The news about her call to the police had obviously gone viral all over Tremont. Nothing was faster or more efficient than the gossip in a small town. Twitter had nothing on Tremont’s rumor mill.
Easton scowled at the people but Dizzy laid a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Don’t bother. It’s been happening to me all day. I found a drawing of a ghost on the door this morning when I opened up. If you give them any attention it will only encourage the behavior.”
“It’s bullshit,” he growled, practically baring his teeth to the two couples who quickly vacated the area, almost falling over each other in their haste. Good. They’d known what they were doing was wrong but they all knew that Dizzy was too sweet to say anything. But Easton wasn’t. “You don’t have to take this.”
Dizzy looked him right in the eye, her own expression hard. “You didn’t have any problem dishing it out last night, so I think you might want to check your hypocrisy meter. It’s in the red. Now, where were we? Right, you were judging these paintings. Do you have any more questions? If not, I need to check in with the other judges.”
She didn’t wait for his answer, whirling around and striding away. His gaze landed on the sway of her hips for a second too long because Carter was now grinning like an idiot.
“Clearly there is more going on between you two than this art contest. Care to share, big brother? This has to be a great story.”
“It’s not,” Easton replied bluntly. “Dizzy and I had a few words last night. End of story. See? Not so fascinating.”
“Are you sure? Because the tension between you two is almost electric and a hell of a lot more than a tiff.”
Easton shrugged, not willing to go into the details with his brother. “Just a disagreement. She wasn’t happy that I didn’t believe her about Stanford. We had words about it and she asked me to leave.”
Carter’s brows shot up to his hairline. “You don’t believe her? You think she’s lying?”
There was incredulity in Carter’s tone but he simply didn’t understand.
“Of course, I don’t think she was lying. I believe that she thinks she saw something. But there is no evidence that there was any murder, so clearly, she didn’t see what she thinks she did. But yes, I believe she believes it.”
Carter glanced over to where Dizzy was speaking animatedly to a few of her students. “But she’s a little crazy so she can’t have actually witnessed what she said she did? Right?”
Carter actually sounded like…
“You believe her?”
“Sure do.”
This day was becoming as strange as last night. Cue the Twilight Zone music.
“Even though there’s no evidence at all?”
“Yep, because Dizzy wouldn’t lie.”
Everyone kept thinking Easton thought she was lying. He didn’t think that.
“I didn’t say she–”
Carter held his hand up. “I don’t want to hear your lame excuses. You’re always saying how weird Dizzy is but she’s really not. And she’s absolutely not the type to make something like this up. If she says she saw something then she saw something. That’s it.”
Easton stepped closer so they wouldn’t be overheard. “You think Trip Stanford is a killer?”
“I don’t know if he killed anyone but I sure as hell know that Dizzy saw him in an altercation with someone.” Carter frowned as if he couldn’t figure out Easton. “We’ve known her practically our entire life. When has she ever made an accusation like this? I don’t know what happened last night but I know that something bad happened. You might want to try being a little more supportive. She’s been through hell and here she is walking and talking like normal today. Not many could do that.”
That was true. Even if the murder didn’t happen, Dizzy was convinced it had and that had to be traumatic.
Wait a minute. If the murder didn’t happen?
He was losing his mind too.
“I should probably apologize.”
Carter wrote on his clipboard and then moved down to the next painting. “You think?”
Easton owed her an apology. A good one. Groveling wasn’t his favorite thing to do but he’d do it. Dizzy was a nice person and she deserved it.
“She said that I couldn’t help myself. That it’s in my nature to want physical evidence,” he said defensively. If she understood did he still have to apologize?
“That’s true. Doesn’t make it any better though. You need to say you’re sorry or Mom is going to chew you a new asshole if she finds out how you acted.”
None of the Anderson boys ever wanted to piss off their mother. She never yelled but she had a way of being disappointed that had much more of an effect. Now their father? He yelled. And then sent them out to do the worst chores on the ranch as a punishment.
“How would she find out? Do you think Leann will tell her?”
He knew Dizzy wouldn’t. She wasn’t a tattletale. Never had been.
That cocky grin was back on Carter’s face. “If she doesn’t, I will. Now let’s get this done so you can go grovel a little.”
Something Easton wasn’t very good at.
Chapter Seven
‡
Dizzy handed a scoring sheet to Leann as the sculpture portion of the judging began. Easton and Carter were done with the paintings and had retreated to the far side of the community center for punch and cookies, much to Dizzy’s relief. She was vacillating between wanting to thank Easton for trying to defend her and punch him in the nose for being a butthead. Neither of those emotions were conducive to running an art show and contest so it was better if she didn’t speak to him the rest of the day.
“Just remember to have fun with this,” Dizzy reminded her friend. “Don’t try and analyze things too deeply. Think with your heart.”
Leann nodded and clipped the score card to the clipboard she’d been given. “Let me guess. Cousin Easton tried to find some magic mathematical formula he could use to judge the paintings? He’s a financial genius but I worry about him sometimes.”
Raising a brow, Dizzy glanced over toward the door where Easton was having an animated conversation with one of Dizzy’s art students, a lovely retired lady named Annabelle Dalton who liked to paint nudes, specifically her husband. If she wasn’t mistaken, Annabelle was doing a little flirting. Dizzy couldn’t really blame the woman; after all, Easton Anderson was handsome with his short, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and muscled physique that belied his desk job. She knew for a fact that all of the Anderson boys made a point to work on the ranch from time to time but Easton also belonged to the same gym as Dizzy.
He just went way more than she did.
“He seems like he has his life well in hand,” she observed. “Why would you worry?”
“He’s all alone.”
It looked like from choice because no Anderson man ever had to be by himself unless he wanted it that way. Way too many women in about five counties were hoping to land one of the few single ones left.
“So were you not long ago,” Dizzy pointed out. “Maybe he’s happy.”
“Maybe.” Leann shrugged. “Now before I start the judging I want to tell you what Zach said. He called me this morning and we had a long talk.”
Wrinkling her nose, Dizzy looked over her shoulder again to where Easton was now talking to his brother Carter, having shaken Annabelle. “Does he think I’m as crazy as Easton does?”
“Not in the least. He thinks you need to be careful. Very careful. He’s going to check out Trip Stanford’s background but in the meantime, I’m moving in with you. Unless, of course, I can convince you to leave your house and move in with me. You’d be safer.”
“I can’t leave,” Dizzy protested. “I have to keep an eye on him.”
“I told Zach that’s what you’d say,” Leann sighed. “Then I’m staying with you. And you know what that means… Sunday dinner at the Andersons. I think it’s roast chicken this week.”
Dizzy didn’t want her friend
to disrupt her entire life because of this but she had to honestly admit that she’d feel better if she had company. Her home, which had been a haven less than twenty-four hours ago, was now creepy as hell.
“You don’t have to stay with me.”
She didn’t sound convincing and Leann just laughed. “We can have fun. Like when I was living with you. It’ll be great.”
It would only be for a few days. Zach would be home on Tuesday and surely Leann wouldn’t stay then.
“Fine, and thank you. It is a little unsettling.”
A major understatement but Dizzy wasn’t a woman who would allow herself to crawl away to relive those horrifying moments over and over. She’d already decided that she had to be strong. Few people were taking what she said seriously so she was going to have to prove she was telling the truth all on her own.
She’d witnessed a murder and somehow she would prove it.
* * *
Easton didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him but he was beginning to think that he might be having some sort of early mid-life crisis. Here he was having a nice dinner with his sort of girlfriend Melanie Elliott and he was thinking about little Dizzy Foster. He should have his head examined.
Melanie was a local real estate attorney, educated and successful. She could pair wine with any meal and could talk about books, opera, and current events, although she was intelligent enough to shy away from topics too controversial that might ruin the digestion over dinner. She was also quite lovely, with her honey blonde hair styled conservatively into what he’d heard described as a “bob” that just brushed her chin. Her hair wasn’t long and wild like Dizzy’s and she didn’t wear bright lipstick, preferring soft tones that didn’t draw too much attention.
All in all, Melanie was perfect for Easton. She’d make an excellent wife and an asset to the Anderson family. She’d easily fit into his life whether he had to attend a cocktail party in New York or a lavish sit-down dinner in London. She’d know what fork to use and how to charm the stranger sitting next to her at the table.
And he was utterly and completely bored to death.
If there was one true thing he could say about Dizzy it was that he was never, ever under any circumstances bored when he was with her.
Frustrated? Amused? Puzzled? Yes, all of those things. But never bored.
This was Leann’s fault. She’d brought it up and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. Carter too had to take some blame. They’d said that he dated boring, unexciting women. They’d even suggested that he date Dizzy. Now here he was, comparing his perfectly wonderful girlfriend to a woman that was more like a little sister. And the girlfriend was coming out on the short end. What the hell had happened to him? Clearly, he’d had a blow to the head that he didn’t remember. Which would make sense if he had some type of short-term memory loss but then wouldn’t his head be sore?
Melanie sipped her pinot noir. “So the negotiations are going to continue but I know we’ll win out in the end. They don’t have much leverage.”
About what? He had to admit that he’d stopped listening a while ago. She’d been telling him about some deal she was negotiating on behalf of an out of town buyer. He wanted to purchase a large parcel of land and build townhouses. Melanie had already recommended Anderson Construction for the job and Easton should be thrilled. It would mean more housing choices in the Tremont area, plus a bountiful new contract for Anderson Industries.
Except that he couldn’t help but think that Dizzy wouldn’t like it. She’d say that the housing wasn’t that affordable and urban sprawl was an ugly thing. She wouldn’t be all that thrilled about what they’d have to do to all that unspoiled land either. Maybe Easton could convince the buyer to set aside some of the acreage and build a park. It might engender some local goodwill.
“Easton, you’ve barely spoken this evening.”
Pulled from his reverie, he couldn’t disagree. He’d been quiet and brooding tonight and none of that was Melanie’s fault.
“I’m sorry. I guess I have a lot on my mind tonight.”
Her brows pinched together sympathetically. “Work? Why don’t you tell me about it?”
He usually did. He and Melanie had somehow managed to steer clear of more personal topics in the six or so dates they’d had together. He really didn’t know much about her, to be truthful. Maybe there was much more to her than real estate law.
“Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t know.”
The words just came tumbling out of him and he’d been powerless to stop them. This was why he liked control. No surprises.
“Something about myself?” Her head tilted and she appraised him as if trying to figure out what alien entity had taken over his body. “Why don’t you start?”
A reasonable request.
Except that he didn’t like to talk about himself. It made him uncomfortable to reveal intimate details of his life. But he’d asked her so…
“I once thought I wanted to be a doctor,” he replied. “But I eventually changed my mind and went into finance.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
This was a subject he hadn’t thought about in years so he had to think for a minute as to why he had. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“I wanted to work in the family business.”
Melanie smiled and took a sip of her wine. “If you’d become a doctor I bet Tremont would have the best hospital in the United States with a wing named after your family.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be. I think I found a vocation that I have a passion for.”
“True.” Melanie played with the stem of her glass. “I guess it’s my turn. Let’s see, something about myself that you don’t know. How about…I was engaged once to my high school sweetheart.”
“Obviously you called it off.”
“We went to different universities. Long distance proved insurmountable. So is that what you were looking for?”
Was it? He didn’t feel any closer to Melanie. The fact was he liked her and she was lovely but if this was really going to work he probably shouldn’t be sitting here comparing her to Dizzy. That action didn’t bode well for their relationship.
“It was,” he began cautiously. Breaking Melanie’s heart was horrid but he had to be truthful. “It’s just that–”
“This isn’t working between us,” she finished for him, her smile growing wider.
She didn’t look upset in the least. If anything, she looked happy. And relieved. Damn.
“I don’t think it is,” he conceded, blowing out a breath. “I’m really sorry.”
“There isn’t any chemistry. I wanted to be attracted to you but something is missing.”
All this honesty was hell on his ego.
Frowning, Melanie reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “That didn’t come out quite the way I’d planned it. What I meant to say is that you’re a handsome man but I don’t think you’re all that attracted to me either, are you?”
No, but he was too much of a gentleman to say so.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Melanie.”
Apparently, that was funny because she began to laugh. “Well, thank you but I still don’t think you’re attracted to me. Not in…that way.”
The entire situation was awkward and it underlined to him why he avoided personal conversations. They were uncomfortable as hell.
“I just don’t think I’m the man for you, Melanie. You deserve better than a workaholic. I just don’t have the time to devote myself to a relationship right now.”
“There’s no heat between us.” Melanie smiled knowingly. “No passion, no chemistry. When you find the right one, you won’t care so much about dollars and cents.”
She sounded like a woman who knew all about that. Which could only mean one thing.
“You’ve already met someone else, haven’t you?” he sighed, taking a gulp of his own wine. His heart wasn’t hurt but his ego was slightly banged up. “Why
did you accept my dinner invitation?”
“Because I wanted to tell you in person,” she said softly. “But you made it much easier for me, so thank you. We’ve both been fooling ourselves these last weeks, thinking there might be something there between us. Clearly, we were meant to be just friends, and I hope we can stay that way.”
“We can.”
Of course, they could. Easton was nothing if not a rational man who didn’t let emotion sway his day to day decision making.
Jesus, he sounded boring as shit. No wonder Melanie had found someone else. He’d become an old fart at forty-one.
But he had no earthly idea how to change that. Or if he even wanted to.
Leann and Dizzy. They were making him crazy and now he was questioning his life choices. He was going to banish both of them from his brain cells. There was nothing wrong with the way he lived his life. Not one thing. He wasn’t boring either. Although he was now alone. Again. Another burgeoning relationship nipped in the bud. Perhaps he was meant to live his life this way.
It wouldn’t be so bad. He would control the thermostat and the remote. He’d never have to watch a chick flick and he didn’t have to rinse his whiskers out of the sink. He could leave the seat up to his heart’s content and eat Chinese takeout at three in the morning.
If he dated a woman like Dizzy he’d be going to psychic readings and helping her rearrange her healing crystals. He might even have to take up yoga.
Better to be alone than to do a Downward Facing Dog. A man had to have some dignity in this world.
* * *
Later that evening, too restless to sleep, Easton had gone for a run, hoping that exercise would wear out his body enough that he could quiet his mind. His brain simply wouldn’t turn off for even thirty seconds, darting from one thought to another until it felt like his head might explode.
Running through the streets of Tremont, his feet pounded the pavement as he breathed in the cooler night air, heavy with the perfume of freshly cut grass and flowers. Somewhere off in the distance a dog barked when he passed their house but he didn’t break stride, determined to return home completely exhausted. His thoughts, however, refused to cooperate, sifting through his mind as he tried to make some sense of the last few days.
Window to Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 7) Page 5
