by K. J. Emrick
“Time?” Janice responded a little waspishly. “I’ve got nothing but time now, Braydon. My husband is dead. You did hear the nice police officers say that he’s dead, right?”
“We left the cops back at the diner.” They heard Braydon laugh, and in the gloom from the outdoor floodlights of the motel, Miranda saw Jack’s jaw clench. “Did you see that one detective’s face when we blew him off? Priceless. They’ve got nothing, Janice. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Oh really. And why do you think I would be worried?”
Miranda could almost hear her raising an eyebrow at him. Then Braydon’s answer sent a chill through her blood.
“Because, my dear, with the police so clueless, you don’t have to worry about them arresting you for his murder.”
Kyle’s gasp was loud in Miranda’s ears. “Whoa… so she killed Leon?”
“Shh,” Miranda whispered back. “Listen.”
Could it be true? A wife murdering her husband wasn’t exactly a new idea, and from what she understood poison was the preferred choice for women who committed murder. Could it be true?
In Moonlight Bay, yes it could.
“For all the police know,” Janice was saying to Braydon, “you killed Leon.”
Miranda frowned. Now they were both accusing each other. That was not helpful in the least.
“Whatever, Janice,” Braydon said. “Why don’t you lay down and let me massage the tension away. We’ll just take your top off… and that bra of course.”
“Knock it off, Braydon. I don’t see why you think I’d be in the mood for that sort of thing.”
“I thought you were always in the mood. You always have been before.”
“Braydon, I said stop!”
Jack stood up straight and tall now, taking his gun out of its holster. “Those two are having an affair, and now it sounds like he’s trying to rape her. That’s our cue.”
“Yeah!” Kyle cheered. “Go get ‘em, Jack!”
From the pocket of his jeans, he took out the plastic pass card for the motel room that they’d found on Leon’s body. Miranda was almost disappointed. She’d been looking forward to seeing him kick the door in.
With a little beep the lock disengaged, and Jack was through and into the room. “Moonlight Bay Police,” he said in a loud, firm voice. “Back up, Mister Wise. Back up into that corner over there. Mrs. Peniston, you stand over there. That’s good. Thank you both.”
“What are you doing here?” Braydon demanded. “You have no right to burst in here like this!”
“I’m stopping a crime, that’s what I’m doing. You’re under arrest for the attempted rape of Mrs. Janice Peniston here.”
“That’s absurd!”
Kyle flew up close to his face and shook a finger right under his nose. “No it is not! We heard everything! Plus, I saw your hands all over her.”
“Braydon and I are lovers and have been for some time,” Janice said, with a look of great satisfaction. Miranda couldn’t keep the look of surprise off her face. When Janice saw it, she smirked and tossed her blonde hair over one perfect shoulder. “Oh, don’t act so high and mighty. I’ll bet you and your boyfriend do a lot more than sleep in that nice double bed of yours with the frilly down comforter. And no, Detective,” she turned to look at Jack, “he wasn’t trying to rape me. You misunderstood what you heard.”
“Really?” Jack asked her. “Because it sounded pretty much like Braydon here was trying to force himself on you. After all, you are a married woman.”
“Well,” she said with a flirty tone, “you should see what I let him do to me between the sheets.”
She added a wink at Jack, and it set Miranda’s teeth on edge to see it. What really bothered her, however, was the blasé way this woman seemed to be taking the death of her own husband. This tawdry little scene between Leon’s wife and Braydon, so soon after Leon’s death, bordered on disgusting. Obviously, this thing between them had been going on for a long time. Knowing that now, Miranda felt sorry for Leon Peniston in more ways than one.
“All right,” Jack finally said. He put his gun away in its holster and smiled at them both. “If you’re not going to press charges, Mrs. Peniston, then I won’t be arresting Braydon for attempted rape. It’s not a crime to be with another man’s wife. At least, not one that I can arrest you for.”
“Thank you, Detective.” Janice almost sounded relieved when she said it.
“But,” Jack said to her, “he’s not off the hook. I will be arresting him for tampering with evidence.”
“What?” Braydon exclaimed again, the veins in his neck standing out like cords. “Detective, I no longer find this amusing. Look, this is Janice’s room. She and I were engaged in some adult behavior, but it was consensual like she just told you. I’ve done nothing wrong, so I’m going to leave.”
“No you are not!” Kyle told him, shaking his finger again.
For just a moment, Braydon waved at the air in front of him, sensing something there that he couldn’t see.
Jack took advantage of the hesitation to ask, “Tell me about the coffee cup.”
The color drained from Braydon’s face a little. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We found the cup,” Miranda told him, tired of his denials. “You might as well just admit what was in it right now. Jack is sending it to the lab. You know it’s going to have your fingerprints on it and that piece of cloth or whatever it was at the bottom is going to test positive for poison.”
With an effort that Miranda could see, Braydon finally schooled his expression to make himself look unconcerned about this revelation. “And where did you find this coffee cup, hmm?”
“In the dumpster where you left it, that’s where.”
Now his earlier cocky smile returned. “So a cup that was in a diner’s trash has some… what was it you called it… cloth or whatever, inside, and that’s supposed to link back to me? Goodness, I’m no police officer but that sounds circumstantial at best. I’m pretty sure a defense attorney would say that ‘whatever’ is in the cup was in the dumpster to begin with. As evidence goes, that amounts to absolutely nothing. I don’t think you have any reason to be here at all, Detective. Certainly no reason to arrest me.”
“Think so?” Jack countered.
“I know so, Detective.”
“Then tell me this. How is it you knew my name, back at the diner? You squirmed your way out of explaining how you knew Miranda here, but how is it you know me? I’ve never met you before in my life.”
“While that is true,” he said, his smile never slipping one bit, “I make it a habit to know the police officers in whatever town I find myself. Moonlight Bay has been my home for a very long time. Oh, I’ve moved once or twice, but I always come back. There’s just something about this place I can’t escape.”
His head swiveled on his shoulders to face Miranda, his eyes meeting hers. “Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Wylder?”
Kyle glared at the man. “You want a place you can’t escape? How about jail, huh? How about that? You might as well confess right now!”
Miranda wanted to shush him or wave him to silence, but she couldn’t very well reveal that she had a ghost companion in the room. Not with both Janice and Braydon looking right at her. That was the drawback to living in a world where people didn’t believe in ghosts. You couldn’t exactly have a conversation with what amounted to your imaginary friend.
It was Jack who saved her, bringing the attention back to him. “Where’s Hannah?”
Miranda had the pleasure of seeing Braydon’s expression slip again, just for a split second. “Hannah was with us in the diner, as you know, Detective. Alas, she was very tired. I brought her home before bringing Janice here. She’ll be leaving in the morning, after making arrangements to have her poor husband sent home to Queensland. I decided to stay and ease her last few hours here.”
“I’m sure,” Jack said, before turning to Janice. “That’s where you
’re from? Queensland?”
“Of course,” she said defensively. “Look, we gave your other cops our information before we left. They even took mobile photos of our driver’s licenses. You have all of our information. Now, please. I’ve had a terrible shock and I just want to go to bed. Alone,” she added, and although she looked sideways at Braydon when she spoke, it was obvious to all that the comment was directed at Miranda.
The relationship between these two got more distasteful the more Miranda thought about it. Braydon was at least old enough to be Janice’s father. Janice was very attractive, and obviously she was a lot brighter than she let on. This sudden grieving for her poor dead husband was an obvious ploy on her part, and nothing more. So what was the attraction between her and Braydon?
Some women were attracted to good looks, and Braydon was handsome enough in that odd sort of favorite uncle way. Some women were attracted to money, and Braydon struck Miranda as someone who had plenty of that. Some women were attracted to power, too, and from what she had seen of Braydon at the diner he obviously had some sort of influence over the two women with him, and Josh Bates as well.
Janice could have fallen into an affair with Braydon Wise for any of these things, or any combination of them. Then again, a woman’s heart could be a fickle thing, and maybe Janice just wanted Braydon because she did.
Braydon’s gaze turned to Miranda again, and he smiled.
“He’s creepy,” Kyle decided, “and that’s coming from your ghostly spirit guide.”
“Janice said she was going to bed,” Braydon said to them. “That was your cue to leave.”
“Yours, too,” Janice emphasized. Braydon scowled at her, but didn’t argue.
“Well, I guess that’s it then.” Jack smiled and turned to the front door. Then he stopped and turned back. “Actually, I guess I have one more question for you, Braydon. Tell me. Are you the same Braydon Wise who was the witness to a bank robbery here in Moonlight Bay several years ago?”
Miranda watched for Braydon’s reaction. There wasn’t any, which said a lot as far as she was concerned. She just wasn’t sure exactly what.
“No sense in denying it,” he said to Jack. “It’s public record, and you’d find out soon enough anyway. That was me. Terrible thing, too. But I guess bad things sometimes happen to good people.”
Miranda wanted Jack to press him. She wanted them to stay here and question both Braydon and Janice until everything had an answer. She knew that they couldn’t tip their hand too much, however. Not unless they wanted both Braydon and Janice to shut down completely. There was going to have to be some other way to get the information that she needed.
As much as she hated to say it, their only good source of information might be Josh Bates.
Jack nodded at Braydon’s answer, as if it put puzzle pieces together in his head. “Well, thank you for your time. Mrs Peniston, if you need anything in regard to your husband please don’t hesitate to call us.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” she said, in a tone of voice that clearly said she had no intention of doing that at all.
When they got back to the car and got in, Kyle wouldn’t stop talking. “That’s it? That’s all we’re going to do? Shouldn’t we drag them both down to the station and waterboard them? We could maybe pull their hair out one strand at a time until they start singing!”
“Kyle, stop it,” Miranda told him. “I personally think that deerstalker cap is too tight on your head.”
“What’s he saying?” Jack asked.
“He wants us to torture confessions out of Braydon and Janice.”
“Well, I’d do it,” Kyle said, leaning back into his seat far enough that he disappeared halfway into it. “I have to leave the physical stuff to you guys, though. The best I could do would be to jab them with a pencil. Ooh! I could jab them with pencils until they confess!”
“No,” Miranda snapped at him. “No jabbing anyone with pencils. Got it?”
Jack looked around at her as he started the car and pulled away from the motel. “Tell him that I’ll be doing the interviews. There won’t be any pencils involved.”
“I could use pens,” Kyle offered.
Miranda ignored him. “So, Jack. What do we think about those two?”
“Three,” Jack said. “Janice, Braydon, and Josh Bates. Seems to me we’ve got three people all pointing their finger at each other. We heard Braydon say he thinks Janice killed Leon Peniston. Then we heard Janice say Braydon might have done it. Before that, Josh Bates told you that Braydon Wise was ‘involved’ in some way.”
“Sure,” Miranda agreed, “but we don’t know if that was about Leon Peniston’s murder, or my aunt’s disappearance.”
“Hmm, true.” Jack tapped a thumb against the edge of the steering wheel. “Then there’s Leon Peniston dropping dead at Ragged Rest after telling you he wanted to confess. Too bad he didn’t have enough time to say what that was about.”
“Yes, but he couldn’t be confessing to his own murder.”
“Right. So it’s likely that it had to be something to do with your Aunt Connie.”
“Do you think he was involved?”
“Possibly. I’m not sure he would have been old enough to have been involved.”
“Why not? He was middle aged, and now that I think about it he seems a little old for Janice. I guess she likes that kind of guy.”
“What kind is that?” Jack asked.
“Older, I mean. You noticed how much older Braydon Wise is than her, right?”
“Yes. Huh.”
Miranda knew that tone. “What are you thinking, Jack?”
“Well, if Leon Peniston was poisoned, then he was murdered. If he was murdered, then there had to be a motive. A younger woman who likes to be with older men, well sometimes—not always, mind you, just sometimes—they do it to get the older guy’s money.”
Miranda hadn’t even thought about that. “So you think maybe Janice killed her own husband for his money? Life insurance or something like that?”
“That’s what I’m wondering. Kills him, sucks up to Braydon, maybe does the same thing to him in the future. We’ll have to check on any life insurance policies for our out of town couple. If that bears out, then I think Janice makes an excellent suspect.”
“So do I!” Kyle seconded from the backseat.
“Kyle agrees… hey, wait a minute,” Miranda said as she looked out through the windshield. “Why are we going this way? I thought we were going to the police station.”
“We were, and now we’re not.” He put his signal on to make a turn. “I need to get the evidence to them, but that can wait until tomorrow because it’s not like we can get it out in the mail in the middle of the night. So, I’m taking you to my house. We both need sleep.”
She wanted to argue with him, but he was right. She was so tired right now she could barely keep her eyes open. She could sleep for a week without even trying. It would be good to just lie down for a while and rest.
Chapter 7
The morning definitely came quicker than she wanted. Jack’s bed was nice and warm and comfy. So comfy that Miranda tried for just a few more minutes of sleep. After counting up to a hundred and six sheep, she gave up.
She liked sleeping here. It wasn’t as comfortable as hers back at Ragged Rest but it was so nice, and the pillows smelled like Jack. It was such a girly thing to love the smell of your boyfriend on his pillow but she did and she wasn’t the least bit ashamed about it.
“Your hair is a mess,” Kyle said, hovering above her, just below the ceiling.
“Gah, Kyle!” Miranda shouted at him. She threw the blankets up over her head, hiding her naked body. She didn’t care if he was into men, and not women, he knew better than to come sneaking into bedrooms. “I’m not decent!”
“Hmm. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Kyle!”
“What? I just happen to float through the bathroom when you’re showering. Sometimes. It’s not that
I like to look at you. I just get bored, and when I get bored I wander. Sometimes when I’m wandering I see things.”
“Well don’t you dare ‘see’ anything ever again, got it?”
“Yes, fine. So-orry,” he chanted.
When Jack and she had gone to bed last night, they had taken just a few moments to themselves. Well, more than a few. They’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms afterward, naked and comfortable and exhausted.
“Ahem,” she said to Kyle. “Get. Out.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. See you soon, I guess.”
He floated up through the ceiling and disappeared. Miranda figured it was as alone as she was going to get. Quickly getting out of bed again she took out clothes from the drawer of her things that Jack had set aside for her to use when she was over. When she was done with her shower and fully dressed she sat down on the edge of the bed again. Nice bed. Warm bed. Why couldn’t she just lay down and take a few more minutes for herself even if this bed wasn’t quite the same as her own…
Her bed. In her house. Something Janice had said came back to her, floating through her mind on a loop.
I’ll bet you and your boyfriend here do more than sleep in your nice double bed and your frilly down comforter.
Miranda had never met Janice Peniston before in her life. Janice had never been to Ragged Rest. There was no way for that woman to know what her bed looked like.
Unless Janice Peniston was the one who broke into her house, and went through all of her rooms, and stole the papers from the file on her aunt’s disappearance.
“Jack!” she called out. She had no idea where he was. When she woke up, he was just gone. “Jack, where are you!”
“He left about a half hour ago,” Kyle said, floating back in through the ceiling. He had his hand up over his eyes, carefully parting his fingers to check if she had clothes on. “Oh good. You’re dressed. Anyway, Jack said he was heading for the police station.”
Kyle had changed his outfit into jeans and a modest long-sleeved shirt and sandals. It looked more his style. Miranda was glad that he was always around, they were just going to have to work on this issue he had with personal space.