by Lee Hollis
Hayley couldn’t let it go.
She didn’t want her daughter’s self-esteem to suffer at the hands of an undeserving cad.
“I mean, honestly, I think you’re better off.”
She really had to just stop talking.
At this point, Gemma looked like she was going to explode.
“That doesn’t really help me with a prom date, now does it? All my friends are going to have a night to remember and I’m going to be stuck at home with you watching old episodes of American Horror Story on Netflix!” Gemma snorted before bounding off the couch and running up the stairs to her bedroom.
She punctuated her frustration by slamming her door shut.
Hayley had no intention of following her.
The best course of action was to leave her in peace for now.
And try to figure out a solution later.
Aaron slowly entered the living room holding two piping hot steaming fresh cups of coffee.
Hayley gratefully took one and blew on it before taking a long sip.
Aaron sat down next to her and put an arm around her, drawing her closer.
“God, I hate proms,” she said.
“I had a blast at mine,” Aaron said without thinking before catching himself. “I mean, as far as proms go.”
“Well, mine was a disaster. It was like Carrie’s. But without the pig’s blood.”
There was no response from Aaron.
He was probably still trying to shake the image of Sissy Spacek standing under a mirror ball, drenched in blood, eyes blazing, about to telekinetically take down her entire graduating class.
Hayley now had two missions.
Find a way to prevent her daughter from having to live with a terrible memory of her senior prom like her mother.
And find the person responsible for whacking her former frenemy in the back of the head and killing her.
Chapter 13
Hayley rang the bell twice at the seaside cottage in Seal Harbor that Nykki had rented for herself, Sabrina, Ivy, and their significant others while they were in town for the reunion.
There was no answer.
She noticed Nykki’s rental car parked in the gravel driveway.
Were they inside and just not answering?
She was about to turn around and walk back to her car, but her suspicious nature got the best of her. She circled around to the back of the house that was nestled in a wooded area just two hundred feet from the rocky shore.
Just as she suspected, Nykki and Sabrina were sprawled out on a pair of matching striped chaise lounges on the deck that jutted out from the back of the house.
Nykki was pouring what looked like lemonade from a crystal decanter into a tall glass and handed it to Sabrina, who grabbed it with a shaky hand and downed it in one long gulp.
Hayley was fairly certain the thirst-quenching lemonade was spiked with something much stronger.
Sabrina was in a one-piece pink bathing suit that was mostly covered by a flower print wrap that blew in the wind. Nykki wore white Capri pants and a light green and blue striped top, obviously going for the Jackie Kennedy in Hyannis Port look. Both women looked drawn and pale as if neither had much sleep, which was understandable given the violent circumstances surrounding Ivy’s death.
But Hayley knew there was more to the story, and was determined to find out what the women were so upset about.
Instead of making her presence immediately known, Hayley ducked down on her hands and knees and slowly made her way toward them from behind the hedges that lined the side of the house. Her hands and kneecaps were covered in dirt by the time she reached the edge of the porch.
Hayley strained to hear what the two women were saying to each other, but the waves rolling in with the tide crashed against the rocks on the shore, completely drowning them out.
She knew she had to get closer.
She waited until Nykki picked up the decanter and poured Sabrina another serving of the lemonade cocktail.
Nykki turned enough so her back was to Hayley.
Sabrina’s eyes were hidden behind a giant pair of Calvin Klein sunglasses. She was staring out at the ocean and did not even notice Hayley climb up onto the porch and scurry over behind a potted plant, wedging herself between the large leafy flowers and the sliding glass door that led inside the house. She was now only a few feet from Sabrina and Nykki and could finally hear most of their conversation.
“What if she talks? Then what?” Sabrina wailed.
“Who will believe her?”
“I can’t go to prison, Nykki. I binge watched Orange is the New Black last winter and it made me sick. I could never live like that.”
“Sabrina, you need to calm down. No one is going to prison. You just need to keep your cool. Let me handle this.”
Handle what?
And who were they talking about?
Who had some serious dirt on the two of them?
Suddenly they were interrupted by a dog barking inside the house.
They both perked up and turned their heads toward Hayley’s hiding place.
She crouched down even further hoping they wouldn’t spot her.
That’s when she noticed that on the other side of the sliding glass door one of Ivy’s toy poodles yapping and scratching at the glass, trying to get to Hayley.
Was it Sneezy?
Or Doc?
Who cared? He was about to give away her position.
She tried silently shooing him away but he wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, his incessant barking drew the attention of the other six dogs and within seconds they were all at the glass door jumping and yelping and spinning around in circles.
Nykki stood up from her chaise lounge, curious about what had gotten them so riled up, and gasped in surprise when she spotted Hayley squatting behind the potted plant.
“I should’ve known it would be you,” Nykki sneered, shaking her head.
Hayley sheepishly climbed to her feet, brushing the potted soil off her knees.
“I rang the bell twice but nobody answered,” she said.
Sabrina dropped her glass of spiked lemonade and it smashed against the wooden floor of the deck.
“Most people would take that as a sign that either no one was home or they weren’t welcome,” Nykki said, glaring at her for a moment before glancing back to check on Sabrina, who was a cowering mess in her chaise lounge. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”
“I came to check on Nigel just to see how he’s doing,” Hayley stammered, knowing they would never believe her.
“Well, Nigel is at the police station being questioned by Chief Alvares right now,” Nykki said.
“What did you hear, Hayley?” Sabrina blurted out in a panic.
Nykki spun around. “Sabrina, why don’t you go inside and get some rest? I know you’re still upset about Ivy’s murder.”
“She was right there! She must have heard something,” Sabrina cried, her voice quivering.
“Seriously, Sabrina, go inside. And be careful of the broken glass. We don’t need you cutting your foot.”
Nykki’s tone was direct enough that Sabrina finally clammed up, gingerly stepped around the broken glass and wet wood from the spilled cocktail, and then bolted inside the cottage, pushing the dogs back with her leg before shutting the glass door.
Nykki patiently waited until she was gone before she addressed Hayley again. “Why don’t you come back another time when it’s more convenient?”
“Nykki, whatever is going on between you two, you can tell me.”
Nykki smiled.
There was no way she was going to talk.
Hayley figured it was worth a shot.
Something distracted Nykki, who stared past Hayley and down the path to the shore. Hayley turned to see Mason Cassidy, in a tight blue speedo, emerge from the surf, having gone for an afternoon swim in the ocean. His taut tattooed muscles glistened in the sunlight, and as he trudged out of the surf shaking the water out of his h
air and wiping the sea salt from his eyes, it was hard not to appreciate his sheer manly ruggedness and action hero swagger.
Nykki turned back to Hayley. “In case you’re not aware, he’s unavailable, Hayley, so for Sabrina’s sake please make a note of it.”
“I’m not interested in Mason.”
“Really? You certainly have a funny way of showing it.”
“That kiss you saw at the reunion. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.”
Nykki nodded. “Okay. Thanks for stopping by, Hayley.”
“I’d really like to explain what happened to Sabrina myself.”
“You have nothing to worry about. I never mentioned what I saw to her.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s none of my business.”
“Then what were two talking so intently about right before Ivy was murdered?”
“And that, my dear, is none of your business.”
Nykki then pivoted toward the sliding glass door, her back to Hayley, and marched inside, stopping only to shove three of Ivy’s yapping dogs out of her way with a firm kick.
She slammed the glass door shut.
By now, Mason had spotted Hayley, and with a lascivious look on his face, he bounded up the gravel path from the beach to join her on the porch.
There was no way she was going to wait for him. Before he had a chance to reach her, she dashed back around the side of the house to her car parked out front, jumped in the driver’s seat and sped away.
Chapter 14
“I’m working on the Ivy Foster high school reunion murder story and I’ve come up with a great title. Most Likely to Succeed . . . with Murder!” Bruce Linney said, poking his head out into the front office where Hayley worked at her computer at her desk.
“I’m sorry, what?” Hayley said, not sure she heard him correctly.
“Maybe I should go with something simpler and more to the point. Like Class Reunion Killer!”
“Bruce, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You know I’ve been toying with the idea of writing my first true crime book. Let’s face it, I’ve been wasting away as a small town crime reporter long enough. It’s time to expand my horizons, focus on the big picture, and when your friend got whacked at your reunion, I thought to myself, this is it. This is my ticket to stardom as a bestselling author and maybe even the host of my own reality show on Investigation Discovery. I’ve certainly got the looks for it. Plenty of women have told me that.”
Hayley’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
She took a moment to collect herself, and then stood up and slowly walked over to Bruce.
She stared at him, her eyes fixed on his.
Bruce took a half step back, a bit uncomfortable with how much she was invading his personal space.
Hayley stepped forward and closed the gap, and then without warning, she slapped Bruce hard across the face.
So hard she left a red mark on his cheek.
“Jesus, Hayley! What the hell did you do that for?”
“You sick bastard! How dare you even consider taking advantage of my friend’s death just to further your own dismally pathetic career!”
“Well, man, when you put it like that, it makes me sound kind of insensitive,” Bruce said, rubbing the side of his throbbing face.
“Kind of? Bruce, you should hear yourself. You sound almost gleeful that one of my former classmates is dead.”
“Come on. It’s not my fault somebody beat her brains out at the reunion. I’m not a monster, Hayley. I mean, I do feel bad for her husband and her family and everybody who knew her. I’m just saying, her death shouldn’t be in vain. Perhaps there is some good that can come of it.”
“You getting your own TV show?”
“No. But a book about the murder, written by a trained professional with an up-close and personal view of the case, could go a long way in helping to bring her killer to justice. Lots of murderers got away with it because the police missed a clue in the initial investigation but then were caught after a book was written that revealed a lost detail that finally led to an arrest.”
Hayley shook her head.
Could this guy get any worse?
“The TV show is just an added bonus,” Bruce said casually.
Yes.
He could.
“Get out of my sight, Bruce. I don’t want you even near me right now.”
“Oh, Hayley, lighten up. It’s not like you were actually close to the victim. I heard you complaining about her and the other two to Liddy and Mona on the phone at least a dozen times before the reunion.”
“So now you’re eavesdropping on my phone calls?”
“I’m an investigative reporter. It’s my job to keep my eyes and ears open.”
“Ivy’s death is a tragedy. Not an opportunity for you to exploit,” Hayley said, her voice low and threatening enough for Bruce to back away from her toward the office bullpen.
“Why can’t it be both?” he squeaked, unable to stop himself.
The phone on Hayley’s desk rang.
She scooped up the receiver, grateful she now had a reason to ignore Bruce. “Island Times, this is Hayley.”
“It’s Sergio. Am I getting you at a bad time?”
“No, Sergio. Your timing is impeccable. You better get down here right away and arrest me for assault.”
“It was just a slap,” Bruce said.
“That was just the beginning,” Hayley warned, scowling. “I can do a hell of a lot more damage in the five minutes it will take him to drive over here.”
Bruce folded his arms and grimaced, but did not retreat. He was too curious as to why the chief of police was calling Hayley. It could be a family matter, but he was betting it was about the Ivy Foster case.
And he was right.
“I spent the whole day questioning Ivy Foster’s husband Nigel. I could barely understand a word he was saying because his accent was so thick,” Sergio said in a thick Brazilian accent.
“He’s English,” Hayley said.
“And I thought the American accent was hard to understand. Anyway, he admitted to having a public fight with his wife just before she was killed, but denied there were problems in the marriage. Should I believe him?” Sergio asked.
Hayley was about to answer, but then noticed Bruce hovering in the doorway, listening to her every word as he pretended to flip through the latest issue of the paper.
“Sergio, let me call you back on my cell.”
Hayley slammed down the phone and then grabbed her bag from underneath the desk and stormed out the front door. “I”m taking my break, Bruce!”
Bruce hurled the paper to the floor in frustration as Hayley left the building. She walked around the corner of the building to make doubly sure Bruce was well out of earshot before fishing her cell phone out of the bag and calling back Sergio. He picked up on the first ring.
“Chief Alvares,” he said.
“He’s lying, Sergio. I know for a fact they had a strained marriage. She was berating and embarrassing him from the moment I met him. It was tough to watch.”
“Do you think she might have driven him to the boiling point?”
“Breaking point. I’m not sure. She rode him really hard. But I don’t know if that was enough to send him into a murderous rage and bludgeon her to death!”
“Maybe it wasn’t a crime of passion. Maybe it was more calibrated.”
“Calculated.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Why do you say that?”
“Because I did a little digging and I found out that Nigel just took out a big life insurance policy on his wife Ivy two weeks ago. He signed the papers two days before they got on a plane in New York to fly up here for the reunion.”
Hayley fell back against the brick wall of the office building, stunned.
Things suddenly looked very bad for Ivy’s henpecked British-born husband.
She then noticed Bruce hanging out his office w
indow a few feet away from her, straining to hear any snippets of her conversation with Sergio.
She flipped him the finger before marching back around to the front of the building.
Chapter 15
“I am not, do you hear me, not going to bury my wife in a pink box!” Nigel roared in the casket selection room of McFarland’s Funeral Home.
“But it’s the same color as the frosting on her most popular cupcakes,” a woman who vaguely resembled the deceased countered. “I personally believe it would be a fitting tribute!”
“It costs twelve hundred dollars!”
“I can’t believe you’re penny pinching on your own wife’s funeral, Nigel,” the woman huffed. “You may have a posh English accent, but you are decidedly low class.”
Hayley stood just outside the selection room, trying to remain inconspicuous. She had stopped by McFarland’s on her way home from the office to see the funeral home owner, Lacey, with whom she had gone to high school. Lacey had recently taken over running the business since her parents were retiring and moving to Florida. Hayley needed Lacey to sign off on an ad that was to be placed in next Monday’s paper. There was a discrepancy about whether an exterior shot of the building or an interior shot of the main visitation room was to be featured and instead of e-mailing back and forth Hayley thought it would be easier just to drop in and take care of the matter in person on her way home.
Lacey was busy in the arrangement room with an elderly woman grieving the recent loss of her husband, so Hayley waited in the hallway. She had only been there a few seconds before she heard Nigel arguing with a woman Hayley assumed was Ivy’s sister, Irene, who was a few years younger and had just flown in from California to help with arrangements. She hadn’t seen her since they were kids, but the two sisters shared similar features and both had the same irritating high-pitched squealing voice.
“I was thinking more along the lines of this one,” Nigel said abruptly.
“You’ve got to be kidding! You might as well stuff her body in a garbage bag and leave it out on the street!” Irene wailed.
“Don’t be so overdramatic, Irene, it’s a perfectly fine casket.”
“What is it called, the welfare casket? It looks like it’s made of cheap plywood! It doesn’t even have an adjustable head rest like this one over here.”