by Tegan Maher
Gwenn Harvey's place was neat as a pin, with a nice yard and flowers hanging at intervals along her porch. There wasn't so much as a leaf out of place, and when we pulled up, she stepped out on the porch of her small ranch-style house to greet us.
Like her house, she was tidy. Her day dress wasn't new, but it was well tended and clean. She was wearing a flowered apron, and it, too, was neat. Her face, however, was severe, and her mouth had wrinkles around it like she kept her lips perpetually pursed. Her dark hair was shot through with gray and pulled back into a severe bun. At one point, she had probably been a pretty woman, but a life of righteous judgment had stripped her of that.
"Can I help you?" she asked, suspicion in her eyes. Her gaze raked over me, and I had the feeling I wasn't quite up to par.
"I'm Sheriff Cori Sloane and this is Alexander Dixon, a consultant with the sheriff's department. We need to ask you a few questions."
Her demeanor shifted toward slightly more pleasant, but a tad more suspicious, too. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean anything. Most people were a little suspicious when the law came knocking.
"Questions about what?" she asked, making an attempt to keep her face passive.
"About Daisy Westfield. More specifically about her relationship with your son."
Her eyes snapped with anger. "She didn't have a relationship with my son, and whoever told you she did is a liar. My son's a good boy."
I noted that she'd spoken of Daisy in the past tense, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Word spread in Castle's Bluff faster than a wild fire in July, so I'd have been more surprised if she hadn't heard about the murder.
"Besides," she said, her lip slightly curled, "I heard she mighta thrown herself over that banister, or just plain old fell. Wouldn't surprise me either way. She comes from trash and that musta been one big cross to bear. And them hardwood floors are slippery. She mighta fell."
"Evidence doesn't point to either of those being a likely scenario," I said. "And I know she was seeing your son. A witness saw them at the ice cream shop just this past weekend. And you've also been vocal about your displeasure. Now, care to try again?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Why don't you just out and out ask me what you came here to find out."
"Okay," I said. "Fair enough. Where were you yesterday morning, around eight o'clock?"
"I was right here, prunin' my roses."
"Was anybody with you, or can anybody corroborate that?" Alex asked.
She shook her head. "It's not like I knew I was gonna need an alibi."
I knew it was a question with an illogical answer, but I had to know. "Why did you dislike Daisy? Had the two of you ever had words? Did you not approve of where she worked or what she looked like, or how she acted?"
She drew her shoulders up. "I never met her. But blood will tell. Her mama's a hussy, and the things that girl was taught, ain't no way she's fit to be with my boy."
"So you've never even met her?" Alex asked, disbelief in his voice.
"Mr. Consultant Man, I don't have to meet a rattlesnake to know it's poison."
I decided to go for the throat. "So you're glad she's dead?"
At that, she faltered, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water for a couple seconds. "I reckon I ain't glad she's dead, but I am glad she ain't never gonna get the chance to corrupt my boy again."
Well, that was a non-answer if I'd ever heard one. I opened up my mind and took a quick poke at hers. It was a dark place, full of hate, and jealousy, and insecurity. With all that in there, I couldn't tell if she felt any guilt, or remorse either, for that matter. "Thank you, Mrs. Harvey. We'll be in touch. Please don't leave Castle's Bluff."
"Now wait just a minute. You can't tell me where I can and can't go—"
"I absolutely can," I snapped at her. "If you don't like it, I can take you to jail right now, because as it stands, you have no alibi, you hated the victim, and you've done nothing to convince me you're innocent in all of this."
"Fine," she said, crossing her arms and glowering at me, "but you've got this all wrong. You're right. I couldn't stand her, or the thought of her bein' with my boy, but it ain't my place to deal with her. She'll get that when it's her time to answer for what she is."
I raised a brow. "And maybe you decided it was takin' a bit too long for that time to come and decided to hurry the process along."
Without another word, we climbed back in the truck and backed out of the driveway.
"Do you really think she did it?" Alex asked.
"I don't know. I tried to pick her brain, but it's so slimy with all that hate that I couldn't wade through it. I think she should stay on the list for now, at least."
"So do I," Alex said.
"Me too," Chaos replied, yawning. "But not because of any gut feelings or other hoodoo."
"Then why?" I asked.
"Because look at those roses. They're not in bad shape, but they sure weren't pruned yesterday."
Alex slowed the truck and I twisted around to take a better look. Chaos was right. There were several dead blooms on it, and a couple branches sticking out farther than the rest.
"Well look at that," Alex said. "Points to the foxy lady for good investigating."
Chaos preened under the praise, and I rolled my eyes. There would be no living with her for at least a week.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
OUR NEXT STOPS WERE to pick up a DNA sample from Colleen, then send the package. I paid extra to same-day it, and hoped that Hunter's connection could get to it straight away. I needed to know who the old couple was, STAT.
"Where next?" Alex asked.
I wanted to talk to Rhea again, but my emotions were still too close to the surface. Still, she had been seen leaving the scene of the crime right in the window, then she'd lied about it. That was a problem.
Sighing, I said, "Sean's. Until we know more about the Smiths, Rhea is our next best shot."
"I agree, though I know it's gonna be hard for you."
"What's hard for me is that I have a murder on my hands and the best friend I buried five years ago was at the scene, then lied to me about it."
The more I thought about it, the madder I got. I wasn't sure if that was a stage of whatever it was I was going through—reverse grief?—or whether it was just good old-fashioned anger, but I needed to sort through it.
Alex reached across and squeezed my hand. "I can't honestly tell you how I'd respond in your situation, but I can tell you I'm proud of how you're dealing with it so far. You have every right to be mad, and if she can't see that and isn't willing to put in a little effort to make things better, then maybe she's not the person you remember."
That was just the thing, though. Rhea had always been a kindhearted person, but she'd also been self-centered. Most of that had probably come from being raised as an only child in a latchkey environment, but it was still there.
"Maybe she's not, but I sure did see flickers of her yesterday. The problem is that I know vampires are bred to be master manipulators. They're predators, so it's a survival skill. So, is she being herself, or is she manipulating me so I'll believe her?"
We rode in silence the rest of the way to Sean's, and I was surprised to find the driveway mostly empty when we got there. His guests must have been out for the day. I smiled thinking about Mrs. Smith's misconception yesterday; Sean really did have a yacht, and if she'd had occasion to be on it, she wouldn't have been nearly so miffed. Of course, she probably wouldn't have liked that she was a potential food source, though.
I didn't feel up to doing the whole song and dance with the butler, so I just rang the bell. When he answered, surprise lit his face for just a second. "At least when you use the knocker, I know there's a heathen on the other side," he said down his nose.
"I'm not up for it today, Jeeves. Just get Sean, please."
Annoyance flickered at the nickname, but if I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn there was just a touch of worry in there, too. I made a note
to be extra irritating the next time I showed up. It wouldn't do to upset the balance of one of the few relationships in my life that were constant.
He stood back to let us in, then motioned toward the sitting room. "Don't touch anything," he said. "The staff just dusted, and we don't need werewolf fingerprints dulling the silver."
"Love you too, Jeeves," I said, feeling a little bit better. At least until a flash of brunette hair caught my eye from the sofa. Somebody was sitting on the settee with her back to us, and turned at my voice. She gave a test sniff, then wrinkled her nose a bit.
"Let me guess—you must be the famed and honored Cori." Her voice was thick with a French accent.
I raised a brow. "Maybe. And who might you be?" Whoever she was, she was obviously a vampire, and likely an old one. It took several centuries before being awake during the day wasn't a struggle.
She quirked one side of her mouth up into a jaded half smile. "I'm ze one who's taken your place as Rhea's mellieur ami." She stood and held out an elegant, manicured hand. "Dominique Brosseau."
I took it, giving it a solid squeeze. Amusement flashed across her face, which pissed me off just a little. I wasn't sure whom she thought she was talking to, but it was time to put her in her place. I gave her a smarmy smile. "You didn't take my place. Rhea and I grew up together. We have a lifetime of memories, and there's no making up for that. Still, if you've been a friend to her while she's adjusted to this life, I'm grateful to you."
Jeeves called my name before she could respond. "Sean will see you in his study."
I raised a brow at her and inclined my head, though I didn't break eye contact. I'd learned as a child never to be the first to do that when dealing with a predator. After all, I was one, too.
"It was a pleasure to meet you," I said. "I'm sure we'll meet again now that Rhea's back."
Once Sean had closed the door and greeted us, I mentioned her.
"Pleasant woman, that Dominique," I said.
Sean gave me a wry smile. "Honestly, she usually is. This has been difficult for her, because Rhea's spent a lot of time alone, thinking. Dominique thought this was going to be a fun vacation for the two of them, but it's not turning out that way. It's hard for her to understand, because it's been centuries since she was human. She doesn't remember how conflicting and emotional it can be. Frankly, I'm glad Rhea's retained that. It gives me hope that I won't have to worry about her like I do so many of the others."
I had mixed feelings, too. Sean had been a friend to me. More than that, actually. He was sort of a father figure, even though we shared a mutual professional respect. I always knew that I was a rung or five lower than him in the scheme of things—he was, after all, almost a thousand years old and owned most of the town. Still, he'd never treated me with anything other than respect, so I was hurt and disappointed that he'd kept such a huge thing from me.
He held up a hand. "Before you even say anything, I want to apologize. I was in an untenable situation no matter how I looked at it. I either had to lie to you, which I deplore doing even if it's by omission, or I had to betray Rhea. In the end, I had to respect that it was her secret to either reveal or keep. I don't know if it makes any difference, but I'd do the same for you."
I heaved a defeated sigh. I couldn't argue with that, or even be mad at him for making the call he did. It was the right one. I said as much.
"Look at me Cori."
I did as he asked, and the sincerity in his eyes was enough to give my heart a squeeze.
"I'm not just apologizing. I'm telling you that I'm truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and, in her defense, I don't think Rhea did, either. She didn't even know vampires or werewolves or magic existed until she was one. She may not have died, but she did lose her life. I'm not sorry Estefan made the call he did because I may have done the same. He was just out running that night, and saw the crash. He pulled her from it, and there was no way she would have survived. He barely managed to save her. It was touch and go for days, and by the time I got here, they'd already left for Spain. I spoke to her, though, and she asked me to keep quiet until she decided what to do. I figured it was the least I could do. I don't remember being human, or at least I don't remember much, but I do understand not knowing where you fit in."
The whole time he'd been talking, my emotions had run the gamut from anger to sadness to pity.
"But the important thing in all of this Cori, is ask yourself—would you have rather she died?"
I jerked my head up. The question was jarring, yet it snapped everything into perspective. "Absolutely not."
He gave me a smile, then reached out and squeezed my hand. The coolness of his skin brought me the rest of the way out of my funk. "Then tell her that. Be grateful—you're getting a chance very few do. You're getting your friend back from the dead."
When he put it like that, I realized how petty I'd been being, and I decided then and there to fix it. The problem was, Rhea was still a solid suspect for the murder, and I couldn't honestly look into my heart and say for sure that I believed she was innocent.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO see if she's available?" he asked.
I thought about it for a second before I shook my head. "No. I have to solve this murder first, before I can turn my focus to anything personal."
Understanding lit his face. "And you're not sure she's innocent."
It never did any good to try to keep something from him, so I shook my head. "I'm not. She lied about not being there, Sean. The people who saw her positively identified her, and it's not like there are a ton of cars like that just driving up and down the streets of Castle's Bluff."
He nodded, and shifted his gaze away, thinking. "I know. It's been troubling me, too. I asked her about it, and she's sticking to her guns, as you'd say. She swears she wasn't there."
He looked back up at me. "Did she have some sort of connection to the dead girl that I don't know about?"
"She does, though I'm not sure how strong it is. It could be completely inconsequential, or it could be motive for murder, depending on how Rhea views the night of her death. Daisy Westfield was the manager of the restaurant Rhea was working at. Rhea had shown up for work late, as she had several times before, and the owner made Daisy fire her."
Sean nodded slowly. "I see now what you mean. So ... if Rhea accepts that it was her fault she lost her job, then she has no motive. If, on the other hand, she believes it was Daisy's fault, then it was also on Daisy that Rhea was even on that road at that exact time, and by extension, it's Daisy's fault she was in the wreck."
"Exactly."
He was quiet for a few moments while he thought. "I think Rhea has come to terms with her new life. That's not to say, though, that she doesn't wish the crash had never happened. I guess what it comes down to, is do we think Rhea is a murderer. And the answer to that, at least for me, is an unequivocal, resounding no."
He steepled his fingers. "One of the main reasons Estefan took her to Spain was because she was having a hard time adapting. She refused to drink human blood, and she wouldn't leave the house for fear of hurting somebody. He has a large country estate where she could roam for miles without fear of running into a human."
Alex spoke up for the first time. "Are you telling me she's never drank real blood?"
Sean gave him a small smile and nodded. "She'll only drink synthetic, though Dominique has tried to convince her to try one of the vintages I keep in stock from the blood bank. She jokes that she's afraid that if she tries it, she'll like it, but that's not the reason. She had a hard time accepting who she is. Hurting somebody just isn't in her nature."
I thought back to the wicked temper she'd had when we were growing up. She'd been in more than her fair share of fights, and she hadn't grown out of it. I was having trouble reconciling the girl I'd grown up with and the gentle soul he was describing. I said as much, and he shrugged.
"You know I don't involve myself in the human goings-on in Castle's Bluff. A
ll I can speak to is the woman I've known since she was turned. I did pay attention, because I felt a certain responsibility for her, both because she was close to you and because she was from my town and it happened when Estefan was staying at my home. Though to be honest, I've only met her in person a few times."
There wasn't anything left to say, really, so I made our excuses. Before he opened the doors to see us out, I turned to him. "Thank you for helping me see the situation clearly. And I don't blame you. I would have done the same thing in your shoes."
He smiled, relief lighting his face. "Thank you, Cordelia. There aren't many times when I find myself at odds with my conscience, but this was one of them. I'm grateful to still count you among my allies." He paused. "And friends."
Jeeves was waiting to see us out, and Sean winked at me. "I think you're growing on him. When he announced you, he wasn't even frowning. There may have even been a touch of concern."
I snorted. "Don't go getting ahead of yourself. Jeeves and I have a rhythm."
That got an outright laugh. "You do, indeed. I'm truly glad you're part of our entourage. And you too, Alexander. Speaking of, Charlotte's in residence. Why don't you make time for a lesson while you're here?"
I glanced at Alex, who shrugged. "May as well," he said. "We can't do anything until we get the results back from the test, anyway."
"Test?" Sean asked. "What test?"
Alex explained the situation to him as we strolled down the long hall toward the rear courtyard where we had our lessons, our shoes noiseless on the gleaming gray marble.
"So you don't know who these people are?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"Nope. All we know is that they most definitely aren't Clair and Harold Smith. Ms. Ellen tracked down the address listed on their licenses, and a young couple lives there."