by Anna Drake
I swallowed. “Whatever.”
I sometimes suspected Larkin would like us to be much closer than we were. But as far as I was concerned, it was a suggestion doomed to failure. A news reporter and a sheriff’s deputy were like fire and ice — an impossible mix. Besides, Larkin had always been something of a bad boy when it came to women. And if rumors were true, he still was one.
A slow smile spread across Larkin’s face. “Come on.” He motioned to his car. “Let’s get ourselves in out of this wind.”
I didn’t argue. Last night's storm had ushered in a cold front. The temperature difference between yesterday and today had to be at least thirty degrees.
Larkin swung the car door open. I scurried onto the passenger seat. After he’d closed the door, he crossed in front to the driver’s side. Finally, he slid behind the steering wheel and asked, “So what can I do for you this time?”
I shrugged. “I’m chasing rumors.”
“Not about the murder, I hope. ’Cause I got to tell you, I’m not in the loop. The Cloverton Police are handling the case. They’re not likely to share what they know with any of us on the sheriff’s payroll. Besides even if I possessed facts from their investigation, you’d get nothing out of me. It’s police business.”
“I’m not after information on the murder. At least not directly. I can see how you’d be protective of information like that. I’ve just heard this odd comment. I thought maybe you’d caught a reference or two on the subject around town.”
As a reporter I'd quickly learned that cops were better at scooping up and passing along stray stories than little old ladies armed with knitting needles.
Larkin blinked. “Odd comment?”
“Yeah. It was something Bella Gravits said.”
Larkin folded his arms and looked at me expectantly. He didn’t like Bella much, although I had no idea why she was in disfavor with him.
“So what rumor are you pursuing?"
“I had dinner at her restaurant last night, and she made a point of teasing a fellow about his behavior at Gary's bachelor party.”
“Which guy?"
"His name is Tony Stepich. He was Gary's best man."
“So why were you having dinner with him?”
“It was Devon’s idea.”
“He’s the fellow who wrapped himself around you in the parking lot, right?”
“Yes.”
Larkin frowned. “So what were you three up to?”
What was with this guy? He sounded just like Dad. “Nothing much. We were just being neighborly. I wanted to thank Devon for his good deed in the parking lot and the two of us thought Stepich, being on his own here also, might like to tag along.”
“So you were only being thoughtful? I got that right?”
“Listen, what we were doing there doesn’t matter. What matters is that Bella took one look at Stepich and remembered him from Gary’s bachelor party.”
“So?”
“So don’t you think he must have done something rather spectacular to be remembered by Bella like that?”
“And you think his behavior might tie in with why Gary was murdered?”
I squirmed under the weight of Larkin’s penetrating stare. “I don’t know, maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for information on Gary’s death. I just wondered what had happened and if you knew. I thought I might be able to help Cordelia if something ever surfaced about the event. That’s all. She’s been through enough, If I can shield her from anymore trauma, I feel duty bound to try.”
Larkin sighed. “As much as I might dislike the woman, the fact is Bella’s excellent at what she does. Remembering customers is part of her job description. Trust me, if something is important to the health of her restaurant, you can bet she’s going to remember it. You’ve gotta understand. Bella would sell her soul for a nickel. And that son of hers is worse than she is.”
“But,” I protested, “it was the way she delivered the line, and the fact that Stepich’s face turned thirteen shades of red when hearing it.”
“So maybe Stepich got a little blotto and made a fool out of himself. These things happen. And if that kind of behavior became the motive for a murder, it would be the first time ever. Lots of men make fools of themselves at these things. In some ways it’s what those kinds of parties are for. But few men are killed for it. That is unless they’re married.”
I elected to overlook the sarcasm. "Then, you haven't heard any rumors about the party?”
Larkin shook his head. "Melanie, what are you up to? You're not poking your nose into an active murder investigation, are you? 'Cause if you are, I'm here to warn you off. There's a killer on the loose. I don't want you to become a target. Nor do I want to have to lock you up for interfering in a murder investigation."
"Please, you don’t need to go over protective on me. Dad’s already beaten you to it.”
He chuckled. “I hear he’s pulled you off the murder story.”
"Oh swell, does the whole town know?"
“Among some of us, it’s common knowledge, yeah. I always suspected there was a reason I liked your father. I think you should be glad he’s on top of this thing.”
I felt my face flush. "Look, will you keep an ear tuned for rumors about Stepich for me or not?"
"I’m taking a pass this time, Melanie. I don't want you anywhere near this murder investigation. I kinda like you, and I’d like you to stay alive for a while. Maybe even watch you start a family of your own someday.”
My jaw dropped. This was the first time Larkin had ever denied me anything. I felt a flash of bitter anger shoot through me. "All right,” I said in a huff. “I guess we're done here."
"For today, yeah. I agree."
I glared at the man and jerked the car door open, stepping outside into the brisk, chill wind.
All my life, I’d thought the phrase seeing red was little more than words, but at that instant I learned the reality behind the saying.
Giving myself a shake, I climbed into my car and fired up the engine. I revved the motor a couple of times trying to make a statement.
The nerve of the guy.
If I hadn’t been certain I’d need his help again sometime in the future, I’d have terminated our relationship right there and then. Slamming the accelerator all the way to the floorboard, I sped away, tires spinning. In my rearview mirror, I watched with satisfaction as my wheels flung dirt and clumps of bright green grass onto Larkin’s windshield.
Take that, I thought.
***
By the time I returned to Cloverton, I’d at least calmed down enough to handle my next task. I intended to stop at Cordelia’s house to check on her progress. I found her still shut up in her bedroom and still seated in her rocking chair. But at least today, the window shade was up, and her makeup had been applied.
She glanced over at me. “What’s it like out there?” Her gaze returned to the view beyond the window.
“There’s a nasty wind, and last night’s storm cooled things off. It feels more like March than late April. But as you can see the sun is shining. I’m even willing to escort you around the grounds if you’d like to venture outside.”
“Thanks, but I can wait.”
I slipped out of my jacket and laid it and my purse on the neatly made bed. “How are you, then?”
Something close to a smile slipped onto her face. “Grateful. Thanks to your advice, I managed to get some sleep last night. I think it’s helped.”
I silently agreed. At least her color was better today. I pulled the desk chair up next to her rocker. “Is there any talk yet of the funeral?”
Cordelia frowned. “The police haven’t said yet when they’ll release the body. I have been informed, though, that you found… ah… Gary.” She shivered. “I’m so sorry. That must have been an awful ordeal for you to go through.”
“It wasn’t easy, but I’m a tough old bird. I’ll live.”
“I’m not sure I will. The police chief stopped by this mor
ning. As you suggested, he wanted to know if I could think of anyone who had a reason to kill Gary. What could I say? Everybody loved him.”
“I know. I’ve wrestled with that question too, but I still haven’t come up with anything that makes sense. Somewhere out there, though, there must be a reason.”
My friend lifted her chin belligerently. “I can’t think what it is.”
“I understand. But how much do you know about Tony Stepich?”
Cordelia looked at me aghast. “Tony? You can’t seriously think he murdered Gary. They were fast friends. Had been since college. Gary almost took a job in New York City just because of his friendship with Tony.”
“That may be true. But you still haven’t told me what you think of the man.”
My friend shook her head. “Melanie, please, don't do this. Gary’s dead. I don’t want to think about who killed him. That’s the sheriff’s job. Let’s drop this discussion. Okay? Besides, what’s your beef with Tony?”
“I’m not sure. We went out to dinner last night. Something about the guy just didn’t sit right with me.”
“He has a big city attitude, that’s all. New Yorkers don't have to be quite so careful about fitting in as do those of us who live in small towns. They’re allowed to be a little larger than life. Nobody cares in a city.”
“You call it attitude. But I was awfully close to thinking him rude.”
Cordelia sighed. “Is it always going to be like this?
“Like what?”
“The police chief grilling me about enemies? You questioning me about Gary’s friends? My family looking at me like I might blow away in the next puff of wind?”
I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I have to believe life will get better. As they say, time heals.”
“Then I wish time would speed up for me. I’m in so much pain.”
I took her hand in mine. “If it helps, I doubt you'll see Gossford again. And I promise to keep my lip zipped. I’ve been thoughtless. Forgive me?”
“There’s absolutely nothing for me to forgive you for. If I feel at all better today, it’s because of you.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “You’re giving me too much credit. But as to your family, I’m sure they’ll breathe a whole lot easier when they see you sleeping and eating normally again.”
“So more time, then?”
Knowing how worried Cordelia was about staying loyal to Gary’s memory, I decided to shift the subject. “Speaking of your parents, how are they?”
“They’re okay.”
“And Zach?”
Her baby brother was a change-of-life baby who’d been spoiled nearly to ruin by Cordelia and her folks. On top of that, he'd idolized Gary.
Cordelia’s brows contracted into a worried frown. “Would you do me a favor? Look Zach up on your way out. Give him a bucking up? Mom and Dad are swell. But a fresh voice and face might help.”
“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Thank you.” Cordelia pulled a deep breath. “I talked to Gary’s folks this morning. They told me even though the wedding didn’t happen, they’ll always consider me their daughter.” Light from the window glinted off fresh tears which now pooled in her gray eyes.
“They’re good people,” I offered.
“Yes, which makes all of this even more terrible. They lost a son. I lost a man who would have been my husband.” Cordelia glanced about the room. “I was supposed to be off on my honeymoon today. Switzerland. That’s where Gary was taking me.”
“Oh, dear heart.” I pulled her to me.
And as I sat there holding her, I thought of all the uncomfortable facts I’d learned since Gary’s death. The questionable bachelor party. The last minute phone call. My dislike of Stepich. Even Ginger's suspicions of Josh. The items were all eating at me. And they were all things I couldn’t possibly discuss with Cordelia.
She didn't want to know, and she was probably better off for keeping out of the fray. But I missed our easy give and take on life. Before Gary’s death, there’d been nothing we couldn’t discuss.
***
After parting with Cordelia, I found Zach hunkered down in the downstairs family room. Nearly twelve, he was beginning to show signs of the tall man I was sure he’d one day become. But for the present he was merely plump and awkward and tending toward spots. He sat before his game player, lost in the world of Spider-Man, whose image was swinging its way on a game-player screen before him.
“Hey.” I said. “How’s it going?”
Zach raised a questioning eyebrow. “What’s it to you?”
Ah, children, I thought. Zach was sometimes enough of a stinker to make me glad I was an only child. Still, he’d suffered a loss. He had to be hurting, too.
“I’m just checking in. You lost a potential brother-in-law in this mess. I thought I’d stop for a minute to see how you’re doing. Do you think you can put up with a little kindness from your sister’s best friend?”
Zach dipped his head for a brief moment. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“So?”
He pulled his gaze up to mine. “So what?”
I shook my head in frustration. “How are you?”
He treated me to a half smile. “I’m okay.”
“I’m glad to hear it. May I sit down?”
Zack flicked his gaze back to Spider-Man. “Ah… sure. Why not?”
“I won’t take long. I promise.”
“Suit yourself.”
I perched on the edge of the sofa and tucked my hands between my knees. Zach remained tightly focused on the screen. The super hero returned to his antics, swinging his way through dark, mean streets.
“I think your sister’s a little better today.”
Josh smiled slightly. “That’s good.”
“She might like to hear those words from you.”
Silence reigned for a brief moment.
“Hello, Zach,” I tried again. “Would you at least think about going up to see her? She’s worried sick about you. I’m here now because she asked me to track you down.”
His face flushed. I hoped I hadn’t been too heavy-handed with the child. What did I know about youthful egos? “Did the police chief talk to you this morning?”
Zach’s head bobbed up and down. “That dude’s spooky.” Zach shot me a glance out of the corner of his eye. “But it was a waste of time. I don’t know anything. I didn’t talk to Gary at all yesterday.”
“But you were an usher, right?”
“Yep.”
“That means you had to be at the church early?”
"Yeah."
"Were Gary and Tony there already?"
"Sure. They were down front."
"Then you saw Gary leave the building?"
"Yep."
"Did he speak to you on his way out?"
"Nope." Zach’s head jerked my way, his eyes round. “Gossford asked me about all this stuff, too. What's with that? Are you pumping me for a news story? I sure hope not. I don't want my name mentioned in the newspaper. Not in a story about Gary, I don’t.”
"No, I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. I'm just curious, that's all."
Zach retreated back to the safety of his video game and said over his shoulder, “Well, you’re a reporter. I suppose you’re naturally nosy."
I stifled a giggle. The kid obviously had me figured out. “How about the bachelor party? Do you have any idea of how that went?”
The expression on Zach's face told me he thought I was probably only mildly intelligent. “I wasn't old enough to go. I wasn’t even invited." His tone suggested he was still miffed at his fate.
"Have you heard any stories about it? Any tales of guests behaving badly?”
Zach's head jerked my direction, his eyes large, his expression showing an intense, sudden interest in our conversation. "No, why? What happened?"
I raised my hands in frustration. "I don't know that anything did. I just wondered if you'd heard any stra
y gossip. That's all."
"Huh." His gaze shot back to the game. He was obviously fls a know-nothing woman, a waste of good oxygen, if you will.
I sat there a moment, watching the boy's face as he continued to put his hero through his paces. Then, admitting defeat, I rose to leave.
"Go see your sister," I said on my way out the door.
“Yeah,” he said, head bobbing up and down. “I will.”
SIX
Preparing to depart from Cordelia’s house that day, I summed up our gains, and felt Ginger and I had made none. Despite our best efforts, we hadn’t dredged up a single fact to help us make sense of Gary's death.
Larkin had blown me off. Cordelia wasn't interested in my questions, and Zach probably thought I was dumber than Spiderman’s big toe. On top of that, Candy Collins, the missing waitress, remained a no show. So movement on that front was stalled as well. I rammed my key into its slot, fired up the car, and pointed its nose toward home.
When I arrived there, I found Dad prepping dinner in the kitchen. He'd become head chef and bottle washer of our two-person household after mom died. Being so young then, I could barely remember her now. What few memories I recalled were fuzzy. I also suspected that I might have invented them to cover the void left after her death.
At least I knew her photos were real. From them I'd learned she’d been a tiny woman, and from the looks she cast on my father in those pictures, I suspected she’d obviously adored Dad.
That was not an unusual condition. Even nearing sixty, Father was still an extremely handsome man. Over the years I’d seen lots of women send longing glances his way.
Behind me, the refrigerator motor ticked on. Dad glanced up from his work. “Everything okay with you?”
“Sure.” I rescued a carrot stick from beneath his knife. “Has Gossford coughed up anything new on the murder for tomorrow's edition?”
Dad frowned. “Not yet.”
I understood his discomfort. Writing up the murder story had to be job one with him, and I doubted he'd be shy about pushing Gossford to give him something new. I wondered if there was nothing to be had, or if the chief was strategically withholding information?
