by Gina LaManna
“Me too,” Allie said. “Matt once came over when I started a fire trying to make s’mores in my kitchen. He’s pretty much the reason I’m alive today.”
“You never told me that,” I said, turning to Allie.
“I just remembered it,” Allie said. “I try to repress traumatic memories.”
June nodded knowingly. “He is such a good grandson.”
“And neighbor,” I added.
“And firefighter,” Allie contributed. “And he’s also nice to look at. It would be a shame to waste his good looks in prison.”
June looked a bit alarmed.
“He’s not going to prison,” I said quickly. “He’s innocent. There won’t be a shred of evidence that the police can use to arrest him; I’m sure of it. We just have to find out why Shania ended up on his doorstep.”
“Probably someone trying to frame him,” Allie said. “Which means the killer is tricky, and it’s why we’re on the job.”
Allie thumbed toward herself. As if remembering I was there at the last second, she added a little finger wave in my direction too. June watched both actions, looking hopeful and attentive for the first time since we’d stepped foot into her cafe.
“You mean it?” she asked softly. “Both of you?”
I nodded. “We mean it. But we’ll need some help getting to the bottom of it. If there’s anyone you can think of that we should talk to, anyone who knew Shania, we could use that information.”
June just nodded again. “I’ll need to talk to a few people. Shania is from Butternut Bay and didn’t come around the cafe much. After she and Matt broke up, at least.”
I shifted in my seat. “Ah. I’d heard they had dated.”
“It was a long time ago,” June said. “Well, a year ago. There was nothing going on anymore. Hence the reason I’ll have to ask around a bit.”
“Take your time,” I said, as Betsy arrived at the table with our order. I reached for my pancakes. “We’ll look into it too.”
“You might want to talk to that cousin of yours,” June said, slicing a piece of pound cake and moving it to her plate. She dunked the edge in coffee before taking a bite. “Her and Joe spent a good amount of time with Matt and Shania from what I remember. Anyway, I’m not sure May stays in touch with Shania, but she might know who does.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “And anyway, I’ve been meaning to take her shopping. I’ve been dying to pick out some baby clothes, so this will work out perfectly.”
“I can take your appointments for the afternoon,” Allie volunteered hopefully.
“That’s okay,” I said, knowing my mother would kill me if I left the styling duties in Allie’s well-intentioned but over-excitable hands. “I’m sure my mother can use all the help she can get what with the Bachelorette Ball tomorrow.”
“Will you be entering?” June asked sweetly. “Matt’s been asking about you.”
“Unfortunately, no. But I’ll bring my checkbook. Maybe I’ll win a hot date with Linda. I’d hate for her to have bought all those clothes and not have any place to wear them.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” June said, one eyebrow crooked. “You joke, but Linda is a hot commodity with the retirement community. Those retired firemen will have a field day bidding on someone their age.”
I raised my hands in submission. “Then I’ll be there to cheer everyone else on.”
“Maybe you’ll change your mind,” June said cryptically. “You should wear a nice dress, just in case.”
“I won’t change my mind,” I confirmed. “I’m very certain I won’t change my mind.”
“But she will wear a nice dress.” Allie leaned forward, took a slice of June’s pound cake and added it to her plate. “It’s Jenna McGovern. She always wears a nice dress.”
“Speaking of clothes, we should get going,” I said. “This break has already been longer than I’d intended to make it. But I’m glad we got to talk to you, June. You have nothing to worry about. Matt is innocent—which means there is no evidence to find against him, period. Once we get the cops looking in the right direction, he’ll be free as a bird once again.”
The three of us stood. I moved to grab cash from my wallet, but June rested a hand on my wrist. “Don’t you dare.”
“Come on, June,” I said. “You stuffed us full of sweets and coffee.”
“You’ve done more for me than I could ever have asked,” June said knowingly. “This one’s on me. In fact, if you get my Matt off the hook, I guarantee you won’t have to pay a dime to restore your Gran’s old greenhouse.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked skeptically. “How do you plan on making that happen?”
“I have my ways around this town.” June tapped her temple. “I’ve been storing up favors for over eight decades. It won’t take much to call a few of them in.”
“That’s ridiculous. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just helping out a friend.”
“So am I,” June said with a smile. “And I know you’ve had your eye on restoring that greenhouse, haven’t you?”
“Well, yes, I’d love to. It was always such a big part of Gran.”
“It was always such a big part of Blueberry Lake,” June corrected. “It will be nice to have it up and running again. It’ll be no trouble at all.”
“No promises,” I said. “But I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will, hon.” June patted my hand. “Now get out of here. And remember, wear a nice dress to the gala tomorrow and fix your hair.”
Chapter 5
Several hours later, I’d pushed June’s cryptic advice to the back of my mind as I stood on my front steps, waiting for May to pick me up. I felt a bit like a kindergartener excited for a play date.
I really needed to find myself a reliable, cheap car so I didn’t have to beg for rides. Or walk everywhere. Not that Blueberry Lake was a large place, but it was impossible to get to Target on foot, seeing as the nearest one was over thirty miles away.
When May pulled into the driveway, I waved at her and double checked the front lock. Then I jogged down the front steps to her car, deliberately ignoring the empty house next door.
May, however, gawked.
“That’s where it happened?” she asked. “So close?”
I winced, nodded. “Poor Matt.”
“Poor Matt is right,” she said. “You know he didn’t do it, right?”
“Yes, of course. Don’t be ridiculous.”
As May gave a happy nod and threw her car into reverse, I let myself glimpse at the house next door. It was dark inside, the lights all shut off. I’d never seen the entire house dark, I realized. Matt always left at least the front light on, and I’d grown to find it a comforting presence—knowing he was always nearby, just a few steps away.
I shivered, thinking it was the perfect evening to get away from it all. May and I had planned a girl’s night out that consisted of a trip to Target, a large Starbucks beverage, and a crinkly super-size bag of Doritos for the road trip. That was the equivalent of a wild Friday night party in Blueberry Lake.
It was a bit stunning to realize I’d traded in movie premiers and fancy canapes and sparkling champagne for department store runs and gas station chips, but somehow, I wasn’t upset by any of it. Plus, May was pregnant, and I had no money. It’s not like we could actually do a whole lot.
“Ready for our night out on the town?” May asked. “It’s been awhile since we’ve gotten the time to hang out. The restaurant has been keeping me busy. That, and the home renovations. Joe and I decided to do the nursery ourselves. Stupid idea.”
I grinned. “Yeah, I’ll be doing the same thing with Gran’s place. Though oddly enough, June seemed keen on helping me to get Gran’s greenhouse restored.”
“Take the help,” May said emphatically. “It’s an awful idea to try to do it alone, and a worse idea to do it with your spouse. I bet she’ll make Matt get some of his buddies over there to help. He’s pretty handy.”
�
��He cooks, he bakes, he fixes,” I said. “What doesn’t he do?”
“Murder,” May said. Then she glanced at me. “Sorry, I shouldn’t bring it up. You’re probably sick of talking about it.”
“Actually, I was hoping to ask you about that.” I pulled out the chips and ripped them open, popping one in my mouth. “June mentioned that you might’ve known Shania.”
“A bit.”
“Come on, don’t be all cryptic with me.”
When May still seemed hesitant to answer, I blew a huge breath out and shook my head.
“Everyone’s tiptoeing around me and this case. It doesn’t bother me to hear about Matt and his ex-girlfriend. I didn’t assume he’d been celibate his entire life. I have a past too. Not to mention, we’re not dating!”
May looked mildly surprised. “I should have guessed you’d heard about it.”
“A little,” I said. “Tell me about their relationship.”
“This is awkward. I still think the two of you would be great together.”
“Let me put it this way,” I said. “I don’t do orange jump suits and conjugal visits. If Matt’s in prison, he won’t be dating anyone. I’m trying to help get him off the hook for the murder charge. It seems there are only a handful of people who believe he’s innocent. I’m one of them, so you’ve got to count on me.”
May nodded, easing the car onto the freeway. We had a good half hour before we’d arrive at Target, which was part of the reason I’d chosen it.
“You cornered me to talk about Matt and Shania,” May said. She was a smart cookie. “That’s why you wanted to go to Target.”
“That, and you need a crib and diapers.”
“That’s what Amazon is for.”
“I’ll buy your baby girl some cute outfits.”
“You can’t afford that.”
I winked. “That’s what credit cards are for.”
May gave a coarse laugh. “Fine, but you’re not racking up debt trying to style my baby. I won’t let you, but you can buy me a decaf latte. Where do you want me to start?”
“How about the beginning? I heard Matt met Shania when she called for help to get her cat out of a tree.”
“Oh, that’s right! Yeah, it was a real meet-cute,” May said with a fond smile. Then she seemed to remember who she was talking to and wiped the smile from her lips. “Anyway, they started dating after that. It must have been about two years ago because they broke up about a year ago and had lasted about that long.”
“Were they serious?”
May’s eyes flicked toward me.
“Give me the truth,” I said. “Please.”
“Yes,” she said. “Everyone thought they’d get married. Their parents were already thinking about wedding venues.”
I frowned. “Was their breakup a surprise?”
“The biggest news in Blueberry Lake for over a month. It was a bigger deal than Grant Mark’s death. That dropped out of the news cycle as soon as you were cleared.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
May laughed. “It was a shock.”
“Matt broke up with Shania?”
May nodded. “I guess it came somewhat out of the blue. At least, to Shania. She mentioned something about looking at rings. One day, Matt seemed open, interested in the idea. But the day they were set to go shopping, Matt showed up and just broke things off with her.”
“That doesn’t seem like him,” I said. “Did Shania say if there were any signs?”
“She hadn’t seemed to think so. I talked to her a few times after their breakup. She was really torn up about it and wanted to know if we’d seen anything coming.”
“Had you?”
She shook her head. “Even Joe thought they’d get married, and he and Matt are as close as two dude friends can get.”
“Odd. Did you or Joe ever ask Matt what changed? Why he broke up with her that day?”
“I kind of poked and prodded, but he was very closed off and private about it. I mentioned it a few times to Joe, but you know guys. They didn’t talk about it.”
“Strange. Did Matt ever seem to, I don’t know, regret his choice? If it was that hasty, I would think he’d have some doubts.”
“One would think,” May said with a one-shouldered shrug. “But it seemed like he’d made up his mind. I don’t want to say he snapped because it wasn’t like that. But it seemed like a clean break for him. As far as I know, he never mentioned her again. I don’t think he reached out to her.”
“Did Shania try and get in touch with him?”
“Poor thing. Yes, a few times. You know how it is,” May said, glancing over at me. “Did you do that with your ex?”
I thought of several wine-fueled evenings filled with calls and weepy messages, followed by a week or two of angry texts after I’d been dumped. “Absolutely not.”
May snorted. “Right. Well, I do remember talking with Joe, saying something about how poor Shania was just confused, and Joe made an odd comment about how she needed to leave him alone and move on. When I asked him more about it, he shut up, like he shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I wonder if something happened?” I mused. “Something that Shania and Matt were keeping private?”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe Matt had just complained to Joe that Shania was still texting him even after he’d made it clear they’d broken up?”
“Could be,” May said. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can be all that helpful. A month or so after their breakup, Shania stopped coming over to Blueberry Lake. I used to run into her at June’s or the restaurant, but things got a little awkward, so she started staying away. We fell out of touch.”
“Do you know what she’d been up to recently? Where she was working, who her friends were?”
“I don’t know about her friends,” May said. “But I know she worked over at Butternut Babes. It’s a salon just across town. In fact, I’m headed there tomorrow to get my hair done with Allie. You should come with.”
“You?”
“Yes, me,” May said with a harrumph. “Just because I’m old and married and pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t look nice for the Bachelorette Ball.”
“You’re participating?”
“Of course. And Joe better have been saving up. If he bids a paltry five bucks again and gets outbid by old man Fred, he will be sleeping on the couch for months.”
“What time?” I asked. “I’m not sure I need my hair done, but I’d love to join the two of you.”
“Oh, you’re getting your hair done,” May said, giving me a bright smile. “I already made you an appointment.”
“What?!”
“You made me drive you to Target,” she said. “You owe me.”
“Fine,” I said. “My ends are awful anyway. I suppose I could use a trim.”
“Sure,” May said. “A trim.”
“What do you have up your sleeve?”
“Oh, look, we’re just about there,” May said. “Pull out your wallet because we’re going shopping. You can start on your murder solving tomorrow morning, once your hair is done and we’re all shopped out. Friday night only comes around once a week, and I’m not ruining mine talking about dead bodies.”
“Fair point,” I said. “Speaking of, which way is Starbucks?”
Chapter 6
Saturday morning came faster than I cared to admit. I cracked my eyes open as sunlight streamed through the windows, and I tried to remember what exactly had happened the previous night.
It came back to me in a slow drip. The Target run, my discussion with May, the two (and a half) lattes I’d devoured simply because it was the first time I’d seen a Starbucks since I’d touched down in Blueberry Lake many moons ago. (Or at least a few weeks, but it felt like much longer.)
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was hungover. Probably more likely, it was a caffeine hangover. Even the hangovers in Blueberry Lake were innocent. The worst sort of trouble May and I had
gotten into last night was over-exercising my newest credit card on a few outfits that would fit a seven-pound doll.
I groaned, sat up in bed. For the first time all year, I’d left the window cracked when I’d fallen asleep, and this morning the birds were Chatty Cathys. They chirped and whistled on the branches just outside, making it impossible to return to sleep.
Heaving myself out of bed, I popped a fluffy robe over my shoulders and padded downstairs. The old steps in Gran’s Victorian gave welcoming creaks, greeting me with each step.
When I reached my kitchen, I froze. Then I went to the front door and shuffled onto my stoop, glancing at the house next door. Matt’s house. Though the morning was bright and optimistic, his house was sad and empty. Not a single light on. No movement. I imagined if I strolled over there and poked my head inside, it would be deadly quiet—no pun intended.
Not that I’d be able to poke my head inside since the door would likely be locked. The police had vacated the crime scene yesterday, but the air of impending doom hung heavy on the house. I imagined Matt was allowed back home if he wanted, but I didn’t blame him for camping out at his family’s place for a few days.
However, that left me with one gigantic problem.
No coffee.
Realistically, I had ingested enough caffeine the previous night to last me for a week, but that didn’t help my pounding headache this morning. I retreated inside, leaving the front door wide open and the screen door closed so a nice, balmy breeze danced through the house. The fresh air was welcome, helping to clear the painful cobwebs from my brain.
I rummaged through all the cupboards, but the closest I got to making coffee was debating whether I could substitute toilet paper for coffee filters. When I decided I had too much pride for that, I dug out some expired granules of instant decaf. Not exactly a thrilling find. I was bent over, struggling to haul out a dusty old coffee pot when a voice through my screen door startled me into banging my head on the cupboard.
Rubbing the soon-to-be welt on my head, I shuffled toward the door, recognizing the man behind it and breaking into a smile as I pressed open the screen.