Verse and Vengeance

by Amanda Flower

  I swallowed. All the words I wanted to say were caught in my throat.

  “When Redding found her, she finally called me. She was afraid. Of course I dropped everything and brought her and Aster home.”

  I didn’t say it, but that gave Danielle motive. It also gave Rainwater motive. I wondered if the reason neither of them was being questioned was because the man next to me was the one asking the questions.

  “So you knew Redding before he came to Cascade Springs last year, before he tried to pin another murder on Lacey?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t know that it was the same P.I. who had tracked my sister down. She didn’t know his name and never saw him in the village. She wasn’t in the café the times that he dropped by to speak to Lacey, so she didn’t alert me it was the same man.”

  “Do you know why she would be talking to Redding before the race?”

  “She was scared. She thought he was there because Bryant sent him after her again. She was asking him to leave the village, to leave her alone.”

  “But Redding denied that?” I was assuming things at this point and wanted David to provide the specific details instead.

  He nodded. “According to my sister, he said his visit to the village had nothing to do with her. He said he hadn’t even known she was in Cascade Springs. Danielle took his word for it and went back to the café.”

  “Danielle told you all that?”

  He scowled at me. “Yes, and she doesn’t have any reason to lie about it.”

  “Except that her ex-husband had died just a few days before.”

  “She didn’t know that it was Bryant who went over the Falls. No one knew until after Redding was killed.”

  Obviously, Danielle would have known if she’d had something to do with Bryant’s death and then maybe with Redding’s too. I knew Rainwater must have seen the potential of trouble for his sister, even if he refused to admit it to me. He was a good cop, and even more, he was a smart man.

  Rainwater ran his hand back and forth through his black hair. “I don’t know how, but I have a feeling that these two deaths are connected. I just can’t make sense of it.”

  “It seems to me that Redding is the tie.” I almost added that it seemed to me his sister was the tie, but I didn’t have to say it. I knew Rainwater already knew that.

  He dropped his hand. “Do you know what the worst part of this is?”

  I shook my head. The lights around the Falls were starting to blink on.

  “The worst part of this is Danielle still loves him, and she blames herself that he’s dead. Now she will have to carry that guilt with her, even if she did nothing wrong and even if the guilt is misplaced, which it is.”

  “But he hit her. He sent a private investigator after her,” I said. “How can she still love him?”

  He glared at me. “I’m not saying it’s rational. But I know from watching my sister and being a police officer that whatever my sister’s relationship with Bryant was, it wasn’t real love, not selfless love. However, knowing that doesn’t change how she feels about him.”

  I held up my hands as if in surrender. “I’m sorry. I can’t know how she must feel.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “I know. I’m sorry for becoming angry with you. I just want Danielle and Aster to be safe. I want all the women I love to be safe.” He kissed the top of my head.

  As we walked away from the Falls, I thought about who “all the women” Rainwater loved must be.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rainwater and I walked back to my car in silence, both lost in our thoughts. I didn’t know what Rainwater was thinking when we walked through the park. His sister would be my best guess, but I was thinking of Walt Whitman. Whitman had visited the famous Falls on at least two occasions, once before the Civil War as a young man and once as an old man.

  In the nineteenth century, Niagara Falls was one the most recognizable landmarks in the country. Travelers came from all over to see its majestic waters. In Whitman’s day, the Falls were even more powerful than they are today. None of the water was dammed off to harness its power for electricity. The water poured undisturbed over the cliff, just as it had for thousands of years.

  Whitman, with dreams of being the first great American poet, loved to wax on about the great vista and landmarks of the country to show its wonders and size. Naturally, Niagara Falls was on his list of landmarks to praise.

  As we reached my car, Rainwater said, “I can drive.”

  I gladly handed over my keys. I was too deep in thought to insist on driving my car back to the village, and it would be nice to allow my mind to wander. Thankfully, when I opened the passenger side door, I saw Emerson just where I had left him. I picked him up and took my seat, settling the little tuxie on my lap.

  The sun was starting to set. Charming Books would close soon. I shot my grandmother a text asking her to close up the shop for Richard and promised I would be there as soon as I could.

  As we rolled out of the parking lot, Rainwater said, “You’ve been awfully quiet. What are you thinking about?”

  “Dead poets,” I answered honestly.

  He chuckled. “I thought you were going to say murder, but that sounds about right.”

  He didn’t know that, for me, many times dead poets are related to murder.

  “You are thinking of Walt Whitman, aren’t you?”

  I started and turned to the police chief. “How did you know that?”

  “Leaves of Grass was found with Redding’s body.”

  I shivered. That was right. I didn’t know how I could have forgotten. I knew, or hoped I knew, that the shop’s essence didn’t work outside the shop. The book was on Redding’s person before he died because Redding had bought it at the shop, as Richard said. I didn’t know why he had bought the title, the same title the shop’s essence had revealed to me again and again.

  “And,” Rainwater went on, “we were at Niagara Falls, a place Whitman wrote about many times. He was fascinated with the power of the place. ‘Under Niagara, the cataract falling like a veil over my countenance.’ That’s from ‘Song of Myself.’”

  “I know,” I said, staring openly at him. “How do you know?”

  “You know that I always wanted to be a writer, but I don’t think I ever told you that I studied literature in school. I was an English major in college before I changed course and went into the police academy.”

  “I hadn’t known that,” I said. “Why haven’t you ever told me before?”

  He gave me a half smile. “It feels a little strange to admit you know a bit about literature to a person who has spent her entire life studying it. I suppose I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of a scholar, especially a scholar I wanted to impress.”

  A flush crept onto my cheeks. Rainwater had wanted to impress me even when we first met? This caught me by surprise. The first time we’d met, he had thought I’d killed a man, or at least covered up the fact that Grandma Daisy had killed a man. We had both been proven innocent, of course, but still it seemed to me that would have been a rocky start. “And now you are all right revealing your education to me?” I asked, doing my best to cover my embarrassment, but I knew that with my pale skin and red-blonde hair, it was a pointless attempt.

  He laughed. “I suppose I think you know me well enough now that you won’t judge me as harshly.”

  “I wouldn’t judge you at all,” I said quietly, and stroked Emerson’s back. The tuxie began to purr. As he did, he watched Rainwater intently. It was almost like he was following the conversation too.

  “I know that now,” he said. “You’re not like some academics that I have known. Not counting Richard, of course. He’s always kind.”

  I nodded. Truer words had never been said about the department chair. I supposed that was why I wanted so badly for him to tell Renee how he felt. They were both good people, and I wanted them to be happy. If they could be happy together, all the better.

  “Do you have
any guesses as to why Redding had that book in his possession?” Rainwater asked.

  “There’s nothing to say that the man didn’t have a taste for poetry.”

  Rainwater shook his head. “Maybe, but he bought the book at your shop.”

  “Did Richard tell you that?”

  Rainwater shook his head. “He didn’t have to. Redding’s credit card statements did the talking. That book was the last item he purchased before he died, and right after that purchase he went to the Riverwalk, had a heated conversation with my sister, got a bike from Jo, and took off in the race during which he died.”

  “So the question is, who tampered with the bike, knowing that Jo was going to give it to him.”

  “Jo Fitzgerald is the most likely suspect. She was the one who was there with the bike. She was also alone with the bikes while Bobby was away from the registration desk.”

  I frowned. “Bobby was alone with the bikes as well.”

  “Violet, I know that you don’t want one of your students to be involved, but she had the best opportunity to tamper with the bikes.”

  “She’s not just my student; she’s my friend. Besides, she doesn’t have a motive.”

  He frowned. “You have me there. Murder does usually come down to motive. It’s the driving force.”

  I let out a breath. Maybe he wasn’t completely sure that Jo was behind the murder. There was no practical reason for her to do it. “Who are the other people who might have wanted Redding out of the way?”

  “The problem with Redding is he has a long list of enemies. The Niagara Falls police have been helping me follow leads as they can, but they have a big caseload and can’t dedicate that much time to it.”

  “Who are his enemies?”

  “Who wasn’t? The man exceled in finding cheating spouses—that was where the majority of his cases came from. He was known in the region as the go-to guy if you wanted a divorce. There is a long list of former husbands and wives who aren’t heartbroken over his death.”

  “Was he getting threats from any of them?”

  He shook his head. “Not that we could find, but overall, Redding’s files, both paper and digital, were very thin. It seemed that he kept most of his information about his cases in his head. That information is gone now.”

  That sounded like Redding to me. If he was secretive enough that he wouldn’t tell his apprentice investigator why he was interested in me, then it was unlikely he’d recorded it anywhere Scotty could find it. This was a relief, but it was maddening when trying to find out who might have wanted to kill him.

  Rainwater held the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

  “What is it?”

  “I want to tell you more about the case.”

  “I’m happy to listen.”

  He glanced at me. His amber eyes were the unreadable glass again. “I know, but it is my hope that when you hear how complicated it is, you’ll let me handle it.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  Rainwater sighed, and I assumed that meant he wasn’t going to say anything more about it. Then after a beat, he said, “Redding may be an expert on cheating spouses because he has experience in it personally.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “His ex-wife had two restraining orders out on him over the course of the last year. There were countless domestic calls to their home when they were married.”

  “About what?” I bit my lip. “Did he hurt her?”

  He shook his head. “The contrary, actually. She’s a volatile person, and the calls were on her. From the police reports I read, she believed he was cheating while they were married.”

  “Was he?”

  “He denied it. There was no evidence that he was. No woman ever came forward.”

  I thought about that for a minute. Could there be some scorned lover in Redding’s past who’d tampered with his bike to exact her revenge?

  “How long has he been divorced?”

  “At least five years.”

  I frowned. That was a long time to wait to exact revenge, although it wasn’t unheard of.

  I shivered and touched my arm where Scotty had held me. “Scotty has to be a suspect too. I got the feeling in our brief encounter.”

  “Scotty is a suspect for a lot of things. He’s not a good guy, but he has an alibi.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Part of his parole is living at a halfway house. Curfew was at eight. He was in the house until eight the next morning. There was no way he could make it to Cascade Springs and tamper with the bike before the race started at eight thirty.”

  “But couldn’t the bike have been tampered with at any time? We keep thinking that it happened the morning of the race, but we don’t really know that.”

  “We think that because Bobby insisted that he checked all the bikes to make sure they were in perfect working order before the race.”

  “That’s Bobby’s word, and Bobby is a suspect.”

  Rainwater sighed. “You aren’t saying anything that I haven’t already considered.”

  “There has to be something you haven’t considered, something that we’re both missing.”

  He glanced at me. “If anyone can figure out what that is, it will be you.” He didn’t say it like it was a compliment.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The rest of the ride back to the village, Rainwater and I were lost in our thoughts. Emerson appeared to be contemplating something too, but it seemed to me the little tuxie was always considering what sort of trouble he could get into.

  Rainwater parked my Mini under the gas lamppost in front of Charming Books. “I should go,” David said.

  “The lights are still on in the store. I think Richard and maybe Grandma Daisy must still be here. Why don’t you come in and say hello?”

  He smiled. “Since it might be Daisy, I will. She would never forgive me if I just snuck off without saying hi.”

  I smiled and opened my door. Emerson jumped off my lap and disappeared into the shrubs around the side of the house. I wasn’t too worried about him wandering off here, since he was back in his element.

  Before I could get out of the car, Rainwater grabbed my hand and held me in place. “Please, Violet, be more careful. If for nothing else, for me.”

  I stared into his eyes. This time the barrier wasn’t up, and I could see that he meant every word. I swallowed hard. “I’ll try to be more careful.”

  He kissed me softly on the mouth. “Thank you.” He let go of my hand and got out of the car.

  I took a deep breath and got out too.

  When Rainwater and I stepped into the shop, I pulled up short.

  “Violet, are you okay?” he whispered in my ear.

  His strong hand was on my back. My grandmother and Fenimore were sitting in front of the quiet fireplace drinking tea. Fenimore’s guitar leaned up against the hearth like that was where it belonged. Beside it on the floor were two black guitar cases. One was worn and the other looked new. I recognized them both.

  Grandma Daisy looked up at us with a smile. “Violet, you didn’t tell me you invited Fenimore over for a visit.”

  I swallowed and looked around the room for any sign of Richard.

  As if she could read my mind, Grandma Daisy said, “Richard is gone for the day. I closed up the shop like you asked when you weren’t back. Richard was very eager to return home and read all the books he miraculously found in our store. He is quite impressed with our collection.”

  I bet he was, I thought, resisting the urge to glance at the tree.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” Grandma Daisy said. “But I told Fenimore that we shouldn’t begin until you were here. We have had a nice visit talking about his music in the meantime. You might be surprised that he’s recorded an album.”

  Fenimore blushed. “It was over twenty years ago. I went to Nashville with high-minded dreams. It was just some folk music.”

  “I was just telling him he should release it on the Int
ernet.” She smiled. “I’m sure Violet knows someone from the college who can help you with that.”

  I did know people at the college who could help him with that, but I wasn’t in the right mind-set to be helping Fenimore out with much of anything just yet. I needed a bit of time.

  Rainwater looked at Fenimore and then my grandmother. “Should I leave? Is there some kind of problem here?”

  “There’s no problem.” I grabbed his hand. “And please stay. I want you here.”

  Fenimore looked at our intertwined hands, and an expression of understanding dawned on his face.

  “Violet, what’s going on?” Rainwater whispered. He sounded so tired and concerned at the same time. I knew Danielle’s situation with the murder investigation must be weighing heavily on him. I debated letting him leave so as not to burden him with my own troubles. Then I realized that would be the last thing he wanted me to do.

  “You shared your complicated family with me. Now I need to share mine with you,” I whispered back, and then I pulled him toward the fireplace. “David Rainwater, this is Fenimore James.”

  Rainwater nodded. “I know Fenimore from the times he’s played his guitar in the village.”

  I gave him a half smile. “I know you do. What you don’t know is Fenimore is my father.”

  Fenimore stood up from the sofa where he had been sitting and held his hand out to the police chief. “It’s very good to officially meet you, David. Daisy here has been singing your praises.” He shared his smile with me too. “Actually, she’s been singing the praises of both you and Violet.”

  Rainwater smiled and seemed to have recovered from the initial shock of hearing who Fenimore was. “I’m sure she has, but Daisy is pretty amazing herself. The first female mayor of the village.”

  My grandmother grinned. “And over seventy too. Better late than never.” She patted the seat beside her. “Sit, sit! Fenimore has something to tell us.”