by Jeff Shelby
My incredulity was morphing into anger. Because if the sheriff had seen that note, how did he have the gall to come to Mikey’s restaurant and tell me that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that someone staying at my home—presumably me—was responsible for Drew’s death? Especially if he was well aware that the note from Zoe existed?
My fingers tightened on the note. “Why didn’t you tell me about this when you found it?”
“Why would I?” he asked. “We didn’t think Drew’s death was anything other than an accident at the time, remember?”
This was true.
“And you’re a little overextended at the moment,” he pointed out. “The last thing you needed this week was any more drama added to your plate. And this note from Zoe just felt like relationship drama.”
“What does it feel like now?” I asked. “Because I know what it feels like to me. Proof.” I held it out in front of me. “Proof that she killed him.”
“Hold on a minute,” Gunnar cautioned. “It doesn’t prove anything.”
I stabbed at the note with my finger. “What are you talking about? She literally threatened him!”
“All we know is that she was upset with him,” he said. “We don’t know that she actually did anything about it.”
I didn’t want to admit that he was right.
“And there’s also the question of how she could have done it,” Gunnar said. “How would she have gotten into the bungalow, especially without Luke and Thor knowing? And where did she get the cord? How did she have the physical strength to do it?”
I sighed. Those were the same questions I had come up with. “Okay, okay. So we don’t have all the answers. But we have this.” I waved the note.
“We do,” Gunnar said with a smile. “We just need more before we go around hurling accusations.”
I nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”
He looked pleased. Perhaps a little surprised at how agreeable I’d suddenly become, but pleased too.
“So let’s go.”
He frowned. “Go where?”
“Go get more info. From Zoe.”
“But…but what about dinner?” he sputtered.
“Connor’s making it,” I reminded him. “He’s a good cook. It’ll turn out fine.”
“But your guests…?”
I reached for his hand and started pulling him toward the barn door. He dragged his feet but didn’t put up too much of a fight.
“Rainy,” he said as we walked back outside and I took a hard right toward his house. “Dinner? Guests? You can’t just leave them.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “They won’t even know we’re gone.”
TWENTY NINE
We were parked in front of Mabel Wilson’s house less than ten minutes later. Gunnar had the truck in park, the engine idling.
“So what exactly are we doing?”
“We’re going to talk to Zoe,” I told him. “We know she’s here. Her car is right there.” I pointed to her little Miata.
“And what are you going to say?”
I grabbed the door handle and pushed. “No idea,” I said. I hopped out of the truck and was up the sidewalk before Gunnar had the key out of the ignition.
I got to the door and patted my pocket. The note was there, tucked inside. I debated my strategy. Did I just yank it out and show it to her? Wait for her to explain it? Or did I start with some conversation, ask her some questions about Drew, and then pull it out?
I was still considering my options when the door flew open. Zoe was standing in front of me, her long dark hair pulled back, a jubilant smile on her face.
“Rainy!” She sounded ecstatic to see me. “Oh my goodness, this is so unexpected. I mean, I was hoping this would happen but I just thought it was all over, you know?” She looked over her shoulder and yelled, “Grandma!”
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Calling for Grandma,” Zoe said. “To let her know she’s going to be playing!”
I gaped at her. “What?”
“That’s why you’re here, right?” She looked just past me. “Oh, hi.”
I spun around. Gunnar had joined me and was eyeing the situation warily. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” I murmured.
Mabel appeared next to Zoe. A white napkin was tucked into the nape of her blouse, and a dab of ketchup dotted her chin.
Her watery eyes sparkled behind her thick glasses. “Oh, goodness! Let me guess. You need me for the wedding.”
I opened my mouth to speak but Zoe was already talking.
“Yes!” she practically squealed. She gripped her grandma’s hands tight. “Why don’t you go look at your music selection? You need to start putting together what songs you want to sing.” Zoe glanced at me. “Of course, she can take requests, too, provided she knows the songs. Your daughter and her fiancé wouldn’t happen to be Celine Dion fans, would they?”
I shook my head, then frowned. Why in the world was I answering her?
Mabel shuffled away from the door. “I’ll get to work on it right now.”
I rubbed my forehead. This was not going according to plan.
But then I remembered I didn’t have a plan.
“I’m actually here to ask you a few questions,” I said. I darted a glance at Gunnar and he gave a slight nod of encouragement.
“Oh, of course,” Zoe said with a nod. “We should probably discuss times and fees and all that.”
“Times?”
“When you need her to start and how long she needs to perform. She’s a great singer but she does need to rest from time to time,” Zoe explained. “And if there’s a gap between the wedding and reception, she might need a nap. Since the ceremony and reception are both at your house, would there be a room available for her to lie down for thirty or so minutes? She might need to do this a couple of times, depending upon the length of the reception.”
I stared at her.
Zoe continued on, seemingly unaware. “As far as fees go, I’m afraid she’s a little more expensive than a DJ.” She held up a hand. “And I know, you shifted away from the DJ and moved to a band. But the band was playing for free, correct? Because your son was volunteering the band’s time? Waiving their fee?”
Weakly, I nodded.
Zoe winced. “Yeah, so the rate might be a little more than what you were quoted from the DJ, but trust me when I say that live music is worth every penny. Your guests will remember a live musical act.”
Gunnar cleared his throat. “Are you done?”
Zoe looked at him. “Done?”
“Done talking,” he clarified.
“Oh.” She looked a little taken aback. “Um, sure. I guess.”
“I think Rainy would like to ask you a question or two.” He looked at me and nodded.
I reached into my pocket and slowly pulled out the piece of paper.
Zoe watched, her face registering nothing.
I unfolded it and held it out so she could see.
“How did this end up in my bungalow?”
THIRTY
Zoe paled.
“It’s not what you think,” she said quickly, taking a step backward.
I thrust the note closer. “No?”
She shook her head, her eyes wide.
“Because I’ll tell you what I think,” I said. “I think you killed Drew.”
She gasped.
“Rainy.” Gunnar put a hand on my shoulder.
I shrugged it off. I’d just made a decision. I was there for answers, and I was going to get them. And I’d decided, wisely or not, that playing hardball was the way to do it.
“He was your ex-boyfriend, right?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“And he’d landed a musical gig you wanted for your grandma. You thought that if the drummer was taken out, the band couldn’t play…and Grandma could slip right in.”
Zoe shook her head wildly. “No. That’s not true!”
; “What isn’t true?” I demanded. “You have been trying to get her this so-called gig ever since you knew the wedding was happening.”
“I know.” Her voice was small. “But I didn’t do it. I swear.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“I didn’t.” Her voice was stronger now. “Yes, I was upset with him, for a whole bunch of reasons. He’s the biggest jerk on the planet.”
I managed a small nod. This was something I didn’t have any problem agreeing with.
“And I did want to sabotage his music so Grandma could perform.”
I looked at Gunnar. He was watching, listening.
“But I didn’t kill him. I swear.” When I tried to speak, she cut me off. “I…I destroyed his drums.” She took a deep breath. “I got a knife from the church kitchen, one of the butcher block ones, and dragged it across the top of every single one of his drums.”
So I’d been right about that.
“And I know it was an awful thing to do, but it felt great in the moment.” She bit her lip. “I can’t tell you how horrible he was to me.”
I refused to feel any sympathy for her, even though I could feel my heart responding.
“That was all I did, though. I wrecked his drums. I didn’t kill him.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Why should we believe you?” Gunnar asked.
Her eyes shifted so she was looking at him. “Because it’s the truth.”
“What if it isn’t, though?” he said. “What if you’re just saying that because you’re worried about what you did? Worried about going to jail?”
“But it’s the truth,” she insisted. She glanced around her, almost as if she were looking for reinforcements. And then her expression changed. She actually smiled. “I have an alibi!”
“What, your grandma?” I asked.
“No.” Zoe shook her head. “I was with someone that night.”
I waited.
Her cheeks colored a little but she stood straight and said. “I was with Thor.”
“Thor?” Gunnar and I said at the same time.
She nodded triumphantly.
Gunnar and I exchanged glances.
“How?” I asked.
“What do you mean how?”
“How do you even know him?”
“I don’t.” She wouldn’t look at me. “I mean, I do. But we just met. This week. And…and he came over on Tuesday night. After the practice.”
“How did he get here?”
“I came back to the church after I dropped Grandma at home,” Zoe said. “And I waited out in the parking lot for them to finish practicing.”
“So you could ruin the drums?”
She sucked in her cheeks. “Yes,” she said. “But Thor stuck around because I asked him to.”
“You asked him to help sabotage the drums?” I asked incredulously. Maybe he was in on it, too.
“No.” She shook her head. “I asked him if he wanted to hang out. He said yes and got in my car. I…I told him I had to run back inside for something. And that’s when I did it. He didn’t know.”
I wasn’t sure I believed her, but that version of events at least made some sense.
It still didn’t get her off the hook, though, for Drew’s death. If anything, it actually put her at my house when the murder took place, since she would have had to bring Thor back at some point.
“How long were you with Thor?” I asked. “A few hours? When did you bring him back?”
Her cheeks turned pink and she shifted her gaze so she was staring at the sidewalk. “It was longer than a few hours.”
“Doesn’t that put you at the bungalow?” I asked, my pulse quickening. Because now I knew how she’d gotten in. She wasn’t getting herself out of a hole by telling us this; she was digging a deeper one.
“No.” She took a deep breath. “He spent the night here. And Grandma can vouch for me.”
THIRTY ONE
“You know what this means, right?”
We were back in Gunnar’s truck and he was slowly driving away from Mabel Wilson’s house.
He didn’t say anything.
“It means she didn’t do it,” I continued.
“We don’t know that,” Gunnar muttered.
I glared at him, even though he was staring straight ahead at the road.
“She has an alibi. She was with Thor. Here at her grandmother’s.”
I shook my head as I remembered Mabel’s reaction when I’d asked her about it. She’d come back to the door, a slim notebook in her hand that held all of her song selections. When she tried to hand it to me, I’d blurted out my question instead.
“Did your granddaughter have a friend spend the night earlier this week? Tuesday?”
Mabel blinked behind her thick glasses. “What does this have to do with me singing?”
“It doesn’t. Did she?”
Mabel’s powdery forehead wrinkled. “Well, let’s see. Tuesday was the day I went into the eye doctor, right?” She looked to Zoe for confirmation, who gave a faint nod. “And then you picked up burgers for lunch. At the Wicked Wich.” Her mouth dipped into a frown. “Those burgers aren’t the same with that young man gone…”
“That was Monday,” Zoe told her. “Tuesday you had the eye appointment but we had lunch here. We were at the church that night, remember? And the band was practicing?”
“Oh, yes.” But Mabel still looked confused. “I think I remember that.”
“That night,” I said, trying to get her to the time and day I cared about. “The night you were at the church. Did Zoe have someone over?”
Her expression brightened. “Why, yes, I do believe she did. That nice young man. Thorp? Was that his last name?”
“Thor?” I suggested.
She gave me a disapproving look. “That’s what I said.”
“Right,” I said. “So he was here?”
Mabel hesitated before she offered a nod. “He brought burritos for a snack, but I was already heading to bed. Or enchiladas. I can never remember which is which. They were a little too spicy for me.”
Since there wasn’t a Mexican food restaurant in town, he must have brought them from Winslow or somewhere else. But with what car? Connor had picked him and Luke up at the airport.
Zoe must have known what I was thinking because she said. “We picked them up at El Amigo.”
I just nodded, feeling my hopes deflate.
Gunnar and I had left shortly after.
If Mabel could vouch for Zoe’s whereabouts on Tuesday night and into Wednesday morning, she couldn’t have been the one responsible for Drew’s death. This still left me with two other potential suspects, but they were people I didn’t want to have to consider.
Because they were Connor and Luke.
I blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath, refocusing on where I was at…and what I should do next.
Gunnar glanced at me before returning his attention to the road.
I folded my hands and stared down at them. “I don’t know what to do.”
He reached over with his hand and gently squeezed my leg before finding my hands and covering them with his own. “We’ll figure it out.”
“The only other people who look suspicious right now are Connor and Luke.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “We’ll figure it all out,” he repeated. “Don’t you worry.”
But that was the problem. I was worried because I knew we would eventually figure out who was responsible for Drew’s death. And I was terrified it would point to my future son-in-law or my own son.
We were back at the house five minutes later. I could smell the lasagna as I climbed the porch steps, along with what I thought might be garlic bread. My stomach grumbled despite the fact that it was tied up in knots.
A crowd of people was gathered around the dinner table but no one was eating. There were remnants of a meal, though—a couple of wrinkled napkins, and glasses of wine half-full—so it wa
s obvious dinner had been consumed at some point while Gunnar and I were gone. But now there was a deck of cards in the middle of the table, along with a small pile of coins. Luke was the dealer and by the look of things, they were playing blackjack.
Everyone at the table stopped and looked at us when we walked in.
Connor spoke first. “We didn’t know whether or not to wait, but Grandma was getting hungry…”
I held up a hand. “It’s fine. I’m glad you went ahead.”
Luke was holding a stack of cards in his hands, ready to dole them out. “Where did you guys go?”
His tone was casual but I immediately stiffened. “Oh, just an errand. It took a little longer than we thought.” I forced a smile. “Um, I’m going to go grab some food. Anyone need anything?” But I was already walking away, heading toward the kitchen with Gunnar trailing behind me.
The kitchen was a mess. A stack of plates in the sink, mixing bowls and baking sheets lined up on the counter, and a half-full pan of lasagna parked on the kitchen table. None of this bothered me. In fact, I was thrilled. Clean up would probably take at least an hour, which meant I could focus solely on that.
And not which one of my sons might have killed Drew Solomon.
Gunnar must have been hungry, because he immediately found a clean plate and loaded it with a generous helping of lasagna. There were a few pieces of garlic bread nestled in a basket and he grabbed one of those, too.
He picked up another piece and held it out to me. “You should eat something.”
I shook my head. “I’m going to do dishes.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded, and he sighed and bit off a hunk.
I surveyed the kitchen one more time, trying to decide where to start.
But I didn’t get far.
Because Laura appeared in the kitchen, her hands parked on her hips and a deep frown etched on her face.
“Where were you?” she demanded.
“Out running an errand.”
“What errand?”
I hesitated, trying to think of what I could tell her that might sound plausible.
“We stopped in to see Mabel,” I said quickly.
