When Rachel left, Skye loaded the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and wiped clean the kitchen counters without being asked to, a sure sign that she was still in shock. Afterward, Adrienne announced she needed to lie down for a while, and Skye curled up beside her on the bed as she hadn’t done for years. Brandon abandoned his plush cushion in the living room, stretched out on the floor beside them, and in two minutes began snoring loudly.
Meanwhile, Skye stared at the ceiling, clearly suffering the same nervous weariness as Adrienne, but unable to sleep. “Do you think Rachel loves Drew Delaney?” she asked after a few minutes.
“I hope not. He’s old enough to be her father.”
“You used to date him. Rachel told me.”
“I dated him about a century ago.”
“And then you met Daddy.”
“I already knew Daddy. I just didn’t know how much I liked him until he finally asked me out. We got married a year later.”
“So you really liked him!”
“Yes. I really loved him. I always will.”
“Me, too.” Skye reached out and touched a strand of Adrienne’s hair, twisting it gently around her finger like she’d done since she was a toddler. “Mom, I think there’s trouble between Aunt Vicky and Rachel. They fight a lot.”
Adrienne sighed. She was desperate for a nap, a brief escape from the horror of the morning, but now was not the time to push away her daughter. “I think Vicky is having trouble with Rachel becoming an adult. She’s twenty. In less than a year she’ll be a college graduate. And she’s so independent, so self-sufficient. I think Vicky is upset about losing her little girl. She tries to cling to her, and the harder she clings, the harder Rachel tries to pull away. So they end up arguing.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense. But Mom?” “Yes?”
“I’ll never want to pull away from you. I’ll always want to be just as close as we are right now.”
Adrienne smiled. “I wish that were true, but a day will come when you’ll find hanging out with me to be a colossal drag. But it’s natural, honey. It’s just part of growing up. I promise to handle it a little better than Vicky is doing.” She paused. “At least, I’ll try.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop hanging out with you.” Skye yawned hugely. “I’m having a good time talking to you, but I’m so sleepy I can’t keep my eyes open. Can we take a nap together?”
Adrienne smiled. “It would be my pleasure, sweetie.”
Adrienne awakened with a heavy, dazed feeling, as if she’d taken a sleeping pill. She glanced at the bedside clock and saw that three hours had passed. Skye lay curled into a fetal position beside her, and Brandon still snored by the bed. Adrienne wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, to block out the afternoon, but she knew if she slept more now, she would never sleep tonight. Reluctantly, she quietly got up and padded into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.
The coffee did little to clear her head, but she was at least capable of coherent speech when Lucas Flynn called half an hour later. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck, and the bad thing is, I don’t think the reality of the whole thing has even hit me yet.”
“Losing anyone you love is bad, but it’s even worse when the person is young and vibrant and, worst of all, a murder victim. You have all that rage on top of the grief.”
“I felt rage when Trey died, but it was different. I was mad at him for being so stupid as to ride a motorcycle he couldn’t handle. Julianna didn’t do anything stupid.”
“Didn’t she? She wasn’t spending the night at the Belle of the hell of it. It’s pretty evident she was having an affair.”
“I didn’t know anything about it, and Julianna wasn’t one for keeping secrets.”
“Well, she had at least one she didn’t share.”
Adrienne knew he was right, but she didn’t want to admit it to the county sheriff no matter how obvious it was. Instead, she said, “You sound tired, Lucas.”
“I am. That’s the problem with being a sheriff in a relatively quiet county. Not a lot of murders, thank God, particularly not like this one. I’ve lost my stamina.”
“Have you found out anything about who might have been with Julianna at the Belle?”
“No. Of course, the trace evidence is still being checked, although in a hotel room, working with trace is a nightmare, even if the room hasn’t been officially rented for a year. Also, there are no fingerprints. None. Someone spent a lot of time wiping down that place.”
“What about Claude?” Adrienne nervously carried the receiver of the cordless phone to the front window and looked out at the paperboy jamming today’s edition of the Register into the paper box at the end of her driveway. “Could he have murdered Julianna? I mean, I know Claude wasn’t having an affair with her, for God’s sake, but he could have been jealous of whoever was. He could have murdered her to punish her.”
“I’ll admit he makes the perfect suspect. Erratic, unstable, possessive. Mrs. Kirkwood shouldn’t have kept him around, even if he did take over just as the Belle was closing and there wasn’t much damage he could do to the place, not that she cared anyway. But you saw him this morning. Do you think he was alert enough to wipe away all the fingerprints? And why would he even bother? There’s a logical reason for him being there. Besides, Claude has an alibi. He got lucky last night at that topless bar just out of town, the Cat’s Meow. Met a young lady named Pandora Avalon.”
Adrienne stopped pacing. “Please don’t try to convince me that’s her real name.”
“No. It’s Maud Dorfman. Anyway, the forty-four-year-old Miss Avalon went home with Claude for a night of unbridled passion. She swears she was at his cottage until the sound of the crash woke them. According to her, she got out of there as fast as she could, leaving Claude heaving into the commode from downing too much bourbon the night before. She said, and I quote, ‘I never saw nobody puke so hard. I thought his damned stomach was gonna spew right up outta his mouth.'”
“I always thought Claude would be a fun date,” Adrienne said drolly.
“Yes. Along with his ax. The idiot. Anyway, I don’t think he was in any shape to have killed Julianna, much less brushed her hair and posed her so carefully on the bed before he came reeling down the hill to get me at the site of the wreck.”
“Do you think there was any connection between the wreck and the murder?”
“No. Two fifteen-year-olds were illegally driving one of the cars. They caused the wreck and they both died. The three people in the other car were seriously injured. None of them claims to have known Julianna, not to mention that two of them are Amish. The Amish aren’t known for lying, or for Covering for murderers, if you’re thinking the driver of the car they were in could have been the killer.”
“That leaves Claude. Do you believe he’s completely in the clear?”
“I don’t think he killed her, but I have a feeling he may know more than he’s saying. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to arrest people based on my feelings.”
“You should speak to someone about that.”
“Maybe your brother-in-law. I’m sure he’s going to be our next governor.”
“I hope so. Otherwise, Vicky’s going to have a tough time over the next few years. Philip doesn’t take defeat well. He’s one of those golden boys who almost always get what they want.” She sighed. “That was a bitchy thing to say.”
“It was truthful. I can’t say I’m a Philip Hamilton fan, either, but I’ll probably vote for him.”
“Not because of me, I hope.”
“No. Because he’s the lesser of two evils.”
Adrienne laughed. “I guess you should know. After all, you used to work for him. Still, I’ll pass along the compliment.”
“I worked for him many years ago when I was young and stupid. I’ve always hoped people would forget about my tenure with the Hamilton camp. Besides, nowadays he’s not crazy about me, either. He was dead set against my becoming sheriff.”
“He can’t charm you. Philip doesn’t like it when he can’t charm people. Then he can’t use them, and using people is what he does best.” Adrienne paused. “Clearly the nap I took with Skye didn’t do much to improve my disposition.”
“You’ve just lost one of your closest friends. It’ll take more than a nap to make you feel better. And to make things worse, we can’t find Julianna’s mother.”
“Lottie? She’s missing?”
“She hasn’t been home all day, and no one we’ve talked to has seen her.”
“My God! Do you think something happened to her, too?”
“There’s no sign of violence at her place.”
“But it’s in the woods not far from the Belle. She could be anywhere around there, hurt, maybe even dead.”
“We’ve been searching the woods. There’s no reason to think she hasn’t just gone wandering. She does that sometimes.” Adrienne sensed that Lucas wasn’t as calm about Lottie as he was trying to sound. “How’s Skye doing?”
“I’m not sure. She seems all right, given the circumstances, but kids can keep a lot to themselves. When Trey was killed, she was sad but calm for over a week. Then nightmares, storms of sobbing, and depression started. It was nearly six months before I got back my sunny little girl.”
“Poor kid. Now this. I know she liked Julianna.”
“What wasn’t to like? She was beautiful, fun, a former model, for heaven’s sake. Julianna and Rachel were Skye’s idols.”
“Rachel is probably the better role model. She seems like an exemplary girl. Julianna, on the other hand … well, no disrespect, but with her problems with drugs—”
“Former problems,” Adrienne said stiffly, immediately defensive about her friend. “Julianna worked hard at getting herself straightened out and she never returned to her old life for fear of messing up again. I admired her tremendously for that. I think everyone should.”
“Yes, I suppose so. But I need to warn you and Skye not to tell Rachel or anyone else the details of the crime scene. You haven’t already, have you?”
“No, although Rachel was here at lunch.”
“Good. You know the drill—we like to keep some things secret so that when the nuts come in and start confessing, we can trip them up on details.”
“Yes, indeed. I know the drill from all my reading of murder mysteries. And Skye will keep her lips sealed if she knows the order has come from you.”
“Good girls.”
“Women. Smart, savvy women. Both of us.”
“Yes, ma’am!” His laugh sounded weary and strained. “I’m going to let you go, now. Talking about what happened can only be making you feel worse. Watch some television or read if you can. And try to get a good night’s sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Lucas. I’m sorry for my bad temper when we had to stay at the hotel so long this morning until you could question us.”
“You never need to apologize to me.” Which was true, Adrienne thought. Lucas was always kind, always patient, always earnest, always doing the exactly the right and responsible thing. A good, steady man. “Love you, Adrienne. Good night.”
“’Night, Lucas,” she said quickly, wishing she could say, “Love you, too.” But she couldn’t. She hung up the phone feeling frayed and mean, unworthy and ungrateful. But at least she hadn’t been dishonest. Small comfort, she thought miserably. They should put on my tombstone, “Adrienne was a bitch, but she had integrity.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said aloud. “Now you’re wallowing in self-pity.”
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
Skye stood at the entrance to the living room, looking rumpled and depressed.
“I’m indulging in self-analysis.”
“Oh.” She yawned. “That’s weird.”
“Tell me about it.” Adrienne put the phone receiver back on the cradle. “Neither one of us finished even one sandwich earlier. Hungry?”
“Yeah. But I don’t really want to hang around here. The house seems lonely and sad this evening. Could we go to Fox’s for pizza?”
Adrienne thought of the warm little restaurant with its huge portions of food, and occasional spirited performance on karaoke night. “That’s a wonderful idea.” She glanced out the window. “But a storm is predicted, although everything looks fine now. Get your windbreaker. And don’t wake up Brandon. He’ll want to go with us.”
“I’m going to be too fat to get into my jeans tomorrow,” Skye announced an hour later before she popped a bit of pizza into her mouth.
“You could use a couple of extra pounds, kiddo. You’re getting taller but not putting on weight.” Adrienne frowned. “You’re not doing anything unhealthy to keep your weight down, are you?”
“You mean like throwing up after I eat?” Skye made a face. “No way. That’s so gross. Besides, Fox’s Pizza Den has the best pizzas I ever ate. It would be sacrilege to eat one, then throw it up.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Adrienne said, biting into what she swore was going to be her last piece.
It was karaoke night and an intrepid soul approached the microphone. After some adjusting, unnecessary blowing into the live mike, and murmuring “testing, testing,” he gradually slipped into a rendition of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” by the Righteous Brothers. The longer he sang, the more confidence he gained and the louder he got Unfortunately, he couldn’t sing. At all. Although the guy was clearly pouring his heart into the song, he was slaughtering it
Skye and Adrienne struggled not to giggle. Finally Skye got enough control to ask, “Do you remember a couple of months ago when Julianna talked you into getting up there?”
Adrienne rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. She was driving because I drank beer and way too much of it. Please don’t remind me.”
“I can’t help it.” Skye’s eyes twinkled. “You were singing that disco song—”
“Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive.'”
“You were flinging your arms around and making all these faces! And your voice …” Skye nearly doubled over with laughter. “Mom, you were just awful”
“Thank you, sweetheart. It’s so considerate of you to bring up one of the most mortifying nights of my life.”
“Maybe it was mortifying for you, but everyone else was getting a big kick out of it. Especially Julianna. She kept nudging me, trying to get me not to laugh. I couldn’t help it, though. I’m sorry. But when you announced you were going to sing another one, I started thinking maybe we could never come here again because of the big embarrassment factor.”
“Thank goodness Julianna came up on stage.” Adrienne smiled, abashed, at the memory. “She had to literally push me away from the microphone and insist that it was her turn.” Adrienne shook her head. “And darn it if she didn’t do a great job with ‘Wild Horses.'”
Skye smiled. “You were mad as all get out for a few minutes, but you got over it quick. And Juli was good. People kept asking her to sing other things, but she wouldn’t, not even when a guy tossed a whole dollar up on the stage!” She giggled. “Juli took that dollar over and put it in the can for donations for the volunteer fire department and then carried the can around until she got everyone to do the same.” Skye’s remembered pleasure lasted only a minute before her face abruptly fell into sad lines. “I’m gonna miss Julianna so much.”
“Me too, honey. We had a lot of fun together over the years.”
“I wonder if Kit knows about Juli yet.”
‘I’m sure she does by now. I’m also sure she’s at her restaurant, but I don’t want to bother her there. I’ll bet Kit’s been with her mother all day, trying to calm her down, and now she’s bone tired.”
“Mrs. Kirkwood looked half-dead when we saw her going into the hotel to see Lucas. And Julianna’s body. Mr. Kirkwood looked scared.” Skye reached for another slice of pizza and began picking off pieces of sweet pepper before she asked reluctantly, “Do you suppose Julianna was at the Belle with him?”
“Who? Gavin Kirkwood? Good heavens, why would you think that?”
“Because I know he fools around with other women. I heard Kit telling you about it. I wasn’t eavesdropping, really and truly. Kit was just talking loud because she was mad and I was in the next room. Anyway, she said her mother shouldn’t have married a guy fourteen years younger than her, and that her mother shouldn’t have let him adopt her—Kit—so she had to go around with his last name, and that he married Ellen for her money and that he had affairs all the time.”
Adrienne listened, fascinated. “Wow, you heard a lot and remembered every bit of it.”
“Mom, you know I want to write murder mysteries. I have to pay attention to details. For my writing, you see.”
“Certainly you do.”
“Anyway, Gavin is pretty good looking for such an old guy,” Skye went on in a professional voice. Adrienne smothered a smile. Gavin Kirkwood was only forty-five. “He’d have keys to the Belle, and like you said, Claude’s an awful caretaker, so it would be really easy for Mr. Kirkwood to sneak in all the time. And you said Julianna was probably with some married guy.”
“I shouldn’t have said that about a married man.”
“You were too upset to watch what you were saying. But I know about things like that, Mom. You think she was having an affair.”
“Really? I’m fascinated.” Adrienne took a sip of iced tea. She’d lost her appetite and left the rest of the pizza for Skye. She went on, being careful to make her voice neutral. “Did Julianna ever say anything to make you think she was involved with Gavin?”
“No. And I don’t like to think she’d do something that would hurt Kit’s mom. But at one of the parties at Aunt Vicky’s house, I saw them talking together a lot. Mr. Kirkwood kept touching Julianna’s arm. Rachel said to me, ‘I wonder what he’s got on his mind?'” Skye leaned forward and whispered, “She meant sex” she explained to a mother she clearly thought was not as worldly-wise as the sophisticated Rachel.
“Oh, I see,” Adrienne managed solemnly. “Did Julianna seem to especially like Gavin?”
“No-o. Not really. She treated him pretty much like she did everyone else—nice, friendly, interested in what they were saying even when I knew she was bored.” Skye paused. “She didn’t act that way around Margaret, though. She didn’t like Margaret, Mom, and Margaret didn’t like Juli. Maybe she was jealous of Juli, although she doesn’t like Rachel, either. I don’t know how anyone couldn’t like Rachel. She’s so great.”
“Maybe,” Adrienne said distractedly as she thought about how Skye’s closeness to Rachel could cause a problem. “Honey, you know you shouldn’t tell Rachel anything about Julianna, about how we found her. The clasp in her hair, the candles, all that stuff.”
“I already told her a little bit at lunch.”
“But that’s all you can say. No more.”
Skye drew back, appalled. “But she’s my cousin and my best friend. I tell her everything!”
“She’s also a reporter, Skye. She’d probably tell her editor, Drew Delaney, and they might decide to put the details in the newspaper. The police don’t want that. Lucas is counting on us to keep this information confidential.”
“He is?”
“He definitely is. He told me so.”
Skye sighed. “Okay. If it’s that important to Lucas, I won’t tell anyone, even though it was so weird I’m just bursting to tell someone.”
“Only talk to me when you can’t hold it in anymore.”
“But you don’t know anything I don’t,” Skye complained. “Somebody else might know who could hate Julianna enough to kill her, then fix her up so nice.”
“That’s for the police to figure out, not us,” Adrienne said firmly, feeling a chill as the whole morning came flooding back to her in wretched detail, including the fear she’d felt before they found Julianna. “Now promise me.”
“All right, I promise.” Skye looked sulky as another local person dared the microphone and began a wrenching version of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game.” By the end of the song, Skye’s pique seemed to have passed. She looked at Adrienne, her forehead scrunched in thought. “You remember this morning when I was in the woods with Brandon? Well, I think someone else was there, too. I didn’t really see anybody, but I sort of felt somebody.”
“Felt somebody?”
“Yeah. You know how it is when you feel someone watching you, then you turn around and someone is looking at you? It was like that, only I didn’t see anyone. I’m not saying this right.”
“Yes you are.” Adrienne’s heart had begun to drum uncomfortably. “I had the same feeling. I even thought I saw someone dodging behind trees, trying not to be seen. That’s why I kept calling for you to come back. I was uneasy.” Adrienne trailed off, then grabbed her jacket hanging on the back of her chair, dug her hand in the pocket, and withdrew her camera. “I took pictures of what I thought was a person so if it turned out the hotel had been vandalized or robbed, a photo could help the police identify someone.”
“That was really smart.” Mr. “Wicked Game” had now begun a version of “Where the Streets Have No Name” that Bono of U2 would never recognize. “So if the person who killed Julianna was hiding in the woods, you might have a picture of him!” Skye’s expression froze. “Mom, a murderer could have been right there in the woods with Brandon and me!”
Adrienne nodded, not wanting to reveal her horror to Skye, who suddenly looked frightened. “Honey, I’d like to take the film in to Photo Finish tonight. It will be developed and ready for pickup by morning, and I can give it to Lucas. Do you mind if we leave now?”
“No. I’m too full for more pizza. Let’s go before the storm starts.”
Adrienne rapidly paid their bill and Skye waved to the restaurant’s owner before they ran out the front door. Adrienne looked up in dismay. The sky had turned from the cornflower blue of the afternoon to a dark heliotrope. She drove quickly downtown, but the street in front of Photo Finish was blocked because it had just been repaved. She had to park around the corner and halfway down the next street. When she stepped from the car, wind whipped her long hair and she gathered a handful of it and tucked it beneath the collar of her jacket.
Adrienne looked up at the sky. “We’re really in for it tonight.”
“If there’s thunder, Brandon will be scared to death,” Skye said loudly above the noise of the wind.
“Brandon is a one-hundred-pound baby. He’ll get in the bathtub if he feels a storm coming. I don’t know why he thinks he’ll be safe there.”
“He must have heard you should get in a tub if a hurricane is coming. Or is it an earthquake?”
“It’s a tornado.”
“Oh. Whatever.” They hurried past Criminal Records and Skye glanced in the big front window. “Mom, there’s Sherry and her mother!”
“Sherry?”
“Sherry Granger. I told you about her. She sat next to me in history last year. She’s semicool.”
“Semicool?”
“Yeah. I think there’s real hope for her this year since her braces came off and she’s gotten her lisp under control. Can I go in here while you go on to Photo Finish? I’ve been saving for a CD by Matchbox Twenty.”
Adrienne didn’t like the idea of having her little girl out of her sight on this particular evening, but a chilly rain already pelted her shoulders. Skye had just gotten over a particularly stubborn cold that had lasted two weeks. Adrienne didn’t want her daughter to get sick again because she’d dragged her around in bad weather.
“Okay, go in, but stay with Sherry and her mother. If they leave before I come back to get you, wait in the store for me.”
“All right.”
“Don’t leave the store after you get your CD and head for Photo Finish in this bad weather.”
“I won’t.”
“And Skye?”
“What?” the girl asked, annoyance edging her voice.
“If you get a rap instead of a rock CD, I’ll make you ride out the storm in a tent in the backyard.”
Skye giggled. “No rap. I don’t like it any better than you do. See you in a few minutes.”
Adrienne watched as Skye dashed into the store and made for the lucky Sherry, who apparently was evolving from semi to totally cool. Sherry looked delighted to see Skye and the two girls hugged. Both of their mouths began to move rapidly and simultaneously as they exchanged apparently earth-shattering news. Goodness, Adrienne thought. Had she ever been so young and joyous? Yes. She, Julianna, and Kit had acted just like Skye and Sherry.
Adrienne pushed on, hoping the darkening sky held on to the rest of the rain until she’d dropped off her film, then went by to pick up Skye. But just as the thought formed, thunder rolled low and threatening. A perfect end to an awful day, Adrienne thought dismally. She feared lightning, and Brandon became crazed at the sound of thunder. No doubt he would keep her and Skye awake for the rest of the night.
She turned a corner and started down the side street where Photo Finish nestled between two empty stores halfway down the block. The town of Point Pleasant’s business district had been shrinking for about ten years. Her father, who had been on the city council, fretted constantly about owners of downtown buildings who continued to raise rents, encouraging businesses to abandon them for spots in the mall just outside of town. Dad had good reason to worry, Adrienne thought. This street was deserted, even though it was a Friday night when most businesses stayed open until eight o’clock.
The wind blew a Styrofoam cup against her leg. A raindrop smacked her in the eye. “Damn!” she muttered, wiping at her closed lid. Now she’d have a half-moon of mascara below her eye, not to mention that the water had hit with enough force to actually hurt.
Adrienne stopped for a moment and fumbled in her purse for a tissue. Just as she found one, she heard footsteps behind her. Walking fast. Now running.
Instinct and leftover panic from the morning made her whirl around. Wind blew her hair across her face, completely blinding her. Her heart beat furiously. She shouted in a high, thin voice, “Who’s there?”
Grabbing at her wind-tossed hair with one hand, Adrienne clutched her purse with the other, intending to swing it as a weapon. But she didn’t get a chance. Someone rushed at her, powerfully spinning her around and throwing her facedown on the sidewalk. Breath rushed from her lungs. Dazed and terrified, she kicked backward, but the attacker’s weight rested high on her back, out of range of her flailing legs, pinning her arms. Thunder rolled again, closer and louder. Then a hand grabbed her hair, lifted up her head, and slammed her forehead onto the concrete sidewalk. The sound of the storm dulled and Adrienne’s sight went from gray to black.