Once Upon a Murder

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Once Upon a Murder Page 6

by Kodi Heart


  Glancing at Grant, Robyn finally spoke directly to him. “Can you stay on the couch? Is there anything waiting for you at home? Plus, it's rather late to be out driving, especially with a killer on the loose.” Robyn wiggled her eyebrows at her inappropriate jokes. I could always count on her for something humorous, even in the tensest of moments.

  Then Grant looked at me, as if it mattered what I thought. He furrowed his brow and watched me. “You guys are making jokes about the murder?”

  “Psht. You know you’re not upset with us. That’s what we do. We laugh at funerals and cry at weddings.” Robyn stood, offering me her hand as we both stood and looked down at Grant with his scowl and deep eyes.

  Would he stay the night? He’d probably stay for Robyn. Of course, no matter what he chose to do, I’d read more into it then what there would be.

  “No more jokes about the murder, you two. We’re in a lot of trouble as it is.” He looked at us again and then nodded, glancing once more at Robyn. “I'll take the couch. I should probably call this in. Paul Davis won’t take kindly to things being messed with.” He turned away, grabbing his phone and notepad.

  The man had turned on his cop side and we wouldn’t see him for a little while.

  Robyn led the way upstairs. I couldn’t stop thinking of seeing my aunts the next day, or I guess, that day. I had found my ex’s dead body and my cat was stuck at the house in the rain. What else would happen to top off my weekend?

  I had to get through brunch and then Robyn and I could figure out what was going on. Brunch or any other activities with my aunts had been nonexistent in quite a while, not since David had told me to back off on contacting family. When I’d written them after David and I had broken up, it had been my feeble attempt at reconciling with the only family I had left. Robyn would make sure I went through with it.

  Sometimes I hated her for always making me do what I was supposed to. Other times, I was so mad at her for being the one thing standing in the way of me having Grant, I wanted to walk away. But never seriously. She wasn’t just Grant’s sister... she was more like family to me than anyone else.

  I’d go to the brunch, if only to avoid a nagging from Robyn.

  Heading up the stairs to Robyn’s spare room, I brushed my teeth and got into my extra pajamas I left there for emergencies.

  In bed, I stared up at the shadowed ceiling. An image of Grant’s broad shoulders as he slept on Robyn’s couch hung over me, adding to my stress of finding David and being a suspect in a murder. Nothing was going to allow me to sleep that night. Guilt that I’d added to the pressures of his job confounded me.

  Even though we’d never have a chance, I didn’t want him to associate me with murder and problems. I already had the bad taste of our “secret” breakup between us.

  Now I had the history of a murdered boyfriend, too.

  The pattering of rain on the window cajoled me to sleep.

  Chapter 8

  I must've slept, because I opened my eyes to light streaming through the windows and Robyn's spare room pillow bunched under my arm on the bed next to me. She’d moved a futon into the spare room for me once she’d built that house and every time I stayed, it was assumed I’d use my room.

  From the way Grant had said he’d take the couch the night before, I wondered if maybe he’d slept in my room when I wasn’t there. That thought made me a little uncomfortable as I pulled out some extra clothes to change into after my shower.

  Pans clanked in the kitchen, mixing with the soft sounds of Grant and Robyn’s voices as they talked.

  Grant’s slow timbre gave me a nudge. I wasn’t going downstairs without a shower. I had to wash my hair before going down and seeing him in the bright light of the day.

  Grateful for the heavy water pressure, I stuck my hair under the shower head, trying to get the soap from my thick hair. I could close my eyes and enjoy the hot water and pretend that nothing had happened. I was having a normal weekend. The only thing that would be out of sorts would be my lunch with my aunts.

  A sudden scream penetrated the roar of the water as it thundered on my dark brown curls. I jumped out of the stall, wrapping a towel tightly around me and ignoring the dripping water from my legs.

  Running to the top of the stairs, I shouted down into the living room. “What? Are you okay? What happened?” My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t be sure I wasn’t having a heart attack with sharp pains in my upper stomach area and my arms. What if the murderer had followed me there?

  What if the killer was slaughtering Robyn and Grant?

  Robyn moved to see me better while Grant angled his head with an eyebrow arched. “Olivia,” Robyn’s mouth fell half open. “You’re dripping water on my floor.” She stared at me.

  I shifted in the small puddle of water. I glanced at Grant and then at Robyn. After an uncomfortable pause, I spun on my heel.

  Dashing back into the shower, I closed my eyes and leaned my hot face under the water. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I needed more harassment from Robyn like I needed more hot water. She would completely tease me as soon as I got back downstairs.

  I finished my shower and pulled on some clothing. Brushing my hair, I pulled it back into a tight braid like my mom used to plait for me. I would need to act like nothing had happened. Folding up my towel, I hung it up on the towel rack and looked around the bedroom for anything else I could do to procrastinate going back downstairs.

  Finally, I gave in and found myself downstairs. I studied Robyn and Grant. “What happened? Are you okay?” I slid onto a stool and waited for them to explain the scream.

  Robyn leaned on the counter and studied me. “Shoot. I can’t believe you came out dressed like that. What’d you think, that I got shot or something?” She grinned and reached across the counter to push on my shoulder. “Grant’s here. He’s not going to let me get killed. Not right now.”

  Grant grunted beside her as he flipped a pancake and turned back to the sink. His rear had been made for the jeans he wore and I wanted to glower at him, but he probably had eyes in the back of his head.

  Robyn ignored my expression and continued. “That scene you described was in Tesha’s last thriller, remember? We critiqued it. Kami and Craig argued with her over the dramatic effects of either red heels or blue heels, remember? You said the red would be better, but then you gave in and agreed that blue would be effective, too. I hated both ideas.”

  I leaned my head back and looked up at the ceiling, my favorite way to remember things. I moaned. “That's right. Was she trying to prove something with this? She wouldn’t do it to be spiteful... I mean toward me. She’d probably be doing it to protect me. I can't believe it. Tesha isn’t a violent person.” And she wasn't.

  Tesha was like my grandmother and Lucille Ball wrapped into one little person. She had red-dyed hair, and she wore the kinkiest pink-orange lipstick ever. Usually a fleck or two would be on her front teeth. You couldn't say anything or even mention it, because you wouldn’t want to hurt her.

  I shuddered. “She writes the scariest stuff. Did you read her last thriller? The reviewer said it was more twisted than Stephen King with more complex thinking skills. I don’t know about you, but even if I could think that way, I don’t know how she can. She knits for crying out loud.”

  Grant flipped another pancake onto a plate and then flipped one onto a plate in front of me. He slid the plate closer to me and then handed me a fork, all without avoiding my eyes.

  Slices of bacon, fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese on top, and pats of butter sat before me on one of Robyn’s bright red plates.

  Grant handed me a glass of milk next and our fingers brushed for an instant. I shot my gaze to his and our eyes locked.

  Robyn broke through our silent bubble of awareness. “I don’t want it to be her, you guys. But if it’s not her, then who is it? What would we do? What if it is her? Would we tell the cops?”

  I didn’t know either, about any of it. The whole situatio
n was so confusing. I didn’t want it to be Tesha, but I wanted the murderer to be Robyn and I even less. “We need to go talk to her about it. If we can clear her, then there’s no reason to tell the police about the book scene.”

  “Wait, what? Everything is important. All the clues are. You can’t just pick and choose what you share with them.” Grant snorted, throwing his hand in the air while walking toward a stool with a plate in hand.

  “You’re picking and choosing what to report.” I shot back. He didn’t need to act holier than thou and I was getting more than a little hurt that he couldn’t just look me in the eye without all kinds of tension between us.

  He tightened his jaw, the side muscle ticking as he moved it. And, still he didn’t look at me. “Touché. I’ll make sure and remedy that right away.”

  I opened my mouth to take it back, but how could I? What would I say? I wasn’t wrong. He could say we couldn’t pick things to share and then he did the exact thing he admonished us to avoid.

  Robyn shook her head and grabbed her own plate, taking a seat on my left. “Regardless, it’d be nice to know for sure if she’d done it or not.”

  Grant nodded, glancing past me to focus on Robyn. “What do you girls have to do this morning?” Thick lashes grazed his cheeks as he looked down at his plate again.

  Touching him shouldn’t affect me the way it was. I should be able to make up my mind that we were impossible and it should be enough. But the more I thought about it, the more attainable I wanted him to be.

  While I wanted to ask him what was going on, I didn’t need to. I knew what was going on. We had tried closing it, but I had kind of left it open. When we had last talked about the possibility of he and I, I’d said, that if I ever got the guts to ask Robyn and if she said, yes...

  That apparently left it in my hands. I wanted to yell at myself for doing something so stupid.

  Instead, I answered his question he’d tossed toward Robyn. “We have a brunch to go to with my aunts.”

  “We could go after the resort. Did you want to go, too? I can text Tesha and let her know we’ll stop by.” If Robyn and I asked, things would be even more casual. Tesha wouldn’t be on edge, thinking we knew anything. If Tesha hadn’t killed David, then it would just be a casual visit to see how she was doing.

  Either way, we needed to do something.

  I looked down at my plate and puckered my list. “I’m up for a visit. If we’re going to the brunch, why are we eating?”

  “Well, if there’s a problem, I’ll just take your plate. You don’t have to eat.” She reached for my plate, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.

  I wrapped my arms around my plate and fake hissed at her. “Never mind. I’m good.” I hunched over my deliciously piled dish and shoveled a bite in. I would get heavier and I didn’t care. I didn’t focus on what I looked like. Not when it mattered more what my books said than how I looked.

  Plus, my warning shouldn’t matter. The brunch wasn’t for a couple hours. I would be starving by then. The pancakes sitting in front of me demanded that I eat them. My curves needed to be fed. Let's be honest, these size fourteen jeans were not gonna keep themselves up.

  “We need to practice. We can’t expect the brunch to have everything we want.” Robyn winked at me. “If we don’t eat with Grant, he’ll get all depressed. We gotta watch his back.” She leaned across, passing Grant some syrup. “I'm always thinking of you big brother. We’ll take one for the team.”

  She teased about sacrificing for Grant and me. There was only one way I wanted her to take one for the team for us. I couldn’t ask her. I could never ask her.

  And Grant knew it.

  ~~~

  Robyn and I waited to be seated on the Seventh Floor of the Coeur d’Alene Resort. The snooty hostess gave us the once over as she motioned for us to follow her. She led the way through multiple tables, set with gilded plates and linen napkins. The quiet hum of people talking and eating had a subdued heaviness to it as only those that are paying a lot of money for a meal can expect.

  We took the seats she indicated and handed us small menus to consider for drinks, then she walked away. We would be waiting for my aunts to arrive.

  I leaned across to Robyn and murmured, “Can you believe this place?” I hadn’t been there in forever, but the longer I sat there, the stronger the memory of why I didn’t like going. I was more of a café person where you were encouraged to eat with your fingers and slurp your drinks.

  “Your aunts are here.” Robyn nodded toward the room behind me.

  I half-turned and blanched at my aunts’ appearance. They weren’t people you would miss easily.

  Aunt Cari usually had bright color dyed hair, which was short and spiky and shaved on the left in a side cut. She liked to think of herself as a contemporary aunt.

  Aunt Kathy on the other hand was as classic as they came. She kept her hair dolled in soft curls and applied her makeup carefully every day. She wore even more makeup when she ran.

  In their fifties, they were extremely in shape and even put my random exercises down in shame. They’d both finished the Ironman in town the last three years.

  Robyn tapped my plate with her butter knife. “There they are. Remember, you’re family. You haven't done anything wrong. You were under David's control. And he's gone now. Just breathe. You’re fine.” Robyn took a deep breath, looking more nervous than she should. My aunts were the warmest, kindest people I’d ever met.

  Robyn knew that.

  But how could she understand what I’d gone through with David? No one understood but me.

  I had cut everyone off without any explanation. I had ignored their emails, refused to take their calls, and even ignored their texts. If I had it to do over again, I would never pass up the chance to talk to them. Knowing the things I knew about David now, I would have broken up with him in minutes, if I’d known then.

  Missing out my family had become the biggest regret of my life. I couldn’t help that my pride had taken a huge hit.

  The two women walked past all the people interspersed throughout the restaurant and waved at us, their smiles large and warm. They were the most humble of people and I would do well to work on being more like them.

  As they got closer, my insides warmed and even the stress of the death at my place faded a bit. I was grateful Robyn had talked me into doing a brunch with them. Aunt Cari’s nose ring sparkled with a turquoise colored rock. A collection of thin gold chains graced her neck and she made the bangle bracelets look elegant as she walked stately toward us. Only my Aunt Cari could do that.

  Aunt Kathy walked behind her, with the regality of Princess Diana. If you could bottle that royal essence and spray it like a perfume, you’d never run out of money. If it was possible, I guarantee my Aunt Kathy would have the corner on the market.

  I stood, my knees shaking.

  When they reached me, they did nothing but wrap their arms around me. I had forgotten how much I missed them. Forgot how much I needed them.

  “Mylanta. I am so excited to see you again, Olivia. You look great. I wish I had your curves. Those are from your mother. I think it's important to note your dad did not add anything in the looks department. You look just like your mother. She’s just like her mother, don’t you agree, Kathy? Oh, well, you don’t want to hear about it. Did you...” Aunt Cari’s diatribe was cut off by Aunt Kathy.

  She rested her fingers on my forearm as we sat back down in our seats. “I was thinking about you all night last night. There was a murder reported out by your place. Did you hear? Did you see the cops or anything? I was so nervous. I just... you just don't hear things happening like that out there. Murder in Twin Lakes.” She shook her head and sipped her water, glancing around the room, worry in the dark flecks of her pupils.

  The topic was serious, but her worry made me feel better. I nodded, unable to wipe the happy smile from my face.

  We waited for our waitress to come and give us the instructions for the brunch as well as tak
e our drink order.

  Once our orders were in, we waited another moment to chat. I answered Aunt Kathy’s questions. I lent a softer tone to my answer, though. I didn’t want her to worry more than was warranted – how much that was, I wasn’t sure. “It was at my house, actually. David was the... he was the... well, he died.” I didn't know how much I could tell them, but they needed to hear the truth from me. I didn’t need to start our relationship again with omissions. If they didn't hear something so big from me, they would wonder why.

  Both women gasped in unison, and their similarities became glaringly obvious as they stared at me with the same shocked expression on their faces.

  Their questions and replies came in a torrent and I can’t say exactly who said what.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why didn’t they say that on the news?”

  “Why didn’t you call us?”

  “Was he alive when you found him?”

  “That David. He got what was coming to him.”

  “You need a real man.”

  “A man that knows how to wrap you up and make you sing.” The last was from Aunt Cari. She’d never minced words and she’d pressed her lips together firmly with a tight nod after her last statement.

  Robyn giggled, and tapped the table in front of me. “I've been telling her that for years. The only guy that's consistently in her life is Grant.” She eyed me and then glanced at the aunts.

  Aunt Kathy leaned forward, interest sparking her eyes. “Grant? I saw him a few years back, is he still filling out those jeans like a delicious model from the strip club in Vegas?” She snapped her fingers at Aunt Cari. “Which one am I thinking of Cari? We went there last spring.” Aunt Kathy bent her elbow and placed a finger beside carefully painted lips. “So many... just gorgeous.”

  Nodding conspiratorially, Aunt Cari narrowed her eyes. “Yes, Thunder from Down Under. I’m not sure if that’s the actual name, but wow. They earned their title, I’ll tell you what. Yes, Grant looks like he belongs on the billboard.” She looked at Robyn who was barely able to hold in her laughter and Aunt Cari pointed toward Robyn. “Does he model, dear? You might suggest that to him.”

 

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