Blood and Bone

by Dawn Brown

  Kate was a year older than Julia. She might remember something about the man.

  “I only met him once, about a month before the murders. Heddi had invited him and your mother to dinner. She said it was a peace offering.” Yeah, right. Heddi didn’t do treaties. “I think she really wanted to convince your mother to leave him.” That sounded more like it. “The whole thing backfired. Both he and your mother accused Heddi of trying to ruin his business and terrorizing them in their home, and if she didn’t stop, she’d never see them again.”

  Des frowned. “What was Heddi doing to them?”

  “Who knows?” Kate said with a careless shrug. “We’ve both seen what she’s capable of.”

  He nodded slowly. He had seen what Heddi was capable of, experienced it firsthand. If his mother had planned to leave Anderson for another man anyway, why stay and put up with all of Heddi’s crap?

  Hell, he didn’t have time to think about that now. He had to get Shayne out of Dark Water, fast.

  Shayne parked at the curb before Annie Mumner’s yellow-brick bungalow. Similar houses lined either side of the narrow street with lush lawns and colorful flower gardens. Big maple trees rose up from the boulevard, their huge branches canopying the road, the dark green leaves of late summer giving way to patches of gold, orange and red.

  As she opened the car door and grabbed her bag, her phone rang. With a muttered curse, she stopped and dug through her purse. She managed to find her cell before it stopped ringing and glanced at the display. She didn’t recognize the number. Frowning, she pressed the phone to her ear.

  “Shayne Reynolds.”

  “Ms. Reynolds, this is Vivian Grey. I was Gwen’s sister-in-law.”

  Ian’s wife. “Is there something I can do for you, Mrs. Grey?”

  “I’d like to speak to you about your book.”

  Interesting. Des had mentioned convincing members of his family to agree to interviews, but Shayne hadn’t believed he’d be this successful so quickly. “Of course, I’d be happy to set up an appointment—”

  “Now. I need to see you as soon as possible.” Vivian’s words were clipped and short. A woman clearly used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it.

  “I’m about go into a meeting right now.”

  “Fine,” Vivian said, on an impatient sigh, “for lunch then?”

  That didn’t give her much time to prep for the interview. Still, Shayne didn’t want to blow her chance. “Okay, where would you like to meet?”

  “There’s a cafe in Willow Creek called The Starlight. Do you know it?”

  Willow Creek was the neighboring town and she didn’t know the place, but she’d find it. “What time?”

  “Come as soon as you’ve finished where you are. I’ll be waiting. And I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to keep this conversation confidential.”

  Shayne didn’t like the sound of that. Hopefully, the woman wouldn’t try to keep most of what she told Shayne off the record. “Did Des ask you to call me?”

  Vivian chuckled softly. “In a manner of speaking. Now remember what I said. No one else can know.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “People said Vivian Grey married for money, and married to Ian Grey she earned every penny.”

  —excerpt from Blood and Bone by Shayne Reynolds

  “Can I take that?” Shayne offered, nodding to the tray—laden with teapot, cups, milk and sugar—in Annie Mumner’s arms.

  “Oh, I can manage,” the older woman said. Her stout legs took careful steps as she led Shayne along the side of her house, down a narrow path of pinkish patio stones. “I hope you don’t mind sitting outside, but it’s too lovely to be indoors, and I suspect there aren’t many warm days like this left before the weather turns.”

  Mrs. Mumner was probably right. The sun shone bright and hot in the cloudless blue sky, but when the breeze picked up, a faint chill tinged the air. They rounded the side of the house and entered the backyard. The path merged into a square, interlocking patio, the bricks the same pinkish hue as the cement pavers they’d been following. A mass of late-blooming rosebushes clung to the wood privacy fence and sprung up in patches across the lawn, their blooms stunning clusters of fuchsia, red, peach and yellow.

  “Wow, this is beautiful. It’s like The Secret Garden back here.”

  Mrs. Mumner smiled, her round face lighting up and she set the tray on the glass patio table. “I love roses. You should have seen our house on River Road. We had so much land, and every year I would plant more bushes. I heard the man who bought the house ripped most of them out to put in a swimming pool. Breaks my heart.”

  Shayne lowered herself onto one of the chairs, sinking into the green-and-white-striped cushion as Mrs. Mumner poured the tea. “You sound as though you miss living there. Why did you move?” Though Shayne had a pretty good idea why. The Mumners had owned the property adjoining Robert and Gwen’s. A lot of people didn’t like to live near the site of a violent crime.

  “Not because of what happened to Gwen and her son, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Mrs. Mumner said, as if reading her mind. “What do you take in your tea?”

  “Black’s fine. Do you mind if I record our conversation, Mrs. Mumner?”

  The older woman shook her head and set a cup before Shayne, then sat opposite her. “Call me Annie, please. We sold the house once the boys had grown and left home. Bill and I aren’t getting any younger, and it was a lot of property to manage on our own. I do miss it, though. I mean this is lovely—” she waved her hand absently at the colorful yard, “—and we’re closer to town, which is convenient, but I do miss the quiet.”

  The hum of a car engine as it passed somewhere nearby mingled with the distant din of children’s voices. Birds chirped, fluttering about the yard, and the buzz of a heat bug droned nearby. Hardly the maddening crowd. Still, Shayne sympathized. Her little cabin at the edge of the river was like living at the edge of the world, the only person left on the planet. She might have found the place a little too isolated, especially after her welcome from the locals, but with Des there…

  The memory of his heart’s beating against her ear, his arms wrapped tightly around her while they’d cuddled on the couch, filled her head. Slow warmth built in her chest and seeped into her limbs.

  Oh, for God’s sake, could she not go a few minutes without his popping into her head?

  She flipped open her notebook and cleared her throat. “Were you and Gwendolyn close while you were neighbors?”

  “I wouldn’t say close, but I was friendlier than most. Her older boy Christian was good friends with my son Miles. They were inseparable that summer. After the murders, Miles was never the same. He went from a boy building forts in the woods and riding his bike, to a young man overnight.”

  The ripple effect. In a town this small, a tragedy like Gwendolyn’s touched everyone. “When you say you were friendlier with her than most, did she have a difficult time fitting into the community?”

  Annie shot her a wry smile. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “People didn’t like her? Why was that?”

  “To be fair, most people in this town didn’t deal with Gwen except if she did some shopping at the local stores or ate at the restaurants. And I never heard a word about her behavior being anything besides perfectly lovely. She had little to do with the businesses here. She ran her mother’s companies in the city, letting the old woman semiretire. But Heddra Grey is a known tyrant. She’s never been well liked. Ian Grey will climb into bed with anything wearing a skirt, and his wife is a nasty woman. When Robert left Natalie for Gwen, people saw a rich woman taking what she wanted.”

  “You didn’t agree with public opinion?”

  Annie daintily sipped her tea. “Make no mistake, I don’t agree with adultery, and I think people don’t take their marriage vows seriously enough these days. Couples don’t seem to be willing to work at it anymore.” A warm tingle crept up Shayne’s neck and into her cheeks. “But it was no se
cret Robert and Natalie only married when she became pregnant, and she had a wild streak. She spent more nights at Smitty’s, leaving her boy with Robert or her mother, than she did at home. Robert appeared much more settled with Gwen than he ever did with Natalie.”

  “How did Robert react to his first wife’s behavior?” A man willing to kill a woman who planned to leave him probably wouldn’t react well to a wife spending her nights at a roadhouse.

  Annie pursed her lips, her light eyes wary as if she were weighing how much she wanted to tell Shayne. “Most of what I heard was hearsay from Natalie’s mother—and she didn’t much approve of her daughter’s actions. Ellie said they fought something fierce at the beginning, and she always felt a little sorry for Robert. Natalie wasn’t all that interested in being a wife or a mother. She was young when they married.”

  Natalie Anderson’s mother was in a nursing home not far from town. She’d have to get an appointment with the woman and confirm everything Annie had said if she wanted to use any of it in her book. And she definitely wanted to do that. Robert’s inability to curtail his first wife’s wild nightlife might have been a large factor in Gwen’s murder when she tried to leave him—especially if she’d been involved with another man.

  “How were Robert and Gwen when you saw them together?”

  “They seemed happy enough.” Annie lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Gwen and I only became friendly shortly before she was murdered, and I think she only confided in me because she was afraid.”

  Shayne lifted her gaze from her notepad. “Of Robert?”

  “Oh, no.” Annie shook her head and waved her hand. “Someone had been vandalizing their house and Robert’s garage, calling the house in the middle of the night and threatening them. Even set fire to their shed. When Gwen told me about everything that had been going on, she was a nervous wreck. She suspected her mother was behind it and told me she and Robert wanted to leave town. It was the only way they could think of to get it all to stop.”

  Gwen and Robert? Shayne frowned. She must have heard the woman wrong. “Gwen wanted to leave with Robert?”

  Annie shrugged. “That’s what she said. She must have regretted telling me, though. She begged me not to tell a soul. She was afraid her mother would hear about their plans before they could get away. I know everyone, even Robert, claimed she was going to leave him, but she never mentioned it to me.”

  Why would she? But why would Gwen tell Annie anything? Why make up an elaborate story about leaving town with her husband to a woman who hardly knew her? Was she covering something up?

  “When you did see Robert and Gwen together, did he ever seem controlling, or did you notice any tension between them?”

  “Never. But as I said, I didn’t see them together often. My son saw more of them while he and Christian played together.”

  Maybe Annie’s son could help her with what she needed. “Could you tell me how I could contact him?”

  Annie shot her an apologetic smile. “I’m not comfortable giving you his number without speaking to him first.”

  “Of course.” Shayne pulled out a business card and slid it across the glass tabletop. “Here’s my information. If he’s willing to let me interview him, he can contact me.”

  “I’ll pass your number along.”

  “I have one more question.” Her mind still tried to make sense of Gwen’s claims she and Robert were going to leaving together. “What was your reaction when you learned about the murders.”

  “Shocked, of course. Horrified, and so very sad.” A faint tremble touched the older woman’s voice. She cleared her throat. “I never would have suspected Robert. When I heard what had happened, I thought for sure Heddra Grey had caught wind of their plans to leave and had arranged the murders. When Robert confessed, I couldn’t believe it. Sometimes I still can’t.”

  Robert denied killing his wife and stepson. With his death and Annie’s story, she could almost believe him. But why would he confess to a murder he hadn’t committed?

  Robert Anderson didn’t fit the profile.

  Shayne nipped at her lip as she pushed open the door to the Starlight Café. For the entire drive over, her interview with Annie had played back in her head, and her thoughts kept coming back to the same thing. Robert Anderson didn’t make sense as the killer.

  Men who killed their families were controlling, with a nearly fanatical ideal of what their families were supposed to be. When the control slipped, when their expectations weren’t met, they cleaned the slate and started again.

  No one had described Robert as controlling. Not with his first wife, nor his second. Funny thing was, Heddra Grey fit the profile to a T, except she was a woman. Controlling and manipulative, she would go to almost any extreme to bend her loved ones to her will.

  How would she have reacted when the daughter she’d spent her life molding no longer did as she was told? A daughter willing to leave town with her family to get away from her. Would that have been enough for Heddra Grey to kill the person she loved most?

  But Robert confessed. Why would he confess if he hadn’t done it?

  Shayne shoved her questions aside and scanned the restaurant. Indigo walls combined with dull halogen lights made the small space dark and cavernous. Strings of silver stars hanging in the windows filtered out the glare of the noon sun, and Shayne blinked, willing her eyes to adjust to the low light. The air smelled faintly of vinegar and spices. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten lunch yet. Maybe once she’d finished with Vivian, she’d grab a bite.

  She spotted Vivian seated at an iron-and-faux-wood table in the back corner of the restaurant. Today she wore a mauve blouse with a ruffle around her neck and over her ample bosom. Her hair, yellow and brittle like a doll’s, curled under her chin. The color combination made her look like an Easter egg.

  Vivian’s gaze met Shayne’s and a faint smirk pulled at her smudged lips, a sharp gleam shining in her dark eyes. Unease crept up Shayne’s spine as she started toward the woman. Something was off. Vivian looked entirely too pleased with herself.

  Shayne sat in the seat opposite her. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

  Vivian’s smile widened. “Oh, no. Thank you.”

  The sarcasm dripping from the older woman’s voice fed Shayne’s growing discomfort. Something was definitely up. Well, whatever it was, she wasn’t going to let herself be drawn into the woman’s games. She’d come here for an interview, and that’s what she planned to get.

  She reached into her bag and fished out her notepad and recorder. “Do you mind if I tape our conversation?”

  “No tape.” Vivian said, her heavily lined eyes narrowed. “No one can know I spoke to you. Well,” she hesitated as if considering something, then smiled, brilliantly and hard. “Except for Des. You’ll want to tell him we spoke.”

  Invisible, icy fingers tiptoed up her spine. Clearly, the woman had some kind of ax to grind with Des and had no intention of giving Shayne an interview. Word must be out within his family he was helping her. Would that cause trouble for him? She hoped not. “I’m afraid I can’t use whatever you won’t tell me on the record. There’s no point in continuing.”

  “Are you portraying Gwen as some kind of saint because she died?” Vivian’s voice took on a slightly mocking lilt. “Innocent? The victim?”

  “She and her son were gunned down in her own home. Don’t you think she’s a victim?” Why did she even bother responding to the woman? Meeting her was obviously a waste of time.

  Shayne pushed away from the table and stood, the metal legs of her chair scraping the tile floor. Vivian’s eyes narrowed, her brows pulling together in a frown. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m leaving. I came here for information for my book, but if you have nothing I can use…” She shrugged and hauled her bag over her shoulder.

  “They’re all the same you know, those Greys. They use people up, feed on them like vampires. Everybody thinks poor Gwen, but she was the worst of the lot, the
only difference was she bit off more than she could chew when she tried to use Robert.”

  “And what exactly was she using him for?”

  “To gain control of the businesses, of course.”

  Shayne rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. “I was under the impression her mother disowned her when she married.”

  “But in the end, Heddi promised her everything if she’d come back, and Gwen took her up on the offer. Two days before he killed her, she told Heddi she would leave Robert and come back to Grey Industries. But I guess Robert had other ideas.” Her mouth curled in a feral smile, her eyes bright with grim delight.

  Another version of Gwen’s actions prior to the murder. Though, this one seemed like pure speculation. Still, if Heddi had been putting Gwen and her family through hell, that could explain why Robert would be furious at the idea of Gwen going back to her mother.

  But why tell Annie they’d both planned to leave? What if Gwen had told her mother she would leave Robert to stop her from terrorizing them? Maybe let her believe she was falling in line so Heddi wouldn’t suspect Gwen of actually taking her family and leaving town. Why did Robert kill her?

  “Was she involved with anyone? Another man?”

  “Probably. No one in that family can keep it in their pants. But I guess you know that already.”

  Why even ask this woman? Vivian was hardly a reliable source. Time to go. “Well, thanks for meeting with me. I appreciate the insight.”

  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Des is a lot more like his mother than he knows. He made a deal with Heddi about you, you know.”

  Her stomach shriveled and knotted. “What kind of deal?”

  “He’s using you to get information about your book and passing it on to Heddi so she can shut you down.”

  No. Not possible. The horrible woman was looking to start something between her and Des. Probably, because his family had heard he’d agreed to help her, and they wanted to put a stop to it.

  Vivian tilted her head and leaned back in her seat. “Why do you think you haven’t had anymore visits from Heddi’s thugs?”