Still Life and Death

by Tracy Gardner

  Savanna squeezed Sydney’s shoulder. “Oh my God.”

  “I tried,” Uncle Max began, his voice shaking now as he glanced at Sydney and then back at Jordan. “I tried to help her. The operator told me how to do CPR, and I recalled a bit from our classes when Ellie was a child. But it didn’t help. There was so much blood. Libby was... I don’t know how long she’d been lying there,” he finished softly, looking down.

  Savanna kneeled beside his chair and hugged him. Her heart ached for him. She hated that he’d had to go through this. Uncle Max had never struck her as frail, but he seemed very small and unnerved right now. “I’m so sorry you were the one to find her. It sounds awful.”

  “There was nothing you could’ve done,” Detective Jordan said, his voice kind. “My evidence tech estimates her time of death was at least a full hour before you discovered her.”

  The small florist office was quiet.

  Sydney broke the silence. “Her poor husband and daughter. Oh, my goodness—Rachel. Oh, this is so awful. Someone’s got to tell Rachel.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Savanna said. “I just talked with her.” She didn’t want to imagine what Rachel and Anthony must be feeling.

  “You just talked to who, Savanna?”

  She looked up at Detective Jordan. “Well, both of them. Libby last night, during my still life class, and Rachel as I was heading home.”

  “They were both here? Did anything seem off to you?” Jordan asked.

  “No, not really. Libby said Anthony was making lasagna, her favorite, and she was excited that Rachel was coming for dinner. Then Rachel stopped by to get something Libby forgot here.” She shrugged. “Who would do something like this?”

  “The daughter didn’t say what it was?”

  “What?”

  “What did Libby forget?”

  “Oh. I have no idea. Rachel must’ve been on her way to her parents’ house. She probably just came from work or school—she was in scrubs.”

  “She’s in nursing school,” Sydney offered. “Does she know? I can’t even imagine.”

  “Detective,” Savanna said. “Libby’s husband...your officer took him to the hospital, then? Does he know yet?”

  Nick Jordan nodded. “He knows. He’ll have a chance to see her, if he wants to. She had to be taken in; the county forensic pathologist will do an autopsy. Anderson Memorial will have a doctor and social worker ready to talk to Anthony Kent and his daughter, who we’ve also got coming in.”

  Skylar spoke, a hand on each of her distraught family members’ shoulders. “Are we all set? I think Max should get home and rest.”

  Uncle Max didn’t argue. Savanna glanced up at him from her kneeling position on the floor. His color hadn’t returned, and his eyes were wide. The jovial, lighthearted demeanor her uncle always exuded was absent, and no wonder. He’d arrived at work thinking he’d be tending flowers, and instead had been a firsthand witness to the aftermath of Libby Kent’s murder.

  Detective Jordan opened the office door. “Of course. It might be wise if someone stayed with Mr. Watson for a while, make sure he’s okay.”

  “Absolutely,” Savanna said as she passed the detective.

  “Thank you for your help, sir,” Jordan said to Max.

  Skylar was the last to file out. The detective stopped her briefly. “Listen. Your uncle isn’t going anywhere, is he?”

  Savanna and Sydney looked back, watching the interaction.

  “He lives in Carson. He’s not leaving town, if that’s what you’re asking.” Skylar’s voice was cutting, making it clear to everyone there that she knew exactly what the detective was really saying.

  He said it anyway. “Good. He shouldn’t. Not until we officially eliminate him as a suspect.”

  “Are you serious right now?” Sydney came back over and glared at him. “He finds Libby dead, calls 911, tries to save her, and you think he’s the murderer?”

  Jordan kept his cool. “I didn’t say that. He was first on the scene. It’s just how we have to work this. Shouldn’t take more than a few days to rule you out, sir,” he said, addressing Max.

  “Completely reasonable,” Uncle Max replied. “Girls. Please... I’d like to go home.”

  Outside, Sydney put a hand on Max’s arm. “Really, I don’t know what he’s thinking, saying he has to rule you out. Nick tends to come off as a little cold, but I know he isn’t. I’m sure he knows you had nothing to do with Libby’s death.”

  “I always forget you two dated,” Savanna said. “He can be tough to read, that’s for sure.”

  “It was forever ago. He’s a good guy. Don’t worry,” she said to Max.

  “Of course. Don’t give it a second thought.” Max looked around. “My car is out back—”

  “Nope,” Skylar said. “I’m driving you. Savanna will bring your car. I already checked in with Mom, and I’m going to stay for the afternoon until Freddie gets home.”

  Max looked from Skylar to the other two sisters, starting to protest and then closing his mouth. “Thank you, love.”

  Chapter Three

  On Saturday evening, Savanna looked out over the sand dunes from her porch. She’d poured herself a glass of wine and had come out here to call Sydney. She’d left a message on her voicemail, saying, I hope you’re doing all right.

  Aidan would be here soon to pick her up for their date. She wasn’t in a date kind of mood, but he was exactly who she needed after a day like today.

  She’d gone through the motions of getting ready for their evening while her thoughts continued to spin, trying to make sense of what had happened this morning. It wasn’t like violence never happened in Carson. It hadn’t even been a full year yet since the councilman had been murdered. This was equally heinous. And Libby Kent was one of the nicest people she’d known. How could someone have shot and killed her? Why? If they’d wanted money from the cash register, she’d have given it to them. She couldn’t imagine Carson without Libby. She hated thinking of what the woman’s husband and daughter must be feeling right now.

  A few hundred yards away, Fonzie bounded up and down the deserted beach, pouncing at the waves rolling in. Lake Michigan was choppy tonight, scattered whitecaps decorating the blue water with the wind picking up. Her vast lake was an ocean without the salt.

  Dr. Aidan Gallager appeared at the railing on her deck, looking like something she’d conjured from a fairytale—bouquet of flowers in hand, he was strikingly handsome in a slim-fit navy blue button-down and dark straight-legged denim. His jawline was clean-shaven, and his close-cropped black hair was just unruly enough to make her want to reach out and touch it. She rose, and he met her halfway, handing her the beautiful pale pink peony bouquet.

  Savanna closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet fragrance of the flowers. “Aidan, thank you. These are so lovely.”

  “So are you.” His deep voice, his clean, spicy scent, his close proximity made her heart thump in her throat. He slid one hand along her forearm, and she stepped in, wrapping her arms around him.

  “I’ve missed you,” she murmured, her lips against his neck.

  “We need to do something about that.”

  She looked up at him. “We really do. More hours in the day, maybe? More days in the week? Can you make that happen?”

  He gazed up. “Hmm. I’ll work on it. What are you doing Wednesday?”

  “Um...probably nothing. Why?” She raised her eyebrows. “What about Mollie?”

  Aidan’s daughter was eight. When he wasn’t at the clinic or hospital, he was with Mollie. His commitment to being a good father made him that much more attractive to Savanna. She viewed Aidan’s family time as his own, though she loved it when he planned things for the three of them. Maybe he was inviting her on some fun outing Wednesday night?

  “Mollie’s social calendar is filling up. She and Grandma Jean now
have a standing date every Wednesday volunteering at the nature center.”

  “Ah. So, what you’re really saying is, you need a little something to occupy your time each week?”

  The right corner of his mouth went up into a smile that began as devilish and finished with the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Hmm. You sound like you might have some ideas.”

  Savanna flushed. “I might.”

  Fonzie joined them suddenly, as if he’d just realized a guest had arrived. The little dog ran in circles around them while Aidan reached down, trying to pat his wiggly, squirmy black-and-white body. Tied around Aidan’s wrist in front of his watch was a thin black-and-yellow braided string bracelet.

  Savanna touched his wrist, turning the bracelet to reveal a tiny bumblebee charm braided into the threads. She looked up at him. “Mollie.” She was growing to love that little girl. After Aidan’s wife died, then-four-year-old Mollie had begun the tradition of choosing a childlike accessory or two for him to wear each day. She’d told her dad, when he’d asked back then, that it was so he wouldn’t forget her when they were apart. Savanna had felt her heart swell when he’d finally explained his quirky rainbow-striped socks and turtle cufflinks to her.

  He nodded. “To match her hair ties today.”

  Savanna opened the front door and ushered her wild dog in, scratching his chin and promising she’d see him soon. “Be good, Fonzie!”

  Over a cozy, candlelit dinner that should’ve been perfect at the new small-plates place in town, Savanna’s thoughts kept returning to the traumatic events this morning. “Aidan, I can’t stop thinking about Libby.”

  He nodded. “I know. It’s awful.”

  “It’s completely crazy. She was fine twelve hours earlier, upbeat and friendly and heading home for dinner with her family.” She paused. “Finn was one of the first responders. Is he doing okay? I know my uncle was really shaken up. So was Sydney—she and Libby were close.”

  “I saw my brother for a few minutes after work. He seemed all right. He’s unfortunately probably seen worse. I’m sure your uncle is upset, stumbling onto that scene. How are you handling it?” His brow wrinkled in concern.

  “I’m fine. I’m worried about Libby’s family. I think her husband and daughter were all she had, at least in the area.”

  “It’s going to be hard for them,” he agreed. “Nothing I said really helped calm her daughter down.”

  “You saw them?” She recalled Nick Jordan’s words. “Oh, Aidan. Were you the one who had to tell Rachel?”

  He nodded. “It was me. I was working the ER when Finn brought Libby in. The social worker and I had to sit down with them.”

  “That must’ve been so hard.” She squeezed his hand.

  “Yeah. You never get used to those conversations. Libby’s husband held it together until their daughter got there. I hope they’ve got family somewhere, someone to lean on.”

  “Did you...” She couldn’t think of a nice way to phrase what she wanted to ask.

  He frowned at her, looking curious.

  “Did you have to...see Libby?”

  “No. She was pronounced dead at the scene. I heard it was a gunshot wound.”

  “Yes, Detective Jordan said she was probably shot using a silencer, which must be why no one heard anything.”

  “Do you or your uncle have any idea who’d want to do something like this? Maybe Sydney has some thoughts?”

  Savanna shook her head. “No. Not at all. Libby was kind to everyone. She’s had that florist shop ever since I was a kid, or maybe longer. I remember Miss Priscilla always had Libby supply their recital flowers every spring.” She shook her head. “We used her last June for the art festival. She was so great; she’d never take any money for the flowers I use in my classroom when we work on still life paintings. I don’t understand how this could’ve happened. Nothing about it makes sense.”

  “Well, I’m sure the police will get to the bottom of it. It’s a small town. Someone has to have seen or heard something.”

  After dinner, they strolled over to the Carson Theatre. Main Street was lined with overflowing spring flower boxes in front of the shops, and the trees were adorned with tiny, warm white fairy lights. Soft music drifted through the air from the weekly acoustic concerts on the lawn of Carson Park. Savanna genuinely loved this town. But she couldn’t keep a chill from crawling up her spine as she thought of Libby lying dead in her beloved greenhouse this morning. She hoped Aidan was right and Detective Jordan was able to catch the killer quickly.

  They got in line at the Carson Theatre’s outdoor box office window under the lighted red-and-white marquee. Savanna always looked forward to an evening here. She’d attended almost weekly since the grand opening last winter, sometimes seeing the same movie twice. Carson hadn’t had its own theater in decades, until Jack Carson’s pet project had finally become a reality. He’d created an inviting venue with two large screens; heated, reclining seats; and bottomless popcorn. The interior of the space was lush and beautiful, with deep-red carpeting, elegant chandeliers, and the Century of Cinema mural Jack had commissioned Savanna to paint, a tribute to film through the decades that took up an entire wall, with references from Hitchcock to Harry Potter to Captain Marvel.

  “Wait,” Savanna said as they turned to walk into the theater. Something had caught her eye. “Isn’t that Anthony Kent’s car?” She pointed to the baby-blue Ford Flex parked in front of Skylar’s law office, next to the building that held Libby’s Blooms. All the businesses at that end of Main Street were closed at this time of night, nearly nine-thirty.

  Aidan shrugged. “Is it?”

  “I’m sure it is. Nobody has that color Flex around here but him. I wonder if it’s still there from this morning.”

  “Today was probably the worst day of his life. I doubt he’d make coming back to get his car a priority, right?”

  Something nagged at her, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Right, of course.”

  They were seated in the middle of the last row in the theater to watch the new summer superhero film, hands linked on the armrest between the seats, when Savanna heard a familiar voice.

  “Oh my goodness! Well, how are you, Ms. Shepherd? And Dr. Gallager! I thought that was you.” Tricia Williams, one of the teachers Savanna worked with, hurried down their row, pulling her daughter along behind her. Tricia’s trademark blond pixie-shag had been teased higher for her night out, and her burgundy lipstick was perfect, as always. Her daughter kept her head tilted downward, brown hair falling forward like a curtain.

  Aidan greeted them, and Savanna instinctively unlinked her fingers from his.

  “Hello! Hi, Cassandra.” She smiled widely up at Tricia and then at her daughter. Cassandra was in her fourth grade class. “We’re so excited for the movie. Aren’t you?”

  Tricia replied for her daughter. “We are too! I almost didn’t see you—it’s so dark in here. But I thought, could that be our sweet Ms. Shepherd and Dr. Gallager? We just had to run up here to see two of our favorite people. Right, Cassandra?”

  The girl nodded. Like a lot of children running into a teacher away from school, she seemed suddenly shy. Teachers were out of context out in the community; Savanna remembered the feeling. It could be a little disconcerting. Cassandra stuck a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

  The lights went down even lower as the previews began. Tricia’s phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down at it.

  “Mom, it’s starting.” Cassandra’s voice was an urgent whisper in the now-quiet theater.

  “It’s only the previews.” Tricia flapped one hand toward her daughter before turning back to face Savanna and Aidan. “So, you two—”

  A man in the next row cleared his throat, making a point of turning around in his seat to stare back at them.

  “Mom!” The girl pulled at Tricia’s sleeve.

&nbs
p; Savanna took a deep breath, trying to quell her rising stress level. The last thing she wanted was to be the focus of Tricia Williams’ scrutiny. And she certainly didn’t need other theatergoers angry over the disruption. Plus, she always looked forward to the previews.

  “All right, all right. We’d better get back to our seats. We’ll chat on Monday!” Tricia followed Cassandra down toward the front. “I’m going now, Randall,” she said to the man in the next row as she passed him.

  Savanna stared wide-eyed at Aidan. Oh my God, she mouthed silently.

  He smiled at her and shrugged, then took her hand again and put his lips close to her ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Six rows in front of them, Tricia Williams was encased in a bubble of dim light as she furiously typed something into her phone. Cassandra leaned over to her, obviously saying something, and the light went out. Good.

  Even so, tension snaked across Savanna’s shoulders and the back of her neck. She did not want to “chat” on Monday with Tricia about her movie date with Aidan. Maybe the woman would forget about it by then. Savanna resolved to steer clear of the teachers’ lounge for a few days.

  When Savanna arrived at her childhood home on Sunday evening, Skylar’s husband Travis was at the grill. Sunday dinners were a longstanding tradition in the Shepherd family, with everyone taking turns at preparing the meal. Today was Skylar’s turn, which meant Travis did the heavy lifting. Savanna stopped to pet the big orange tabby, Pumpkin, who was soaking up the sun in his usual chair outside the kitchen door.

  “Something smells delicious.” She peered over the top of the grill.

  “Skylar’s been wanting kabobs. It’s finally nice out—perfect grilling weather.”

  “They look great!” Assorted chicken-and-steak skewers were loaded with green, red, and orange peppers and red onions. Travis brushed barbecue sauce over them one by one before he turned them over.

  Nolan shot through the kitchen door, holding a frisbee as high as he could over his head. “Grandpa says Fonzie’s here!”