Turned out, there was no getting out of it. And so, at eight o’clock sharp, Brenna strolled into the bar of the Fife and Drum, wearing an olive green, wool jersey sheath by Donna Karan that was sleeveless and gathered at the waist with a flattering V cut neckline.
She accessorized with peep toe, brown leather Alexander McQueen pumps and a matching clutch and had stacked several gold bangles on her right wrist. These were more of her clothes from her bygone days at the art gallery in Boston. Some of the outfits, like this dress, she just wasn’t ready to give to the rummage sale—not yet anyway. Although, she was rethinking the shoes. She hadn’t worn heels much since she’d been in Morse Point, and the arches in her feet were already beginning to whine in protest.
Brenna scanned the dimly lit bar until she saw Tenley. Always beautiful, she looked especially so this evening with her long blond hair up in a twist and a body-clinging, purple slip dress that made her blue eyes a startling shade of violet. She was standing amidst a crowd of younger women, looking ill at ease.
It only took a moment for Brenna to see why. One of the women was leaning over the bar, whispering in Matt Collins’s ear. She was a honey-haired blonde, wearing a red-hot number by Dior that pushed her breasts up and out while flirty ruffles showed off her tan legs.
It looked to Brenna as if Tenley wanted to kick the stool right out from under the girl. She stepped up her pace across the bar.
“Brenna!” Tara greeted her with a hug and an air-kiss. She looped her arm through Brenna’s and dragged her over to the group.
“This is Britney, my maid of honor,” Tara said. She tapped the blonde in scorching red, who looked annoyed at having her moment with Matt interrupted.
Brenna shook her hand and watched as Tenley slid smoothly into the spot Britney had vacated and began to chat with Matt. The young Britney looked miffed to have been supplanted and Brenna had to hide her smile.
“This is Dana,” Tenley continued the introductions, “and her sister Marissa.”
The sisters were a study in contrasts. While Dana was tall and thin, Marissa was short and curvy. Neither one was particularly pretty, as they both had long faces with prominent noses. They didn’t strike Brenna as being happy sorts, although that could be because they both wore basic black cocktail dresses accessorized with deep, disapproving frowns.
“I still don’t see why we had to get together in this godforsaken backwater,” Marissa said. She looked at Brenna with absolutely no repentance. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Brenna said.
“Seriously,” Dana said, looking at Tara. “You’re really going to live here?”
“Yes,” Tara said. “I think it’s going to be lovely.”
“I think it’s going to be hell on earth,” Marissa said. “There’s no shopping, no theaters, no clubs. You’re going to be bored out of your mind.”
“Excuse me, I think I’ll get a glass of wine,” Brenna said before she could get dragged into the debate.
She left Tara and the grumpy sisters and squeezed in next to Tenley at the bar. Matt immediately poured her a glass of pinot grigio and she smiled her thanks.
“This is going to be a long night,” she said.
“And how,” Tenley agreed, with a pointed glare at Britney, who had moved down the bar to signal Matt for a refill.
“I envy Tara,” Tenley said.
“Because she’s getting married?” Brenna asked, taking a sip of her dry white wine.
“No, because she’s marrying the man she wants and her parents are letting her.”
Brenna watched her watching Matt. “You’ve never gotten over him, have you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me,” Brenna said. She gave her friend a reassuring squeeze. Tenley had dated Matt in high school. Her parents had forced them apart and Brenna knew her friend still suffered for it.
“There’s my girl!” A shout caused them to turn around.
Jake Haywood crossed the room and swooped Tara up into a big hug. She giggled as he spun her around, and Brenna couldn’t help but notice that when they looked at each other the rest of the world disappeared.
Beside Jake was his best friend, Clue Parker. Clue was the sort of guy who made the parents of pretty daughters lie awake at night worrying. He was recklessly handsome, with dark brown hair that fell over his forehead and a set of dimples bracketing his wolfish grin that were deep enough to hide spare change.
Even being a fairly new resident, Brenna knew Clue’s reputation as a womanizer. She also knew that he and Jake had been friends since they were kids. Jake being the one who kept Clue from making too many bad decisions, and Clue being the one who kept Jake from making too many good ones. Like left and right, one was seldom found without the other, and she wondered how Clue was taking his best friend’s upcoming wedding.
It didn’t take long to find out. When Jake wasn’t looking, Clue sent Tara a look of such malevolence that Brenna gasped. She looked at Tenley to see if she saw it, too, but she was busy keeping an eye on Britney and Matt. Tara was looking at Jake, and completely oblivious to anyone else, while Dana and Marissa had their heads pressed together, whispering scathing observations about the town no doubt. No one else had seen it.
When Brenna looked back at Clue, the look was gone and instead he was studying her as if he knew she’d seen him. He grinned and then licked his lips with slow deliberation. Brenna didn’t know if he was hitting on her or warning her; either way it made a shiver run down her spine.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Tara was chiding Jake.
“I know but I couldn’t resist seeing you,” he said. “Clue and I are going to the Brass Rail to shoot some pool before he starts work tonight. I want you to be careful and call me if you need a ride.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Tara said. “Daddy hired us a driver.”
“Too bad he can’t drive us out of this podunk town,” Dana said with a sneer.
“Yeah, like, back to civilization,” Marissa agreed.
“With faces like yours, I imagine you need a bigger pond to fish in,” Clue said.
Dana gasped and Marissa huffed, while Britney laughed delightedly. In her flirty red dress, she stepped into Clue’s line of sight, and his gaze raked her from head to toe. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking.
“That’s it. I’m going home,” Dana announced.
“Me, too,” said Marissa.
“Oh, no, don’t,” Tara pleaded. “Clue was just joking, weren’t you, Clue?”
He looked at her as if he had only just begun, but Jake elbowed him hard in the side. The two men stared at each other for a second and then Clue turned back to the girls.
He took each of their hands in one of his and brushed his lips across the back of Dana’s and then Marissa’s.
“Forgive me,” he said. He flashed his dimples. “I am a complete jerk for insulting two such lovely ladies. I just can’t bear the thought that you dislike Morse Point so much that you may not come back and grace us with your beauty once again.”
Dana and Marissa lit up like a pair of candles at the flattery. Britney looked like she might gag, and Brenna really couldn’t blame her. How the two sisters could swallow that shovelful of bull, she couldn’t fathom.
“We’ll leave you girls to your evening,” Jake said, obviously deciding to get while the getting was good. He kissed Tara fiercely on the lips. “Call me tomorrow.”
“I will,” she promised with a sigh.
“I’ll be at the Brass Rail all night,” Clue said, stepping close to Britney. “Come by.”
“I will,” she promised. The innuendo oozing between them was thick enough to serve in a bowl.
“I’m hopping off this train before we make that stop,” Tenley said to Brenna. “That place is a dump.”
Brenna had never been in the Brass Rail, but she had heard it was a biker bar with a reputation for drug trafficking. She couldn’t imagine Tara would want to go there.
&
nbsp; After several drinks at the Fife and Drum, the party of six women took the limo Tara’s father had hired to the Willow House. It was a bar/coffeehouse on the outskirts of Morse Point near the university. Both Tenley and Brenna ordered coffee, while the younger women continued with their appletinis and cosmopolitans.
By unspoken agreement, Tenley and Brenna took their coffee to a secluded table in the back. A live band was playing cover music and couples crowded the floor. Britney had found a quorum of admirers and was now dancing evocatively amidst the slack-jawed males in the center of the dance floor. Dana and Marissa hovered on the fringe of the group as if trying to bask in her reflected glory.
Tara had excused herself to take a call on her cell phone, and judging by the way her face lit up when she saw who it was, Brenna suspected it was Jake.
Both Tenley and Brenna had been asked to dance, but they declined. Tenley because she wasn’t interested and Brenna because her feet were killing her, although she probably would have refused either way. The club scene just wasn’t her bag.
“When did we get so old?” Tenley shouted over the music, as if reading her mind.
“I don’t think we’re old,” Brenna said. “It’s just that we’ve done all this before. Who wants their life to be a rerun?”
“Good point,” Tenley said. And then she giggled and asked, “Are you as tired as I am?”
“Yes,” Brenna said and then she giggled, too. “My God, we are old!”
A tall man wearing an expensive suit approached their table. He carried himself with a distinct sense of purpose and the raw power he exuded was impossible to ignore. Brenna prepared to politely rebuff the man’s advance when recognition struck.
“Dom!” She broke into a grin.
“Ladies.” He leaned down and kissed each of their cheeks. Then he stood back and glowered at Brenna.
“You never returned my call,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I meant to, but after the funeral, well, everything just got away from me.”
“I understand,” he said.
His chocolate brown eyes were warm with empathy, and Brenna wished, not for the first time, that they made her feel the same zip that Nate’s did.
“Join us?” Tenley asked, and Dom pulled out a chair and sat with them.
They had met Dom Cappicola, the son of a mobster, several months ago when they were conducting some amateur sleuthing, trying to clear Nate of a bogus murder charge.
Dom had let his interest in Brenna be known, but with her feelings toward Nate all in a muddle, she didn’t think it was fair to Dom to encourage him. Still, he was attractive and at any other time she might have felt differently, especially since he was trying to turn the Cappicola family business legit.
“How are things in Morse Point since the mayor’s murderer was locked up?” he asked.
“Back to normal,” Tenley said. “Well, as normal as anything is in Morse Point.”
“What brings you up from Bayview?” Brenna asked.
“My nephew,” Dom said with a sigh. He pointed to a gangly youth on the dance floor with Britney. He wore a shiny suit open enough at the throat to display an array of gold chains. He looked like a gangster wannabe. “He’s been having some issues with the law.”
“Oh,” Brenna said. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know more. She knew some members of Dom’s family were less than thrilled with the direction he was taking the family business in since his father’s retirement, and she wondered if the nephew was one of them.
Britney glanced over at their table and her eyes narrowed when she saw Dom. Just like that, she began to work her way toward their table, walking like a super-model on the catwalk. Dom failed to notice her, however, and Brenna had to look down to keep herself from smiling when Britney’s face went from seductive tart to miffed debutante.
Seeing his nephew heading for the door, Dom rose from his seat to follow.
“Looks like I’m off,” he said with a wry grin.
“Good to see you,” Tenley said.
“You, too,” Dom said. He had unintentionally turned his back to Britney, who did not look pleased at being ignored. He leaned close to Brenna and said, “Just so we’re clear, I’m going to ask you officially, may I take you out sometime?”
“Oh,” Brenna said. She knew she sounded stupid, but being totally caught off guard, she didn’t know what else to say. To Dom’s credit, he grinned at her.
“Surprised you, didn’t I?” he asked.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Well?” he asked.
She glanced around them in a blatant stall maneuver. Britney was almost at their table. Tenley was pretending that she wasn’t listening when Brenna knew full well that she was. She felt herself grow warm with embarrassment, which was ridiculous. It was a simple question.
Yes, she had a crush on Nate, but Nate wasn’t asking her out and Dom was and under any other circumstance, she would probably like Dom very much.
“Okay,” she said. “Yes.”
He blinked. She’d surprised him, which made her smile.
“All right then, I’ll be calling.” He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, which was warm and tasted faintly of coffee. He gazed at her for a moment and then said, “In case I neglected to tell you, you look beautiful tonight.”
“Thanks,” Brenna said. Her voice sounded hoarse, which made his smile deepen.
She watched him leave, feeling Tenley’s gaze on the side of her face. When she sensed Tenley was about to speak, she raised her hand and said, “Don’t say a word.”
“Word.” Tenley ignored her with a chortle.
“Who was that?” Britney demanded, arriving at their table.
“Brenna’s boyfriend,” Tenley said.
“Just a friend,” Brenna said.
“For now,” Tenley sang.
Tara and the grumpy sisters joined them, and Tenley said, “Well, ladies, I think it is time to call it a night.”
Britney glanced at her delicate, diamond-encrusted Cartier wristwatch. “But it’s just after midnight.”
“See? We’d better go before we all turn into pumpkins,” Brenna said. She and Tenley rose, giving the girls no choice but to follow.
“Remember, Tara,” Brenna said. “We’re meeting your mother at the shop at nine.”
“I’m never going to make it,” Tara said with a hiccup. She wobbled on her spindly heels, and Brenna could tell she’d had too much to drink.
“Tell you what,” Brenna said, taking her elbow to help her navigate the gravel driveway. “I’ll pick you up on my way in tomorrow to make sure you’re on time.”
“Oh, would you?” Tara asked. “See? I just knew we were going to be the best of friends.”
Brenna didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was only doing it because she didn’t want to face Tara’s mother by herself.
The women piled into the limo in a clumsy heap while Tenley asked the driver to bring them back to the Fife and Drum where she and Brenna had left their cars. The visiting girls all had rooms at the Morse Point Inn, an old Victorian house in the center of town that had been remodeled to accommodate guests. Tara, meanwhile, was renting the Crawford bungalow. Brenna knew this because the Porter twins had mentioned that she lived two houses down from them every day since the day she moved in.
As the driver wound his way back toward the center of town, Dana turned on the stereo inside the limo. Pink burst out of the speakers, singing about getting the party started. Brenna found that ironic since all she wanted to do was take off her shoes and go to bed.
The limo pulled up in front of the Fife and Drum and Brenna gratefully stepped out when the driver held the door open. She took a deep breath of the sweet night air, as if she were a felon being paroled. Tenley followed, looking as relieved as Brenna felt.
Tara was about to step out as well, as her bungalow was easily within walking distance, but Britney looped an arm about her friend’s waist and pulled her back into the car
and slammed the door.
Tenley and Brenna exchanged a glance, and then Britney’s, and Tara’s heads popped up out of the sunroof on the limo looking like a two-headed jack-in-the-box.
“Woo hoo!” Britney yelled. “Driver, to the Brass Rail!”
The man hurried back around the car and got into the driver’s seat.
“Oh, I really think I should call it a night,” Tara said.
“Don’t be such a party pooper!” Britney snapped. “I came all this way to go out with you and the night isn’t even half over.”
Tara bit her lip, obviously trying to decide between common sense and accommodating her friend. The friend won, and Tara nodded in a sleepy, drunken way.
“Brenna, promise to wake me up tomorrow!” she called as she lurched against the roof when the limo began to pull away from the curb.
“I promise!” Brenna called with a wave, relieved that she had escaped when she did.
“I’ll bet you fifty bucks, she regrets that decision tomorrow,” Tenley said.
“And how,” Brenna agreed.
A nudge against her hip roused Brenna from her sleep. She would have ignored it, but given that she’d been sleeping alone for the past few years, it was hard to ignore the presence of another being in her bed.
She opened one eye and found herself nose to muzzle with Hank. He had his head on the pillow beside hers, looking as content as if he’d just corralled a field full of rabbits.
Brenna glanced at the clock. It was seven thirty. She was to meet Tiffany at the shop at nine and if she was going to pick up Tara first, she’d better get moving.
Grateful that she hadn’t had much to drink the night before, Brenna took Hank for a quick jog around their corner of the lake. Then it was a fast shower and into the Jeep for the four and a half mile ride into town.
She drove with her windows down, letting the cool morning air flirt with her hair and sweep across her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
She pulled up in front of Tara’s bungalow, a square light blue house with white trim and a narrow porch. She glanced at the clock on her dashboard. It was quarter to nine. She fervently hoped that Tara was up and moving. She did not relish the idea of trying to hose a drunk girl off in the shower.
Cut to the Corpse Page 4
