Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “What’s wrong with Harry?” I asked.

  “Huh?” Chaz sat the carrier down then put on his coat.

  “Harry,” I said, pointing to the carrier. “I seem to remember a frantic call about how he was dying. What’s wrong with him?”

  “Urinary tract infection,” Chaz said, finally shaking off his daze. “He has some medicine to take and will be right as rain in no time.”

  I rose from my seat as Chaz picked up the cat carrier. I looked over at the reception desk, and sure enough, that damned Alyssa was already bending the good doctor’s ear. I saw his eyes widen before he turned his light blue gaze on me. I couldn’t help but stiffen as I waited for a look of disbelief to cross his features. Instead, he sent a warm smile my way.

  What the fuck was that about?”

  After I had dropped off Chaz and Harry, I drove straight home, parked my car, and turned it off. I’d had a rough few days and a long work day ahead of me the following morning, if the clients didn’t cancel their appointments when word got around that I was questioned by the police for Georgia’s murder. Fuck, I hoped not. I knew in my heart that Georgia did not mean what she said about destroying my business, so I hoped like hell that my salon didn’t turn out to be another casualty.

  “You doing okay, partner?”

  I looked up from the Beaumont case file I’d been studying intently and gave Adrian a questioning look. “Yeah, why?”

  Adrian narrowed his eyes and raked them over my face and upper body, grinning when he took in my clenched fists. Fine, I wasn’t “okay,” and I wouldn’t be until after I got the shit with Josh straight in my head. He wanted me. I wanted him. Why weren’t we seeing where this would go? Damn, I must’ve been clenching my jaw just as tightly as my fists because it began to ache and I felt a nasty headache brewing.

  “Uh huh.” Adrian reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen and tossed it to me. “You want to tell me what’s put that scowl on your face? And don’t bother telling me it’s the case either,” he rushed to amend, taking away the avenue I had planned to use.

  I swallowed two tablets of ibuprofen with coffee that was cold as an evil witch’s heart. Yes, the Beaumont case bugged the hell out of me, but my condition had to do with one frustratingly beautiful and complicated man. I felt the way he responded to me the night before when we kissed. I saw all the signs of jealousy in his body language when he saw me with Kyle. I saw him stiffen out of the corner of my eye when Kyle reached over and touched my arm. Hell, I stiffened too. What the hell was Kyle doing? It would’ve been awkward without Josh being there, but it was so much worse with him watching.

  I wasn’t sure where Kyle had been heading with his touching and peering into my eyes bit. I suspected he was horny and looking to scratch an easy itch. That’s what we used to be to one another after our breakup. The first time it had been awkward, but the few times after were very similar to any hookup. We got our fuck on then went our separate ways. I didn’t want that with him anymore, and I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject—not that I would have in his reception area with Alyssa watching us. Kyle had once said she was the biggest gossip in town and I didn’t want to have people discussing my personal life at The Brew or Edson and Emma’s Diner.

  So, I accidentally let go of Buddy’s leash, and he didn’t let me down. He headed right for the one person I wanted to know better. I couldn’t resist taunting Josh a little when I retrieved my dog and was completely ecstatic when he took the bait. I listened to his spiel about how it wasn’t the day, and I wasn’t the man he’d be willing to fight over. Blah. Blah. Blah. Josh’s eyes told me differently so I called him on his bullshit and planted a fierce kiss on him. I had no intention of telling Adrian about my run-in with Josh the previous night.

  Of course, when I looked back up at Adrian he wore a knowing smirk on his face. He knew the real source of my irritation. Luckily, he was a great friend and let it go. “What are you thinking?” he asked and then quickly added, “about the case.”

  “Josh isn’t the killer. He has an alibi, and the motive was pretty thin,” I told Adrian, trying to ignore the pinch in my heart when I thought about Josh’s overnight guest. “There was no sign of forced entry or that the lock had been tampered with, so the perpetrator had a key or she let them in.”

  “Why would she let someone in and then get in the bathtub with a glass of wine and a romance novel?” Adrian asked. “That, plus the time of death, implies intimacy. My wife loves her friends, but she wouldn’t invite them over after midnight then climb into a bathtub. That leaves us with someone entering the premises with a key given to them by Georgia or someone else who had access to them.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck while I listened to Adrian’s thoughts that mirrored my own. “I’ve heard that Georgia wasn’t a well-loved woman in the community, but that doesn’t usually give someone a motive to kill. The two likeliest suspects are each other’s alibis.”

  “Rocky and Nadine,” Adrian said, nodding his head.

  “Yep, unless there’s an heir to her estate that was eager for their inheritance,” I added. “That crime scene was too clean. We won’t get reports back from the state lab in Columbus for weeks, or even months, but I’m not expecting any ‘smoking gun’ evidence when we lay eyes on them.”

  Adrian licked his bottom lip as he processed what I said. “Are you thinking someone hired it done?”

  My theory sounded like some far-fetched TV drama, but in a way, it was the only thing that made sense to me. “Let’s have a chat with her housekeeper to see just how many people had keys to that home and make sure they’re all accounted for.”

  “That would be Mrs. Honeycutt,” Adrian said as he rose to his feet and removed his jacket from the back of his chair. “She was my Sunday school teacher when I was a kid. I’m sure she’s witnessed a lot of things at the Beaumont house over the years. Let’s see what she has to say.”

  Wanda Honeycutt was seventy, but looked much younger, and had worked for Georgia Beaumont for more than two decades. When we arrived at her small ranch home at eleven thirty, she was still dressed in her bathrobe. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, as was the petite nose that rested above trembling lips.

  “Adrian,” she said with a tearful voice. “It’s good to see you.” She turned to me then offered a weak smile. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.” Wanda fell back on her good manners, regardless of how heartbroken she was over the loss of her long-time employer.

  “Gabriel Wyatt,” I said, extending my hand to her. Wanda’s tiny hand trembled in mine when she shook my hand. It was obvious that Wanda was grieving over Georgia’s death and I was grateful that she hadn’t been the one to find her. I was thankful that Josh hadn’t stumbled upon the scene either. He had been heading over to her house early that morning. What if he’d gone around back if Georgia hadn’t answered the front door? I thought Josh had seen his quota of dead bodies and pushed the thought out of my mind to concentrate on the woman in front of me.

  Wanda showed us to her kitchen and insisted on pouring us both a cup of coffee. She took a lid off a cookie jar then placed cookies on a plate before putting it on the table between Adrian and me. Adrian didn’t hesitate to reach in for a cookie, but I held back a minute. I couldn’t so much as think about a chocolate chip cookie, let alone eat one, without thinking about Josh. Adrian nodded for me to take one, but I didn’t. I felt irritation building inside me for acting like a lovesick teenager rather than a grown-ass man. Was I going to ban chocolate chip cookies unless they came from Josh? Hell would freeze over before he baked me another fucking cookie. Fuck it! I grabbed two cookies from the plate and took a big bite out of the first one. They were really good, but not in the same ballpark as Josh’s.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Honeycutt,” Adrian said soothingly. “I know it must have been a terrible shock to you. If you don’t mind, Gabe and I have some questions for you.”

  “Anything I can do
to help you catch the despicable person who hurt Georgia. She was good to…” Mrs. Honeycutt choked up and couldn’t finish her sentence. She wiped the new stream of tears that ran down pale cheeks with a wad of tissues. “Sorry,” she said once she composed herself again. “Ask me anything.”

  I could see Adrian hesitate because he didn’t want to upset Mrs. Honeycutt anymore, but I knew we had to start somewhere or we’d be there all day. “How long did you work for Mrs. Beaumont?” I liked to start all interviews with easy questions that I already knew the answers to for a few reasons. In some cases, I did it to see how honest the person was going to be, but in that case, I just wanted to ease her into the questions.

  “Twenty-five years,” she replied sadly. She looked down at a ring she wore on her right hand and began twisting it around her finger. “Georgia had just given me this ring in honor of all the years I worked for her.” Mrs. Honeycutt extended her hand and showed us a gold band with a small emerald surrounded by diamonds. “It’s my birthstone.”

  “That’s very pretty,” I replied. “You must’ve been very special to Georgia.”

  Mrs. Honeycutt nodded silently for a few moments and then said, “Most people misunderstood her, but of course, she didn’t do anything to change people’s opinion about her. It was almost as if she liked to be disliked if that makes any sense.” It didn’t, but I had learned that people were complex and often didn’t make sense to me.

  “Can you think of anyone who disliked her enough to kill her?” Adrian asked.

  “Besides Rocky and Nadine?” The scorn that dripped off her tongue when she spoke their names was almost comical. “Those two assholes are the only ones who’d want to hurt her. Certainly not Josh Roman!” She pinned Adrian and then me with a hard glare. “Why in the world would you have that sweet boy brought in for questioning? He loved Georgia as much as I did.” Mrs. Honeycutt leaned forward, her complexion changing from pale to pink as ire built inside her. “Do you know that Josh came to her home to do her hair when Georgia was too mortified to step out in public after Rocky’s affair was exposed? Hell, he was the one who convinced her to leave the house with her head held high, and a ‘fuck them’ attitude.”

  Adrian nearly choked on the sip of coffee he’d just taken, and I suspected it was because of Mrs. Honeycutt’s bawdy language. I thought it was hilarious and couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

  “Josh was cleared, Mrs. Honeycutt,” I assured her. “He has an alibi and no motive to hurt her, so that’s why we’re here talking to you today.”

  “Who all has keys to Georgia’s house?” Adrian asked once he was done sputtering and coughing.

  “Just Georgia and I. She had all of the locks changed once she tossed that cheating bastard out of her house.” She shook her head in disgust and then blew out a frustrated breath. “It’s against the Lord’s teachings, but I hate that man.” I assumed she was talking about Rocky and her next words made certain I didn’t have to ask. “Georgia gave Rocky everything she had, and I mean she turned herself inside out for that man. She tried for years to get pregnant and couldn’t; he was so cruel to her about it when he should’ve been loving.” She pounded her tiny fists unexpectedly on the table hard enough to make both Adrian and me jump. “That bastard acted like he was royalty and he needed an heir or some shit. Georgia mentioned other means of having a family, but he wanted no part of it. He didn’t want to adopt someone else’s castoffs, as he called them, and refused to consider a surrogate.”

  I couldn’t help but feel bad for Georgia and wondered if those were things Josh knew about her. He seemed to know her pretty well, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she had told him personal things while he did her hair. It sounded like hair stylists and bartenders had a lot in common. They both had clients that wanted to divulge the personal details of their lives while they looked for something to make them feel better, whether it be a new hairstyle or a stiff drink.

  “Rocky and Georgia have been divorced for about five or six years, right?” Adrian asked.

  “That sounds right,” Mrs. Honeycutt agreed.

  Adrian followed up with, “Was Georgia seeing anyone?”

  Mrs. Honeycutt harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Georgia thought she was damaged goods. He convinced her of that, and she thought no one could ever love her. All she wanted in the whole world was for someone to truly love her.” Her words echoed what Josh spoke on more than one occasion. “I couldn’t understand why she was letting him back in her bed.” She shook her head in disappointment. “She tried to keep it from me, but I’d been around that man for two decades and could pick out his sleazy smell while wearing a blindfold in a room with a hundred men.”

  My heart rate kicked up when I realized what the hell she had said without actually saying it. However, we needed her to say the words, so I asked, “Were Georgia and Rocky seeing one another again?”

  “Seeing?” she asked with a raised brow. “Yeah, I guess you could say they saw parts of each other up in her bedroom. Pecker tracks don’t lie.” They were words I never expected to hear from a woman her age and hoped never to hear again.

  “Did CSU take the bedding from her room?” I asked Adrian.

  “I’ll find out.” He rose from his chair and walked into Mrs. Honeycutt’s living room to call the station.

  “Was there a pattern to Rocky’s visits, Mrs. Honeycutt?” If so, there had to be a witness to it or someone who knew about him sneaking around to see his first wife.

  “He was coming over on Thursdays, which were my days off and his bowling league nights. I would find the evidence of his visits when I made her bed on Friday mornings. I changed bedding each week on Monday and would’ve offered to change the sheets on Fridays, but it was obvious to me that Georgia didn’t want me to know about the development with Rocky. She knew I’d be angry about it. She thought because I was old that I didn’t see what was going on in that house.” Mrs. Honeycutt shook her head sadly. “Georgia deserved so much more than piddly handouts from him.”

  “How long would you say this had been going on between Rocky and Georgia?” I asked.

  “Six months, maybe a little longer,” she replied.

  Adrian returned to the kitchen and gave me a quick nod, letting me know that the bedding was collected for processing. I rose from my chair because we got what we needed from Mrs. Honeycutt.

  “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Honeycutt,” I said, extending my hand to her.

  “Promise me you’ll nail someone’s balls to the wall for what they did to her,” she said, her eyes full of sorrow and misery.

  I knew better than to make promises I couldn’t keep, but that didn’t stop me from saying, “I promise. I’ll make them pay.”

  Adrian and I left her house and climbed into my car. I fired up the Charger and drove to the next logical destination—the mayor’s office. We showed our badges to his secretary, although it probably wasn’t necessary for a town our size. The young blonde woman wound her long hair around her finger as she peered at us nervously.

  “Rocky… uh, I mean Mayor Beaumont, is in Columbus for the state’s annual mayoral convention.” Her worried blue eyes flitted back and forth between Adrian and me. “Can I give him a message or something?”

  “Just tell the mayor we stopped by and would like to schedule a time to meet with him,” I told her. “He can call the station and ask for either Detective Wyatt or Detective Goode, and they’ll transfer his call to one of our cells.”

  “At his convenience,” Adrian added to downplay our visit.

  “Yes, sir. I will do that, sir.” She began writing the message down on a pink pad. “Detective Goode and Wyatt.” She said the words out loud as she wrote them. Once she finished, she made a point to check out my left hand before looking back at my face. “By the way, my name is Rebecca.”

  “Good to know,” I replied politely. “We’ll be on our way so you can get on with your work, Rebecca.”

  “Have a good day now,” Adrian
told her.

  “Well, that’s a letdown,” I told Adrian once we were outside. “I was ready to ask him some tough questions.”

  Adrian had paused before he opened the passenger side door. “Let’s head on back to the station and let the captain know what we learned. Rocky might be a small town mayor, but that’s almost celebrity status around here.”

  “Agreed.”

  On the way back to the station, we passed Curl Up and Dye. There were cars parked on both sides of the street for practically the entire block. I had worried that Josh’s trip to the station for questioning might damage his business, but it looked like it brought out the nosey Nans in spades.

  “Smalltown, USA,” Adrian said after he had a good chuckle. “Speaking of that, is Josh a good kisser?”

  The question came out of the blue and caught me completely off guard. “What?”

  “I heard you laid one on him in the veterinary hospital parking lot,” he replied, not bothering to keep the humor out of his voice. “Hell, people were talking in the diner this morning like you were about to put a ring on it or something.”

  “Fuck me!” That was all I needed. If Josh were skittish before, he’d be doubly so after the rumors of our kiss spread like wildfire all over town.

  “You’re not my type.” Adrian laughed hard at his snappy comeback.

  I looked over at my friend and partner after we arrived back at the station. I wasn’t a kiss and tell kind of guy, which he knew damn well. I didn’t like people knowing my personal business, so it meant that Adrian only asked to get a rise out of me. Instead of taking the bait, I smiled wickedly then said, “He’s a damn good kisser.”