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Still Life and Death

Page 17

by Tracy Gardner


  Jordan was scrawling on his legal pad in cursive Savanna couldn’t decipher. He caught up and looked at her. “You found out he lives there, and you learned about him dating Rachel and her father not liking it...how?”

  “I can help with that, at least,” Sydney spoke up, her tone calmer now. “I didn’t know who Libby’s daughter was dating, but I knew Libby wasn’t happy with him.”

  “Oh, wow!” Savanna said. This was news to her. “What did she tell you?”

  “She only said she didn’t trust Rachel’s new boyfriend. She never gave me details. I know it had hurt their relationship.” She looked at Savanna. “I was thinking, it’s probably why Libby made such a big deal over Rachel coming for dinner the night before she—before it happened. They’d been struggling.”

  “Oh.” Poor Libby. Poor Rachel, too.

  “Is that the same info you have, Savanna?” Jordan asked, his tone polite.

  “There’s a little more. I was visiting my uncle at the flower shop and I bumped into Marcus’s neighbor from the apartment next to his.” It was a mostly true summary, minus some snooping details. “She asked if I was looking for Marcus and said he wasn’t home. And the lobby at the dance school is a rich source of, uh, information. It’s common knowledge there that Rachel and Marcus are a couple.” She finished with her encounter with Rachel at the hospital, Anthony’s derogatory remark about his daughter’s boyfriend, and Rachel’s request that Savanna not tell her dad about seeing her with Marcus the other night.

  “He actually called him a hoodlum?” Detective Jordan had the hint of a smirk. “It’s hard to say if he’s just an overprotective father or if he has a reason not to like Valentine. The black eye doesn’t speak well for the guy.”

  “That was my thought too,” she said, “though of course it could’ve been an accident. Like when you slipped in your shower last year and got that huge bruise on your forehead,” she added to Sydney. “If you meet him, he’s not really the way all this makes him sound.”

  “I’ll meet him.” The detective jotted something in the margin. “I don’t see enough of a reason for him to want to kill his girlfriend’s mom, though. Rachel running out of tuition money is weak, even if she or Valentine had knowledge about the life insurance policy.”

  Savanna nodded. The clock behind Jordan read eight thirty-five. School started soon, and Syd had to open the shop. “I do have a question for you, but we’ve got to get going.”

  “I’ll walk with you. Shoot.” He held his office door open for them, and they walked down the long hallway toward the exit.

  “Do you know about any weird stuff going on between Priscilla’s dance school and Libby’s flower shop?”

  “Weird how?”

  “They’ve made complaints against each other for years about all kinds of stuff.” She hoped the detective wouldn’t ask how she knew what she knew. She couldn’t betray Yvonne. “I wondered if you know about any of that? I mean, everyone knows Miss Priscilla can be a bit...terse. And the Kents have been sticklers about the parking situation over there.” She glanced at Sydney, trying to be sensitive.

  “We humor the Kents when they call about dance school patrons parking in the flower shop spots. My officers will go cruise through the parking lot, but once in a while they have to set an example and issue a citation. The Blakes hit back now and then with a call about lax snow removal outside Libby’s, or delivery vans blocking their driveway.” He sighed. “They’ve been this way ever since I’ve been with the sheriff’s department. Maybe longer than that.”

  “I wonder if it’s really about something else,” Sydney mused. “One of those situations where two parties are fighting, but it isn’t really about whatever stupid issue they think they’re fighting over. Like when your wife gets mad at you for throwing your socks on the floor.”

  He turned to her and grinned. Now that was a real Detective Nick Jordan smile. “I don’t throw my socks on the floor.”

  “Right,” Sydney said, and Savanna nodded along. “But it’s not about the socks. Or the parking spots, or the snow. It’s about a general lack of respect those actions communicate, right?”

  He nodded slowly as they went outside into the morning sun. “Sure. So, the Kents and Blakes have a longstanding issue that stems from a basic feeling of disrespect. The petty complaints are symptoms of the real problem.”

  “Yes,” Syd and Savanna both said at the same time.

  Savanna laughed. “Jinx.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Jordan said. “But...”

  “Yeah,” Savanna said. “But none of that gives anyone motive to want to murder someone. Not the way Libby died. Right?”

  “Right,” he agreed. “I think Anthony Kent will run the flower shop and Priscilla and Dylan Blake will run the dance school until they’re all well past retirement age, and they’ll still be calling in complaints on each other.”

  “Maybe not, though,” Savanna said. “Anthony said yesterday that he’s thinking about selling.”

  “Really?”

  “Really?” Sydney repeated. “Why? Libby loved that shop. How could he do that?”

  Savanna bit her lip. She should’ve told Sydney first. But it was just a possibility. “Honestly, I think he’s in over his head. Libby was the florist, not him.”

  “Interesting,” Jordan said. “That’d certainly make life easier for the Blakes. No more feud.”

  “You’re thinking they did this to Libby to get rid of the shop?” Sydney’s voice was incredulous.

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m just listening. Considering all possibilities. No detail is completely insignificant.” He cocked an eyebrow at Sydney, a smirk threatening around the corners of his mouth.

  She sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you, Nick.”

  “Thank you. Not many folks would call me out like that.”

  Sydney twisted the end of her braid absently. “Yeah. It was out of line,” she said, her tone saying she didn’t care.

  “It wasn’t. You’re fine.” He looked at Savanna. “Thank you both. I appreciate your help. I’m looking forward to meeting Valentine.”

  Across the street, Savanna and Sydney stopped outside Fancy Tails. “Are we still having lunch today?” Savanna asked.

  Her sister shrugged. “I don’t care. Sure.”

  “Okay...well, Skylar or I will grab a pizza, I guess. If that sounds all right?”

  “Whatever.” Sydney scowled at something over Savanna’s shoulder. She turned to find Miss Priscilla glaring at them through the dance school window.

  “What the...” As they stared back at her, the woman whipped around and disappeared down the hallway toward the reception area. “What on earth was that about?”

  Sydney frowned at Savanna. “She creeps me out. Didn’t you notice the dance school lights come on as we walked by on the way to the precinct this morning? Like, why? They don’t open for hours. Every time I look over there, Miss Priscilla is peeking out her window at us.”

  “Wow.” The woman had been staring at them the other day too, when they’d spotted Marcus getting out his car. “Though, that’s not really peeking. She was standing there in full view glaring at us. What the heck?”

  Sydney shook her head. “I don’t know.” She turned to go into Fancy Tails. “Gotta open the shop.”

  “Syd, could we sit down and really talk later? Maybe—”

  Her sister cut her off. “I don’t want to talk. I’m fine. See you at lunch.” She yanked the door open and went inside.

  Savanna’s heart ached for Sydney. She and Skylar would make her listen at lunch today. Her sister had to let them help her.

  Three hours later, Savanna crossed the street from a quick stop at Kate’s Yoga and entered Fancy Tails. She was thrilled to find Skylar already here with Hannah. A Giuseppe’s pizza box sat on the table. Savanna immediately stole
the baby from her sister.

  “You’re getting so big! Aren’t you? Look at this giant foot!” Savanna pretended to nibble her pink-socked foot. Hannah shrieked and giggled with her toothless smile and kicked her feet wildly. Her fuzzy socks matched her pink romper with a trio of satin ladybugs in purple hats on the front. She turned the baby to face outward against her chest, keeping her upright, as she loved laughing at Fonzie running around the shop. She bent toward Hannah’s wispy blond hair and breathed in deeply. “Why do babies smell so good?”

  Skylar laughed. “Sometimes they don’t.”

  Savanna lifted the cover and peeked. “Ooh! I love their veggie pizza. How’s Joe doing?”

  Joe Fratelli, the owner and chef at the best Italian eatery in the county, was close to Harlan Shepherd’s age and a good family friend. When he had been wrongly arrested for murder last summer, Savanna and her sisters had scrambled to prove he didn’t do it. In typical fashion, Chef Joe harbored no grudges against Carson law enforcement for the gross error. He’d said he was just happy to be back in his kitchen at the restaurant. And ever since the sisters had helped clear his name, he wouldn’t let them pay for pizza anymore.

  “Joe’s great,” Skylar said. “He’s happy. I have a feeling there might be a wedding in Carson sometime soon.” She grinned at Savanna.

  “Oh! That’d be wonderful. Good, I’m glad to hear everything’s going well for them.”

  Skylar took a piece of pizza. “Do you mind keeping her for a minute so I can eat? She’s so fussy when I put her in the carrier.”

  “Do I mind?” Savanna did slow turns with the baby in her arms, bouncing her and eliciting adorable baby gurgles every time they passed Fonzie, who was dancing at Savanna’s feet. “Does it look like I mind, Hannah? Where is your other auntie, baby girl?” They were now on the grooming side of the shop and she peered into the back, past Syd’s desk.

  A very large, very furry Bouvier was on the grooming table, the short leash clipped to his collar. His dense, black, water-resistant coat was so long Savanna could hardly see his eyes, and his tail was wagging in wild arcs, flinging water everywhere. He was flanked by Sydney and Willow. Both women were drenched. Willow had one hand on the animal’s back near his hindquarters and was scratching his ears with the other hand while she talked baby talk to the big dog. Sydney was combing out his undercoat, which looked to be a painstaking process.

  Syd threw a look in Savanna’s direction. “Save us a couple of pieces of pizza. This guy is new and nervous. Dad’s friend Sebastian just adopted him. But Ringo’s such a good boy, isn’t he?” She patted him, reassuring the dog as she worked.

  “Do you need help?” Savanna didn’t know what on earth she could do to help, though.

  “Nope, we’ve got it.”

  “Thank you, though!” Willow called.

  Savanna rejoined Skylar, passing Hannah to her when she’d had a chance to eat. “There is no way I could do her job.”

  “Oh, tell me about it,” Skylar said. “You should’ve seen the two of them getting that dog out of the bath. I think he’s drier than they are. At least he seems like a sweet dog.”

  “Yes, he does.” Savanna studied her older sister. “Spoken like someone who’s growing to like dogs more all the time. Is Nolan still campaigning for one?” Savanna knew Travis was on board, but he wouldn’t cross Skylar. They were always good at presenting a united front.

  “Ugh. He wants a dog so badly, especially now with Uncle Max and Uncle Freddie here with Lady Bella. I just...”

  Savanna frowned, waiting. Skylar sounded more upset than the topic warranted. There was no deadline on whether or not to get a pet.

  “I don’t know if I can keep up this pace as it is. I can’t add a dog to our lives when I’m already stretched so thin, some days I feel like I’m drowning.” She met Savanna’s gaze with eyes filled with tears.

  Savanna was shocked. She leaned over and hugged her. “Sky, I’m sorry. What can I do?” Her sister never complained. Of the three of them, she was always the one who seemed to have it all together.

  “No one tells you what it’s like going from one kid to two,” she said. “It’s amazing. Truly, it’s a miracle. The best thing Travis and I have ever done. Hannah and Nolan are more important to me than anything in the world. But I’m so exhausted. I’ve been ramping up to full-time at work the last few weeks, and I don’t think I can do it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  Skylar stared at Savanna as if she’d suddenly sprouted antlers. She shook her head. “That’s not an option.”

  “Why not? Were you feeling okay when you worked three days a week? Part-time?”

  “Better than this. I love my job. I can’t quit—I don’t want to quit.”

  “Well, of course not. We all know how much you love what you do. That’s important. But why do you have to meet the status quo? What’s compelling you to work forty or more hours a week with a new baby and a preschooler, if you don’t have to financially?”

  “We don’t have to. We were all right with my part-time income and Travis’ job. I don’t know,” Skylar said, her tone filled with angst. “I always imagined I’d be that attorney. Knocking out cases, never turning down work, making partner in record time.”

  “Is that still what you imagine?”

  Skylar looked down at the baby in her arms. “Sometimes, yes. But sometimes, that stuff doesn’t matter at all to me. Not right now. I mean, in a minute, they’re going to be in school. Not everyone has the option to work less when they have a new baby. I’m fortunate I do.”

  Savanna nodded. “Yes, you are.”

  “I’ll lose traction. My coworkers will pass me up by the time I’m back full-time.”

  “Yes, that’s probably true.”

  Her older sister was quiet. The hum of the turbo grooming dryer in the back room was the only sound in the shop. After a long time, Skylar spoke. “I don’t care about traction. I think I know what I have to do. Thank you for that.”

  When they’d finished their second slice of pizza, Savanna said what was on both their minds. “I don’t know if we’re going to get a chance to talk with her.”

  Skylar nodded. They’d exchanged a few messages this morning and were both on the same page. “She’s the one who’s always cautioning us about the dangers of stress.” She’d lowered her voice to a whisper. “She’s got to know she’s off-kilter.”

  “I don’t think she can see how much, though,” Savanna said.

  “Probably not. Should we push her to talk about it? Or give her space?”

  “I’m too worried about her to give her much more space. I’m not sure how much of this is that dog back there and how much was planned by Syd to avoid us,” Savanna whispered back.

  Sydney made an appearance as Savanna and Skylar were cleaning up. “Hey,” Syd called from the doorway behind her desk. “Sorry I missed it. Are you guys heading out?” Her pink Fancy Tails apron was soaking wet.

  “Oh my gosh, you’re drenched!” Savanna exclaimed. “We weren’t leaving yet. I’ve still got time. We were waiting to talk to you.”

  “Um...” Sydney shot a look behind her, but Savanna spied Willow sweeping up. The Bouvier was finished. “Okay, let me scrounge up something dry to put on.” She disappeared again.

  Savanna exchanged looks with Skylar. Would she stall until they had to leave?

  Sydney came out a few minutes later wearing one of their dad’s construction company sweatshirts that came nearly to her knees. She hovered by the treat counter. “What’s up?”

  “Come sit down. Savanna has to leave soon.”

  Savanna pressed her lips together. Leave it to their older sister to cut through to the point. Sydney frowned but obediently joined them at the table.

  “We’re worried about you,” Savanna began.

  “You’ve just lost a good friend, and now wit
h Finn leaving, we think this is kind of piling up on you,” Skylar said.

  “Sydney,” Savanna said, waiting until her sister met her gaze. “Aidan says this is grief. He says the stages of grief don’t always happen in order. Sometimes they get all tangled up, and it can take time and help to find your way through.”

  “Why would you talk to him about this?” Sydney wailed, startling them both.

  Savanna sat back. “He asked about you. He was concerned.”

  “Because his flaky brother did what he’s best at, and now, thanks to you, Finn will hear all about how terribly I’m handling it.” Red color crept up Sydney’s neck toward her cheeks.

  “Aidan’s not going to tell Finn anything. He’s not thrilled with him, either.”

  Skylar spoke. “Syd, just let us help. Please. I’m sure there are grief support groups around here. We could go with you.”

  Sydney laughed, and it was a scary, mirthless sound. “I don’t need a support group. I need to know who killed my friend. You know what I keep thinking about? All those early mornings we had tea on her roof. She’d call me or I’d message her, just spur of the moment. So why not that Saturday? Why? What if I’d reached out to her and asked if she wanted a quick cup of tea with me? Would she still be here? We’d have been together and I bet the coward who snuck up that stairwell and shot her point blank wouldn’t have had the nerve. That’s all it would’ve taken! A cup of tea! Me stepping out of my own little world and asking her to have tea with me!”

  Savanna jumped up and pulled Sydney into her arms. She could feel her slight body shaking. Skylar put an arm around Sydney, baby Hannah babbling and plucking at Syd’s damp red braid. Savanna met Skylar’s gaze over her head, both their expressions reflecting their sister’s torment.

 

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