Rock Harbor Series - 01 - Without a Trace (11 page)

“That’s exactly why I’m asking you. You know what it’s like.”

He wasn’t giving her any options. Bree pressed her lips together to stop their quivering then nodded grudgingly and tossed her car keys to Naomi. “Can you feed Samson?”

“Sure.” Naomi’s brown eyes were wide with sympathy.

“I still say Naomi would be a better helper. She has the words to say to comfort him. I don’t have any answers.”

“There are no answers for a tragedy like this,” Naomi said. “Mason is right. You’ve been there and know what it feels like. You go ahead. I’ll take care of the dogs.”

Bree hunched her shoulders and followed Mason. He instructed Montgomery to finish helping Rollo with the investigation then headed toward his car. Now that Fay’s body had been discovered, it struck her as even odder that Steve had refused to come with them.

“Do you know where Steve is?” the sheriff asked, opening the squad car door for Bree.

“He told me he’d be at a dinner party at his boss’s. I think they live on Mulberry Drive.” She slid into the car and fastened her seat belt. “Like I told you, he asked me to look for her because she was late getting home for an important party.”

“Seems odd he didn’t go with you to search.”

“I thought the same thing. Do you suppose he could have killed her?”

“Let’s not be so quick to talk about murder. Fay was pregnant, and it might have affected her balance. She could have gotten dizzy.”

“That doesn’t explain her blood by the road.”

He sighed. “We don’t know for sure it
is
her blood, Bree.”

“I’m sure.”

Mason just shook his head. Bree wondered how her brother-in-law really felt about Hilary’s inability to conceive. Hilary’s words the night of the party came on the heels of that thought.
I hate her.
No, Hilary was no murderer. She was hotheaded and self-willed, but Fay’s death was not Hilary’s handiwork.

No matter how hard Bree tried to convince herself, the echo of Hilary’s words wouldn’t fade.

“I’d better call Lily and Palmer and tell them I won’t be able to stop by tonight.” Bree made the call then turned to stare out the window. As they drove to town, she struggled to think of what she could say to Steve. She couldn’t even remember exactly what Hilary and Mason had said to her when they had come to tell her Rob’s plane was missing. It was all a blur, a merciful blur.

But the hours leading up to that moment were burned into her memory.

The phone’s ring jarred Bree awake as she lay napping on the couch. Rubbing
her eyes, she glanced at her watch. Rob and Davy would be heading home in a
few hours.

She grabbed for the phone and punched the talk button. “Hello?”

“Bree Nicholls?” a woman’s husky voice asked.

Probably a sales call,
Bree thought. The voice wasn’t familiar. “Yes?”

“You don’t know me, but my name is Lanna March, and I’m in love
with your husband.”

Bree held the phone away from her ear and stared at it as though it
had just grown fangs. She put it back to her ear. “What did you say?”

“I think you heard me. Rob and I are in love. If you want him to be
happy, you’ll let him have a divorce.”

The line clicked, and Bree was left listening to a dead line, then the
dial tone. Her thoughts spiraled, and she tried to make sense of what the
woman had said. Rob, an affair? Impossible. But even as her heart frantically
denied it, memories of late nights at work and his recent detachment
flooded her mind.

Her hands shook as she dialed Rob’s cell phone. After what seemed an
eternity, Rob answered.

“I know, you miss us.” There was a smile in his voice. “I suppose you
want to talk to Davy.”

“Is he close by?” Bree managed to ask.

“He’s outside. I can call him.”

“No, wait! I wanted to talk to you.” Bree swallowed. “Who is
Lanna?”

“Who?”

Rob’s voice sounded strained, Bree thought. “Lanna. Lanna March.
She just called here and told me the two of you are in love.”

“What?” Rob’s voice sharpened. “What are you talking about? Are
you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Are you?”

“You seem pretty certain of it. You’ve found me guilty and pronounced
my sentence, all without a trial.” His voice was tight and clipped.

Bree ran a hand through her newly cut hair. Rob was going to have a
fit when he saw how she’d hacked off her long tresses. She gave an exasperated
sigh. “The woman called here, Rob. Do you hear me? She actually
called here and told me if I loved you, I would give you a divorce.”

“That’s ludicrous! Are you making this up?”

Bree’s temper flared to an even higher pitch. “You can’t twist this and
blame me. I’m not the one having an affair.”

“I’m not having an affair!”

“Well, you can have your divorce! But I’m not going to be the one to
tell Davy his father is a faithless, conniving philanderer.” She slammed the
phone into its cradle and burst into tears.

The phone rang, and she paced back and forth, refusing to give in to
the urge to answer it. She knew it was Rob, and she couldn’t listen to his
lies.

The afternoon inched by at a glacial speed. The phone rang periodically,
and she finally took it off the hook.

Rob was due home by six. When he still wasn’t there by eight, she told
herself she didn’t care. He was probably with his lover. The thought made
her burst into tears again. At 8:15 the doorbell rang. She went to the door
and found Mason and Hilary standing there, both of them in tears. Rob’s
plane had gone down somewhere between Iron River and home.

Can I help you?”

Bree was jolted out of her painful memories by the harsh light spilling from the front door of the palatial home. Music echoed from the house as well. Bree recognized the blond woman who stood framed
by the light from the room as Barbara McGovern, wife of the man who owned Rock Harbor Savings and Loan.

“We’d like to see Steve Asters,” Mason said.

Behind Barbara, Steve Asters stood talking to a curvaceous red-head who wore a tight black dress, slit up the side practically to her waist. He glanced up, and his gaze met Bree’s. His smile faded.

Barbara motioned to Steve, and he came slowly toward them. The fear in his expression heightened when he saw Mason standing behind her.

“Did you find Fay?” Steve directed his question to Bree. The color leached from his face, leaving him as pale as sand.

Bree gave an almost imperceptible nod. Suddenly, she wanted to be anywhere but in this stuffy room full of cigarette smoke and the scent of booze and perfume. The stress of the day bore down on her in an overwhelming rush of weariness.

Mason cleared his throat. “Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”

Steve glanced at Barbara with a question in his eyes. Barbara’s frown deepened, but she nodded. “Follow me.” She led them down the hall to a study lined with bookshelves. “I’ll be with my guests if you need me.” Closing the door behind her, she left them alone with Steve.

Steve ran a finger over the oak bookshelf nearest to him then thrust his hands in his pockets. “Is Fay all right?” Gazing at Mason, he seemed to be avoiding Bree’s eyes.

“No, sir, I’m afraid she’s not,” Mason said gravely.

Steve blanched. “Is she injured?”

Mason cleared his throat. “I’m afraid she’s dead, Steve. We found her at the base of Eagle Rock. Or I should say, the dogs found her.”

Steve’s gaze finally shifted to Bree, and she saw the shock and pain in his eyes. And something else as well. Was it guilt? She’d always heard murder was usually committed by someone close to the victim. Steve’s contact with the red-headed bombshell made him more suspicious.

Steve swayed on his feet, and Bree reached out a hand to steady him. He jerked away from her grasp and walked to the window. The blinds were open, but the window reflected the light, and it was impossible to look out. Still, Steve stood staring at the window. Was he trying to gain time to think? Bree exchanged a glance with Mason. The sheriff seemed as puzzled as she felt.

Steve turned around. His eyes were dry, and he nodded to them. “I appreciate you both coming to tell me in person. Where is her body? Do I need to identify her or anything?”

Mason nodded. “The ambulance took her to the coroner’s office. They’ll do an autopsy.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Why? You said she fell. I told her a thousand times she was going to fall and break her neck one of these days.”

He was babbling. It sounded like guilt to her. She mentally shook her head. She’d watched too many episodes of
Murder, She Wrote
. This was Steve Asters, the man who had loaned her the money to buy her lighthouse, the respected manager of the bank, not some heartless murderer. Grief caused people to say and do strange things. She resolved to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Actually, there is some question as to the cause of death. Once we get some tests back from the lab, we’ll know if we’re dealing with an accident . . . or something else,” Mason said.

Steve’s face paled even more. “I don’t understand.” He swiped a shaking hand through his hair.

“It’s possible someone killed her and then put her body at the cliff base to make it look like an accident.”

“Murder?” Steve’s lips barely moved, and he swayed where he stood. He held his hands out in front of him, and Bree noticed the tremble in them. “Next you’ll be saying I did it! But I’ve been here all evening. Ask anyone.”

Mason nodded. “Shall we drive you to the morgue?”

Steve’s face flushed, and he raised his voice. “I know what you’re
thinking! It’s always the husband. Well, I loved Fay!” He paced in front of the window as his voice rose.

“Steve, no one is accusing you of anything.” Mason followed him and touched his arm, but he jerked away.

Steve turned and stomped to the door. “If you want to talk to me, you can contact my attorney.” He slammed the door behind him, and an oil painting of the Porcupine Mountains fell to the floor with a crash.

Bree picked it up. One corner of the frame was chipped. She felt rather battered herself. This night had brought back too many memories.

7

N
icholls’s Finnish Imports was already buzzing with the news of Fay’s death by the time Bree arrived Monday morning at nine. She worked as a salesclerk in the store three days a week, and though the money supplemented the insurance Rob had left, the real reason she enjoyed her job was that it awarded her time with Anu.

The aroma of Anu’s famous cardamom rolls filled the store from the bakery at the back. As well as Finnish imports, the store sold Finnish pastries and desserts. Eini Kantola, forty and as round as a snowman, rushed to greet Bree. “The radio said you found Fay’s body!” She tsk-tsked, a habit that set Bree’s teeth on edge. Eini’s hazel eyes were bright with curiosity. Several customers turned eager faces their direction.

Bree blinked at the bombardment then nodded. “Yes, I found her.”

“I thought she would come to a bad end.” Sheba McDonald sniffed. Sheba made everything in town her business. With a husband who had been the county court judge for going on forty years, she knew secrets that should never be told, though she was never reticent to reveal many of them.

Sheba’s hands stilled their rummaging through the sweaters, and she moved closer. “I’d seen her with that old boyfriend. If you ask me, that baby of hers probably wasn’t even Steve’s.”

She turned to her friend Janelle Calumet, and they both began to discuss Fay’s shortcomings. Bree heard mention of Steve’s money troubles. So that was common knowledge as well. Surely Mason had heard the rumors too.

Eini looked at Bree. “They’re saying Steve needed money in a bad way these days. I wonder if Fay had insurance.”

Anu wiped her floury hands on the red chef’s apron she wore. “Eini, it is unseemly to display such nosiness,” she said softly. “Please return to working on the display for the Arabia china.”

Eini’s face fell in a comical expression of chagrin and disappointed petulance. “I’m almost done with that. Aren’t you even curious about Fay’s death, eh?” She turned away and went back to arranging plates on display shelves.

Bree took off her coat and went to hang it in the back room. “Thanks,” she whispered as she passed Anu.

Anu followed her. “Don’t thank me,
kulta.
I must admit to curiosity myself, but Hilary filled me in this morning. Did you sleep?”

“Not much,” Bree admitted.

Anu nodded. “Come, have some coffee with me. Eini can handle the store for a bit.” A battered table painted white with mismatched chairs sat in the middle of the break room at the back. Bree sat at the table while Anu poured them both a cup of coffee then joined her. “So, I think there is something more on your mind this morning than finding Fay’s body. I’m here if you wish to talk.”

“You always are,” Bree said with a fond smile. “Mason told you it might be murder, right?”

Anu’s blue eyes saddened. “Yes, he told me this grim news, though he tried to downplay it.”

“You realize it has to be someone we know.”

Anu nodded, and a shadow crossed her face. “I cannot imagine any of our friends committing such a crime.”

“Everyone wears a mask, Anu. Everyone but you, that is. Sometimes I look at my friends and wonder what they really think and whether they’re hiding something important from me.”

“What has caused this cynicism, eh?” Anu shook her head. “It saddens me,
kulta
. Do you have suspects yet? Hilary mentioned no one.”

“Several come to my mind. I haven’t discussed it with Mason yet, but I couldn’t sleep last night for worrying about which of my friends could have done something like this.” It was after two the last time she’d looked at the clock.