father keeps in the downstairs cabinet.”
“Brant,” she softly cried out with surprise and looked him over.
“I know I’m taking a chance coming here,” he announced timidly, “but I had to see you.”
Devon threw her arms around Brant’s neck and clung to him. He uncertainly returned the embrace and buried his face in her neck.
“I guess you aren’t as mad as I thought you’d be,” he muttered into her neck.
Devon pulled away, gave him an angry glare, and repeatedly smacked him on the chest. “You’d better believe I’m mad,” she cried out in a whisper. “I was worried sick.”
“I meant about the murder accusation,” he replied timidly and offered a concerned look. “I was afraid you might believe I killed those women.”
“I know better,” she announced then grinned with enthusiasm. “Ross talked to that bartender. He’s agreed to testify that you were at the club all night.” She grabbed his hands and held them. “You should be cleared by Monday morning.”
He gave her a confused look. “What bartender?” Brant asked. “What are you talking about?”
“The one you told Ross about. The bartender at the Ruby Club,” she announced while holding back her laugh. “You were there the night of Jamie’s murder.”
Brant stared at her and remained puzzled. “I haven’t spoken to Ross since the day they’d searched my house,” he remarked.
She was momentarily stunned by his words. “That doesn’t make any sense,” Devon remarked. “Who would call Ross and tell him to check out that club and mention the bartender by name?”
“Truthfully, that idea never even occurred to me,” he replied and appeared embarrassed. “I was pretty drunk that night. I don’t even remember calling a cab to take me home.”
Devon brushed off the conversation then touched his shirt while giving him an approving once-over. “Look at you. You look like a cowboy,” she announced then met his gaze. “Where have you been hiding out?”
“In the bunkhouse with your father’s ranch hands. I think they mostly felt sorry for me,” he announced. “I’ve been herding cattle with them the entire week.”
She stared at him surprised to hear he’d been hanging out at her ranch all week. It was no wonder the ranch hands were acting strangely.
Devon smiled and laughed. “You can be devious when you want to be.”
He drew a deep breath while staring into her eyes. “Maybe,” he replied timidly, “but that’s not what brought me to your bedroom window.”
Devon stared at Brant a moment then smiled warmly. She gently ran her hands along his chest and slipped her arms around his neck. He didn’t look away from her while anticipating her next move. Devon was almost humored by his shy nature. She leaned closer and kissed him warmly on the lips. Brant wasted little time returning the kiss and pulled her against him. The warm, tender kiss swiftly turned passionate and aggressive as both released pent-up desire. Devon finally broke off the kiss and affectionately caressed his face while staring into his eyes through the dim lighting.
“This is the part where you throw me down to the bed and make love to me, cowboy,” she informed him then grinned slyly.
Brant stared at her a moment with surprise then groaned with desir
e.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He practically tackled her to the bed, not wasting a moment. Thunder rumbled loudly as the rain poured down outside the window, but neither seemed to notice.
Chapter Forty-seven
Devon entered the doctor’s office waiting room Monday morning and approached the nurse seated at the front desk. Since they were a small town, the older nurse was also the secretary. To someone unfamiliar with their town, they may not have realized Gina was a registered nurse since she dressed in a flowered print shirt and polyester pants. Devon looked around the empty waiting room, surprised the office was empty.
“Quiet today,” Devon remarked.
“I like quiet,” the older nurse announced while smiling pleasantly.
Gina was in her early sixties and had been Dr. Sherman’s nurse since he first opened his practice decades ago. Dr. Sherman delivered most of the babies in town straight through Devon’s generation. Gina was only a tick over five-foot and possibly shrinking. She was a round, stout woman with her long, gray hair worn in a granny bun. Well, she was a granny, so it was only fitting. The older woman leaned on the desk and smiled pleasantly at Devon.
“How can I help you, dear?” Gina asked. “Doc had a house call, but if you’d like to wait, I’m sure he’ll see you when he gets back. His schedule is wide open.”
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Devon announced then fidgeted. “I, uh, actually wanted to discuss birth control options with Dr. Sherman.”
Gina suddenly grinned. “Oh, you’re seeing a young man? That’s wonderful.”
Devon exhaled and relaxed slightly. “I didn’t expect much support,” she announced then fidgeted. “You know; since I’m not married.”
Gina laughed while covering her mouth. She then waved off Devon. “Honey, I may be old, but I know what it’s like to be young. Get out there. Test the waters!” She then stood and approached the filing cabinet behind her. “I have a few brochures you can look at while waiting for Doc.” She removed some brochures then returned to the desk. “Of course, he may recommend you see an OBGYN for that.”
Murder in Wax Page 19
