“Amos, calm down, buddy. We’re not here to cause any trouble.”
The young deputy behind the desk shook his head. “I know why you’re here, and I’m not supposed to talk to you. In training they taught us that the more you say the higher the risk of saying something you don’t mean to, so it’s better if you say nothing. Besides, Grady—I mean, Sheriff Forrester—has said several times—”
“Oh,” Freddie said, raising his eyebrows politely. “Is Grady here? We’d be happy to speak with him if he has a moment.”
He just shook his head.
Amos Brian had to be the cutest deputy of all time. He was in his mid-twenties, but he looked like he was about seventeen. Fresh-faced. Apple-cheeked … although right now those apples were on fire.
I had met up with Freddie just outside the sheriff’s department. He didn’t seem so much grumpy today as … distant, maybe? Before I even got the chance to tell him about Grady, he had rushed inside. I mean, Say hello to your mother? That was something that needed to be discussed in great detail.
“Is he coming in later?”
Amos shook his head again.
“Could you elaborate—oh,” Freddie said, smiling and wagging a finger at him. “I see what you’re doing. Just like you said, don’t want to say anything you shouldn’t. Clever. Isn’t he doing a clever thing, Erica?”
“Totally clever.” I felt bad for Amos. He tried so hard. But we needed to help Candace. And the town. We all needed answers. “Otter Lake is really lucky to have you.”
He blushed harder. “Whenever you two walk in the door, I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
Freddie and I exchanged looks. Not exactly the way I wanted to be thought of, but I guess it came with the job.
“Amos, it’s okay. Look, we’ll leave you alone. Nobody wants to get you in trouble. And I for one think it’s totally unfair that Grady’s off … what? Picking up coffee? Leaving you to answer all the questions about … what happened last night.”
“Oh, he’s not picking up coffee.”
Freddie raised an eyebrow.
“He started his vacation today.”
Freddie did a comic double take. “Vacation? Grady never goes on vacation. Well, he did that one time he went to visit Erica in Chicag-o,” He got all tripped up on the last bit there, drawing out the o while giving me a nervous sidelong glance. Grady’s trip to Chicago was a bit of a sore subject for me. You know, because everything was perfect and we totally fell in love, but then Grady said the words I love you at the airport, and I didn’t because I have intimacy issues apparently and I lose the ability to speak when I’m feeling strong love-type emotions and then, well, everything devolved into a big pile of crap after that, and he started dating Can— See? This is why I didn’t like talking about Chicago!
Again, I could have given Freddie a heads-up on the whole vacation thing if he hadn’t been in such a rush to … what? Not be alone with me?
“Well, where did he go?”
Amos swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. “Can’t tell you that either.”
“That’s okay,” Freddie said. “You don’t have to. This is Grady we’re talking about. He’d never go far. He’s probably just camping in the mountains somewhere brooding, and thinking his lonely, handsome-man thoughts.”
I blinked. “Lonely handsome-man thoughts?”
“Yeah, you know. In a flannel shirt.”
“He’s actually suntanning on his porch right now.”
He blinked at me. “Well, you could have mentioned that.”
“I tried. You—”
“Doesn’t matter.” Freddie plunked an elbow on the counter and leaned toward Amos. “So does that mean you’re in charge now?” He picked up a pen and lazily twirled it in his fingers.
“No. No, we’ve called in Sheriff Bigly from North Country.”
“Oh well, we’d be happy to talk to Sheriff Bigly,” Freddie said.
Amos’s eyes grew very wide. “You don’t want to do that.”
“How come?”
“Sheriff Bigly’s heard the stories.”
“What stories?” I asked. “You mean like ‘Freddie and me’ stories?”
Amos nodded vigorously.
I bit my lip. That couldn’t be good. Hopefully it wasn’t the grave-digging one. We really didn’t come off too great in that one.
“Besides,” Amos went on, “now that it’s not looking like a case of death by misadventure after all—”
Freddie dropped the pen.
Amos immediately realized what he had done. But he also realized it was too late to take it back.
“So, it was murder,” Freddie said.
“Nothing’s official yet. Promise me you won’t spread it around town.”
Freddie looked at me. “When I went to the gazebo to check out the location, I saw all the police tape and I thought to myself—”
“Wait,” I said, holding up my hands. “Lyssa died at the gazebo?”
Freddie nodded.
“The location for the wedding is a crime scene?”
“I know it’s a bit of a hiccup,” Freddie said. “But—”
I threw my hands in the air and spun away. Well, this was just fantastic. Candace wasn’t going to want to get married where her maid of honor died. I mean, I didn’t think like a bride, but that had to be a hard no.
“We don’t even have the official cause of death yet,” I heard Amos say. “Everybody’s just assuming it was drowning, but—”
I looked back at Amos. I was suddenly really concerned that he might throw up. I think he was worried about the same thing because he snapped his mouth shut.
“Amos?” Freddie asked.
No response.
“Are you okay?” I tried.
He nodded his head but kept his mouth firmly shut.
Freddie and I exchanged glances.
“Does … this mean you’re done talking to us?”
He nodded again.
“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing Freddie’s elbow and pulling him off the counter.
He whirled his head around and mumbled through his teeth. “What are you doing? He won’t be able to pull off this silent treatment forever.”
“Mercy ruling.” Yes, we needed answers, but I didn’t want to get Amos fired. “We’ve got enough for now.”
“Oh!” Freddie said, jabbing a finger in the air. “Not quite. Amos, when do you think we can get at the stuff Candace left in the gazebo for the wedding?”
He shrugged.
“Dude, I’ve got a wedding to plan, and Candace has all the chairs and some plastic containers in there with decorations and stuff. I need to get in.”
The young deputy just looked apologetic.
My guess was Otter Lake being the small town it was would have to call in a special forensics team to go over the crime scene.
Freddie sighed. “Could you at least ask Sheriff Bigly?”
Amos frowned but then nodded.
We said our good-byes—well, Freddie and I did, Amos just nodded some more—and we left.
“Death by misadventure,” Freddie said once we were outside.
“What?”
“That’s how I want to go.” He trotted down the steps to the sidewalk. “But not until I’m like really, really old. Although that will probably make the misadventure part a little trickier to get into. You should do it with me,” he said. “Maybe we could go parachuting while juggling knives or something.”
“I’m not going parachuting with knives,” I said, pushing my bangs back from my face. “But at least you’re in a better mood.”
Freddie stopped to face me. “What are you talking about?” he asked with a squint. “And when are you planning on cutting your bangs?”
“What’s wrong with my bangs?” I flipped them back again. “I’m going for a windswept, layered kind of look.”
“You look like a sheepdog.”
I pointed at him. “And that right there is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Freddie just stared at me blankly.
“How you’ve been acting.”
“How have I been acting?”
“Mean. You’ve been mean. And why didn’t you call me yourself this morning?”
Freddie scoffed. “I was busy and I was already talking to Rhonda about the insurance case and—”
“No. No. No. That is not it.” I planted my fists on my hips. “You need to tell me right now what’s got you in this mood. It must have something to do with me because—”
“Erica,” he said with the type of smile that just made me insane, “I hate to break this to you, but not everything is about you.”
“What?” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “I never said it was about me!”
Freddie shot me a sideways look.
“Okay, fine, maybe I did say that.” Like two seconds ago. I shook my head. “I don’t believe this. First it’s you. Then my mother was acting all sketchy. Then there’s vacay Grady. What is going on in this town?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Freddie said. Suddenly his eyes were looking a lot like my mom’s when she lied. All wide. And childlike. “Name one time I have been mean to you.”
“You just said I looked like a sheepdog.”
“Yeah, but that’s because I care.”
I curled my hands into fists. “Would you just tell me what’s going on.”
“There is nothing wrong with me,” he said. “I am, however, slightly concerned about you.”
We stared at each other for a moment.
“You know what? Fine. Don’t tell me,” I said, waving a hand at him and walking down the steps backward. “I know I’m not crazy. You know I’m not crazy. But if you want us to pretend like I’m crazy, so you can keep whatever secret it is that you’re keeping, then it’s fine by me. This crazy person has a lot to do, thanks to y— Whoa!” With all my crazy talk, I didn’t realize that I was about to run right into Mrs. Shank walking her dog.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
The poor woman had dropped into a defensive crouch.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded quickly then picked up her dog and hustled away.
No, I wasn’t crazy. I just scared women in the streets … and their little dogs too.
“Cut those bangs, Erica,” Freddie called after me as I stomped down the street. “You’re going to hurt someone.”
“It wasn’t the bangs!”
* * *
After the sheriff’s department, I just kept walking all the way to Candace’s place. I had texted her earlier asking if I could come by. Not only did I want to check in on her, but I also wanted to talk to her about the night of the bachelorette party while her memory was still fresh. Normally, this was the type of thing I do with—he who shall not be named—but that wasn’t about to happen. Who did he think he was? Cut my bangs. Maybe he needed to get his bangs cut.
It was a good forty minutes from the sheriff’s department, but I needed time to think … and to kick rocks. Yeah, the kicking-rocks thing was going much better than the thinking.
I was not crazy. There was definitely something wrong with Freddie. Or he who shall not be nam—whatever! It was my internal rant. I could call him what I wanted. And I was almost one hundred percent convinced that whatever was going on had something to do with Sean. But why wouldn’t he tell me? That right there was the part that was making me nuts. I felt like a cat standing in front of a closed door. I just had to know what was behind it. Besides, Freddie was supposed to be the relationship I could count on. And vice versa. No matter what was happening in either of our love lives. So none of this made sense.
I shook my head and kicked another rock. Whatever. Freddie could keep his secret. I needed to focus on Candace. Candace was the one with real problems. Compared to Candace’s problems, Freddie and I just had like … pumpkin-spiced-latte problems. With Lyssa’s death—now a murder—Candace was going to need our support more than ever. We didn’t have time for this ridiculousness.
A small chill ran over me as I turned a corner to the small dirt service road to Candace’s place. The sun was hot today, but there was no humidity yet and the trees were thick and tall.
It wasn’t much farther though.
I could already see the laneway markers for the drivew—
Wait …
Who was that?
I froze and squinted at the trees opposite Candace’s cottage.
I could just barely make out a figure. Just standing there. Not moving.
I could have been mistaken—it was hard to tell given all the tree branches—but it looked like a woman.
“Hello?” I called out, taking a few steps forward.
The figure looked over to me, but I couldn’t make out the face. The windbreaker the person was wearing had a hood. She … or he … did wave though.
I waved back. Must just be a hiker … but given everything that had happened …
“Can I help you?” I called out, hurrying my steps. But the figure had already turned and was walking deeper into the woods. I was quickly losing sight of her.
Should I follow?
Didn’t seem like a great idea safetywise. But what if that person was a lead? This was why Freddie and I were supposed to do this kind of thing together. That way we wouldn’t die alone. Nobody wanted to die al—
“Erica?”
“Wah!”
I whipped my head around.
Candace. Standing in her front door. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. I would probably look more fine if I wasn’t clutching my heart. “I just … I saw someone in the woods.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Candace’s eyes scanned the forest. “People do hike out here. There’s a pretty popular trail.”
I nodded. “It’s just with…”
“I know,” Candace said. “Come in.”
Chapter Eight
“I’m sorry again if I scared you,” I said, accepting the mug of tea Candace was handing to me. “It probably was a hiker. I mean, she waved when I called out to her, or him … whoever.”
She sat in the chair across from me on the sofa and curled her legs underneath her. “No, I’m sure you’re right.” I looked Candace over. Her hair was brushed today and she didn’t look like she had been crying, but the bags under her eyes hinted that she wasn’t sleeping.
“But you should probably mention it to Amos.”
She nodded and pulled a pillow on her lap. “He and Sheriff Bigly are coming over later. I will.”
I nodded and looked around. “Where is everybody?”
“Joey and Antonia took his grandmother to the doctor,” Candace said, taking a quick glance at her phone. “She was having a rough morning.”
“Oh.” I wanted to say So they left you here alone? But I restrained myself. It felt pretty judgey.
“Joey wanted to stay, but Antonia…” She shook her head. “I told him I was fine.”
“Are you really though?” I asked, blowing on my tea. “Now that we know for sure…”
“That Lyssa’s death was suspicious?” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Amos said they need more information about her—and I want to help—but I don’t know what more I can tell them. I mean, it’s been years since we were really close. And even back in college, we weren’t ever really … confidants. You know what I mean?”
I frowned. “Not exactly.”
“Well, Lyssa was always lots of fun and over-the-top. That’s why I was so drawn to her. I was kind of shy,” she said with a small shrug. “But I can’t help but think she used all that … personality as a way to keep people at a distance.”
“Why?”
“From what I could piece together, her childhood was pretty rough.” Candace shook her head and looked out the window. “She didn’t get along with her adoptive parents. The only time she ever really told me about it was when I got back to the do
rm one night and found her superdrunk.” She picked at a loose thread on the pillow in her lap. “She had just contacted her birth mother for the first time.”
I waited.
“Her mother wanted nothing to do with her. Hung up as soon as she knew who it was.”
I let go of the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Wow. That’s rough.”
“Yeah, but then the next morning, she was back to her usual self. When I brought it up, she pretended like she didn’t know what I was talking about, and we were off to the next party.”
It was hard to reconcile the version of Lyssa I had created in my head with this new information. Maybe she wasn’t as free and confident as I had thought.
“I just wish I could have been a better friend to her, you know?” A tear slipped down Candace’s cheek. She quickly brushed it away.
I nodded. “What about her boyfriend? Justin? Has anyone been able to track him down?”
“Still haven’t heard from him. The police haven’t located him. I can’t even find any pictures of him online.”
I frowned. “Really?”
“Yeah, it’s weird.” Candace grabbed her phone again. “Lyssa was always pretty big on social media, but now it’s like she’s been scrubbed clean.”
I came over and sat beside her. We spent a few minutes trolling the usual sites, but Lyssa was nowhere to be found, except for a few old pictures from Candace’s pages.
“That is weird.”
“And that’s not all,” Candace said. “I’ve been going over that night again and again, and…”
“And?”
“Well, Lyssa had this bag. Like a purse. But it was kind of big.” Candace sized out the shape with her hands. “She wouldn’t let it out of her sight. She insisted she take it to the Dawg. I didn’t think anything of it at first. But now … it seemed out of place.”
“You told Amos about all this, right?”
“I told him, but…” She sighed. “I feel terrible saying it, but I’m worried about whether he’s up to this job.”
I nodded.
“I hope this Sheriff Bigly is more like…”
“Grady?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She shot me an awkward smile.
“You can say his name, you know.”
“I know. I just didn’t want to be…” I could see the struggle to find the right words play across her face. “I hope this doesn’t sound wrong, but I’m just so happy that I found Joey. It’s like finding … home. I want that for you too. Whoever it’s with.” Her eyes darted up to mine. “Does that sound bad?”
Down the Aisle with Murder Page 6
