Cut to the Corpse

by Lucy Lawrence

  She did not feel the need to mention everyone who was in attendance. Again, she didn’t want an overabundance of testosterone to complicate matters.

  “Jake, the fiancé?” he asked.

  “Yep, he has a vested interest in this,” she said.

  “I’ll say,” Dom said. “I hope it works out for him.”

  “Me, too. Thanks for calling me, Dom,” she said.

  “My pleasure. I’ll keep you posted,” he promised.

  “Do,” she said.

  They said good night and Brenna shut her phone. So, Clue was expecting a big payout, but for what and from whom? She wondered if Chief Barker knew this, and I decided he must. He’d been out to the mill and to the bar; someone must have mentioned that Clue was bragging about money. Maybe that’s why Tara hadn’t been arrested. Maybe the chief knew more than he was letting on and Tara would soon be free of suspicion.

  Then again, why did Clue end up in Tara’s bed? Was it just bad luck on Tara’s part to need a ride home on a night when Clue’s enemy made a move on him? Or was it more personal? Was it someone like Maya Hopper, who wanted Jake back, and so used an opportunity to get rid of his best friend and have the blame dumped on his fiancée, clearing the path for her to win him back? It seemed unlikely, but anything was possible. In fact, Julie Harper still looked like a good suspect as the enraged stalking and pregnant ex, who finds the father of her unborn child in bed with another woman.

  Brenna put her phone away and hurried toward the door, eager to share her news with Tara. When she arrived at the bar, the woman with the severe black bangs had worked her way to their group. Tenley and Matt had left the dance floor and were standing with the others.

  “You’re her, aren’t you?” the woman asked Tara.

  “I’m sorry?” Tara said.

  “The woman they found in bed with Clue,” the woman said, as if Tara was even dumber than she had supposed.

  Brenna moved in beside Tara and looked at the Xena the warrior princess wannabe.

  “What if she is?” she asked. “What’s it to you?”

  The woman leaned back and studied Brenna. “Nothing.” She shrugged.

  “You’re Valerie Scott,” Jake said. “I worked on your Harley.”

  The woman turned her head toward him and gave him a once-over. It was an appraisal that was sexual in nature, but then, Brenna was pretty sure everything this woman did was like that, very elemental.

  “You do nice work,” she purred. “But you have terrible taste in friends.”

  Tara moved closer to Jake as if she could shield him from Valerie.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Clue Parker was your friend, wasn’t he?” Valerie asked.

  “Yeah, he was.” Jake’s voice was low, as if weighed down by the feeling of loss.

  “I saw him drop it in her drink,” Valerie said. She cocked her right hip, leaned against the bar, and crossed one cowboy boot over the other.

  “Drop what?” Brenna asked.

  Valerie rubbed her temples with her index fingers. “Gee, I am having such a hard time remembering now.”

  Nate stepped forward and slapped a fifty on the bar. “Memory coming back?”

  “It’s a miracle,” Valerie said with a small smile. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I can’t say for sure, but I’d be willing to bet it was GHB, or you might know it by its street name—Bedtime Scoop.”

  “He drugged me?” Tara asked, looking wild-eyed.

  “Now you’re catching on,” Valerie said. “I was sitting right over there and I saw you talk to some other blonde in red while he ordered a new drink for you, a cranberry and vodka, I believe. While you were chatting with the girlfriend, I saw him slip something into the drink.”

  “And you didn’t say anything?” Tara asked.

  “I’m saying something now,” Valerie said as she tucked Nate’s money into her bra. She turned to Jake, and said, “You may want to be choosier about your friends in the future. Clue Parker was a bad boy.”

  “Don’t tell me you dated him, too,” Jake said.

  “I don’t play on his team,” she said. She winked and tossed her black hair over her shoulder. She sauntered away, leaving them all staring after her.

  “Wow,” Matt said. Tenley popped him with an elbow to the middle. He grunted and hugged her close.

  “That’s okay,” she said grudgingly. “I think ‘wow’ covers it pretty well.”

  “How do we know she’s telling the truth?” Jake asked. “She could have just been making all of that up because she recognized Tara from the newspaper.”

  “She’s not,” Tara said. “Clue did buy me a cranberry and vodka, because I wasn’t drinking the Pabst. It’s the last thing I remember.”

  Chapter 16

  The six of them left the bar. No one spoke until they were outside.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Jake said. He began to pace back and forth. The bouncer frowned, as he was blocking the foot traffic in and out of the bar. Jake raised a hand in understanding and moved to the corner of the dirt lot. “Why would Clue do this? Why?”

  “Actually, I think I may know,” Brenna said. They all turned to look at her. They were standing in an oblong circle. She noticed that Tara moved closer to Jake and he to her as if to bolster each other from more bad news.

  “Please help me to understand,” Jake said. He looked desperate.

  “That call I just got was my friend Dom Cappicola,” she said. “He owns the paper mill where Clue worked. I asked him to let me know if he found out anything of interest about Clue.”

  “And?” Tenley prodded her.

  “Well, it could be coincidence,” Brenna said. “But Clue was bragging quite a bit about buying a new Harley.”

  Jake frowned. “He never said anything to me about that, and I always check his machines out for him. Plus, a new Harley costs fifteen thousand, easy, and there is no way he had that kind of money.”

  “He told everyone he’d taken on an odd job to pay for it,” Brenna said.

  “I can’t believe that. He never said anything to me and I’m his best friend,” Jake argued. “None of this makes sense.”

  “Unless the odd job was Tara,” Brenna said.

  Silence pulsed among the group as they collectively processed this information.

  “You mean someone paid him to drug me and make it look as if we’d slept together?” Tara asked. “But that’s sick. Who would do something like that?”

  There was another beat of silence and Jake said, “Someone who doesn’t want us to get married.”

  “But who—” Tara began, but Jake interrupted. “Your parents.”

  “No!” Tara protested. “I don’t believe it.”

  Tenley stepped forward. “Tara, your parents are a lot like my parents; they have very high expectations for you. Don’t you think it’s possible?”

  “No,” she said. “It isn’t.”

  “Oh, come on, Tara!” Jake threw his hands up in the air. “Your parents have been against this wedding from day one. Of course it’s them.”

  Tara looked at him. Perfectly calm and serene, she held out her hands to him. Grudgingly, he took them.

  “There is one thing I know,” she said. “My parents would never do anything that would put me in harm’s way. Ever. Do you really think they would pay someone to drug me and crawl into bed with me, especially someone like Clue, knowing how dangerous he could be?”

  Jake took a deep breath through his nose and let it out. His shoulders dropped, and he looked at her and nodded.

  “You’re right,” he said. “But if not them, then who?”

  “There is the possibility that Clue wasn’t being paid to ruin the wedding,” Nate said. He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand and his gray eyes met Brenna’s. “I never met him, but he seems the type who might always have a sort of get-rich-quick scheme happening.”

  “That was him,” Jake conceded.

  “Then do you
suppose his odd job was actually his own plan to set up Tara by drugging her and making it look as if they’d gone to bed together so he could then blackmail her, say, to the tune of a new Harley Fat Boy?”

  “I don’t want to believe it,” Jake said. “But from everything I’m hearing I don’t see how I can’t.”

  “It’s just a possibility,” Nate said.

  “A good possibility,” Brenna added.

  He smiled at her, and Brenna was warmed from the inside out. Nate Williams was just too handsome for her own good.

  “So, you didn’t, uh, spend the night with him?” Jake asked.

  “No, I tried to tell you that the detectives gave me a full examination, if you know what I mean?” Tara asked and Jake gave her a quick nod. “And there was no evidence of any, uh, action down there.”

  Both Matt and Nate snapped their heads away from the scene before them as if not wanting to hear any of it.

  Tenley exchanged a glance with Brenna, who rolled her eyes. Men!

  “Really?” Jake asked. The relief in his voice was palpable. He spun to look at the group. “Brenna, would you mind if Tara rides back into town with me?”

  “No, not at all,” she said. “I’ll take everyone else in my car so you two can talk. Why don’t I pick her up at the garage? It might not be a good idea for you two to be seen together.”

  “Why not?” Tara asked.

  “Because we still don’t know who the murderer is or why they went after Clue,” Brenna said.

  “She’s right,” Nate agreed. “Until we know what set the killer off, we should all maintain a low profile.”

  “I’ll pull around in back of the garage,” Jake said. “Meet us there.”

  “Will do,” Brenna agreed.

  Tara beamed at her, and Brenna hoped the conversation went well for her, for them both.

  “Well, thanks for another memorable evening,” Matt said, once they reached town. “One thing is certain, it’s never dull with you two girls around.”

  “I miss dull,” Nate said dryly.

  Matt laughed.

  “I need to pick up Tara at the garage,” she said to Matt and Tenley, who were sharing the backseat. “Do you want me to drop you off at the shop?”

  “Thanks,” Tenley said. She glanced at Brenna’s reflection in the rearview mirror. A look of understanding passed between them. Brenna was dropping them off to give Tenley time alone with Matt. And if Brenna was forced to be alone with Nate, well, these things happened.

  She pulled into a spot in front of Vintage Papers. Tenley and Matt climbed out, and Brenna lowered her window to let in the sweet night air and, well, to eavesdrop.

  “Can I walk you to your car?” Matt asked as they stepped onto the curb.

  “Thank you,” Tenley said. “I’m in back of the shop. Good night, Brenna, Nate.”

  “The ants go marching two by two,” Brenna chanted and Nate finished with “Hurrah, hurrah.”

  She laughed, and he said, “I’ll come with you to the garage. It’s a little late for a woman to be out alone.”

  “Jake will be there,” she said.

  “True,” he said. “But I’m coming anyway.”

  “Suit yourself,” Brenna said, hoping she sounded more nonchalant than she felt.

  They parked in front of Haywood Auto, which was closed for the night. The two bay doors were shut, so Brenna and Nate walked around the side of the building to use the smaller walk-in door. It opened when Brenna turned the knob and pulled.

  “Hello?” she called. “Jake? Tara?”

  A light was on in the back and Brenna made to go toward it, but Nate caught her by the elbow and held her back.

  “I’ll go first,” he said. “It’s dark. You don’t want to skewer yourself on some equipment you can’t see.”

  They picked their way around hanging hoses and tool carts until they reached the office.

  Nate rapped on the door and Jake quickly opened it and ushered them into the small room.

  “Sorry,” he said. “We were waiting out front but Tara got spooked.”

  “It’s been such a strange night,” she said. She was sitting in a chair beside the desk. “I want to thank you, Brenna; if it hadn’t been for you and Nate, that girl at the bar never would have told me what happened.”

  “I still can’t believe Clue did that to you,” Jake said.

  “Do you suppose it was revenge?” Brenna asked.

  “What?” Jake turned to look at her.

  “I went to see Mrs. Sutton, Jake,” she said. “I thought maybe she’d know something about Clue from Lisa. She told me that you and Lisa were planning to leave Morse Point together.”

  “We were,” Jake admitted. “Until she left without me.”

  Tara took his hand in hers and entwined her fingers with his. She was trying to comfort him, which told Brenna that Jake had already told Tara all about Lisa, which was a good thing.

  “Do you think Clue drugged Tara to make it look as if they’d spent the night together to get back at you for taking Lisa from him?”

  Jake ran his free hand through his hair. “It’s possible, but Lisa had broken up with Clue by the time she and I started seeing each other. Clue said he was okay with it.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  “I wanted to,” Jake said. His glance was rueful.

  “Have you had any contact with Lisa since she left?” Nate asked. “Could she have come back and found out you were with Tara and gotten Clue to help her break you two up?”

  “Nah,” Jake shook his head. “Lisa is a free spirit. She’d never hurt anyone to get what she wanted.” He let go of Tara’s hand and opened a locker in the corner.

  On the top shelf, he pulled out a small cardboard jewelry box. When he opened it, Brenna gasped. It was the angel she’d seen in the picture on Mrs. Sutton’s hutch.

  “She left me this in an envelope with my name on it,” he said. “No note, no other explanation, she was just gone.”

  “Free spirit, indeed,” Nate said.

  Jake looked at Tara. “I think maybe it’s time I give this to Lisa’s mom. She can get it back to Lisa.”

  “That sounds good,” Brenna said and noticed Tara’s smile got brighter. “If you two want to say good night, I’ll wait for you outside, Tara.”

  Brenna and Nate stood outside, looking at the town now in the midst of its nightly slumber. Crickets chirped, a warm breeze gusted across the town green, and the glow of the old-fashioned street lanterns that lined the side-walks lent the illusion of safety to the quiet community.

  But it wasn’t safe. There was a murderer out there, and Morse Point wouldn’t be safe until Clue’s killer was caught. A shiver caught Brenna by the back of the neck and she shuddered.

  Nate gave her a swift glance and then pulled her close so that her side was pressed against the length of his. Neither of them spoke.

  When Tara joined them, looking delightedly flushed, they silently walked her back to the inn where she was staying with her parents. Nate then escorted Brenna back to the Jeep before going to retrieve his own car.

  “Well, I guess I’ll catch the game highlights on ESPN. The Yanks were playing the Phillies tonight,” he said.

  “Yeah, it’s interleague play. They always do that in June. It goes against my baseball purist leanings. It’s a travel day for the Sox,” she said.

  “Yeah, so I have nothing to laugh about,” he said.

  “And I’ve been spared your trash-talking. How nice,” she said. “I guess I’ll just go home and dig into the brownie pie I made last night while I watch to see how badly your boys got trounced.”

  “Brownie pie?” Nate asked. “The one you make with the crushed pecan crust?”

  “With fudge sauce on top,” she clarified. “Yep, that’s the one.”

  “If I swear not to trash-talk the Sox for a whole day, will you share?”

  “Make it a week,” she said.

  He looked stricken.

  “I think I eve
n have heavy whipped cream to go on it,” she said.

  “Three days,” he said. “That’s the best I can do.”

  “Five days and a maraschino cherry,” she haggled.

  “Man, you fight dirty,” he said. “Four days. That’s my final offer.”

  Brenna took his outstretched hand and pumped it three times. “I’ll bring the fixings to your place. Your TV is bigger.”

  Nate opened her door for her and Brenna climbed into the Jeep. He shut the door, and she rolled down the window.

  “Hank will be thrilled to see you,” he said.

  “And me him,” she agreed.

  “Hey, is that why you’re coming over, to see Hank?” He sounded a teeny bit miffed.

  “Among other things,” she said. She smiled and turned the key. Nate stepped back and she drove away with a wave. It felt good to keep him guessing.

  Brenna stayed late at Nate’s. They talked a little baseball and Hank got plenty of love, but mostly, they talked about Clue Parker and debated who his murderer could be.

  Two slices of brownie pie each and still they had no answers. Brenna had the nagging feeling she was missing something, or overlooking something, but what? It was maddening.

  “One more coat of polyurethane and this trunk will be ready for Betty Cartwright,” Brenna said. She ran her hand over the recently dried varnish, checking its smoothness.

  “We have to take pictures for the Web site,” Tenley said. “This is one of your finest pieces.”

  “One of our finest pieces,” Brenna corrected her. “We did it together.”

  They admired their handiwork for a moment. It was a quiet morning in the shop. Mrs. Delsum had picked up the birth announcements for her first grandson, and Mrs. Carter had ordered her daughter’s engagement announcements. Other than that, the traffic had been minimal.

  With a crash of bells, the front door was flung open and in came Ella and Marie Porter. They were trying to elbow each other out of the way as they charged into the shop.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Can you believe it?”

  “Who would have thought?”

  “His best friend!”

  Tenley put up her hands to slow them down, but it was like trying to slow the running of the bulls in Pamplona. Brenna wasn’t sure if she should hop up on the nearest table or look for a red cape to make them charge by her.