The Darkest Hour

by Anina Collins

  “There’s something wrong with all this. She was supposed to stay for three weeks, and that would leave a week more. Bethany told me herself about the visit and said three weeks. Why would she leave early?”

  Derek shrugged again. “For a million reasons we might never know. Maybe she got homesick. Maybe she and her sister had a fight. Maybe she had to return to work early. I don’t know. I’m just hoping whoever killed Bethany didn’t harm her sister too.”

  He might have thought the whole Mariah facet of this case was next to meaningless, but I sure didn’t. Bethany and her sister had been estranged for a few years, and this was the first visit between the two of them in a long time. She’d told me how happy she was to have her sister coming to town and how she hoped to truly mend the rift that had come between them after their mother died, so the idea that Bethany would let anything happen to ruin their planned time together to me sounded like something we needed to investigate.

  But it was clear that until Derek found Mariah he didn’t intend to do much with that line of inquiry, even though Mariah was likely an integral part of this entire case.

  “So what’s your theory of the case then?” I asked him, hoping to hear something other than Alex did it.

  A sheepish look crossed his face. “Well, until about ten minutes ago, I thought it was very possible that this was a case of a jilted love. Bethany broke up with Alex and he didn’t take it well. He snapped and killed her.”

  I felt my face twist into a look of pure disgust. “Well, now that you know that’s complete and utter nonsense, do you have a different theory of the case?”

  “No, but I’m sure you have one, so let’s hear it,” he said with a similar look to mine marring his usually attractive face.

  In truth, I didn’t have a theory of the case, other than Alex wasn’t the murderer. I knew Bethany well enough to know that active social life of hers had included some winners in the boyfriend department, but she hadn’t told me about anyone since she and Alex had stopped seeing each other. Part of that was surely because she knew he and I had grown close, but I had the sense that she hadn’t moved on to anyone worth mentioning.

  So I admitted the truth to Derek. “I don’t have one. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to do that to Bethany. Everyone loved her.”

  As I thought about how true that statement really was, Stephen walked into the office to deliver a piece of paper to Derek. He walked past me on his way out and shot me the same snarky look he had at the crime scene. Unnerved, I opened my mouth to ask what his problem could be, but Derek began talking about what he’d given him.

  “Speaking of everyone loving her, did you see that bouquet of red roses on the kitchen counter in Bethany’s apartment this morning?”

  I thought back to walking through there earlier and couldn’t recall seeing any flowers. “No, but I wasn’t exactly focused since I’d just heard one of my good friends had been murdered.”

  “Well, the card on the dozen of red roses said, ‘I know I messed up but forgive me, my love.’”

  “And? Was it signed by someone?”

  “No, and there weren’t any fingerprints on the card either.”

  Confused as to where he was trying to take me with this, I asked, “So you’re taking time to focus on a card with no signature or fingerprints why?”

  Derek looked down at a sheet of paper to his left and handed it and the card to me. “See anything similar?”

  I scanned the report sheet he’d just handed me and saw only one place where there was handwriting. At the very bottom of the form Alex had handwritten his signature. I looked at the card from the bouquet of flowers and understood why Derek had given this any thought at all. The handwriting on the report and on the card could be seen as similar, although I didn’t think they were from the same person.

  “So you think this is Alex’s handwriting? No way. And can I mention that this doesn’t even sound like him? ‘I know I messed up but forgive me, my love.’ I don’t think so. He wouldn’t write something like that. It’s just not him.”

  Derek took the card and piece of paper back and shook his head. “I think you’re being swayed by your feelings, Poppy. The handwriting on both of these is very close.”

  “Do we know where the flowers came from? The card didn’t have any florist’s name on it.”

  “Carson’s Floral Shop right here in Sunset Ridge.”

  Refusing to believe that mattered, I defiantly stood my ground. “That doesn’t prove anything. They could have been ordered anywhere and just delivered by Carson’s. It isn’t like in the old days when you could only get flowers from your local florist. Anyone in the world could have ordered those flowers and had Carson’s deliver them.”

  “And the handwriting on the card? How do you explain that?” Derek asked sharply.

  “I have no idea, but why don’t we ask them? Feel like a little field work, Chief?” I asked as I stood to head over to Carson’s Floral Shop. With or without Derek, I was going to find out who ordered those flowers and if they delivered them.

  “Why not?” he said with a smile as he rose from behind his desk. “Maybe we’ll find something that will help us figure out what the hell was going on between the two of them.”

  I shot him a nasty glance, and he quickly added, “If anything. It could turn out that Carson’s helps us crack this case wide open.”

  Before we left, I stopped him with my finger in his chest and angrily said, “Do you think you could put away the nails for the crucifixion until you actually have some real proof that says Alex had anything to do with this? You are the chief of police, Derek, and he is one of your officers. Don’t you think a little of that innocent before being proven guilty thing could be extended to Alex?”

  He glared down at me for a moment but then softened his expression and nodded. “You’re right. I don’t mean to convict him already. You could be right and he could be innocent.”

  Looking up into that cute face, I smiled. “Try to remember that, okay? I know what’s behind this personal witch hunt you have going with him, but can you push your jealousy aside so a man’s life isn’t ruined?”

  “Jealousy? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t bother putting that confused face on, Derek. I know what your problem with Alex is. You’re jealous because I like him. Admit it.”

  He rolled his eyes and pushed past me to leave his office. “Ridiculous. I’m no more jealous of Alex because you’re with him than…”

  His sentence drifted off, likely because he couldn’t come up with an appropriate comparison, but I knew the truth. Like everyone else in Sunset Ridge, Derek had become accustomed to me being single and forever available, and now that had all changed. As flattered as I was that he liked me in that way, I couldn’t let his interest in me hurt Alex.

  Chapter Seven

  Carson’s Floral Shop stood as the only florist in Sunset Ridge, but its lack of competition hadn’t affected the charm of the store that had first opened back in the sixties by the current owner’s grandfather, Mitchell Carson. Always a place to find unique gifts and floral arrangements, it remained a favorite of folks in town even with the advent of online ordering and the ability to never step foot in the actual store while still buying flowers.

  A line of three young men all wanting a dozen red roses waited ahead of us, making me think that some kind of strange wave of disagreements had come over the couples in town. Young enough to be the type of customer who would choose to order online instead of coming into the store, the three each explained as they reached the counter that they needed a special bouquet for their girlfriends to appease their anger.

  Finally, after nearly ten minutes, we took our turn at the counter to speak to the store’s owner, Maria Carson. With her dark brown hair styled in a pixie cut that only reinforced how truly short she was at just over five feet tall, Maria perpetually looked like a little girl, even though she was in her mid-thirties. Derek and I had known her from school, and I remember
ed he’d dated her for a brief time right around the time of prom in their junior year. As with all of Derek’s ex-girlfriends, there was no bad blood between them, even if they weren’t close anymore.

  She recognized both of us and flashed us a smile. I pointed toward the door as I joked, “What’s going on in Sunset Ridge? Three boyfriends needing makeup flowers?”

  “It’s the January rush. I see it every year. The holidays can be killers on relationships. Too many family events, too much alcohol, too many chances for guys to mess up. So flowers help them get back in their girlfriends’ good graces. I don’t complain. Let them mess up all the time.”

  I elbowed Derek in the ribs and chuckled. “Hear that, Derek? It’s a thing with your entire sex.”

  He rolled his eyes as Maria asked, “What can I do for you two this afternoon?”

  The way she asked made it sound like she thought we were together in a romantic sense, so I quickly corrected her. “We’re here on police business, not personal.”

  I realized it was probably the place of the chief of police to explain that and looked up to see Derek smiling at me.

  “Thanks, Poppy. I guess they just give me the title because it sounds good.”

  Apologizing for my eagerness, I let him take over and do the talking, and he asked Maria about the flowers that had come from her shop to Bethany. “We don’t know when they were purchased, but I can tell you they looked fresh this morning.”

  Maria’s eyes opened wide in horror. “Oh my God! You mean that girl who was murdered in her car? That’s so horrible! Let me see what I can find out because I don’t think I took the order. I’d remember if I did.”

  She turned around to type in a few words into her computer and then walked away into the back room where they designed the flower arrangements. A few seconds later she returned with one of her employees in tow.

  “I didn’t take the order but Cynthia did. She can tell you what she knows.”

  I studied Cynthia and surmised she couldn’t have been more than twenty, if that. Unremarkable in every way save the way her one eye turned ever so slightly outward while the other one stared forward, she seemed eager to help.

  “Cynthia, I’m Derek Hampton, the chief of police, and this is Poppy McGuire. We need to ask you some questions about flowers that were sent to Bethany Lewis on Main Street in town. Can you tell us who ordered those flowers? Was it online or in person?”

  Without missing a beat, she answered, “In person. I remember because I mentioned to the man that I thought the name Bethany was very pretty and he said he thought so too.”

  “Do you remember what the man looked like?” I asked with my heart in my throat as I silently prayed to hear he was short and fat with blond hair.

  “Tall with dark hair. And he had a deep voice,” she said without thinking about it.

  My heart sank.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, my shoulders sagging under the weight of lost hope.

  Derek then showed her the card that had come with the flowers and asked, “Did he write out this card?”

  Cynthia shook her head. “No, that’s my handwriting. He told me what to write, though.”

  My hopes buoyed, I quickly asked, “Do you remember anything else about him?”

  She took a moment to think and shrugged her shoulders. “Not really. It was really busy that day. It took all of five minutes, so I didn’t really pay attention to him. He was nice enough, though. Said he wanted them delivered to his girlfriend on Sunday, which meant he had to pay extra. He didn’t seem to be bothered by that, though.”

  “How did he pay?” Derek asked as I tried not to hate the way she referred to Bethany as the man’s girlfriend.

  Cynthia turned around to look at the computer and then back to face us. “Cash. I had to look because I remember it got really busy right after he came in.”

  “Do you remember anything else about him? Had you ever seen him before that day?” I asked, silently praying she wouldn’t say she’d seen him all the time since he was one of Derek’s police officers.

  “You know, now that I think about it, I had seen him before, but I can’t remember where.”

  Then Derek did what I knew he had to and handed her a picture of Alex taken at a picnic the police had held last summer. Smiling and happy, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world as he waited for his turn at bat in the baseball game in which he’d scored the winning run.

  “Is this the man?” he asked as I continued to remember that happy day at the park.

  She looked at the picture for nearly a minute and then looked up at us. “I’m not sure, but it could be. I was so busy that day I can’t say for sure.”

  Derek took the picture from her and said, “If you remember anything else, please call me at the police station. Just ask for the chief, okay?”

  Cynthia agreed and said she’d think about it to try to jog her memory. We left Carson’s to head back to the station, but I knew what Derek was thinking. Even though she hadn’t been able to say it was Alex she’d waited on, she hadn’t been able to say it wasn’t either. He was just as much a suspect now as before we walked into the flower shop.

  We silently walked the few blocks back to the police station where I decided I needed to step up my efforts in the case. Grabbing his arm, I looked up into his eyes with a pleading look and said, “I want to see Bethany’s apartment, Derek.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’s still a live crime scene, Poppy.”

  “Please, Derek. I need to get in there and look around for myself. Don’t tie my hands. Please.”

  He frowned and shook his head, but I could tell he would relent. “I need to have dinner, but I’ll pick you up at your house at eight.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  Derek took hold of my shoulders and stared down into my eyes so intently I leaned away from him, frightened. “Do not go over there without me, or I swear to God, Poppy, I’ll make sure you don’t see another thing in this investigation. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, I understand, Derek.”

  Relief washed over me that I’d get the chance to look through Bethany’s apartment and not have to rely on Derek’s guys and the state police crime scene unit to find a clue. I knew they were highly trained, but they didn’t know her like I did and I was sure I’d find something there to show Alex was innocent.

  I threw my arms around his middle and hugged him close. “Thank you, Derek. Thank you!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Do you want a ride home now? I know it’s been a long day for you too, so you must be exhausted.”

  Stepping back, I shook my head. “No. I’m good to walk. It will give me time to clear my head and focus on what I need to do. See you at eight!”

  As I headed down the street toward my house, I took out my phone and texted Alex to let him know I was doing everything I could to prove he couldn’t have done this terrible thing. I didn’t tell him what I would be doing in just a few hours because I didn’t want to get his hopes up, but mine were already soaring.

  After the day I’d had and the lack of luck with both Ken and Cynthia, things had to get better.

  Chapter Eight

  Just before eight as I stood waiting for any sign of Derek’s car turning the corner onto Barn Street, my phone vibrated against my hip. I dug it out of my pocket to see Alex had messaged, and a tiny part of me didn’t want to read what he’d written because I’d found nothing to help him. The first day of the investigation had nearly ended and still everything seemed to point to him.

  Frowning, I swiped my fingertip across the screen and his words lit up in front of me. In each one, I heard the anguish he’d suffered all day, and my heart nearly broke.

  Tell me you’ve found something. Has Derek checked her phone and laptop? I feel like a caged animal here. Give me anything to hold onto.

  I couldn’t let him languish out there in his house all alone. A text back telling him some nice lies wasn’t what he deserved, so even though I had
nothing to report that would give him any solace, I called him. It was more for me than him, in truth. I needed to hear his voice. I needed to hear him say the words that would make me believe in myself again.

  He answered after only one ring, like he was sitting on top of the phone waiting for some word to put his mind at ease. “Poppy? What’s going on?”

  Tears threatened to choke me and trap my words in my throat, but I swallowed hard and said, “Alex, I wanted to call and see how you’re doing. Are you okay?”

  All I heard was a heavy sigh. I hated to hear him so torn up like this. Finally, he answered my question. “I don’t know. I’ve been going out of my mind here all day waiting to hear from you or to see the police pull up to my door to arrest me. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  Quietly, I admitted the truth. “I didn’t call because I haven’t found anything out yet, Alex. I swear I’m working on it. I won’t let them railroad you on this. I just haven’t found the evidence that will clear you.”

  My words didn’t sound as optimistic as I’d hoped they would, instead coming out like some sentence my brain had passed. I believed him when he said he didn’t kill Bethany, but nothing I’d found so far proved that.

  “You have good instincts, Poppy. I’ve told you that since the first day we talked.”

  Smiling as I remembered our first real meeting, I joked, “Actually, that was the second day we talked. The first day you pointed a gun at me, but I know what you’re saying.”

  He surprised me with a witty comeback that told me the Alex I knew and loved was still alive and well inside him. “Actually, that was the first night we met as you were sneaking around my house, and I still stand on the claim that I was justified to point a gun at you. I didn’t know if you were a burglar come to rob me.”