Eric and I went over and over what happened that morning and I showed him every step I took, starting with parking my car by the garage and walking him down the central hall and into the ballroom. He wanted to know why I was driven to open the butler’s-pantry door first thing and I told him I wanted to see how far my dad and his crew had gone with the drywall.
That was the easiest question to answer. They got harder after that.
“What did you think when you saw his tools scattered on the floor?”
“Honestly? At first, it didn’t make sense to me at all. I thought something must’ve happened to distract him, because ordinarily my father would never leave tools out like that.”
“Never?”
“Never,” I insisted. “My sister and I used to hang out on his construction sites when we were little kids and even back then, Dad was adamant about discipline. Tidying up at the end of the day. Taking care of your tools. He even insisted that his crew wear clean clothes every day. He was convinced that it not only instilled self-respect in his guys, but it also showed their clients that they had respect for the job. And all of that went a long way toward building his guys’ self-confidence. And it led to more jobs for everyone. It was all connected. This was a big deal to him.”
“So you figured he was distracted last night?”
“Yes.”
He considered for a moment. “After all those years of building up discipline and self-respect, why would you think he was distracted last night?”
My shoulders sagged. “Oh, boy. You can’t tell him I said this.”
Eric folded his strong arms across his chest. “Just go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking.”
“All right.” Oh God. Did this make me a traitorous daughter? It felt weird talking about my father behind his back. Even to Eric. Still, it wasn’t like I had a choice. “See, Dad hasn’t worked a steady construction job in almost five years. I mean, he helped Uncle Pete add a new room onto his winery, but that was mostly supervising. So I’ll admit I was nervous about him working here with me. And then Wade’s dad showed up to help and that doubled my worries.”
“Phil Chambers? Why would you worry about him?”
“Phil used to be my father’s foreman. A couple of their former crew members showed up to help, too, so the old gang was back together again. They were having a great time, reliving their glory days, I guess. I thought Dad might overdo it, trying to look tough in front of his buddies. I was concerned that they would egg each other on and try to outdo each other, and someone would end up spraining their back or worse.”
“Because they’re a bunch of old guys.”
“I never said old, but yeah. That’s why I asked you not to tell him.”
“I won’t say a word. But your father seems too smart and businesslike to mess around like that.”
“I agree. I was wrong, okay?” It was lowering to admit that I had been acting like a jackass about the man who had taught me everything I knew. “I don’t know what came over me. I was like the paranoid parent and he was my unruly child.”
Eric bit back a smile. “Sounds like it.”
Great. Even he was amused. I quickly got back on track. “Anyway, when I saw all the tools lying around, I thought my nightmare scenario had come true. That Dad and the guys had been screwing around on the job and forgot to tidy up.” I gazed up at him. “Little did I know, the real nightmare was waiting for me behind the pantry door.”
Eric paused at that, then pointed to the ax sheath lying on the tarp. “What did you think when you saw that?”
“Oh God.” It physically hurt to look at it and I rubbed my eyes. “I thought Dad had been showing off his new toy to his buddies.”
“So you still had no inkling that something might be wrong.”
“None at all.” I threw my hands up. “Why would I? My only thought was that I would have to try to curtail my father’s shenanigans.”
Eric nodded thoughtfully, then gazed at me with a troubled expression. “And when you saw the ax sticking out of Potter’s neck? What did you think then?”
I shivered. He was being brutally straightforward for my own good, I supposed, to get me to talk. But ugh. “It made me sick. My mind went blank for a few seconds and I screamed. I raced to get out of there as fast as I could. And as soon as I could think clearly, like maybe a minute or two later, I called you.”
“And when did you call your father?”
“As soon as I hung up from talking to you.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, Eric and I walked out of the ballroom through the French doors and circled around to the front of the house where we found Wade sitting and talking to Dad.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said to my foreman. I had called him right before I went with Eric to tell him what had happened and to ask him to call the other contractors. I wanted them to show up after lunch instead of first thing this morning.
Wade stood. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I still can’t believe it, Shannon.” He waved one hand at Dad. “I’m sitting here talking to your father about this and we’re both in shock. Do you know how it happened? Who did it?”
“I have no idea. I’m leaving it to the police to figure it out.” I glanced at Eric, who gave me a twisted smile. He knew my penchant for tracking down murderers. It was a bad habit of mine. I had no idea how it had become a habit, but there we were.
Eric’s gaze was fixed on me. “We’ll be talking some more.”
I nodded, taking his words as a promise, not a threat. Even though it was sometimes hard to tell with Eric.
Wade and I walked away so the police chief could talk to my father privately, but once we were out of sight on the side of the house, Wade stopped and glanced down at me, his expression troubled. “This is really bad. What in the world happened here last night?”
“You said you talked to Dad about it.”
“Yeah. So Potter’s dead, killed by Jack’s ax. He said you found the body and saw the ax sticking out of his neck.”
I swallowed uneasily. “That pretty much sums it up. And please don’t mention the ax or anything else to anyone. It’s evidence.”
“Jeez, Shannon, tell me the truth. Are you okay?”
“Right now I’m fine, but I’ll probably fall apart at some point this afternoon when nobody’s watching.” I smiled. “And there will be some bad dreams tonight. Seriously, though, my biggest fear is that they’ll arrest my father. But they shouldn’t, because he didn’t do it.”
“Of course not.”
“And luckily there are plenty of suspects to go around.”
“How do you know? I mean, yeah, Potter was a jackass, but how many people would actually be inclined to kill him?”
“Better to ask how many wouldn’t. Heck, I’m not a violent person and even I wanted to take a shot at him once or twice yesterday. I saw at least six different people fighting with him. He seemed to enjoy enraging everyone he talked to. Including me, by the way. So if Dad goes to jail, I may feel compelled to start naming the others I saw fighting with the old goat.”
“He was an egotistical tyrant,” Wade said darkly. “The man made everyone’s life a misery and he was ruining this job site. I don’t think it’s out of line to say that anyone who’s ever had to deal with him should be considered a suspect.”
“Probably true.” We began walking with no particular end point in mind. It was a cold, crisp morning, close to freezing with the temperature hovering in the mid-thirties. The pine trees lining the property looked stunning against the clear blue sky. I knew it would warm up as the sun rose higher, but right now I shivered and zipped my vest up for warmth.
“So who are all these suspects you’re talking about?”
I grimaced. “Well, there’s my father, for one.”
“Yeah, I overheard their argument myself.”
“You and everyone on the property heard it.” I sighed. “Santa Claus Steve heard it, and Potter’s secretary. And probably most of the volunteers who were standing right outside the glass doors.”
“The crew in apartment two heard everything, too,” Wade told me. “That’s where I was working before I came into the ballroom.”
“Oh, great. More witnesses against him.” And that reminded me that I would have to deal with the venting issues. It would be a real problem if the new tenants could overhear conversations in other apartments.
“Don’t worry, your dad will be fine.” Wade gave me a hearty pat on the back. “Everyone in town loves him and hated Potter. It’s gonna be okay.”
“From your lips,” I muttered.
“So who else did you see Potter fighting with?”
“I’m not sure that they were fighting, but Blake said he saw that woman April, the Santa Slapper, talking to Potter up in the attic.”
“Potter was up in the attic?”
“Yeah. Don’t ask me why. I have no idea. He sure got around, though, didn’t he?”
“Sure did.”
Now that I’d brought it up, I was recalling more of my conversation with Blake yesterday. “Blake thinks Potter and April were looking for something up there.”
“In the attic?”
“Yeah. I guess they didn’t know we already moved everything over to the garage last week.”
Wade scowled. “If Potter was looking for something up in the attic, I’m doubly glad we moved the stuff.”
“But what were they looking for?” I asked, thinking about it for a long moment. “And why? Maybe we should go look and find it before April does.”
“But what are we looking for?”
I laughed. “I have no idea. And another thing, what’s the connection between those two? I’ve never seen April before yesterday, but she acts like she’s been around here for a while and she obviously knew Potter. And how did they know there was something in the attic worth finding in the first place? Is there some connection between April and Potter and the Foresters? Is that why she volunteered? And what about her accusing Santa Slim of assaulting her? Nobody else saw it happen. I’m not saying it didn’t happen, but I can’t help wondering if she’s trying to pull something over on someone. I mean, who in heck is she?”
Wade was watching me carefully and finally nodded. “You’re good at this, you know?”
“You mean I’m good at asking questions. Too bad I don’t have any answers.”
“Still, maybe Eric should hire you as a detective.”
“Oh, he would love to hear that,” I said, smiling. “I’m nothing but a pain in the neck to him.”
Wade’s eyebrows lifted. “I wouldn’t say so.”
“Trust me.”
We turned and strolled the opposite way down the driveway toward the street, watching for any morning volunteers to arrive. We met several and shepherded them around to the back of the house. I asked them to wait there until everyone else had arrived. There were other pieces of elegant wrought iron patio furniture all along the back veranda, so I knew they would be comfortable enough.
Wade and I continued our stroll. My mind was working, considering several possible theories regarding April, when Wade said, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you did, and I know the circumstances today are grim, but you’ve seemed down for two days now. I didn’t pursue the conversation yesterday, but now I really want to know what’s going on with you.”
I stopped walking and stared at him, but he was gazing so intently at me, I had to look away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He laughed. “You’re a terrible liar. Come on, Shannon. We’ve known each other too long. Yesterday you seemed sort of bummed. You were trying to hide it, but I can usually read you pretty well. And today, well, you’re still unhappy.”
“Because someone’s dead on my job site!” I crossed my arms tightly and gazed at the trees. “Other than that, I haven’t got a clue what you mean.”
“I mean I can tell when you’re off your game, Shannon. It has nothing to do with Potter’s death, because I saw it yesterday. You’re not often out of sorts, but yesterday was one of those rare days. There was the Robbie escape and the whole Bah, humbug thing, and you were late for work. And then today, I don’t know, but . . .” He frowned. “I’m getting a vibe from you.”
“No vibes here,” I insisted, walking faster in the fervent hope that he wouldn’t root out any more of my vibes. Wade was right. I was a terrible liar. “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me.”
He stayed where he was and I finally turned to see him staring at me as if I were a particularly fascinating smear on a microscope. “What?”
“Heard anything from Mac lately?”
My gaze narrowed in on him. “No. Why would I?”
“Ah.” Wade’s lips pursed in thought. “Hmm.”
I glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He laughed. “It means I have my answer as to why you’ve been in such a crabby mood. You miss him.”
“I am never in a crabby mood.”
With a grin, he said, “True, until recently.”
Staring up at the sky, I wondered when, exactly, had I turned into such a transparent doofus? I really had to lighten up about this whole Mac situation. If my own foreman could read my moods so easily, I probably needed to get myself an attitude adjustment.
I flipped my hair back, squared my shoulders, and looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry I’ve let my personal life affect my work environment. It won’t happen again.”
“Hold on a minute. I’m not asking for an apology, Shannon.” He draped his arm across my shoulders and squeezed. “This isn’t affecting your work, pal. I was just asking as your friend. You’re not happy, so I’m concerned.”
It was so unexpected, I almost burst into tears. Wade had been my friend for over twenty-five years. Our fathers had worked together, so we’d often helped out on the same job sites. I had been a bridesmaid in his wedding. We were partners at work. We should have been discussing the problems brought about by Potter’s death and the temporary halting of the Homebuilders project. My feelings for Mac should have been the last thing on our agenda. But since he was a trusted friend and he’d expressed concern, what else could I do but spill my guts?
“You’re right,” I said. “I do miss him. He hasn’t called once since he left for New York and his book tour. And before that, he was in Europe with the Jake Slater film. And in between everything else, he was visiting his family for the Thanksgiving holidays.”
“Sounds like he’s been busy.”
Just what I’d been telling myself. Making excuses for him. But seriously? How long did it take to text “I miss you”? “Yeah, he’s been busy, but apparently he came back to town last night. And you know how I found out? From Lizzie. He’s doing a big book signing at her shop this weekend. And I had no idea.”
He winced on my behalf. “Ouch.”
I appreciated the gesture, since that was exactly how I felt. But enough already. “Look, it’s dumb to even talk about it. He’s got a whole life out there that has nothing to do with me. We had a little flirtation for a while, but it’s over. That’s okay. I figure he was out on the road and had time to rethink this whole thing, and what the heck? He decided to cut me loose. That’s fine. We’ll still be friends.”
“If you want, I’ll go beat him up for you,” he offered, giving me a worried smile.
“Thanks, but you’re the one who taught me how to fight, so I can take care of it myself if I have to.”
“True, but I’d be willing to hit him for you anyway.”
“That’s so sweet, Wade. Thank you.”
“I don’t like to see you unhappy,” he murmured, and wrapped one arm around my shoulders again, this time pulling me in for a friendly hug. “It’s just unnatural.”
I smiled up at him. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”
“Good,” he said firmly, and let me go.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my vest. “Now if the police would just solve Potter’s murder and let us get back to work, I’d be even happier.”
“If only,” he said.
“Let’s go check on Eric and my dad.”
We headed that way, but before we could make it all the way to the front, where we’d left Dad and Eric, I saw a black Jaguar drive up and park. “Oh, great. The icing on the cake.”
Eric strained to see who it was. “Is that Whitney?”
“Yeah.”
“Wonder what she’s doing here.”
“Probably wants to make sure Potter’s really dead,” I muttered, and managed to shock him into silence. “Sorry if that sounded harsh.”
“A little. Where’d that come from?”
I glanced around to make sure we were completely alone. “Before I left here last night, I went around checking all the rooms. I was coming down the hall when Whitney drove up, so I watched from under the stairs to see what she was doing here.”
He smirked. “Under the stairs?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t ready for a confrontation.”
“I don’t blame you. I know you two don’t get along.”
That was putting it mildly. “She took the elevator up to the second floor, where guess who was waiting? Potter. The two of them proceeded to have a rip-roaring fight, yelling and screaming and threatening each other. It was creepy. And a little scary. She was furious when she left.”
“Holy moly.”
“Yeah. So I’m not accusing her of murder or anything, but if Dad is on Eric’s suspect list, she definitely belongs there, too.”
“Wow,” he said, his voice a whisper as we watched Whitney check her makeup in the car mirror. “Do you think Tommy knows she was here?”
“What do you think?”
He thought for a moment. “I doubt it.”
I had to smile. “Interesting, isn’t it? I hate to think of Tommy being upset, but I have to say, it was nice to see Whitney giving someone besides me a hard time.”
“I feel bad about what this might do to Tommy. But he’s married to her. He’s got to know what she’s like.”
“I’m not sure he does,” I murmured, and left it there.
Since Wade had grown up in Lighthouse Cove and we’d known each other since kindergarten, he was well aware of my feelings for Whitney. But I still didn’t feel right mentioning the bitter details of the fight or the fact that Whitney had accused Potter of stealing money from her father. That would be taking friendly gossip to a dangerous new level and I wasn’t ready to go there.
I checked my watch. “I’d better get back to Eric. He wanted to talk to the volunteers and they’re probably all here by now.”
“Okay. Look, since we can’t get any work done until this afternoon, I’m going home to have breakfast with Sandy.”
I smiled. “Give her my love.”
“You bet. I’ll be gone about an hour and a half, but call if you need me sooner.”
“Thanks, Wade.”
He ambled over to the driveway while I took off in the opposite direction. I had left my dad and Eric talking for the past half hour and I was worried. I had a sudden image of Dad being handcuffed and taken off to jail. That spurred me to move faster and I rushed around the corner—and almost rammed right into Whitney.
“You!” She made it sound like an expletive. “What are you doing here?”
She was so full of bluster, I almost laughed. “That would be my question to you since this is my job site.”
She tossed back her perfect fringe of dark hair and eyed me as if I were scum floating on a pond. “I’m looking for Tommy.”
For once she wasn’t wearing stilettos and it occurred to me, not for the first time, that she wore them as part of her basic armor. Evidently she didn’t need them this morning because there was no battle to be waged. Potter was dead. And also, her big, strong husband Tommy was lurking around here somewhere, always ready to protect her. She was safe here, or so she thought.
“Really?” I said, perplexed. “Because I was thinking you came here to make sure old man Potter’s really dead.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say.”
“He was a horrible man.”
“That’s for sure,” she muttered. Lifting her shoulders, she held her head high and tried to tower over me. It wasn’t easy, since I was four inches taller than her. No wonder she wore stilettos. “So once again they’ve found another dead body on one of your job sites. They should lock you up for the good of the town.”
I laughed. The woman simply never changed. Heck, I’d even saved her life twice and she still acted like Queen Bitch of the Universe. “That’s really funny, coming from you. But I wouldn’t be so quick to send someone else off to jail if I were you.”
She was instantly on guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I folded my arms across my chest and looked down at her. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”
“Okay.” But she frowned and her voice was tentative. She hated looking up at me and she had no idea what I was talking about. I enjoyed having the upper hand, at least for the moment.
I leaned in close and said softly, “I saw you here last night, Whitney. I heard you arguing with Potter.”
The color literally drained from her face and she looked like she might faint. “You eavesdropped.”
“It was hard not to. You were screaming at him.”
She sucked in a huge breath of air. “You can’t tell Tommy.”
“Oh, really?” I cocked my head to one side and looked down at her. Boy, I enjoyed being taller than her.
“He can’t ever know.”
“Huh.” She looked worried and I didn’t blame her. “Wonder what you’ll owe me if I keep my mouth shut.”
“Anything. Whatever you say.”
I didn’t hesitate. “You have to be nice to me.”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Her mouth screwed up, her eyes narrowed, and that lofty nose went up in the air as if she’d caught a bad scent.
I started to walk away. “Tommy’s around here somewhere. Good luck explaining why you’re here.”
“Wait!”
I turned and gazed at her, waiting for her to agree to be nice. But she couldn’t say it. It was enlightening and humorous and painful all at the same time. “You have a real problem, you know that?”
“No, I don’t. And I don’t hate you.” She sighed and shrugged. “I mean, not exactly.”
“Yeah? Well, you do a really good impression of it then.” I laughed. “You’re pathetic.”
Her lips pressed together in frustration and finally she stomped her foot and blurted, “You had what I wanted!”
I snorted softly. “Really? We’re still back in high school? Okay, fine, I had what you wanted. But you fixed that, didn’t you? You took Tommy, married him, and had three kids with him. Now you have everything. So get over it.”
“It wasn’t just Tommy. It’s just . . . you were so . . . friendly.” She waved her hand vaguely, searching for the right words. “So . . . nice. You always wanted to . . . help everyone. It was a little sickening.”
“I can see why that would be unpleasant for you. So you had to try and destroy me?”
“Oh, please. You’re stronger than I ever was.”
She said it so offhandedly, I almost missed it. She thought I was strong? Was that why she’d pounded me down for years?
She was still talking, so I had to pay attention. “Watching you being so darn nice to everyone made me feel awful. I felt better when I picked on you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s true.”
“Well, gee, no wonder Tommy fell for you.”
“I love Tommy,” she said defensively.
“I know, Whitney. He loves you, too. But he’s my friend—just my friend—so how about you stop acting like I’m the bad guy here?”
“I’ll . . . try.” She paused, then blinked dramatically. “I’m about to get kicked out of my house, you know. I’ll have to sell my clothes and my Jaguar.” She sniffled and her eyes began to water. “It’s not fair.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to cry.”
She sniffed again. “I wouldn’t shed one tear in front of you.”
“So, this is you trying to be nice?”
“It’s not that easy,” she snapped.
I rolled my eyes. “You know you’re insane, right?”
She took another big breath of air and pulled herself together. “Look, I’ll work out my money problems. Just don’t tell Tommy what you heard.”
“Tell Tommy what?”
She let out a little shriek and Tommy laughed, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her. “Hi, baby. What a nice surprise. What were you two talking about?”
He turned to me and grinned boyishly. “What is it you heard that you’re not going to tell me?”
Behind his back Whitney stared at me wild-eyed and vigorously shook her head as if to shout, No!
It was a test, and I knew it. If I betrayed Whitney, she would treat me like dirt for the rest of my life. And if I didn’t betray Whitney? Heck, she would still treat me like dirt for the rest of my life. So, what to do? What to do?
I sighed and batted my eyes at Tommy. “I heard one of my friends saying how cute you were, and Whitney didn’t want me to tell you because you already know how cute you are.”
His eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge my honesty. I continued smiling innocently until he finally chuckled and gave Whitney another kiss. “You girls are the cute ones.”
“Love you, babe,” she said, patting his cheek.
“Love you more.” He gave her one last squeeze and walked away. And Whitney almost collapsed with relief.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she said in a breathless whisper.
“You’re welcome,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t thank me out loud unless forced.
“Okay, yes, thank you. I’m going to take care of this,” she swore. “I need to talk to the board of directors at the bank and . . . and I’ll talk to Tommy.”
“Please do,” I said. “Because if Eric puts my dad in jail, all bets are off. I’ll hand him a long list of people who wanted Potter dead just as badly as my father. And trust me, your name will be on it.”
She shook her hair defiantly. “From what I hear, you’re on it, too.”
I scowled. “Let’s face it, everyone in town is on that list.”
“For good reason,” she grumbled. “Potter was a monster.”
* * *
I realized that while I’d been talking to Wade and arguing with Whitney, Eric had finished speaking to the volunteers. He had disappeared into the house, but I counted twelve volunteers who had stuck around. They stood in small groups on the backyard lawn or sat on the edge of the veranda, dangling their feet, chatting with each other and waiting for the police to finish searching the house.
I felt compelled to say a few words, so I thanked them for staying but also let them know they were free to leave. Everyone insisted they were perfectly happy to hang out and visit with each other until we were ready to get back to work. I appreciated their devotion, even though I would bet most of them just wanted to catch up on the murder gossip. I couldn’t blame them. You wouldn’t find much bigger news around here than murder.
I circled to the front of the house and was happy to find Dad still sitting in the same chair on the veranda. The good news was that he hadn’t been dragged off to police headquarters. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he was deep in conversation with Phil Chambers, who waved at me but kept talking in low tones to Dad.
I didn’t want to interrupt them, even though I was dying to know what Eric had said to my father. But I resisted, heading instead to my truck, where I climbed inside to work quietly on my tablet.
I recalculated the list of job priorities and moved around the tasks I had hoped to have finished this morning. I shifted a few crew members around, too, to make things work out time-wise.
I checked the list of volunteers from yesterday who had told me they would show up again this afternoon. Gazing at the list, I was struck once again by the number of people who’d carried a grudge against Peter Potter. Counting myself and my father, there were almost too many suspects to deal with. Not that all of us could seriously be considered murder suspects, but these were just the ones who’d clashed with Potter yesterday. Who knew how many other people had locked horns with him before that?
So far, Eric hadn’t made any moves to bring my father in for questioning. Our police chief was nothing if not fair, but I also knew that he played by the rules. The ax was the primary clue in the death of Potter and it belonged to my father. But Eric wouldn’t simply arrest him and stop looking for more evidence. That wasn’t his style. He knew my father, so he had to believe he was innocent, right? Okay, yes, everyone in the known universe had heard Dad and Potter yelling at each other yesterday. And of course, a bunch of people had seen Dad brandishing his shiny new ax over Potter’s head while threatening to kill him.
Still, Dad wasn’t the only one who had a bone to pick with Potter yesterday.
I continued to stare at the list of names on my tablet until they began to blur. Was there a murderer on the list? Were my crew and I working side by side with a killer? Had my father been set up deliberately to take the fall? Would the police see it that way? I seriously doubted it. It was becoming more and more obvious that if I wanted to keep my father out of jail, I was going to have to track down Potter’s killer myself.