When I didn’t respond, she said, “I’m so sorry to have to be the one to break it to you. With as close of friends as you and Drew were, I’m surprised he kept something this big from you.”
“How did you figure it out?” I asked quietly, almost not wanting to know.
“When I went through her apartment, I found some photos of them together.”
“So?”
“So, they’re not the kind of photos you take with your sister-in-law.”
I groaned. “D, I could have done without that visual.”
“I don’t mean they were naughty. They were cutesy selfies. In one, Drew and Valerie were holding hands and looking deeply into each other’s eyes. And there was another where they were kissing. Nothing too gross.”
“And you’re sure what you saw couldn’t be platonic?”
“If you had a husband, would you think it would be okay if I kissed him on the mouth?”
“No.”
“Then there’s your answer. Also, I found a duffel bag with his name on it with a bunch of his stuff in it. It looked like he’d packed a bag and was staying at her place.”
“I see,” I murmured. “It’s like I don’t even know him at all.”
“I agree.” She paused for a good couple of seconds before continuing gently, “Does this news have any bearing on your opinion of his innocence?”
I blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I can hardly process it.” Shaking my head, I said, “I just don’t see the two of them together. They’re complete opposites. And there’s the tiny fact that she’s married to his brother.”
“I’m having real trouble with that, too. Neither of us would ever steal the other’s spouse, no matter the situation. I realize Jason and Valerie were all but divorced, but still.” Her eyes grew wide. “Hey, what if…what if Drew and Jason’s fight on the night of Jason’s murder was over Valerie?”
I was beginning to think she’d missed her calling as a professional investigator.
Rubbing my temples, I mumbled, “I guess…”
“What did Drew say was the catalyst for the fight?”
“He said it was ‘family stuff,’ but didn’t elaborate.”
“That’s it! Family dysfunction at its finest. This throws a whole new spin on things, Quinn. I hate to say it, but I’m beginning to think the police are right. Drew looks guilty.”
“I don’t know, D…”
I’d really love to think that Drew hadn’t been lying to me all this time. I couldn’t imagine him sending me out on a wild-goose chase that could end in the false accusation of an innocent person. But then again, I couldn’t imagine him and Valerie together. Nothing made sense anymore.
“Look, just sleep on it, okay?” She smoothed my hair back from my face. “You don’t want to have bags under your eyes for your date with Tucker tomorrow.”
I smiled halfheartedly. “You sound like Mom.”
Her mouth dropped open in horror. “You take that back!”
Chapter 26
The next morning, I was quiet as I made breakfast for our guests. My heart wasn’t in it, and I even sent the food out with Delilah ungarnished. She gave me a sympathetic smile but didn’t push me. I couldn’t get over the fact that Drew had kept such a monumental secret from me—one that affected him and his innocence, which could impact me as well. Baking and cooking, which was normally therapeutic, did nothing to improve my mood. I couldn’t even be excited about seeing Tucker later. The worst part was that I could feel my sadness and disappointment giving way to anger.
Once the food had been served, my mother of all people pulled me aside to have a heart-to-heart.
Studiously inspecting the air around me, she said, “Your aura is a cotton-picking mess, Quinn. What’s wrong?”
“Everything. I’ve had a pretty bad week, Mom.” Had she forgotten already?
“Yes, but you’re the even-tempered one. If anyone could cope with adversity, it should be you.”
I set down the plate I was holding with a thud. “I’m tired of always being the one everyone thinks is so perfect all the time! I make lots of mistakes. Big ones.” I pushed past her, out onto the porch.
She followed me. “Honey, we all make mistakes. It’s how we deal with them that matters. You have a good heart, and inside you know all the answers to your problems. Some might not be easy to deal with, but you know what you have to do. Let go of whatever’s troubling you.”
I didn’t see how I could do that. And I didn’t know the answer to the problem of whether or not to believe that Drew was innocent. There were too many variables, even for my heart to decide. There was a difference between blind faith and facts. I’d been going on blind faith, but the facts had been piling up. You couldn’t argue with facts.
“I don’t know, Mom.”
She gave me a hug. “I’m sure you know more than you think.” She reached into her pocket and produced a rumpled piece of blue paper, which she handed to me. “I think an aura cleanse would do wonders for you. Tomorrow night in one of the shops down on River Street, I’ll be doing aura cleansings. It’s the best twenty dollars you’ll spend all month. This flyer will tell you everything you need to know.”
“Great. Thanks, Mom,” I managed to say without rolling my eyes.
“Oh, and when you come to get your aura cleansed, when you’re around my friends, I don’t want to hear any of this ‘mom’ stuff. You and Delilah are too old to call me that. It makes me sound old. Now, that’s a real problem.”
I knew this helpful-mom act couldn’t last long. Once again, my mother had managed to make my problems about her.
“Right. That’s a real problem. I have work to do, so I’m going.”
I went back into the kitchen and busied myself with scouring out the grits pot, which, no surprise, I’d nearly ruined by not paying proper attention to preparing the grits earlier.
As I was scraping the gelatinous, stuck-on goo from the bottom of the pot, Papa Sal came over to me and murmured, “Quinnie, get out of here and go get your head on straight. I can tell that you’re upset. We’ll handle this.”
I turned to him, tears threatening. “Are you sure? I don’t want to let my life get in the way of—”
He held up a hand. “We’ve all had things to deal with over the years that have taken us away from our responsibilities at the B&B. Now it’s your turn. Whatever it is, work through it and don’t do another lick of work until you do. Capisce?”
I nodded, knowing what I had to do.
* * *
—
When I laid eyes on Drew sitting shackled to the table at the police station, I thought he looked even rougher than he had yesterday. I wondered if he’d made peace with being denied going to his brother’s funeral. I knew if I were in his situation, I didn’t think I’d ever get over missing Delilah’s. It had to be like a knife to his heart.
Be that as it may, I had a monumental bone to pick with him. I might have given him a pass when we spoke yesterday, but today he wasn’t getting off the hook for lying to me.
I sat down across from him. “Hi, Drew,” I said quietly.
“Hi.” After a pause, he said, “You seem…angry.”
Taking a moment to make sure I was in control of my emotions, I said, “I know about you and Valerie.”
Drew’s face went white. “What? Me and Val? There’s nothing—”
“Drew. I know, okay?”
He hung his head. “And now you think I killed my brother, too.”
Sighing, I replied, “I don’t know what to think. You’ve kept things from me all along—small things mostly, that I thought were oversights until now. You and Valerie being in a relationship changes everything about this case. And honestly, I feel like you played me.”
His eyes strained, he looked back up at me. “Quinn, I swear, I never m
eant to play you. I just couldn’t let anyone—even you—know about our relationship. I mean, the police know about it now—”
“Whoa, the police know about it, and you still couldn’t be bothered to tell me? I’m out there risking my neck to get you out of here, and you’re holding back some serious information.”
“Quinn, I’m sorry.”
I held up my hands and got up from the table. “I think I need to be done with this investigation, Drew. If I don’t have all the facts, it’s only going to get me hurt or worse. I can’t go into potentially dangerous situations blind. It’s not fair to me, and it’s not smart. I really hope you’re innocent and that you can get out of here. I honestly do. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to do it without me.”
I knocked on the door to be let out, keeping myself facing away from Drew. I knew he was hurt. I knew he thought I was abandoning him. But I couldn’t see how I could stand by him any longer.
Drew was silent as I left the room.
As if I didn’t have enough to deal with, Detective Flynn was leaning lazily against the wall outside, waiting for me.
“Another day, another visit,” he said, smirking as he gestured for me to walk with him down the hallway.
I was already fighting back tears, and his sass was not helping. “This should be my last one,” I said quietly.
“Is that so?”
Remembering I’d told Tucker I’d hand over my list of suspects today, I said, “Is Rufus around?”
Flynn shook his head. “No, sorry. You can talk to me, though.”
The prospect of having this conversation with Detective Flynn was far from ideal, but at this point, I wanted nothing more than to put this whole mess behind me. I blew out a breath. “Okay.”
He grinned at me. “Don’t act so excited.” When I didn’t reply, he said, “Let’s talk in the conference room.” He led the way there, and once we were seated at the conference table, he asked, “What’s on your mind, Ms. Bellandini?”
I hesitated. Neither Flynn nor Rufus had been particularly impressed with my list anytime I’d brought it up this past week. I couldn’t imagine that either of them would suddenly be interested in what I had to say. Regardless, I got the printout of Drew’s and my original list of suspects, which I’d scratched out and added to as the investigation had gone on, and my notebook and passed them to Detective Flynn.
He perused my notes for a few moments before saying anything. When he spoke, his tone was kind, which didn’t fit his hard-boiled cop persona. “I think you’ve done a decent job in trying to find out what happened to Jason Green, and I have to admit I’m impressed with your determination.”
I didn’t know what to say. Flynn was paying me a compliment? I never thought I’d see the day.
He continued, “However, the final suspect on your list is perplexing to me. Surely you’re aware that ‘Valerie Green’s boyfriend’ and Drew Green are one and the same.”
“I am.”
I hadn’t bothered to mark that one off my list after Delilah had clued me in last night about Drew and Valerie’s relationship. If I were being honest, deep down I was no longer convinced of Drew’s innocence. I’d be lying if I told the police that Valerie and the bookie were the only people I suspected. Friend or not, Drew was a valid suspect.
“I thought all this time you were working to free your friend.”
“I was working to find out the truth about what happened to Jason. I may not like what I’ve found, but I’m not going to try to cover it up. That wouldn’t be right, either.”
He smiled. “I appreciate your honesty. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to come here today.”
I nodded and stood. “Well, thanks for your time.”
“I always have time for a concerned citizen. Look, don’t give this mess another thought. You’ve had a rough week, and it’s time to give yourself a break. Okay?”
A break was exactly what I needed. “Sure.”
* * *
—
By the time I got home, I felt like a weight had been lifted off me. I was still conflicted about Drew, and I probably would continue to be. But my problems got pushed to the back of my mind when I went out on the back porch and saw that Tucker was having coffee with Delilah.
He stood as I walked over to him and held out his hands. “Good morning, Quinn.”
I took his hands and smiled up at him. “Good morning.”
Delilah, evidently unable to control her glee, blurted out, “Aww, you two make the cutest couple. I’ll give you some alone time.”
After she left, Tucker and I sat down together on the wicker settee.
He said, “Doing better today?”
“Mostly. I was pleasantly surprised that my list of possible suspects was so well received.”
“Hey, that’s great. So, does this mean you’re hanging up your sleuthing hat once and for all?”
“Yes.”
“Then would you like to go over to Tybee Island with me in a little while to ride Jet Skis and have a late picnic lunch on the beach?”
I hadn’t done anything that fun in a long time. “Of course. I’d love to.”
He checked his watch. “If that’s the case, then I have some errands to run. How about we leave around eleven?”
“Perfect.”
Chapter 27
“Wear my black bikini,” Delilah said, rummaging through her closet.
“Absolutely not. This is a first date, and I don’t want him to think—”
“Second date.”
“That other one didn’t count. Plus, I’m not convinced that your black bikini is even street legal. It leaves nothing to the imagination.” I held up the strings and scraps of fabric my sister kept insisting was a bathing suit, thinking it could never cover all the bits and pieces of me that it was supposed to.
“How about this one?” She held up a leopard print bikini that didn’t have much more fabric to it.
“Never mind. I’ll just wear my one-piece.”
“That thing is tragic. It’s a racerback, for crying out loud.”
I frowned. “D, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably wear my clothes over my suit the whole time, anyway. We’re jet-skiing, not swimming.”
“And this is a date, not a church social. Make at least a little effort.” She reached toward the very back of her closet. “Ah, here we go.” She handed me a multicolor floral bikini that actually had some substance to it and a matching red sarong.
I held it up to myself and looked in the mirror. “I could handle this one.”
“Finally. Now let’s do something with your hair.”
“D! What part of ‘we’re going jet-skiing’ do you not get?”
* * *
—
Complaining aside, I was happy I let Delilah help me get ready for my date. She twisted my hair into a stylish but secure braid that would hold up to zipping through the salty sea air at high speeds. And I had to admit I felt much prettier in her bikini-sarong combo than I would have in the T-shirt, cutoffs, and racerback tank suit I’d been planning to wear.
I didn’t give a second thought to any of my troubles once Tucker and I left for Tybee Island. On the ride over, we talked and laughed like old friends. Once we got on the Jet Ski and started whizzing around Dolphin Bay, taking in the sights like the quaint old Cockspur Lighthouse, I felt so free. It was like the whole world had vanished, and it was only Tucker, the sea, and me.
Once we were finished with our Jet Ski adventure, Tucker drove us over to a cottage that sat right on the beach.
“I want you to see my next project,” he said, getting out the picnic basket and leading me into the house.
It was an older home that hadn’t yet received a facelift, as so many Tybee Island properties had recently. But if what he’d done at his parents’ former hom
e was any indication, this diamond in the rough would be a showplace in no time.
“Tucker, it’s darling,” I said, taking in the loft area and the tiny galley kitchen.
He smiled. “Another of my parents’ investment properties. I think they alone can keep me busy until I can get my business up and running. One of the perks is that when their rentals are empty, I can use them for mini-vacations or parties or whatever.”
“Can’t beat that,” I said, trying to keep a happy face as I recalled my discussion yesterday with his father. Delilah was right. I really shouldn’t have made my veiled accusation.
“Come on. The view is even better out back.”
He took my hand and led me out the back door and down onto the beach. The Atlantic was gorgeous, as usual. I hadn’t had time to go to the beach in so long. It was a real treat to get to come here today.
Tucker spread a blanket out on the sand and helped me down into a seated position. He’d brought sandwiches, fruit, and a bottle of wine. This guy was looking like a keeper.
As we were eating, I said, “Tucker, thanks for bringing me here. It was just what I needed.”
He grinned at me. “And the company isn’t bad either, right?”
“Oh, of course. The company is the best part.”
Before he could reply, a female voice called, “Tucker! Sweetheart, where are you?”
He frowned momentarily, then said, “I hope you don’t mind uninvited guests.” Hopping up from the blanket, he walked a few feet toward the house and called, “On the beach, Mom.”
Even in the warm afternoon sun, my body turned to ice. I watched as first his mother, then his father emerged from the house and approached us. As soon as they were close enough to see me, their smiling faces turned dark.
Tucker, evidently oblivious to the situation, said, “Mom, Dad, you remember Quinn Bellandini from across the street?”
I stood, but before I could even say hello, his dad started his tirade.
“I thought I told you to stay away from my son, young lady,” he sputtered, his face getting redder by the second as he glared at me.
Southern Discomfort Page 21
