by Alice Sabo
“Well, good for you.” The words sounded snide, but the tone was warmer than he expected. Asher met the sheriff’s eyes, relieved to not see an accusing glare.
“We got bear around here,” the sheriff said as he walked out of the woods onto the sunlit lawn.
Asher scurried after him, eager to be away from the darkness under the trees. “But shouldn’t you try to track it?”
The big man turned. “I can see you think you saw something. But there ain’t nothing there now. I can’t bring up trackers and dogs if I don’t know what I’m hunting for.”
“But it was a person.”
“Maybe the remains of a deer or maybe a red fox.” He gestured to a tree with blood red leaves. “Maybe some leaves that got blown into a big pile that had a funny shape to ‘em. Mind plays tricks and you had an upsetting morning.” The sheriff gave him a half-nod of parting then strode across the lawn.
Asher stood where he was, shocked and disappointed. “It was real,” he mumbled. Then almost fell as he stepped on the back of his floppy slipper, again.
“The shoe!”
The sheriff was between the cottages, half way to the driveway, when he stopped. Asher dashed back to where he’d seen it. “Here!” His voice had a strident tone that sounded more than a tad desperate. He had to give the sheriff points on patience as he came back with a very neutral expression on his face.
“Damn.” The sheriff went down on one knee to examine the bloody shoe. He picked up a stick and tipped it over.
That’s when Asher saw what remained in the shoe, and the world went a bit fuzzy. He grabbed onto a branch and managed not to faint. That would absolutely be the final straw. “Must be low blood sugar,” he apologized, sagging against the tree. “I haven’t eaten all day.”
“You best go wait in the house,” the sheriff said, his words almost kind.
“Yes.” Asher staggered back into the cottage, collapsing on the loveseat in the sitting room. His head was pounding with his heartbeat which was way too fast. He felt hot and cold and nauseous and hungry all at once. He was trying to decide if he was going to throw up when there was another knock at the front door.
Asher could tell the man was from LA the minute that he entered the room. None of the locals would be dressed in a blue suede jacket with matching shoes, a patterned silk scarf carefully knotted around his neck. His curly brown hair was fluffed out, catching the afternoon sun, giving him a halo. There was a touch of eye shadow and wet lick of lip gloss. Thin gold hoop earrings completed the ensemble. Asher’d take a flying guess and say wardrobe.
“You don’t remember me.”
Those were words Asher really didn’t want to hear right at the moment. They very often preceded a tirade of abuse. “No, sorry.” He waved the man in.
“George said that you probably wouldn’t.” The man was a few inches shorter than Asher but managed to take up a lot more room. He seemed very intimidating despite the earrings and makeup. His blue eyes were cold. A look Asher recognized as a complete loss of goodwill due to something very wrong that he’d blithely done in a drug and alcohol fueled haze. “I worked on My Lady’s Displeasure.”
Asher flinched. “Oh, I am so sorry. I don’t remember anything about that movie.”
A perfectly shaped eyebrow tweaked upward. “Then why apologize?”
“Because I don’t remember anything about that movie.”
“Hmph,” he said, but gave Asher a thorough appraisal. He held up a shopping bag. “I brought you some clothes.”
“How did you know?”
“News travels fast in a small town. Are you still wet from the pond?”
“Um, no, hot tub.”
He nodded toward the cruiser in the driveway. “Why are the police here?”
“I found a body in the woods.” That was a conversation stopper and sent both eyebrows up. Asher shivered.
“Well, you have had a busy morning. I’m Bunny by the way.” He held out a manicured hand wrist up, fingers down. Asher had a moment’s thought that he was expected to kiss the hand, not shake it, but Bunny turned out to have a pleasantly firm grip. “George asked me to keep an eye on you.”
Asher conjured a weak smile. “I appreciate all the help I can get.”
“Do you need anything other than the clothes?”
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can always ask.” The tone indicated that very few favors were ever granted.
“Could you check the kitchen for any alcohol?” At the scowl, he got he realized he hadn’t been clear. “And get rid of it?”
The icy glare warmed a tad. “That’s an easy favor. Have you eaten?”
“No. And I’m not sure I can after what I saw in the woods.”
Bunny handed him the shopping bag. “Get dressed. It’ll make you feel better.” He marched into the kitchen.
Asher obediently went into the bathroom to dress. The little house had two small bedrooms on one end and the kitchen and bath on the other connected by the sitting room. The front door had a porch large enough for two rocking chairs. The back door opened on to the patio with the hot tub. The doors stood on either end of the sitting room, making it feel like a furnished breezeway. The place smelled faintly of mothballs and cigarettes. It was a comfortable vacation sort of smell. It helped him relax a bit.
He hung the soggy robe on the back of the door and rubbed his cold, clammy skin with a towel. Bunny had even brought his preferred underwear. The jeans fit well. The soft knit pullover was the perfect slate gray that made his eyes especially blue. Socks and running shoes were in the bottom of the bag. And Bunny was right. He did feel much better.
Chapter 3
By the time Asher returned to the kitchen, Bunny had coffee brewing and toast on the table. “Wow. This is so kind of you. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the clothes. I was thinking I’d have to put my muddy pants back on and go shopping.”
Bunny walked around him, examining the clothes. He pinched and tugged the fabric in a way that confirmed Asher’s guess that Bunny was in wardrobe. “They fit well enough. You were much thinner when I last measured you, but George said you’d put some weight on. Sit. You’re white as a sheet.”
“The toast smells amazing.” Asher collapsed into the chair. He was feeling decidedly light-headed. And he was going to blame the trembling on hunger, too.
“Jewish rye. They have some good bakeries in Asheville. Good beer, too.”
The comment was dropped casually, but Asher knew it was a test. Virtually all of his life was a test these days, and his answers were weighed in measures of trust and goodwill. It took more than a heartfelt apology to repair the wreckage he had hurled at people over the years. It took actions and intent to build a new reputation. Every day, he had to prove that he was a different person than the drug-addled reprobate that only the paparazzi loved. He picked his words carefully. “Well, if they don’t sell beer at the bakeries, I’ll check them out.”
He thought he saw a faint flicker of approval in Bunny’s icy blue eyes. That was enough to let him turn to the food. The toast was crisp and buttery, and he wanted to cram it in his mouth and wolf it down but forced himself to take small bites and chew. Bunny poured them both coffee before sitting across from him at the small table. Silence weighed heavy between them. Asher wracked his nutrient-deprived brain to come up with some small talk.
“I’m supposed to start fencing lessons tomorrow. And I’ve got a trainer coming in next week, I think. Hopefully, I’ll be putting on a little more muscle.” He gulped a mouthful of scalding coffee, nearly choking on it.
Bunny peered at him through the steam from his coffee. “Is that supposed to impress me?”
Asher laughed ruefully. He never seemed to do things the correct way. He couldn’t even handle casual socializing without over-thinking everything. No wonder his first three marriages had failed. “No, sorry. I just thought. . .you’re wardrobe, right? I remember getting yelled at by someone who measured me before I
started training, and then none of the shirts fit.”
“How thoughtful.”
The comment was delivered in such a neutral tone that Asher couldn’t decide if it was honest or sarcastic. Personally, he would stick to honest and sincere. It held him in good stead most times. “But I don’t know if you’re doing anything tight. You know, in shirts. . .” Bunny’s bland stare made him uneasy.
“Hmm. I haven’t finalized the designs. Wanted to see what kind of shape you were in first.”
“I’ve been swimming and stuff,” Asher stammered. He knew this film had some love scenes in it and had started toning up the day that he signed the contract. There was always the possibility of a body double, if the studio didn’t think he was buff enough. But the less the studio had to worry about, the better things would work for him. Ellie had assured him that he was in adequate shape for the camera. Bunny’s laser-sharp regard made him wonder if adequate would be enough. Ellie loved him, but he didn’t think she’d lie about something that would impact his work. He pushed his shoulders back, sitting straighter.
The corner of Bunny’s mouth curled up slightly in what Asher hoped was a smile. “You’ll do. The long hair suits you.”
“Thanks.” Asher turned his attention back to the food. The toast helped. His stomach was settling down, but he didn’t think he could eat anything more. The hot coffee warmed his insides easing the tremors that came and went. Bunny sat across from him sipping coffee and watching him. Asher wasn’t sure if he could come up with any more small talk. Thankfully, there was a knock on the back door. Asher nearly tipped over his chair in his rush to answer it.
“Mr. Blaine?” The sheriff greeted him grimly. “Looks like we definitely have a case of foul play here.”
Asher swallowed, his mouth going dry. The toast wasn’t sitting as well as it had a second ago. “Did you find the rest of the body?”
Sheriff Danson’s brows came together at a deep vertical line in his forehead. Looked to Asher like Danson did a lot of frowning. “No, sir, but there will be a search for it. Why did you shower before calling 911?”
Sweat pricked out on the back of Asher’s neck. He’d been here before. The man was just doing his job. It wasn’t an attack on him, but he couldn’t help feeling panicky. If Danson arrested him, it would definitely be on the news. He had learned his lesson with the last murder investigation. Polite and cooperative was the best way to go with law officers, regardless of how damning the question. “I didn’t. I was in the hot tub.”
“Uh huh. Any witnesses?”
“Mrs. Wheatly showed me around after you dropped me off. Gave me the robe and slippers. As soon as she left, I got in the hot tub.”
“Uh huh. All this time?”
He wasn’t making any notes. Asher wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “I was cold,” he said weakly. How long had he been in there? He had no sense of time today. In fact, he was probably still on LA time. It couldn’t have been that long. He glanced around for a clock.
The sheriff turned to Bunny and gave him a long, silent appraisal. Asher had to admit that Bunny was rather exotic for these parts. Bunny didn’t hesitate to return an equally harsh assessment, his blue eyes sparking with anger.
“And why are you here?” Danson asked Bunny.
Bunny seemed to somehow take up more space. “We’re all working on the film. My partner and I have the end bungalow. There are eight more crew in the guesthouse. If that matters. I heard about Mr. Blaine’s mishap and brought him some clothes.”
That made Danson frown even harder. “You had clothes for him?”
“I am the head of wardrobe. Of course, I had clothing for him.”
Asher didn’t say a word. There was no reason for Bunny to have street clothes for him. The film was high fantasy, and he’d probably be in laced-up doublets and chainmail for most of it, but he wasn’t going to bring that up. It had no bearing on the dead body and would surely muddy the issue. Keeping his mouth shut was equally as important as being polite and cooperative in these situations.
“Uh huh.” The sheriff examined the sitting room, noting the multiple doorways. “Two bedrooms? You staying alone here?”
“Until my wife arrives.”
“Wife?” Danson said with doubt in his voice.
“Are the children coming?” Bunny asked. Asher could have kissed him.
“Ellie’s coming out alone first. And we’ll go back over a weekend to bring them out.”
Bunny nodded knowingly. “That’s a good idea. Flying with children can be rough.”
“You’re planning on leaving town?” Danson snapped.
“Not for a couple weeks,” Asher assured him.
Danson grunted a response that could mean a dozen things. “Woods are off limits.” He stalked out the back door.
Asher slumped against the kitchen doorjamb with a sigh of relief. His legs were wobbly again. “Thank you.”
“Officious prig,” Bunny grumbled, waving a hand in dismissal.
“He’s the same one who hauled me out of the pond this morning.”
Bunny barked a laugh. “You do have the most peculiar luck.”
Asher went to the back door and peeked out through the filmy curtain. There were more men in uniform out there. They had strung crime scene tape around the trees and into the woods. He hadn’t noticed their arrival. That meant more police cars in the driveway. With his luck, reporters would be right behind them.
“What did you see?” Bunny asked.
“I’m not sure. It was bloody and torn apart. I’m really hoping it was done by a bear.”
“Why would you hope that someone had been torn apart by a bear?” Bunny asked with a look halfway between bewilderment and horror.
“Because otherwise there’s an insane killer out there.”
Chapter 4
Bunny announced that he didn’t think Asher should be alone and that he had errands to run, so Asher needed to tag along. Asher didn’t mind. Staying in the cottage would have been too nerve wracking, watching the police comb through the woods. Being along for the ride was a nice distraction to help him avoid thinking about the bloody bits he’d seen. Right now, that was a bonus. Bunny had a big, cobalt blue SUV stuffed full of boxes and bags. Asher shifted a stack of drawings and fabric samples to squeeze into the front seat. Bunny grabbed the pile away from him, grumbling under his breath as he rummaged for space in the back. They bumped down the rutted driveway and out on to a narrow road.
“So you have kids?” Bunny asked.
Asher shot him a startled look. “But you asked. . .”
“I guessed. Heard something somewhere. Just wanted to throw the cop off track.”
Asher grinned. “Yes, I have two kids.”
“Little or big?”
“Well, Thomas was a surprise. He’s six and a half now and I just met him last year.”
“Ah.” Bunny smirked. “Not a child of any your three wives?”
Asher rubbed his palms on his jeans. Personal questions made him uneasy. Bunny seemed to know a lot about him, but then again, his life had been splashed across the tabloids for years before his downfall. “No. My fourth, but we weren’t married yet.”
“And the other kid?”
“Sharon,” he said, his grin inching wider. “Our astonishing, perfect sweet baby girl.”
“Ugh, a gusher,” Bunny mumbled.
“I missed out on a lot with Thomas. But I got to go through it all with Ellie when she was pregnant with Sharon. Nearly burst from joy the day she was born.” Asher shut his mouth abruptly because there was sadness mixed in with the joy. Naming his daughter after the young woman who had been murdered had eased some of his guilt about that death. The name had a new life with a new meaning.
“But?” Bunny cast him a look that meant he’d picked up on Asher’s emotional about-face.
“She changes every day. I’m afraid I’m going to miss something important while I’m away. Or she might forget me.”
“Adorable,” Bunny grumbled.
The road wound through thick woods. Asher tried to relax in the warm sun shining in the window. He didn’t care where they went as long as it didn’t require him to talk to policemen. It shouldn’t have surprised him when they arrived at a large fabric store. Asher found it fascinating. He had never been in one before. Piles of fabric in all sorts of colors and textures. Row after row of thick and soft or gauzy and light and things he’d never dreamed of. He wasn’t sure where he had thought the costumers got fabric to make the clothes, but he would never have envisioned a supermarket of cloth.
While Bunny hunted and gathered along the rows of bolts, Asher wandered through the crafts. Feathers and buttons and ribbons and rhinestones, all very colorful. It was a wonderful diversion. He fingered some incredibly soft fleece with teddy bears on it and thought about his son, Thomas. Although at six and a half, he might be done with teddy bears. Dinosaurs were the latest obsession. There was one with hearts and flowers that could be for Sharon. He almost bought some, but hadn’t a clue what to do with it. Then he remembered his wallet was in his drowned satchel in the car that they towed out of the pond.
He wandered back to an area of tables and chairs that could be for classes. He glanced through some flyers hanging on a bulletin board about quilting lessons and contests and craft fairs. There were ribbons tacked up at the top of the board, blue and red mostly. And now that he paid attention, he saw there were quilts hanging on the walls. A stack of handouts on the table was about an upcoming quilting bee. At the bottom of the page was an ad for the store—A Quilter’s Paradise. It was a tiny glimpse into a different life for him. He looked over pictures of smiling women standing in front of prize quilts. Here was an entire industry that he knew nothing about.
He watched Bunny make a dozen trips to the counter, piling up bolts of cloth. The young girl at the cash register seemed equally stunned by the load of fabric and the presence of Bunny.
“You want all that cut?” she asked, eyeing the mound.
“No, I’ll take the whole thing,” Bunny said brusquely.
