Chocolate Dipped Death (13 page)

Kindness warmed Jawarski’s eyes. “That might take a little while.”

“Or forever.” I shuddered again at the memory and wished I hadn’t been so quick to pull away. “I’m pretty sure that image won’t ever go away.”

“Seeing your first body is a shock,” Jawarski agreed. “It gets easier, but I don’t think the horror of that first one ever completely goes away.”

“I’m going to have to trust you on that,” I said. “I don’t ever want to see another dead body.” I sank back into my chair, reluctantly abandoning the idea of rushing to Miles’s rescue. Maybe Jawarski was right. Maybe Nate wouldn’t botch things too badly. He’d been on the force for at least a decade, and nobody had fired him yet. “What I want to know is, who did this to her?” I said. “Do you have any leads?”

Jawarski’s expression grew solemn. “Not yet. There are more than a dozen sets of tire prints along the road, and no way yet of knowing which ones belong to the vehicle that hit her.”

“But you’ll be looking for it.”

“Of course. But at the moment you’re our only witness.”

I pulled back sharply. “I didn’t see the accident.”

“No, but you were the first person on the scene. It’s possible you saw something that might help us out.” He nudged the cocoa toward me.

“I didn’t see anything,” I insisted. “I only wish I had.” I didn’t want the cocoa, but I didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. I sipped and forced a smile.
Yep. Thin. Watery. But warm.
“She was only about twenty feet from the employee parking lot, wasn’t she? I wonder if one of the staff saw or heard something. Or maybe it was a staff member who hit her. Have you thought of that?”

Jawarski nodded. “Yeah. We’ve thought of that. But let’s get one thing straight right off the bat, okay? I don’t want you getting involved in this. Let us handle it. That’s what we’re trained to do.”

I held up both hands. “Not a problem. I have no desire to get involved in your investigation.”

“Even though you found the body?”

“Especially since I found the . . . her. I didn’t
try
to find her, it was an accident.”

“But you were searching for her.”

“Well yeah, because you
told
us to.”

“I told you?”

“When I called to ask you for help. You said that if Miles was that worried, he should look for her. So we did.”

Jawarski rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t argue with me, so he changed the subject. “Tell me about the altercation Savannah had with Evie Rice the other night.”

“Why do you want to know about that?”

“I have a dead woman on my hands, Abby. I want to know about anything that might have put her here.”

My heart slowed ominously. “Are you saying you think someone hit Savannah
deliberately
?”

Jawarski lifted one shoulder with exasperating nonchalance. “I’m just exploring every possibility, that’s all. So what about the argument?”

I did my best to match his casual shrug. “There’s not much to tell. Savannah took first place in last night’s event, and Evie Rice accused her of cheating. End of story.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is.” I remembered what Richie said about Evie’s competitive nature and felt the sudden urge to start pacing. I made myself ignore it. Jawarski would suspect that he’d hit a nerve, and I didn’t want him destroying the competition and sullying Divinity’s reputation by accusing the contestants of killing each other.

He spotted a jar of Cappuccino Divinity on the counter and pulled it onto the table. He helped himself to three pieces and said, “I understand that several of you knew Savannah when she lived in Paradise before?”

It’s hard to resist a man who so thoroughly appreciates what you do for a living. I tried anyway. “A lot of people knew her.”

“And I understand that some people were upset with her for coming back to Paradise?”

“They might have been. But that still doesn’t—”

“Including Karen.”

A stupid statement like that made it easier to resist him. “You think
Karen
had something to do with Savannah’s accident?”

“Do you?”

“Don’t play cop with me, Jawarski. It’s not going to work.”

“I’m not playing, Abby. Mrs. Horne didn’t just fall over in the snow. Someone knocked her down and made damn sure she wasn’t going to get up again.”

“Well, it wasn’t Karen,” I assured him, and for good measure added, “I can’t imagine Evie doing something like that, either.”

“What about Savannah’s husband?”

I have to admit that Miles made more sense as a suspect than Karen did, but I had a hard time picturing the distraught man who’d been at Divinity all day as a cold-hearted killer. “I don’t think he could have done it,” I said. “He’s been here for the past two days.”

Jawarski licked candy from his fingers. “
All
day?”

“Most of them.”

“You want to run through the timetable for me?”

The past forty-eight hours felt like a week. I had to think for a minute to remember everything. “Miles Horne called me early yesterday morning,” I said. “I think it was around six thirty.”

Jawarski pulled the notepad from his pocket and scribbled something. “You were already at work?”

“No. In fact, he woke me up.”

Jawarski lanced me with one blue eye. “He had your home phone number?”

“I didn’t give it to him, if that’s what you’re asking. But this is Paradise. I’m in the book.”

He made another note and nodded for me to go on.

“When he called, Miles said he wanted to talk about the disagreement over the contest. He thought that Evie owed Savannah a public apology, and he wanted me to arrange it.”

“And you agreed?”

“Not exactly. I was almost certain Evie would refuse to make any kind of apology. I agreed to meet with the Hornes because I was hoping I could get them to compromise.”

Jawarski’s head snapped up. “So you met with both of them?”

“No, Miles came alone. Savannah was out jogging, and he wanted to talk to me before she got there.

“Did he say why?”

“He was worried because Savannah and her sister don’t get along. Savannah wouldn’t tell him why, and he was hoping I would.”

That earned me another sharp look. “Why you?”

“Because I’m in the same boat Savannah was—at least that’s what Miles told me. I moved away, and I came back. He said I knew how hard it can be to insinuate yourself back into the community, and he thought I’d be sympathetic toward Savannah.”

“And were you?”

I shrugged again. “Not really. Or maybe I was a little. I didn’t exactly like her back in high school, but she seemed different when I talked with her that night.”

“You talked with her? Was that before or after the argument with Evie Rice?”

“After. I ran into her while I was walking Max.”

Jawarski stopped writing. “So you saw her alone? What time was that?”

“Ten thirty, maybe eleven. I didn’t really notice the time, but all the excitement had died down and, like I said, I was taking Max for a walk, so it couldn’t have been much earlier than that.”

Jawarski bent and scratched Max’s knobby head. “You get around, don’t you boy?” Max responded with a noisy lick of the fingers, and Jawarski lifted his gaze to mine again. “So you spoke with her?”

“For a few minutes. Not long.”

“How did she seem?”

“Fine. Maybe a little more quiet than usual.” I worked up a sheepish smile and added, “More human, I guess. That’s why I agreed to meet with her and Miles the next morning. I thought the Savannah I spoke with Friday night might have been open to a compromise with Evie.”

“The old Savannah wouldn’t have been?”

I shook my head. “I’ll never be sure, but I doubt it. Savannah could be . . . unpleasant.”

“In what way?”

I could have given him a nice long list, but what purpose would it serve? For all we knew, her death was an accident, so why stir up mud unnecessarily? “There’s nothing specific,” I said, trying to look honest and forthcoming. “She just had an abrasive personality. You know the type.”

Jawarski nodded slowly. “I do. But her husband seems to think that a number of women here in Paradise hated her.”

“She wasn’t the most popular girl in our class at school,” I admitted, “but
hate
?” I shook my head. “I think that’s too strong to describe how people felt about her.” Unless, of course, they came in second place in a contest or had too much to drink. I resisted the urge to glance at the mess Karen had left in my living room and kept my eyes locked on Jawarski’s instead. “Why are you asking about that, anyway? You don’t even know how Savannah died. All of this is pure speculation.”

He stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Call it gut instinct. And you’re right. I don’t know how she died, but I will.”

There was a faint warning in his words, but I ignored it. After all,
I
had nothing to worry about. “Are you through grilling me? Because it’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted.”

Jawarski’s personality changed again right in front of my eyes. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”

It was a tempting offer, but I made myself shake my head. I’ve never been one of those women who gets nervous when she’s alone, and I wasn’t going to let myself start now. Besides, Karen would come back eventually, and I didn’t want Jawarski around when she did. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I have Max, don’t I?”

Jawarski ran a skeptical glance across my face, but he didn’t argue. I stood to face him, and for one brief moment, I thought he was going to put his arms around me. A tiny flutter of anticipation danced around low in my belly. After a long moment, Jawarski turned toward the door to the living room. I couldn’t decide whether I felt relieved or disappointed.

He stepped across a mound of Karen’s things and opened the front door. “You’ll call if you need anything?”

“Sure,” I agreed. And maybe this time, I actually would.

 

Exhausted, emotionally spent, and aching for a hot bath, I slumped down the hall to my bedroom. I wondered where Karen was but I told myself not to worry. She could be back with Sergio for all I knew, and when she got around to wanting her stuff back, she knew where to find me.

No sooner had I started picking up pieces of the paper towel roll Max had shredded sometime that morning, than someone knocked on my front door. With his stump of a tail wagging at the prospect of a visit, Max trotted toward the sound. I followed a little more slowly.

Maybe Jawarski had come back, but if all he wanted was the answers to more questions, I wasn’t interested. Maybe it was Dooley checking up on me, but I wasn’t in the mood for company. Finding Savannah had left me shaky and uncertain, and I needed time and space to figure out how I felt.

I yanked open the door, fully prepared to send whoever it was on their way, but it wasn’t Jawarski or Dooley. My niece stood in the dim spill of light, her thin arms wrapped around herself, her small face clouded with misery.

“Dana?” I asked tentatively. I’m embarrassed to admit that I still have trouble telling sixteen-year-old Dana and her twin sister apart. Both have chin-length blonde hair, both have wide, expressive brown eyes. Their noses, chins, and mouths are virtually identical, and now that changing diapers isn’t an option, I’m not likely to see which one has the small jelly bean-shaped birthmark on her hip.

Usually, I have to take my cues from Wyatt and Elizabeth or from the girls’ brothers to identify the twins, but I didn’t have that luxury tonight. This was the first time either of the girls had come to me on her own, and I wanted desperately to do and say all the right things.

My niece nodded. “Can I come in?”

Giving myself a mental pat on the back, I shoved the door open the rest of the way. “Of course. Is something wrong?”

“Kind of.” She came inside, shivered elaborately, stared at Karen’s mess, and dropped like a stone onto the floor in front of the ugly plaid couch.

More than anything, I want to be for Wyatt’s kids what Aunt Grace always was for me: a soft place to fall, a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to when I couldn’t talk to Mom and Dad. I have a lot of time to make up for. Even knowing all of that, the nervousness that gripped me caught me by surprise.

“Let me take your coat,” I suggested. “Then you can tell me what’s wrong.”

Dana shrugged out of her parka and pushed it toward me. “I need you to help me with thom-thing,” she said without looking at me.

Her voice sounded funny—almost as if she was talking around a mouthful of peanut butter. I draped her coat over a pile of Karen’s clothes and sat where I could get a good look at her. “Are you all right?”

Dana nodded and pulled her knees up against her chest. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You sound . . . different.”

She slid a glance at me. “Do I really? Ith it bad?”

“Not
bad
, exactly. Just different.” I leaned forward so I could see into her eyes. Wyatt and Elizabeth had recently separated, and the kids weren’t taking it well. They needed more care and understanding than ever, and I wanted to dish up just the right amount of both. “Why don’t you tell me what’s up?”

Dana dropped her forehead to her knees and sat that way for a minute or two before she finally lifted her head again and opened her mouth. It took me a second or two to recognize the green ball on her tongue for what it really was. When I did, my heart plummeted to the floor. “You pierced your
tongue
?”

Nodding miserably, Dana shut her mouth again. “Mom’s furiouth.”

I thought about Elizabeth, keeper of traditional family values and director of the choir for her church, and nodded slowly. For all of that, Elizabeth is the free-thinking one in the family. Compared to my brother, she’s practically a raving liberal. “I’ll bet she is. What does your dad say?”