Ropes and Trees and Murder

by Patti Larsen

  He could be as mad at me as he wanted, but I wasn’t the one making out with the enemy.

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Carmen’s hurried attempt at a blatant lie silenced her without me having to say a word.

  “I personally couldn’t care less.” I stepped aside while Philip left in a rush without a word to the girl he’d just been kissing, disappearing toward the entry while Carmen watched him go, hugging herself as he did, despair on her face. “None of my business. Unless, of course, your affair impacts Lewis Brown’s death.”

  Carmen’s face crumpled, tears tracking down her cheeks. “We had nothing to do with that,” she said. “Philip and I… we have history. That’s all. I wasn’t expecting to see him here.”

  “Bet Aiden wasn’t happy to see him, either,” I said. “Jared certainly took exception.”

  Carmen sniffed, wiping her nose on the cuff of her hoodie, Zip It! written across the front in giant white letters. I had one just like it, thanks to Lewis’s death. “Jared needs to mind his own business. I didn’t ask for him to interfere.”

  “Likely he thought he was defending his friend,” I said, not saying which friend that might be and wondering if she knew I referred to Aiden far more than her. Looked like she’d made her choices, hadn’t she?

  She shook her head, lips a tight line. “Philip wasn’t supposed to be here,” she said. “I told him I never wanted to see him again.” Carmen finally met my eyes. “I committed to Aiden, Fee, I swear it.”

  Good for her. “You must have figured he’d show,” I said, “considering he’s part of Lewis Brown’s little posse.”

  She seemed to choke on that a moment. “That’s just it,” she said, voice shaking, “I had no idea he’d started this nonsense.” Her lower lip settled as she drew a deep breath and seemed to get control of herself. “He works for a development company, the Blackstone Corporation. They buy up land in emerging areas, turn them into tourist locations. He shouldn’t be associating with protestors. He could lose his job.”

  Interesting and fired off a bunch of warning bells in my head. “Emerging areas like this one?”

  Carmen blinked at me. “Yes,” she whispered. Shook herself, looked around. “Exactly like this one.”

  I needed to talk to Jared. Had this Blackstone Corporation approached him about purchasing the land Zip It! was built on? My thoughts then zinged to Olivia. If so, did the mayor know about their interest? Or was I grasping at straws of things that had nothing to do with one another? Philip was talking to someone in the annex, though. Someone who wanted him to handle a situation that he said was to their advantage. Was he only playing at being a protestor? But why would someone like Lewis Black trust an employee of a development company?

  So many questions. Meanwhile, Carmen lunged for me, grasped my hand, Petunia whining as the young woman came too close for comfort.

  “You can’t tell Aiden.” Desperation lived in her dark eyes and for the second time in a very short period I thought about high school and all the drama that really shouldn’t exist for me in the beginning of my third decade on this planet. “Please, Fee, I’m begging you. He’ll never get over it.”

  I sighed, nodded. “It’s not my place to tell your boyfriend you’re not as in love with him as you thought you were.” Nice try to guilt the girl into confessing on her own. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t work and from the flinch she gave me, her retreat, I knew I did little but add to her already weighty regrets. I’d lived through cheating, had left the guy I’d committed a large chunk of my life to, so I had very little patience with infidelity. And realized then that was why I felt so anxious about Matt, about what Robert might tell Crew. Because that wasn’t me and never would be.

  Argh. I needed to talk to the sheriff.

  “I know he’s a mistake,” Carmen whispered then, like I was some kind of confessor she needed to empty herself to. “I love Aiden. But I can’t help myself. Whenever Philip’s around, I just…” Okay, maybe I felt a bit of sympathy, but not much. What would happen if my ex, Ryan, showed up? I thought about it for about half a second before snorting to myself. I’d kick him in the privates, that’s what. But as I stood there and watched Carmen cry, wiping at more tears with her sleeves, I let go of the animosity I felt for my old boyfriend and did my best not to judge her.

  “Where were you when Lewis was killed?” He wasn’t a large man, so stringing him up after choking him might have been within Carmen’s ability. After all, she was an athlete, strong for her size.

  She sniffed, nodded. “I was with a group of media,” she said, “showing them the harnesses, how we put safety first.” She shrugged. “I was on camera the whole time.” Pretty solid alibi. Except she wasn’t, was she?

  “Crew and I saw you, remember,” I said. “Chasing Philip.” Had she been going after him to confront him for showing up or were they entangled in an embrace when Lewis died?

  She flinched. “The sheriff cleared me,” she said.

  Fine, if Crew said so. But I wasn’t so willing to let her off the hook. “And Aiden?” I waited, watched, saw her flinch.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t remember seeing him until after I ran to the last line. He was up the tree by the time I got there, letting the winch down.” Was that fear on her face?

  “Do you think Aiden could have killed Lewis over the park?” I wasn’t so sure, but she knew him better than anyone, or likely thought she did. Considering he didn’t know her that well if he hadn’t acted on the Philip thing? Maybe neither of them was as in tune with the other as they could have been. Still, her answer could be telling.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “He has a temper.”

  “And Philip?” I’d seen him prior to the murder. He’d seemed out of sorts. Because Carmen was chasing him or because he’d just killed Lewis?

  Another pause. “I’m not sure about him, either,” she said. “I spotted him in the crowd but I didn’t get to talk to him until after.” She flushed, because talking likely wasn’t a big part of their conversation, was it? But explained why she was running after him. “But I’m less worried about Aiden or Philip and more about…” she trailed off, shook her head, looked away. “Never mind. I didn’t say anything.”

  “About who?” I prodded gently, waited again, Petunia licking her chops audibly in the silence that followed.

  “Jared,” Carmen said. Then shook herself as if she couldn’t bear the thought. “I’m worried about Jared.”

  She did not just throw him under the bus. I wanted to call her on it but Carmen was done. She turned in the opposite direction Philip went, heading for the front of the entrance building, leaving me alone in the bushes, fuming and annoyed.

  The sound of a truck starting up spun me around. I headed back to the parking lot in time to see Crew pulling away, Robert following him in his cruiser and scowled at their departing taillights. The sheriff must have seen my car there. Why didn’t he wait?

  Frustrated and now even more worried, I headed home with questions and arguments at war in my mind.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I was still thinking when I entered the foyer of Petunia’s to find Dad waiting for me, hunched over the keyboard of my computer. The perfect person to have this conversation with. But the moment I set foot in the entry, Dad leaped to his feet and grabbed for his coat, eyes sparkling.

  “Glad you’re back,” he said. “Feel like going out again?”

  “And leave who to watch Petunia’s?” I unhooked my pug from her harness, startled to find Mom emerging from the kitchen with a grim look on her face.

  “Just go with your father,” she said. “You’d better hurry or you’ll miss it.”

  I frowned up at Dad who seemed more excited than concerned, despite Mom’s attitude. Were they talking again? He didn’t appear uncomfortable with her presence, so maybe they’d had the conversation they needed to in order to salve their wounds. More other people’s lives unfolding without me. H
ow dared they when they knew I needed in on every detail?

  Regardless, she flapped her hands at me and Dad took that as an offer to be complicit in his plan on my part because he tugged at my arm and led me outside again in the cool air of early May to his truck.

  I climbed inside before asking the obvious. “Where are we going exactly?”

  Dad winked, grinning. “Town meeting,” he said. “Going to be a hoot.”

  Um, my father’s sense of humor sometimes left a lot to be desired. “As in someone’s going to get hurt?”

  Dad shrugged, firing up the engine and pulling away from the curb. “We’ll see, I guess.”

  Great. Just freaking great.

  “Dad,” I said, “are you working on anything related to the murder of Lewis Brown?”

  He didn’t answer right away so that was a resounding yes.

  “What do you know about Philip Davis?” Another bout of telling silence. “He works for a company called—”

  “Blackstone,” Dad grunted. “Yeah. I know.”

  “Have they been trying to buy the property that Zip It! was built on?” I watched his face carefully in the flare of the streetlights as Dad found a spot and parked a block from town hall. He turned and met my eyes, his unreadable.

  “I wouldn’t know about that, Fee,” he said. And winked.

  Sigh.

  No time for further questions, not while Dad was leaping out of the truck and heading for the front doors of the hall, leaving me to hurry after him, catching him in time to scoot through the door and into the main foyer of the building. It was packed with people, some of them flustered, most of them bemused as if this meeting came as a surprise to everyone.

  “Was a last minute kind of thing,” Dad muttered to me with a barely concealed grin. “I think it was supposed to happen quiet like.”

  “Dad,” I said, dragging out the word. “Did you…?”

  He blinked at me, all innocence. “I might have sent out a few emails when I found out,” he said. “You know, just as a heads up for the good townsfolk of Reading.”

  Snort. Wait, he’d sent those emails from my computer, hadn’t he? Oooh. Dads. “You’re turning into a troublemaker,” I said.

  Dad nudged me with one elbow. “I’ve always been a troublemaker,” he whispered. “Don’t tell your mother.”

  Why did that make me want to giggle hysterically?

  I joined the influx of people heading for the council chamber, caught the flare of anger on Olivia’s face, the smug self-satisfaction from Geoffrey, the startled look from the rest of the council. Was the Patterson connection Dad’s source? Or was Geoffrey somehow feeding info to my father? And did Dad know about it? Didn’t matter at the moment, but I’d be getting to the bottom of it because no way was that smarmy creep manipulating my Dad. Not that he needed my protection, mind you, but I still felt as protective of him as he likely felt about me.

  Flemings.

  I took a seat in the gallery, the bulk of the townsfolk huddled in around the sitting council, the rest crowding the door and listening in as Olivia called the meeting to order. She seemed more flustered than I’d ever seen her, stumbling and at a loss for a bit, something Geoffrey took advantage of as she fumbled for words while shuffling paper in front of her.

  “Thank you for joining us in a timely fashion, fine folk of Reading,” he said, drawing out a laugh from everyone as Olivia turned and glared at him. “I love how there are so few secrets in our delightful burg.”

  “I call this emergency meeting to order,” she snapped at him. “Thanks to the devastating death of an internationally famous activist, we’ve been inundated with media and it’s come to my attention that some of the sitting council have been talking with journalists out of turn.”

  “Heaven forbid we talk out of turn,” Geoffrey said, raising another group chuckle. Dad sat eager and tense next to me, his eyes never leaving the gathered council. What was he after?

  Olivia seemed flustered by the amusement. “This was meant to be a private meeting.”

  “Which goes against the mandate of our town council,” Geoffrey said loud enough he meant it to be heard. “Am I right, good people of Reading?”

  Mutters of agreement met his statement. I personally didn’t give a crap, but something important was going on here, clearly, or Dad wouldn’t be involved.

  “She’s faltering,” he whispered to me as if reading my mind. “This might be her death song, Fee. The content of the conversation doesn’t matter. It’s the end result. Watch.” He didn’t appear happy about it, just focused, so I did as he said and paid attention.

  Frankly, it was sad to observe. Like Dad said, the actual topic wasn’t particularly relevant or important, as far as I was concerned. And I had little doubt Olivia had called meetings of this nature without issue in the past, likely holding a great deal of behind the scenes conversations that went against town laws to get jobs done. It felt to me like she wasn’t prepared to be challenged, or that she’d expected an easy go of it. Instead, as she attempted to wrangle the council under her thumb, Geoffrey systematically dismantled any kind of control she might have had with a few well-placed comments that had the crowd—and the gathering of councilors—laughing at her.

  I don’t remember the actual contents of the meeting. I was so tied into the emotional toll it took on Olivia, the visible degradation of her downfall, I barely heard a word she said, what Geoffrey said. Instead, the derisive giggling and amusement at her increasingly desperate need to pull things together horrified and disturbed me. Even Dad seemed to have had enough by the time Olivia raised her gavel and shut the whole thing down, his face twisted into something resembling regret.

  I exhaled as the hammer fell and the crowd around me burst into chatter, quickly emptying the council chamber. I didn’t know what was decided on the topic at hand, but it was clear the other item in question—Olivia’s fitness for leadership—was apparently well on the way to an endgame.

  Dad grasped my hand and held me in place until most of the people were gone. Only when the council started to break up did he rise to his feet and let me go. I followed him when he approached the council members who now talked among themselves, appearing to distance their physical bodies from Olivia who shuffled papers and stared at the table in front of her like doing so would save her from losing her place as mayor. A horrible feeling of loss washed through me and it was a huge battle to keep from rushing to her side and telling them all to go to hell.

  Ungrateful jerks.

  I looked up to find Dad talking to Geoffrey at the exact moment the Patterson puppet gave me a blatant up and down with his vulture-like gaze. So gross. Dad noticed, scowled, said something that caught the accountant’s attention and only then did Geoffrey seem to realize who he was talking to. I avoided them both, huddled inside my light jacket, wishing I’d stayed home instead of following Dad here.

  It wasn’t until Olivia stood up I headed for her, ignoring the rest of the council, joining her as she circled the desk, grasping for her elbow. She paused when I did, blinked as if she only then noticed I was there before shuddering to a halt and forcing a smile.

  “Fiona.” She swallowed, straightened her shoulders, that kind of too stiff falseness to her body that told me she knew she was on the brink if not already sliding down the hill at a rapidly increasing rate. “How lovely to see you.”

  “Olivia.” I could have asked her about tonight, about how to help and saw rejection in her eyes. Decided to let her have this moment of denial. Instead I asked a question burning in the back of my mind. “Did Blackstone Corporation make an offer on the Zip It! property before Jared developed it?”

  She started like she’d expected something far different, frowning a little. “I can’t divulge anything like that, Fee,” she said. “That’s town business.” She hesitated a moment before pulling her arm free. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to see to.” She marched off alone, a solitary figure in a business suit and polished bob, her pu
mps clicking on the stone floor. I almost went after her, but Terri’s appearance at my side stopped me.

  “Blackstone did make an offer,” the young flower shop owner said, nodding, her dark hair falling over one shoulder, voice low and faintly accented. “The land belonged to Olivia’s grandfather originally.”

  How interesting. “How did Jared acquire it then?”

  “He bid on it,” she said, glancing at the other council members, clearly aware of the fact she wasn’t supposed to talk about it but not seeming to care. “Olivia tried to keep it private, to shut down the bids and let Blackstone win uncontested but Jared found out and his bid won.” She shrugged. “All major purchases have to go through council, especially if there are foreign investors. Because Jared’s local and his bid was a few thousand higher, she had to sell to him.”

  Was Olivia in Blackstone’s pockets? Why would she sell out Reading to a development corporation? That didn’t sound like her, unless she was planning something I couldn’t bring myself to accept. Olivia couldn’t have been selling out our town for profit, could she?

  “I think she might have gotten away with it,” Terri whispered, “but the Pattersons found out and started throwing their weight around.” She glanced sideways at Geoffrey, still talking to Dad. “Honestly, the rest of us wanted the land to stay local, too, so we voted against her.”

  I nodded absently, mind whirling, still struggling to believe Olivia might hand over the keys to the kingdom like that. She’d been spiraling downward into her desperate need to fulfill her own private agenda, though. Was it beyond her to profit from such a deal if she knew she was on her way out? I hated to think so, but she was as human as the next person.

  “All I know,” Terri said, “is she was really upset and even more so about tonight. I’ve never seen her so rattled.”