Girl With The Origami Butterfly

by Linda Berry

  “How’d your session go?” he asked his sister, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

  “Painful.” Becky leaned into him, seeming to take comfort in his presence. “I talked about Joey. We all talked about Sammy.”

  For a moment, a long moment, he stood utterly still. The muscles tightened around his mouth, then relaxed. Selena was certain he felt a surge of anger and had suppressed it.

  “You knew her?” Selena asked.

  “Yeah, I knew Sammy. Like you said, small town.” His cool tone warned Selena not to pursue the topic.

  “Personal friend?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  “Family friend. Becky and I used to play tennis with her parents. Doubles.”

  Before the topic of Sammy could be probed further, Becky changed the subject in an awkward segue. “I’m starved. How about we grab some lunch. I’m craving curry. We could try the new Thai place that just opened.”

  “We can do that.” Derek smiled down at Becky. His expression relaxed, and Selena saw the exchange of genuine affection between the two.

  “What are you ladies up to?” His gaze traveled to Ann and came to rest on Selena. “Care to join us? My treat. Spicy food. Cold beer.”

  “I love Thai food,” Ann said.

  “Me, too. That’s a tempting offer, but we need to get back to the farm,” Selena said, speaking for Ann as well. “We have a lot of bookkeeping to do.”

  Derek regarded her with a serious, searching gaze, and then said graciously, “Well, another time then.”

  “Sure thing. Let us know how you like their curry.”

  Derek flashed a smile that gave Selena a little pleasurable twinge in her belly. He opened the door for Becky, and with a little wave, she sank into the passenger seat. Derek pulled out into the traffic lane, the stirring concerto filling the air and fading down Lake Street.

  “Why didn’t you want to go to lunch?” Sounding annoyed, Ann pushed her hands deep into her jacket pockets. “He was treating.”

  “I don’t want to encourage him. He’s getting a little personal in yoga class. I think he wants to ask me out.”

  Ann stiffened, her typical reflex when imagining intimacy with a man. “You don’t need that right now.”

  “No, I don’t.” Selena steered Ann toward her green Jeep, the last vehicle in the parking lot, now covered in mottled orange leaves drifting from the giant oaks. The wind carried the fresh scent of the forest and felt cool on her skin.

  “He certainly has a nice build,” Ann said.

  “His face isn’t bad, either. One side of it, anyway.” Selena pressed the remote button and the door locks clicked open.

  “Are those burn scars?” Ann asked, strapping herself in.

  “Yeah. He was in a car accident a few years back. He recently moved back to town.”

  Ann put a finger to her mouth. “Hmmm. Is his last name Brent?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I remember that accident. Horrible. He lost control of his car. It hit a tree and caught fire. He was trapped inside. A truck driver dragged him out just before the car exploded. Derek was severely mangled and burned.” She glanced at Selena. “Happened just down the highway from my place.”

  “He lives near you?”

  “About two miles north. Strange. That truck driver never should have been there, but he happened to leave work ten minutes late that day. No one else was on the road.”

  “Wow. Pulled from the jaws of death. That could make a nonbeliever see Jesus.”

  “Amen. He used to be the pianist at the Episcopal church.”

  “I remember seeing a few of their concerts.”

  “Heck of a musician. Could play anything. Now that I think about it, his singing partner was Mimi Matsui.”

  Selena mulled this over. “He must’ve been devastated when she was killed.”

  “I’m sure he was. He was in the accident three weeks later. Terrible time in his life.” She paused. “He sure made a miraculous recovery.”

  “He’s a very motivated guy. He pushes himself hard in my yoga class.” Selena sat for a minute, contemplating the steering wheel and thinking about Derek. “Don’t you think it’s odd, Ann, that Derek knew both murdered women?”

  “Lots of people knew both women.”

  “You’re right. Probably nothing to it.” She started the engine, pulled out of the lot, and headed down the highway. “I have to get going after lunch. I’m sorry to leave you alone, but I promised Sidney I’d go to a function at the Art Studio. I won’t stay long.”

  “I’m a big girl, Selena. I can stay home alone.” Her mouth tilted upwards. “Besides, now I have some muscle.”

  “Bailey?” Selena asked dubiously. “He’s knocked out on pain pills most of the time.”

  “I mean the .22 you left me.”

  “Don’t let a gun give you a false sense of security. Keep the doors and windows locked. Don’t wander around outside. Especially after dark.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ann laughed, deep and throaty. “I know the drill.”

  It was like music to hear Ann laugh again. “How’s Arthur?”

  “Fine. He’ll come home in a couple days.”

  “That was awesome that Miko rushed over to help you and drove you to the vet. I’m glad you have a connection with your neighbors.” She swallowed, thinking of Noah shooting Arthur. Cold-hearted bastard. “One neighbor, anyway.”

  “I’m not worried about Noah. I have a gun. I’ll be fine.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  SELENA SHOWERED, PUT ON her makeup, and tried to psych herself up for the night’s social event. Maybe it was time to practice mating strategies. Single for the first time in eighteen years, she didn’t have a clue how to flirt with men or date.

  The art happening called for dressy casual. Selena decided on a wine-red halter dress that Randy used to call her “let’s have sex dress.” The silky fabric hugged her frame, and bared her back and shoulders, and was short enough to show off her toned legs. Studying herself in the mirror, she tried different facial gestures, smiles, and head tilts. She reminded herself to keep her shoulders back, chest out, stomach in.

  She looked good on the outside. On the inside, she cringed. She preferred to stay home, stretched out on the couch with the four cats piled on top of her, eating popcorn and watching sappy romances, nursing her heartache. But she’d promised Sidney. She could hear her sister’s blow dryer in the other bathroom. Sidney needed this. Her first romantic venture since she came home two years ago, heartbroken over Gable.

  Suck it up. I’m doing this.

  Selena crossed the room to her dresser and saw that her three-tiered jewelry box was open. She always left it closed. Sidney must have been looking for something. A thin stream of cold air touched her back. The window was open. She shut it, latched it tight, and gazed at the yard below, nostalgic for her mother.

  Over the years, she and her mother had planted maple and apple trees, myriad flowerbeds, and carved straight, clean furrows for the large, productive vegetable garden. They spent many happy hours together kneeling in fertile soil, gloved hands weeding, planting, harvesting. This was Molly’s favorite time of year. The colors of autumn were stunning. In her mother’s absence, Nature continued to perform her seasonal duties, irrespective of humans and their unceasing problems. If it weren’t for Ann’s dilemma, Selena would have visited her mother today at the memory center and taken her homemade cookies. Hopefully, she would find time tomorrow.

  “Ready?”

  Selena turned to see Sidney standing in the doorway. She wore a formfitting black dress that highlighted her shapely figure, and was accented with a freshwater pearl necklace and sparkly drop earrings. Perfect. Sexy, and elegant. Released from its perpetual ponytail, her thick auburn hair fell in lustrous waves around her shoulders. “Wow, you look amazing. This poor mystery man won’t know what hit him.”

  “Thanks. I needed to hear that.” Sidney beamed. “You’re wearing your killer d
ress. Men are going to be drooling over you all night. Ready for that kind of attention?”

  “Nope.” She meant it. “But I’ll grin and bear it.” Selena checked her makeup, hung a tiny beaded handbag from her shoulder, just big enough for a lipstick and comb, and followed Sidney out to the Yukon.

  〜 〜

  The Art Studio was crowded by the time Sidney and Selena arrived. The large classroom had been divided into spacious corridors by movable walls, and people stood in small groups holding drinks, talking in soft tones, and admiring the displayed art. Gentle cello music drifted behind the drone of voices, and in one corner two men in white shirts and bowties busily poured drinks behind a bar.

  Sidney recognized many of the top-tier citizens, including Mayor Burke and his wife, Cecille, a few council members, and many business owners. Jeff Norcross from the Daily Buzz snapped pictures of VIPs for the society page. Men were dressed in slacks and shirts with open collars. Most of the women wore stylish dresses and heels, a few wore pantsuits, and one lady looked very artsy in a brightly flowered kimono and silk leggings.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Selena said a little stiffly and hurriedly. “I need stamina to get through this gauntlet.”

  Sidney rarely drank. Even during off hours, she was on call and needed to be clearheaded to face an emergency. She was an ace at making one glass of wine last a whole evening.

  After the bartender splashed Chardonnay into their plastic glasses, Selena gulped down half and had it refilled. Though her sister had insisted she was fine, Sidney sensed her underlying melancholy and recognized her attempt to take the edge off the ache in her heart. They migrated to the buffet table.

  “Classy,” Selena said, eyes brightening, examining the hors d’oeuvres like a scientist over petri dishes. “Caviar and crème fraiche on brioche, asparagus quiche, and what’s this?” She picked up a slender cracker, spread it with chunky mystery dip, and took a bite. “Hmmm. Fresh lobster salad… with just a touch of tarragon.” She nibbled as delicately as a rabbit. “Try some. You don’t get hors d’oeuvres like this every day.”

  “Nope. Not eating. It took me too long to get my lipstick this perfect.” Plus, Sidney didn’t want food between her teeth when she saw David.

  “Worth it,” Selena said. “You look sensational.”

  “I agree,” a man’s voice murmured behind Sidney’s right shoulder. “You clean up nice, Chief.”

  Sidney turned to find David standing next to her, his smile spreading to his warm brown eyes. He wore dark slacks, a blue Oxford shirt, and Italian loafers. His expertly tousled hair and shadow of a beard gave him the look of a man who lived well and would be at home anywhere in the world. At the same time, his manner was approachable, even playful.

  “I’ve been watching for you all evening,” he said with a lazy smile. “You like to keep a man waiting.”

  She smiled back. “Fashionably late. It’s an art.”

  That seemed to amuse him, and he regarded her quite openly, looking at her shoulders and throat with admiration. She introduced him to Selena who was taking a sip from her glass, her cool green eyes peering over the rim, sharp and evaluating.

  David arched a single brow. “Selena as in ‘Selena’s Kitchen?’”

  “One and the same.”

  “I buy your products,” he said with enthusiasm. “Your chili honey has a real kick. I blend it in my cocktails, and I use your pear and pomegranate vinegar in my salad dressing. Haven’t tried your lavender honey yet. Any suggestions?”

  Selena brightened like a beaten dog lured out of the doghouse with the promise of sirloin. “I use it to make rosemary lavender crumb cake and shortbread cookies. It’s also great in lemonade.”

  “I’d love those recipes.”

  “They’re on my website, which is posted on the labels.”

  Sidney listened, amused. David seemed to know his way around a kitchen. Always a plus in a man.

  Their attention was abruptly drawn to a noisy fuss at the front door as several prominent citizens, including Mayor Burke and his wife, crowded around two new arrivals. Sidney recognized them immediately. James and Reese Abbott, a power couple from Portland, frequently featured in the Daily Buzz. The Abbott’s had bought a vacation home in Maple Grove last year, in addition to a half-dozen lake view properties that were in the planning phase of development. Sidney didn’t like the sound of that, but whether she liked it or not, the small-town culture of Garnerville was irrevocably changing.

  The Abbotts sponsored elegant fundraisers to help disadvantaged children and animals and donated tidy sums of money to their causes. But James Abbott’s altruism didn’t extend to his business dealings. As CEO of NetStorm Electronics, he had a reputation for ruthlessly seizing or steamrolling smaller companies to eliminate competition, destroying careers and marketplace diversity in the process. The way he and Reese were being received tonight, like royalty, illustrated how the intoxicating power of money could give the shadiest individuals an alluring appeal.

  Reese Abbott glanced around, caught David’s eye, and waved with an expectant smile.

  “Old business friends,” David said, waving back.

  “Go play host,” Sidney said. “Selena and I will browse.”

  His eyes lingered on hers for a moment, a quiet smile offered silently before he leaned in close to her ear. “Can I take you for a drink later?”

  Sidney’s stomach did a little somersault. “Yes.”

  He reached down and squeezed her hand before navigating his way through the crowd.

  Selena locked eyes with Sidney and mouthed the word WOW. “He’s steaming hot, Sid. Definitely not from around here.”

  “Moved here from San Francisco.”

  “Sophisticated. He’s sure not shy about letting you know he’s interested. Refreshing to see a guy who doesn’t play games.”

  “He wants to take me out later.”

  Selena gave her a knowing smile. “Hope your drought’s over.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s just a drink.” David was smooth and charming, but as far as Sidney knew, he could be a player. And she’d had her fill of men who were allergic to settling down. “Let’s actually look at art.”

  They turned to a camera flash in their faces. Through dots of light, Sidney saw Jeff Norcross facing them with his Nikon camera poised at his eye. “A couple more, ladies. You look gorgeous. And a few of you alone, Chief Becker.”

  Not displeased to have her image immortalized when she looked this good, Sidney posed graciously.

  “Look in the paper tomorrow.” He grinned and melted into the crowd.

  The evening unfolded pleasantly. Sidney and Selena split up, each running into their own friends, and the wine eased the stress Sidney had been carting around the last few days. She found it enjoyable to meet the townsfolk on a social level rather than as an authority figure. She realized, as chief of police, she needed to do this more often—rub elbows with the power players, get a full scope of how the town was changing, and how law enforcement should be administered in the future. David mentioned never seeing her at chamber meetings. She made a pledge to herself to adjust her schedule and start attending.

  Groupings of people shifted throughout the evening and she and David crossed paths several times. They introduced each other to friends, and she admired his social ease discussing politics, art, world affairs, even cooking, for which he appeared to be especially fond.

  While standing before one of David’s stunning landscapes, a lavish interpretation of the Cascade Range, he introduced her to James and Reese Abbott. Sidney found them a little full of themselves, and standoffish when she didn’t offer the genuflection they seemed to expect from a civil servant. Tall and silver-haired, James was more distinguished than handsome, with a Roman nose and intelligent gray eyes that never warmed.

  Reese, nearing sixty and a decade older than her husband, kept age at bay with nips, tucks, and injections. Her wrinkle-free skin stretched over sharp cheekbones an
d she was painfully thin with disproportionately large breasts swelling above the bodice of her slinky green dress. Sidney felt sympathy for her. The Abbotts ignored Sidney and talked business with David, apparently interested in several art pieces for their Maple Grove home. As Sidney quietly wandered away, David cast her an apologetic smile.

  Sometime later, Sidney’s back stiffened when she left the restroom and came upon James Abbott standing alone in a corner of the studio, seemingly mesmerized by a pastel drawing. She was about to cough to announce her presence when his eyes watered and his expression crumpled in misery. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a shudder passed over his shoulders, and he made an abrupt pivot and almost collided with her as he brushed past.

  Curiosity drew Sidney to the pastel like a magnet. A beautiful piece. The sun sinking over Lake Kalapuya, rendered with bold, vibrant slashes of color. The skillfully applied hues captured a deeply mysterious, moody quality to the lake. She read the name card posted underneath.

  Title: Setting Sun

  Artist: Samantha Ferguson.

  Sidney felt a jolt of surprise. Samantha! As David had told her, the young woman had been a gifted artist. Tragic, such a promising career cut short. Sidney’s thoughts darted back to Abbott. Why did the tough-minded CEO have such an intensely emotional response to Samantha’s work? Clearly, he knew her well enough to have formed a strong attachment. What social sphere brought these two people together? Samantha’s parents also lived in Maple Grove. Did the families play golf or tennis together? Socialize at the exclusive country club?

  Was Abbott the mysterious high roller who gave Samantha an expensive Rolex and diamond earrings? Seemed unlikely. She couldn’t picture the drug-riddled hell raiser having an affair with the cold, calculated CEO of an international company.