Dead For Good Book 1

by Stacy Claflin

  He hurried over and welcomed them, offering a tray of cheese and crackers he'd grabbed from the coffee table.

  "Where can I put this?" Rose asked, raising her bowl.

  Faye appeared beside him. "Snack or main dish?"

  "Salad."

  "I'll take it to the kitchen for now. I'm Faye."

  "Rose Flores. It's so nice to finally meet you." She handed the bowl over. "Brad has told us all so much about you."

  "Oh, you're from BlueBlade?"

  "Yes." Rose flashed her brightest smile. "We all look up to Brad. Hard not to when he's so high up in the company."

  Faye gave him an approving look. "That's great to hear. Make yourself at home."

  "Has the game already started?" Dillon hurried to the living room, and the other guys followed.

  Rose pulled Brad to the side. "Anyone you want me to talk to first?"

  "You could start with the people glaring at me. I can't get a word from any of them."

  She straightened her back, sticking out her chest. "I'm on it. And don't worry, we'll find the real killer whether they're here or not. All of these people are neighbors?"

  "Unfortunately."

  "Great. This'll be fun. Just relax and enjoy your party." She put her hand on his arm, near his chest. "If I find something useful, you could put in a good word with Kurt for me."

  "Sure, no problem."

  "Great. I like making people sweat." She winked and sauntered toward the living room.

  He turned to see Faye watching.

  She cleared her throat. "She seems nice."

  "Rose wants to help. That's why she's here."

  "Help with what?"

  Brad stepped closer. "Finding the murderer. Nobody will talk to me."

  "Why did you ask for her help?" Faye shifted, adjusting her shirt and glancing toward the main part of the party.

  "I didn't. She volunteered."

  "Really? How'd she know about Duke?"

  "I ran into her at the office earlier. Couldn't find Kurt."

  "So you told her that the police suspect you?"

  "Yes. I was frustrated, and she could tell. Look, we're wasting time here. It's going to be much harder after this. We have to take advantage of everyone being in one place."

  She frowned. "Okay. Let me know if you learn anything."

  He kissed her on the cheek. "Will do. And don't worry about Rose. She's harmless."

  "If you say so. As long as this isn't a repeat of Jessica Witten."

  Brad drew in a measured breath, carefully considering his words. "I can't believe you're bringing that up. And like I said, Rose only wants to help. I think she's just excited to be at a party."

  "Somehow, I find it hard to believe that she'd have trouble landing an invite."

  "Kurt isn't doing anything for me right now. At least she wants to help. She's great at her job."

  "Selling knives?"

  "Yes. It takes more skill than you'd think."

  "I hope you're right." Faye's mouth formed a straight line before she spun around and marched into the kitchen.

  Irritation ran through him, but he pushed it aside. He would have to deal with Faye later.

  Rose had a group of husbands gathered around her in the living room, all of them laughing at something she said.

  Was that her way of trying to pull a confession? It looked more like she was ready to pass out shots.

  At least if Faye looked in, that sight would put her mind at ease. Then they wouldn't need to discuss either Rose or Jessica.

  How could she bring that up again after so long?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brad grabbed a beer from a cooler and took a quick swig. Just enough to ease his frayed nerves. He needed to be clear-headed to question those who would talk to him.

  Fallon, one of several millennials who occupied the only rental house in the subdivision, grabbed a beer too. “Cool party.”

  “Too bad about Duke.”

  “Yeah. I wonder what he did to piss someone off bad enough to kill him.”

  Brad took a sip. “No idea. Did you know him well?”

  “Nope. Dude never talked about anything other than trying to get me into his pyramid business.”

  “Exactly.” Brad gave him an easy smile. “Wasn’t he about your age?”

  Fallon shrugged. “Maybe. He acted like an old married guy — no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “He wasn’t one of us, is all I’m saying. You won’t see us decorating for the holidays.”

  “It isn’t for everyone.” Brad finished his drink. He was slightly more relaxed but could really use another. He just wasn’t willing to risk falling off his game.

  “So, what made you want to have the party here? I mean, aside from the fact that Duke obviously can’t.”

  “Why not? Our house already looks the part.”

  “I guess.” Fallon poked one of Allison’s decorations. “But I mean, with everyone wondering if you did it.”

  “What kind of lunatic would kill a man over decorations?”

  “Got me.”

  Cassidy, one of Fallon’s roommates, came over. “Whatcha talking about?”

  “Whether or not he killed Duke over the decorations.”

  “Oh my gosh. You can’t say that to his face!” Her cheeks reddened as she turned to Brad. “It’s just gossip. Nobody believes it. Fallon can be an idiot.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I can handle a little gossip,” Brad said. “What do you think?”

  “Me?” Cassidy’s hands went to her neck. “I don’t… I mean … You seem like a nice guy. Your kids never get into trouble.”

  Brad leaned against the wall. “You think it’s a possibility?”

  “No. That’s insane.”

  Fallon grabbed another beer. “Where were you that night?”

  Cassidy glowered at him.

  “Me?” Brad pointed at his chest. “I was on a date with my lovely wife.”

  “Who says lovely wife? Sounds like a cover to me.”

  Brad’s heart gathered speed. He wasn’t about to let this punk get the best of him. “Mature adults talk like that. Something you clearly don’t understand.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Cassidy mouthed before turning to Fallon. “Come on. Let’s ease up. You already had those wine coolers at home.”

  Brad smirked.

  Fallon flipped him off.

  “What was I saying about maturity?”

  Lane, another of their roommates, came over. “What’s up?”

  Fallon set his drink down. “We were just trying to figure out where Brad was the night Duke died.”

  “Interesting. Where?”

  “He says on a date with his lovely wife.” Fallon’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

  “So sweet.” Lane smiled.

  “Can you prove anything?” Fallon demanded.

  “What do I need to prove to you?” Brad stared him down. “The police know all the details, and yet here I am. No cuffs. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Where were you the night Duke died?”

  “At a frat party. It was tight. Lots of people to vouch for me. Who can do the same for you?”

  Brad resisted the urge to grab another drink. No way would he let this guy get to him. Wasn’t going to happen. “Slow down on the drinks. There are kids running around.”

  “Sorry about him.” Cassidy put her hands on Fallon’s shoulders. “If he doesn’t calm down, I’ll see him home.”

  “It’d beat being here.” Fallon stomped off.

  “Enjoy the appetizers,” Brad said through gritted teeth before walking away.

  “You okay?” Lucas had snuck up on him from behind.

  “No dog?” Brad asked, looking for the chihuahua.

  “Mitzy’s at home sleeping. Being around this much noise really sets off her anxiety.”

  “Of course.” Brad looked around for someone suspicious to question. Lucas was annoying but h
ardly the murderous type.

  Rose was laughing with a different group of guys. Maybe she was on to something, getting people to loosen up like that. He’d accomplished nothing with that fool a moment ago.

  “What was Fallon mouthing off about now?” Lucas asked.

  Brad turned back to him. “What? Oh, he seems to think I’m guilty of murder.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.” Lucas leaned closer. “You didn’t hear this from me, but he and Duke have never gotten along. Like, ever.”

  “Really?”

  “Duke brought over a fruit basket and wine when those kids rented the Clairborne house. Fallon nearly punched him. I thought it was going to get ugly, but Duke walked away while Fallon shouted obscenities. It was awful — I had to cover Mitzy’s ears.”

  “Did you tell the police about that?”

  Lucas nodded slowly, glancing over at their temperamental neighbor. “They know.”

  “And yet he’s still walking free?”

  “Solid alibi. Not that drunk college kids are trustworthy, but he claims to be in a bunch of selfies and videos. All posted to social media, apparently.”

  “It pays to be a narcissist.”

  “And he doesn’t have the brainpower to pull off a hit. Oh, look. Tristan’s here. I’m so glad he got off work.” Lucas bounced toward the door, turning back toward Brad to say, “Talk to you later!”

  Brad made a mental note to check into Fallon’s alibi. It was likely to hold up, given the cops already knew, but a closer look wouldn’t hurt, especially if it could get him off the hook.

  “Everything okay?” Allison gave him a bright smile.

  Bile rose in his mouth. “Great. Having fun?”

  “The best time.”

  “If you get tired, don’t feel bad about leaving early. We’ll return your decorations.”

  “I’m great.” She stepped closer. “I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion with Fallon.”

  “He’s drunk on wine coolers.”

  “Were you really on a date with Faye the other night?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask?”

  Allison picked a piece of fuzz from her Steelers jersey. “I was busy running errands all evening, and I swear Faye’s car was—”

  “We took mine.”

  “Did you?”

  “It’s roomier.”

  She tilted her head. “Why do you have the nicer car?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Usually, husbands let their wives drive the better car. Not you.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Do I need to spell it out?”

  “No. And not that I owe you an explanation, Faye’s car is the more expensive one. It has more safety features than mine.”

  “Thinking of the kids, I’m sure. Did you pick it out for her? Or did she get a say?”

  Brad marched away, counting silently to twenty. That woman needed to mind her own business. She’d hardly said two words to either of them in months, and now suddenly she was Faye’s guardian angel?

  She was only trying to get under his skin. And same as with Fallon, he wasn’t going to let her.

  Donna stepped in front of him, running a hand through her uneven hairstyle. “Great party.”

  “Glad you approve.”

  Her expression stiffened. “I heard you say that you drove your car the night of the murder?”

  “Yes. Exciting, isn’t it?”

  “It’s interesting because I would swear I saw your car behind the knife shop.”

  Brad narrowed his eyes. “You were back there?”

  “Was it your car? Or one that looks exactly like it?”

  “What were you doing behind the store?”

  “Pardon me?” Donna asked with puppy eyes.

  “The back lot can’t be seen from the road or the main parking area. You have to drive all the way around the building and weave through a maze of dumpsters and a narrow alley.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “I want to know why you were back there. If you were there, it wasn’t by accident.”

  She raised her voice. “Why are you getting so defensive, Brad?”

  Several people turned their way.

  “Defensive? I’m asking a legitimate question. You’re the one refusing to answer.”

  “Did you take your wife on a date to your work?”

  A few others glanced their way.

  He clenched his jaw, counted to ten. “That’s insane.”

  “If Faye’s car was here all night and yours was at your work, where did you take your lovely wife on a date at the same time Duke was murdered?”

  A pair of neighbors inched closer.

  “We took a company car.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “Because I took one of BlueBlade’s vehicles?”

  Donna smirked. “Why take a nondescript sedan when you could’ve painted the town red in that beautiful car you love to show off?”

  “I don’t love — why do you know so much about my boss’s cars?”

  Lisa and Sue joined them, both watching Brad.

  He kept his focus on Donna. “If you must know, Faye and I went to her parents’ cabin. I didn’t want to scratch my car.”

  “You wanted to ruin your boss’s?”

  “It’s already beat up. Who cares?”

  Lisa took another step closer. “How far away is the cabin?”

  “A half hour? Want me to check my mileage?”

  “What time did you go?” Lisa stared him down. “I saw your wife through a window in the front room around seven.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes!” Brad exclaimed. “She was with me.”

  Donna rubbed her chin. “Can you prove it?”

  “Of course.” He waved toward Rose. “We saw my coworker. She’ll tell you all about it. But you’d know that if you were there, wouldn’t you?”

  “Interesting choice of alibi.”

  “Choice?”

  “If Lisa’s right, Faye was here, and you were at work — with that sexy young thing.”

  “Let’s go talk to her.” Donna grabbed Lisa and Sue by their arms. “I’m sure her story matches exactly. I just wonder what Faye thinks of it.”

  “She doesn’t care because we were at the cabin!”

  All three ladies shot him knowing looks.

  “Ask Faye,” he said, throttling his urge to plunge a fist into the wall. “She’ll tell you.”

  Brad swallowed hard.

  This was getting seriously out of control.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Faye’s stomach tightened as she watched Brad and Rose whispering across the room. If they stood any closer, their lips might start touching.

  “He works with her all day?” Allison rested a hand on her arm.

  She pulled her attention from her husband and Rose. “It’s a full shop. Mostly guys.”

  “But still, they’re together all day, every day?”

  “It isn’t like that. And Brad isn’t one to flirt.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.” Allison nibbled a bacon-covered pepper.

  “They aren’t flirting.”

  “Maybe not, but they’re close. Just look at them.”

  “No more than any other coworker.” That was a stretch, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Allison.

  “I don’t see him standing that close to any of the guys who came with her.”

  “He also isn’t talking to any of them right now. And besides, I trust Brad.”

  Allison frowned. “I trusted my first husband, too.”

  Faye gave her a double-take. “You have a first husband?”

  “Yeah, and Wes isn’t him. Jeff was one of those guys who made all the girls feel like the most special person in the room. I told myself he was just charismatic — someone who could hold a conversation with a doorknob. But then I came home early one day.” A dramatic sigh. “The rest is history. Wes and
I are happy. That’s all that matters.”

  Acid churned in her gut.

  Allison smiled brightly. “But if you’ve been together a long time and trust him, I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “Since I was fourteen and he was sixteen.”

  Her mouth fell open. “That long?”

  “We’ve been through everything together. Getting through his dad’s murder made us really close. We’ve stayed tight ever since.”

  “You obviously know him better than I do. He’s never gone out on you before, right?”

  “Exactly.” Jessica Witten’s face sprang to Faye’s mind. She hadn’t thought about her in more than a decade, and now, twice in one night.

  “Perfect. Then Rose is just smitten. He’s probably oblivious. You know how guys are.”

  Faye forced a laugh.

  Allison said, “I’m going to check on the pizza. The timer’s about to go off. Mingle. It’s your party, and you’ve been in the kitchen the whole time.”

  “Good idea.”

  She hated the idea. Taking care of the food kept her away from nosy questions. Every time she spoke about the night of the murder, she was forced into yet another lie. She never should’ve said she was on a date with Brad. Anyone who knew them would rightly raise eyebrows.

  It would’ve been better if she’d just admitted to having cut Duke’s hair right before his death. It would’ve been easy enough to prove her innocence, seeing as she had nothing to do with his death.

  Would it be better or worse to come clean now?

  Worse. Definitely worse. She’d heard Brad telling numerous people about their date. And he’d told her she needed to say they took his car to BlueBlade, where they’d then taken one of the older company cars.

  Everything was spiraling.

  Allison caught her attention and waved her toward the living room.

  Faye joined the guests but then bolted upstairs before speaking to anyone.

  Brad met her gaze. No surprise, since he was eyeing the stairs like a hawk, sure someone would go up to rifle through their things or even steal something.

  Music sounded down the hall.

  She followed it to Hadley’s room. Her stomach dropped. She better not have a boy in there; she knew the rules.

  Faye turned the knob.

  Locked.