Chocolate Dipped Death Page 11

  Now, there was a strong incentive to rat out your friend. Dana scowled up at her father. “It was a friend, and I’m not telling you his name.”

  “Oh no? You think I can’t find out on my own?”

  The color in Dana’s cheeks drained away. “Please, Daddy . . .”

  “Does your mother know about this? Did she tell you it was all right? Because if she did—”

  Dana shook her head miserably. “No. She’s mad at me, too. She said I had to tell you before I could come home.”

  Wyatt slid to the edge of the booth and stood glowering down at his daughter. “Go into the bathroom and take it out.”

  As if she’d suddenly grown a backbone, Dana set her jaw and stared back up at him. “No.”

  “Do it, Dana. Now.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t care what you want,” Wyatt growled. “You’re not old enough to make that decision.”

  “It’s my tongue.”

  “Not until you’re eighteen.” Wyatt reached for her arm, but she jerked away. Frustration darkened his eyes and formed deep lines around his mouth. “Dana Marie Shaw, take that damn thing out of your mouth this instant.”

  “No.”

  I might not agree with Wyatt’s method of dealing with this, but Dana wasn’t exactly winning medals for her brilliance either. I hesitated to get between them, but one of these days they’d both regret arguing in public, so I quietly offered a suggestion to my grim-faced brother. “Why don’t you sit back down and talk this over with her?”

  I should have known better.

  “This has nothing to do with you,” Wyatt snarled at me.

  “Well, maybe not technically—”

  Eyes glazed over with fury, Wyatt tossed a handful of change onto the table. “You can’t just come back to town and start sticking your nose into everything, Abby. It doesn’t work that way.” He pulled Dana to her feet and clapped one hand to her shoulder to keep her there. “This is between me and my kid, so just stay out of it.”

  His words stung, but I was more angry than hurt. I shot to my feet and jabbed him in the chest with my finger as I talked. “Dana asked me to come with her.” Jab, jab, jab. “That makes this my business whether you,” jab, “like it or not. And if you,” jab, jab, “were home with your family where you belong, she wouldn’t have to ask me to get involved.” I was living dangerously, but I didn’t care. I’d had a rough day, and he wasn’t helping.

  Wyatt stiff-armed past me. “My family is fine. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Your own daughter’s afraid to talk to you,” I shouted after him. “That doesn’t sound fine to me.”

  Wyatt whipped around again, his face terrible in his anger. For an old fart, he moved pretty fast. “What would you know about it, Abby? You’re not a parent. Don’t use my kids to give yourself some kind of maternal rush.”

  I felt myself recoil, and I could swear the blood drained from my face. I don’t think Wyatt had any idea that he’d scored a direct hit with that one. After all, I’d never really talked to him about how much I’d wanted children during my marriage, how much Roger’s lack of interest in a family had hurt, or how devastated I’d been to learn that my husband was having a child with another woman. If Wyatt had tried for a year, he couldn’t have found a more hurtful thing to say, and I hated him fiercely in that moment.

  “You’re a bastard,” I said through my teeth. I was dimly aware of Dana hovering behind a nearby table, of her frightened gaze darting back and forth between the two of us.

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and the impulse to cry was almost as strong as the urge to shove my brother in front of a moving train. But Wyatt’s so thick-headed, I’d probably get sued for damaging the train.

  Steaming, I snatched my keys from the table where I’d left them and turned toward the door. “Come on, Dana. Let’s get out of here.”

  My little niece hesitated for only a heartbeat before she fell into step behind me, but Wyatt caught her arm and stopped her. “Oh no you don’t. The only place you’re going is home with me. I want to see what your mother has to say about this.”

  “Leave her alone, Wyatt. I’ll take her home.”

  “No thanks, Abby. You’ve already done enough damage.”

  A whole truckload of arguments rose to my lips, but what could I do? She was his daughter, poor thing. Besides, he might be angry, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt her, and I was still reeling from the last blow he’d delivered. Wyatt didn’t look anywhere close to backing down, and I wasn’t sure I could survive another round.

  “Your dad wants to take you home,” I said to Dana. “Are you okay with that?”

  She nodded uncertainly. I guess she knew as well as I did that we were beaten.

  “Okay,” I conceded, “but you know where to find me if you need me.”

  She nodded again, and her gaze dropped, but not before I registered the disappointment I saw there. Maybe it was a good thing I’d never had kids. I wasn’t even a good aunt.

  Chapter 11

  Desperate to get away from Sid’s before Wyatt and Dana could come outside, I shoved out into the cold night air and jammed the key into the Jetta’s ignition. Instead of turning over the way it should have, the Jetta gave a couple of uninspired and useless clicks, then groaned and died.

  Unbelievable. What now?

  Wyatt and Dana burst out of the diner, but there was no way I was going to ask him for help, so I slid down in my seat and hid there until I was sure they were gone. Wanting to keep Max from lunging up at the wrong moment and giving me away, I clutched his collar until the roar of Wyatt’s engine finally died away; then I tried the ignition again. No luck. I stared at the pointy snout and big brown eyes of my best friend and felt tears of frustration brimming.

  I hate crying. It’s messy and weak and embarrassing. I try not to do it more than absolutely necessary. It wasn’t necessary now.

  Swiping at my eyes with my sleeve, I tried to conjure up a few bars of service on my cell phone. No luck. Surprise, surprise.

  “Don’t worry,” I said to Max. “There’s a solution. I know there is. It just might take a few minutes to find it.” But I didn’t want to bother Jawarski, and I couldn’t call Karen. I didn’t want to walk back into Sid’s and face the crowd inside, but I couldn’t sit in my car all night.

  I don’t know how long I sat there contemplating my fate before I noticed headlights shining on the snow that lined the highway. Hoping it would be someone I knew, I lunged out of the Jetta and raced across the parking lot, waving my arms frantically over my head. An Explorer rounded a curve in the road, and the headlights caught me, blinding me momentarily. The driver veered off into the parking lot, fishtailing to a stop on the ice only a few feet from where I stood.

  I heard the whine of a motorized window followed by a woman’s voice. “Abby? What on earth are you doing?”

  I squinted into the headlights and made out a familiar silhouette framed by mousy brown hair freshly shaped and blown dry by the ladies at the Curl Up and Dye. “Faith! Am I glad to see you. My car is broken down. Can I catch a ride back into town with you?”

  “Of course.” She leaned across the car and opened the door for me. “What are you doing at Sid’s?”

  “Long story. Do you mind if I bring Max along?”

  “You certainly can’t leave him here. It’s far too cold. Praise God, I came along when I did.”

  I gathered keys, purse, and dog from the Jetta, made sure it was locked, and scurried back to Faith’s Explorer. When I had Max settled in the backseat and myself securely strapped in the front, Faith pulled back onto the highway. “I just heard the news about Savannah. Is it really true?”

  I was too tired to think about Savannah’s death, but I forced a nod. “I’m afraid so.”

  She mumbled something under her breath—another prayer, no doubt. “How did it happen?”

  “The police don’t know yet, but they’re thinking it might
have been a hit-and-run.”

  “A hit-and—” Faith broke off with an exaggerated shudder and shot a glance across the seat at me. “But that’s horrible! Who would do something like that?”

  “That’s the million dollar question. I have no idea, but the police will find out.”

  In the dim reflection of moon, stars, and dashboard lights, I could see Faith’s complexion grow pale. She chewed the side of her thumbnail and steered around a sharp curve in the road. “Do you think Delta did it?”

  I stifled a yawn and tried to ignore the ache of exhaustion in my limbs. “I have no idea,” I said again, “but I wouldn’t rule out any possibilities.” I studied her profile for a moment, and it occurred to me that she might know something I didn’t. “Why do you ask about Delta? Do you think she did it?”

  Faith shook her head uncertainly. “I don’t know. It’s just that—well, everybody’s talking about how upset Delta has been since Savannah came back to Paradise. And everybody knows she didn’t want to give Savannah any part of their mother’s estate. It would have been the right thing to do—the Christian thing to do—but Delta won’t hear of it.”

  “And you think Delta killed her so she wouldn’t have to?”

  Faith’s eyes left the road for a split second. “I’m not accusing her of murder. I’m just trying to figure out what happened. Murder’s a little disconcerting, don’t you think?”

  Well, yeah. To put it mildly.

  “I suppose it’s worse for us because we all knew Savannah,” Faith went on.

  “We knew her,” I agreed, “but it’s not as if any of us were all that friendly with her.”

  “Not lately.” Faith’s lips curved slightly. “Oh, maybe you’re right. Nobody really liked her, did they?”

  I sank down on my tailbone and tried to get comfortable. “Not much.”

  “I think it’s so sad that she and Delta couldn’t even get along. Just between you and me, Noah says Delta’s been down at the church several nights this week talking to Pastor Ramsey.”

  That got me sitting up a little straighter. “About Savannah?”

  “He didn’t say. I’m not sure he knows. But what else could it be? I mean, here comes Savannah demanding half of their mother’s estate—and after she did absolutely nothing to help when Victoria was so sick. On the other hand, Delta stayed here and nursed that poor old woman right to the end. If anybody deserves that house and what little money Victoria had, Delta does.”

  “Family is family,” I said, as if that actually meant something.

  Faith quirked a little smile at me. “That’s kind of a naïve statement, isn’t it? People in families hurt one another all the time. And I’m not accusing Delta of murder, anyway. It’s just that Noah said she was awfully upset when he saw her, and now this. It’s kind of an odd coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “I’m too tired to think,” I said honestly. “It’s been a long day. Like I said, I’m sure the police will figure it all out.”

  Faith fell blessedly silent for a few minutes, but it didn’t last long. She’d seemed so quiet and reserved at the Curl, but this Chatty Cathy doll was more like the Faith I’d grown up with. “I heard that you’re the one who found her,” she said as we skimmed past the Pit Stop. “Is that true?”

  I gave my head a weary nod. “Yes, it’s true.”

  “And she was already dead?”

  I nodded again. “Yes, she was.”

  “So she didn’t say anything to you?”

  What a strange question. “No, she didn’t.”

  Did I just imagine the flicker of relief that darted through Faith’s eyes? It was gone before I could be sure. “It must have been just awful for you. I don’t even like to think about it. And her poor husband! He must be beside himself.”

  “I’m sure he’s devastated.”

  “Especially being here in a strange city,” Faith said, “without his usual support system. Someone really should see if there’s anything he needs.”

  “Someone should,” I agreed. Emphasis on someone else.

  I didn’t need to worry. Faith slowed as we hit the downtown traffic and waited at an intersection while crowds on either side of the street changed places. “Maybe I’ll stop by the hotel on my way home and see how he’s doing. You don’t think that would be too presumptuous, do you? I mean, I haven’t even seen Savannah since high school, so maybe I’m not the best person to do this.”

  Who better? “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the concern,” I assured her. The man’s wife was dead, and if the good people of Paradise were suddenly going to show how compassionate and concerned they were, I wasn’t going to argue. Still, it might have been nice if they’d been a little more friendly when it could have done Savannah some good.

  I leaned my head against the seat and asked, “Is there anybody in town who stayed in contact with Savannah after she left here?”

  Faith thought for a moment. “Have you talked to Marshall Ames?”

  “I didn’t realize he and Savannah were friends.”

  “Oh, sure.” She flicked a glance across the seat. “Maybe not friends, exactly, but Marshall had quite a thing for Savannah back in school. I thought everybody knew that.”

  Not everybody. Maybe that explained why he’d jumped to her defense the night of the contest. “Did they date?”

  Faith laughed and shook her head. “Are you kidding? Savannah wouldn’t even give Marshall the time of day. He wasn’t her type.”

  “Then why would you think they’d stayed in contact after she left Paradise?”

  “Because I heard Marshall asking her about some letter he sent her.”

  “You did? When?”

  “Friday afternoon.”

  Considering everything that had happened, it took me a few seconds to cycle back in time that far. “You mean before the contest started?”

  Nodding, Faith cranked the wheel and turned onto Prospector Street. “A couple of hours before. They were just down the street from the post office, and I’d just come from mailing a few things. I overheard them talking.” She stopped in front of Divinity and waited for me to get out. I had the feeling I should be asking her something, but I was too tired to wrap my head around the conversation we’d just had. I gathered my things and stood on the curb hanging on to Max’s leash while she drove away. But one question ran relentlessly through my head as I stood there. What had Marshall told me about Savannah that night?

  Hadn’t he said that he hardly knew her? Yes, I was sure of it. But if Faith was telling me the truth, then Marshall had lied to me. And I wanted to know why.

  Karen was asleep on my sofa bed when I climbed the steps and let myself inside, so I decided not to wake her. Maybe she wasn’t willing to talk to me yet, but she was still willing to sleep on my couch, and that meant she didn’t hate me.

  I’d have to take what I could get.

  Unfortunately, she was gone by the time I woke up the next morning. This time the sofa bed was neatly made and her suitcase was gone. I hoped that meant that she’d worked things out with Sergio. I wanted to believe that she and I would work through our differences, too, but I decided to give her a little more time to cool off first. Her marriage had to be first priority.

  I dressed quickly and led Max outside into one of those ultracold days we sometimes get in January in the Rockies. The air was crisp and clear, but so dry and cold it almost sucked my breath away. It was too cold for the snow to melt, and the ice squeaked underfoot when I walked. Even bundled into my warmest coat, hat, gloves, and boots, the cold permeated everything, and the weather forecast called for temperatures to remain well below freezing all day.

  I thought about Savannah, running along that service road by herself, and wondered if she’d seen the car coming before it hit her. Had she recognized her assailant? Had she known what was happening? Had she died immediately, or had she suffered? I hated the thought of her lying in the snow, thinking about the person who’d hit her and unable to let anyone know she
was hurt. Nobody deserves to die that way.

  I thought about Dana and wondered how the conversation with her parents had gone last night. I just hoped I hadn’t let her down too far. I was disappointed enough for both of us.

  For once, even Max seemed aware of the cold and took care of business in record time. On my way back to Divinity, I spotted Dooley Jorgensen through the window at Picture Perfect. He hadn’t been over to see me for a few days, so I detoured and knocked on the door.

  Dooley’s a large man in his early sixties, round-faced and barrel-chested, with a shock of hair that used to be blond. He moved to Paradise a few years ago and immediately took Aunt Grace under his wing. After her death, he transferred his attention to me, and he was quickly becoming a trusted friend.

  He hurried to let me inside, roughed Max up a bit, and gave me a quick once-over. “I’ve been wondering how you’re doing with all the excitement that’s been going on. I was going to stop over and see you this morning, but I didn’t think you were there. Where’s your car?”

  “Out at Sid’s. Dead battery.” I made a face and stuffed my hat and gloves into my coat pockets. “I don’t think I’d call what’s happening around here ‘excitement.’ Whatever it is, I could do without it.”

  “Need help towing your car to the garage?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll call Orly at Paradise Auto Body later. He did a good job with it after my accident. I’ll just have him fix it again.”

  Dooley put one beefy hand on my shoulder. “You doin’ okay, sweet pea?”

  I nodded without conviction. “More confused than anything else. I wanted so badly to make this year’s contest as wonderful as it was when Aunt Grace was alive. Now I’ll be lucky if I can even save it.”

  “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  “Just about.” I trailed him through aisles filled with cameras, camera equipment, frames, and photographs of smiling people, to the long workbench at the back of the store. Even this early in the morning, the chemical scent of developer made me want to sneeze. “I’ve let Aunt Grace down, one of our contestants has been killed, I’ve upset Karen so she’s not speaking to me, and Bea’s not far behind her. Wyatt’s mad at me, too, and I’ve discovered that I’m a lousy aunt.” I grinned ruefully and leaned against the counter. “I’m doing just fine, Dooley. Thanks for asking.”