by Cole,Lyndsey
“To Wyatt,” they chorused, clinking their glasses before taking a sip.
Their conversation was interrupted with introductions and an overview of the class. The easels were in a circle around a bouquet of flowers. The lilies, gerbera daisies, roses, and filler foliage provided a variety of colors. They were encouraged to interpret it however they liked and include a complementary background.
This was Piper’s first class and she was a little nervous. Painting wasn’t her specialty. But with all of the afternoon’s drinks coursing through her veins, her confidence grew. She settled into her chair and dipped her paintbrush into the green paint to get started.
“You knew Wyatt?” Lydie asked, turning to Piper.
Piper’s earlier reluctance to talk to Lydie dissipated with each sip she took. “I just met him last night,” Piper said. She glanced at Aria who was focused on the task in front of her.
“What a coincidence.”
Piper didn’t hear any malice in the reporter’s voice, only surprise at the irony.
“So you were one of the last people to see him alive,” Lydie stated.
Aria leaned forward to look around Piper. “Piper wasn’t. She called it an early night. But I was with him until two in the morning.”
“I understand he was killed sometime between two and four a.m.” Lydie’s voice held no emotion.
“That’s what I heard too,” Aria confirmed.
“So you weren’t there when it happened?” Lydie was switching into reporter mode. Piper wanted to warn Aria to keep her mouth shut. Lydie had a way of twisting everything into a story that would sell more papers even if there were more lies than truths in it.
Aria scoffed. “No, I wasn’t there. You think I would be here tonight if I’d been present when he was murdered? I’d either be behind bars or getting counseling.”
“Bankston,” Lydie said thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be related to Detective Bankston, would you?”
Aria smiled. Piper could see that was exactly the conclusion she wanted Lydie to draw. “I would be related to him. I’m his daughter.”
Lydie tried unsuccessfully to hide her surprise a second time. But when she spoke, it was clear that she could barely contain her excitement. She stumbled over her words. “You wouldn’t have happened—I mean, you wouldn’t happen to have any inside information about Wyatt’s murder, would you?”
Aria smiled condescendingly. “I wouldn’t.”
Piper turned back to her blank canvas. While Aria and Lydie talked over Piper, she made headway with her bouquet. She didn’t think it looked anything like the real thing, but she had to admit that she liked it. That could be due to the increased volume of alcohol, but she thought it was actually pretty good.
“Who’s covering his murder at the Bulletin?” Piper asked innocently. She could play Aria’s game of acting more concerned than she really was in an attempt to get information.
Lydie smiled. “The one and only. You’re looking at her.”
Piper’s heart sank. She didn’t want to have to be that careful with what she said.
Lydie tilted her head to the side. “If you just met Wyatt last night, were you on a date with him?”
Aria laughed. “One guy and two girls? Yeah right!”
“I understand Eli Smith-Michaels was brought in for questioning because he was one of the last people to see Wyatt alive. Was he out with you?”
Aria and Piper remained silent.
“I thought so.” Lydie smiled, her lips tight, keeping her teeth completely hidden.
“Eli’s not guilty,” Piper said before she could think about the implications of that statement.
Lydie’s right eyebrow rose. “Oh? And how would you know that?”
Piper didn’t have an answer.
“Because he was with you between two and four in the morning?” Lydie smirked.
Piper looked quickly in Lydie’s direction. “No. I went home alone well before two.”
“Can anyone confirm that?” Lydie asked.
“It sounds like you’re trying to confirm an alibi,” Piper said. “You wouldn’t be digging for a story, would you?”
Lydie sipped her drink. “You do make such good stories.”
Piper fumed. Back in December she was a victim of false allegations published in the Emerald Island Bulletin. Thanks completely to Lydie Jackson.
“Well, if Eli isn’t guilty like you claim, I could give you a few leads as to who would have a reason to want Wyatt dead.” Lydie didn’t continue until Piper and Aria were both looking at her. Piper’s belly filled with butterflies, much like the anticipation of a first date.
But this was better.
This was so much better.
“We’re listening,” Aria finally said, breaking the tension.
Lydie finally continued. “You can bring this information to your dad,” she started, locking eyes with Aria. “When Wyatt got the job—when he moved up from intern—he knocked out Mariah Thorton. She’d only been there a few months. I don’t know exactly what happened, but there was definitely bad blood between them.”
“Like what?” Piper asked, intrigued. She wanted to know Eli wasn’t guilty. She wanted to go on another date with him. She couldn’t do that if he was behind bars. They both wore flannel on a blind date. How perfect was that?
Lydie shrugged. “Don’t know. But I can give you her number. She works at The Sunday Voice.”
“The tabloid?” Piper asked, her voice rising at the end of the question.
“Yeah. Her career really took a hit with whatever happened with Wyatt.” Lydie pulled her phone from her pocket. “Here’s her number.”
Piper added it to her phone and then stashed the device.
“You wouldn’t want to give me your number, Piper, would you?” Lydie asked.
“Nope.” Keeping her number private was her only hope at not publicly being connected to this murder.
Lydie smiled. “Then I guess you don’t want a second suspect’s name.”
“We do,” Aria spoke up. “Piper, give Lydie your number.”
“No way.” Piper refused to budge. She only had a cell phone so it wasn’t listed in any phone book. And she didn’t have a permanent residence so she was hard to track down. In any public record it looked like she still lived with her parents and she was fine with that. Especially if it meant Lydie couldn’t track down her phone number.
“Well, I’ll be generous. I’ll give you a second suspect anyway. I want justice for Wyatt as much as you do. Maybe more. Amber Choate. Ex-girlfriend.”
“It always comes back to the ex,” Piper teased. “You can’t end a relationship these days without being seen as wanting more.”
Lydie held up her hands. “I’m just passing on leads. Take this information to Detective Bankston.” She met Aria’s eye. “Or don’t.” She shrugged. “But if you want to know the truth about what happened, I’d start looking there.”
“Anyone else?” Piper asked. This could be their only opportunity to get so much information in one place.
“Check out Wyatt’s reporting. He was a good reporter, but everyone can get sucked into a good story. There could have been a couple instances where he got carried away and embellished. You know how that can go, don’t you, Piper?”
Piper’s blood ran cold. Lydie spread such nasty falsehoods about her that business picked up at Gone Fish’n just so customers could ask her about her innocence. It continued today, two months later.
If Lydie ever turned up dead, Piper was sure she’d end up on the suspect list because she had a motive. The motive of revenge.
So, yes, she could understand how a victim of defamation could want to murder the reporter who spread such awful lies.
10
“You want a ride home?” Aria asked at the end of the class.
Piper kept her eyes glued to her painting. The colorful bouquet at least looked like flowers, and the dark background she gave the painting made them really pop off the canvas.
“How much have you had to drink?” Piper asked, finally looking away from her masterpiece.
“Same as you. Actually, no. I had less. You had a drink before I got here.”
Piper smiled. “I had kind of a rough day.” She didn’t tell her friend about all the drinks she had that afternoon.
“Oh right. We never even talked about you quitting. Come on. I’m not giving you a choice. I’m driving you home.”
Piper didn’t argue. She followed Aria outside and loaded her bike on the roof rack. She placed her painting in the back seat and buckled herself into the passenger seat.
“So you quit,” Aria stated when she was secured into the driver’s seat. She turned the car on and blasted the heat on high.
“Yup.” Piper stared ahead. “You know where the Morettis live?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“Nope. Why’d you quit?”
Piper pointed out her window. “Head toward the marina.”
Aria did as instructed. “Why’d you quit?”
Piper sighed. She wasn’t going to be able to get out of this conversation. She did want the ride home, but she didn’t want to talk about this. Again.
“Aunt Viv was being a pill.”
Aria didn’t laugh. “Earth to Piper. Not all parts of a job are great.”
Piper turned to look out the window. Why did everyone treat her like a teenager in her first job? She knew not everything was perfect about working at Gone Fish’n. Aunt Viv’s badgering today was just the final straw.
“I know. Maybe I would have quit soon anyway. I’ve been working there since I was eighteen. Maybe it was just time for a change.”
Aria nodded. “We’re looking for a raptor care assistant.” Aria worked at the Emerald Island Animal Rehabilitation Center north of town.
“Thanks. But I don’t have any experience with birds,” Piper said, defeated.
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Aria offered.
“Turn here.” Piper pointed to the left.
“Really? Here?” Aria flipped on her blinker and merged into the middle turning lane. “I’ve lived in Emerald Island all my life and I’ve never gone up here.”
“Yeah. I never had either. It’s still a ways to the Morettis’ gated community. It’s way out there.” Her hand flicked into the dark void.
Piper watched the world go by outside her window. The more everyone mentioned her decision to quit, the more she questioned whether or not it was a good idea.
“What do you think of everything Lydie told us?” Aria asked. “You think Mariah or Amber could have killed Wyatt?”
Piper shrugged and kept her gaze on the passing darkness. “I don’t know. It sounded like she was just throwing stuff out there for you to pass on to your dad.”
“What about a possible victim in one of Wyatt’s articles? Lydie made it sound like no reporter is free from embellishing. Wouldn’t you like revenge for everything Lydie wrote about you in December?” Aria started waving her hand around as she spoke, really getting into this theory.
“Of course I’d like to get revenge. But I wouldn’t kill her. I mean, back when it was all happening I thought it’d be nice to see her dead. But I didn’t really mean it.” Piper moved her gaze from her passenger window to the front windshield. They were quickly approaching the gatehouse where Aria would have to enter a code.
“I know you didn’t really mean it. You’re too nice.”
“Usually.” Piper smiled at her friend as she slowed. “The code is Italy.”
“Really? Italy? Aren’t they Italian? Wouldn’t someone guess that?”
“I think it’s just a temporary code while I’m house sitting,” Piper explained.
As they waited for the gate to open, snowflakes started falling. Just a few at first, but by the time Piper was unloading her bike from the top of the car it was a full on blizzard.
Piper stashed her bike in the garage and walked back out to Aria’s car. She had to squint against the onslaught of snowflakes. “Are you gonna be okay getting home?” she asked as she grabbed her painting from the back seat.
“Studded snow tires, baby.” Aria smiled. “Good thing you don’t have to go to work tomorrow,” she teased. “I hear the city’s out of salt. Even the massive tires on your bike wouldn’t be any match for what they’re forecasting.”
“Yeah. Maybe it was a good thing I quit. Otherwise Aunt Viv would fire me tomorrow when I can’t make it to work anyway.” Piper wondered if Aunt Viv really had it in her to fire her own niece. Now she’d never know.
“Essential employees only, I was told. I might even have the day off.”
Piper shivered as snow started melting down her back. “What do you mean? You’re not essential?”
“Not essential enough to brave this storm. Call me if you need a ride anywhere tomorrow. Does the bus even come out this far?”
“Not sure. But it’s over a mile to the gatehouse anyway. I’ll just hole up with the annoying dogs I’m taking care of. I don’t know why anyone gets little yippy things and calls them dogs. They’re more like giant grasshoppers on caffeine.”
Aria laughed. “But it pays your bills. Now, close the door, it’s freezing in here.”
Piper smiled and slammed the back door shut. She waved as Aria backed out of the driveway in near-zero visibility and then hustled inside. She didn’t want her masterpiece to get ruined in the snow.
Ivory and Cherry were barking their heads off on the other side of the garage door. Piper carefully cracked it open and peeked through. The Pomeranians were jumping three feet in the air, all four feet leaving the ground.
“You missed me?” Piper asked them.
Their barking didn’t change. She couldn’t tell if they were trying to scare her back out of the house or tell her to come in and feed them.
“What’s for dinner tonight, you little ankle biters?” she asked them as she led the way into the kitchen. They trailed after her, yipping at her heels. “You know, if you didn’t bark so much, I could understand why Jacqueline and Giovanni have you. But you’re making me go deaf,” she shouted at the dogs, but to no avail.
Piper opened the fridge and pulled out a container of homemade dog food. It was the last one. She’d have to make more tomorrow. Even the freezer didn’t have any more meals for the dogs.
There was another good reason she didn’t have to go to work tomorrow—she would have to cook for people and dogs. She took out a steak that cost more than the Morettis were paying her for the two months she was living here. The steak went into the fridge for Piper to cook tomorrow and turn into many meals for the spoiled dogs.
“Come on.” Piper enticed the dogs back to the sunroom with their container of meat, rice, and vegetables. The dogs ran in front of her this time, their toenails clacking on the wood floors, and waited in front of their respective bowls. “You guys don’t know how good you have it.” Piper spooned the food into the bowls and then cleaned out their grass boxes. If the storm wasn’t too bad, she should really take them for a walk in the morning.
Piper had far too much sugary alcohol in her body to go to bed yet. It was after ten but she had nothing to get up for in the morning. She got on the Morettis’ computer and looked up The Sunday Voice.
Piper was not one to read newspapers, never mind tabloids. She didn’t even know Emerald Island had its own tabloid. It certainly wasn’t a big enough city to have local celebrity gossip. It was barely bigger than a large town.
World’s First Double Headed Alligator!
Famous Face on Stick of Butter!
Piper couldn’t continue. She felt her brain cells dying off at an alarming rate with each word she read. If this was Mariah Thorton’s job now, she couldn’t blame her for wanting revenge on Wyatt if he was the reason she lost her job at the Bulletin.
Piper scrolled to the bottom of the page to search for contact information for the poor souls responsible for publishing such drivel. Not so surprisingly, there was none. It seem
ed that The Sunday Voice didn’t want to be contacted.
Instead of digging around the website—she knew there had to be contact information somewhere—Piper pulled up the Emerald Island Bulletin website instead. She wanted to know what Lydie was writing about Wyatt’s murder.
The homepage displayed a rather flattering photo of Wyatt holding up a glass of beer in a toast. He was dressed up, maybe at a wedding. The headline read, Bulletin Loses One of its Own, and Lydie Jackson’s photo and byline were just beneath it.
Piper clicked on the title of the article and started reading.
Lydie seemed to be treating this story more professionally than she did the last murder in Emerald Island. Then, unlike now, she made up stories about possible murderers—including Piper. This time, the article focused on Wyatt’s life.
Piper learned more about Wyatt from Lydie’s article than she did while out with him last night. For example, he fostered retired service dogs until they were adopted. That explained his interest in the dogs Piper was taking care of. He was also in the dog training business on weekends. He seemed to have almost a one track mind—dogs.
She also learned that since the age of eleven he’d collected old dog collars. He would write to shelters and training facilities all over the world asking for any old collars that were no longer in use. He had one from as far away as South Africa. Now, the hundreds of dog collars were strung around his apartment, connected end to end.
If that wasn’t enough reason not to want a relationship with him, Piper didn’t know what was.
She scrunched her nose, thinking how close Aria might have been to dating a dog collar aficionado. Who would be crazy enough to stick with him after learning about his bizarre collection?
Amber Choate, Piper remembered. Amber Choate was crazy enough to want a relationship with him.
Was she crazy enough to kill him?
11
Monday morning, Piper woke up to silence. No yipping dogs. No outside traffic. No alarm sounding. No phone ringing.
Not even a snowplow.
She slowly opened her eyes to the darkness of the bedroom and saw light peeking around the edges of the window blinds. She had a moment of panic that she would be late for work before remembering that she quit yesterday.