Scone Cold Killer

by Lena Gregory

  “Bradley.”

  Silence.

  “I’ve always wondered why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I just didn’t like him, and I didn’t think he was good for you. You deserved better.”

  “Well, I guess it turned out you were right. He was definitely not good for me.”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t matter now anyway.”

  Gia wasn’t ready to let it go, though. Savannah had told her years ago, before she’d moved in with Bradley, that he wasn’t right for her. Gia could tell she didn’t like him, but she refused to say why. She hadn’t even attended the wedding, had said she couldn’t leave her father at the time to go to New York. Gia had been disappointed, but she’d understood. That was Savannah’s way, always putting someone else first. “It matters to me. You are my best friend, and you wouldn’t have any involvement with Bradley.”

  “I grew up around boys. Tough boys. I know trouble when I see it, and that man was nothing but trouble.”

  “But how could you be so sure?”

  She sighed. “Are you sure you want to know, Gia? I mean really sure? Because I tried to tell you once before, and you refused to hear it.”

  She bristled. “What are you talking about?”

  “I didn’t meet Bradley until you two were getting ready to move in together, which right there, should have been a red flag for you. Every time you wanted to do something with your friends, something came up, and Bradley couldn’t make it.”

  “He was a busy man, didn’t have a lot of free time.” The excuse sounded lame after all this time, after learning the truth about her ex.

  “Yeah, well, he had plenty of time for other women.”

  The comment stung.

  “He was fooling around with one of the other dancers. I saw them together one night. It was after a show, one of the nights I knew he’d canceled out on you because he supposedly had to work. I confronted him.” She sobbed softly, then sniffed. “I told him I was going to tell you, and instead of looking ashamed, he laughed at me. Called me naïve. He said if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. Said you’d hate me.”

  Savannah had known he’d been cheating on her and hadn’t told her? How could that be true? It couldn’t be. She couldn’t accept that. “How could you think I’d hate you?”

  “Because he said he’d make sure of it. That he would twist it and tell you I was lying, that I was jealous that you were moving in with him. And leaving me. The other woman, a woman I thought was my friend, took his side. She knew about you, but she didn’t care. She was content with the arrangement they had. Didn’t really care if you were in the picture. She loved the things Bradley bought her, the lifestyle he afforded her, with none of the commitment.

  “She said she’d tell you I was lying.” Savannah sobbed again, a deep, heart-wrenching sound. “She was supposed to be my friend. I liked that woman. I’d always prided myself on being a good judge of character.”

  “Savannah—”

  “No. I waited too long to tell you all of it. If I don’t finish it now, I may never.”

  Gia waited silently while she gathered her thoughts. Her head spun. Savannah had betrayed her. She knew what Bradley was doing and hadn’t told her. Had the situations been reversed, would she have done the same? No. Savannah wasn’t a weak woman. Nor was she naïve or gullible. She was strong and decisive. No way she’d have let Bradley’s threats sway her convictions, even if his mistress did go along with him.

  “I tried to talk to you. I tried to tell you he wasn’t what you thought. Do you remember?”

  After Gia had learned the truth of what Bradley was, she’d tried to block their years together from her mind. It was too painful to remember the man she’d thought he was.

  “And then, even after he was arrested, you still stood by him. It was only after there was absolutely no denying the evidence of his guilt, after he drew you into his trouble, that you even started to come around.”

  She couldn’t manage more than a harsh whisper. “You’re right, Savannah.”

  The memories crashed through her. Sitting on the couch with Savannah while she tried to tell her Bradley wasn’t the man she thought he was. She stopped short of telling her the full truth, that she knew for a fact he was cheating on her, but she had tried to warn her about him. And Gia hadn’t listened. She’d blown it off. Most likely, if she had told her the whole truth, it would have made no difference. She’d have made excuses for him, listened to the lies he told her, because she wanted so desperately to believe him. She’d hidden her head in the sand for years, because she loved him, and she wanted to believe he was the man she thought he was, the man he pretended to be. No, Savannah wasn’t weak and gullible, but Gia had been. Maybe she still was.

  “After that, I left and came back home. I was getting ready to leave anyway. My career as a dancer didn’t take off the way I’d hoped. But that incident proved to me it never would, because I lacked that cutthroat mentality that launched people to the top. I wasn’t that person. I was never going to be that person, and I didn’t want to become that person. I’m sorry, Gia. I should have told you the truth.”

  “No. I’m sorry. I do remember. I remember us sitting on the couch together, like we had so many times. Only that time, you didn’t sit on your side and stretch the blanket between us. You moved the blanket away and sat beside me, facing me. I should have realized then you had something important to talk about. I just… I didn’t want to know, I guess.” Gia dug through her bag for a tissue.

  “When you called me and told me that you finally realized what he was, I was so relieved.”

  “Is that why you helped me so much? Is that why you did so much work on the café, found the house, met the movers? All of it, Savannah. Did you do it because you felt guilty?”

  Savannah laughed through her tears. “No, silly. I did it because I’m your friend. I stood by you while you were married to him, because I love you. And sometimes people make mistakes. But a true friend gives you the space to make those mistakes, stands by you while you navigate your way through them, and then helps you pick up the pieces when they blow up in your face.”

  Gia wiped her tears and laughed too. “You truly are the best friend I’ve ever had. And I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

  “I know, and it’s okay. And now that I’m forgiven, don’t forget that, okay?”

  “Forget what?”

  “That I’m your best friend, and I love you, and you love me, and I would do anything to protect you, and I—”

  A knock on Gia’s window interrupted Savannah’s rambling. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know she’d find Hunt standing there. “What did you do?”

  “And I am not the least bit sorry I did what any good friend would do. I let you make your own mistakes and learn from them when the time was right, and I called Hunt to come see what was going on at your house when you were being just plain stupid.” Savannah’s soft laughter came over the line just before she disconnected.

  Gia rolled down the window. “Hey.”

  “Hey. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just thought I’d hang around on the side of the road for a while and chat with Savannah.”

  Hunt pursed his lips. “Did you plan on calling me?”

  “Uh… no, not really.”

  He studied her a moment longer, then shook his head. “Do you have any idea who would be at the house?”

  “No.”

  “Lock your doors and wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  She started to roll up the window, but he stopped her. “Make sure it’s me before you open the window or door.”

  She nodded, rolled up the window, and checked the locks were still engaged even though she hadn’t opened them. The concern etched in his hard features brought a wave of paranoia. She watched him cross the street, climb int
o his jeep, and pull out, leaving her alone, surrounded by the darkness of the vast forest.

  She stared at the digital clock on her dashboard, wishing it had a second display so it would at least be moving.

  Something howled in the distance. Did skunk apes howl?

  Thor scrambled between the seats and tried to squirm into her lap.

  She pushed the seat back to give him room and hugged him close.

  Still, the clock didn’t move.

  Twenty minutes crawled by before the first police car flew past, lights flashing, though no sirens broke the silence. A second cruiser followed closely behind.

  Chapter 19

  Gia sat chewing her thumbnail.

  Thor had been whimpering for the past few minutes. If she didn’t get him out soon, he was going to make a mess in her car.

  The last vehicle to pass her had been a police van a little while ago. She debated, as she had since the first cruiser had passed twenty minutes ago, whether or not to go to the house, go back to the café, or wait where she was until Hunt returned. Intense curiosity wouldn’t allow her to leave, at least not until she knew what was going on. And yet, some part of her really didn’t want to know, wanted instead to pretend all was right with the world, at least her small part of it.

  As if not knowing would change whatever tragedy had obviously occurred. Shame on her if she hadn’t learned her lesson about ignoring reality, especially when it was staring her in the face.

  She clipped Thor’s leash onto his collar and looked around before unlocking the doors. “Be quick.”

  He squirmed in acknowledgment—or maybe because he couldn’t hold it any longer.

  She opened the door and jumped out of the car, swiveling her head wildly trying to watch every direction at once.

  Thor rocketed out of the car and squatted beside the front tire.

  Careful to avoid the puddle he left, she coaxed him back into the car, slid in after him, closed and locked the doors, and finally took a breath. Enough was enough. She couldn’t sit there all night waiting for Hunt to come back and give her permission to leave. Yeah, right. Like that was happening. In his dreams, maybe.

  Besides, what if something had happened to Hunt? What if the other police cars had responded to his call for help? She shifted into gear and pulled away from the shoulder. She put her foot down a little heavier on the accelerator. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to him because of her.

  When she turned onto her block, light assailed her. She squinted and gave her eyes a couple of seconds to adjust. Her yard was lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. At least it seemed that way in contrast to the surrounding darkness.

  Police cars blocked her driveway, so she pulled to the side of the road and parked on the soft shoulder in front of a patch of woods beside her house, then cracked the windows before she eased the door open enough to slide out without letting Thor escape. “Wait here, Thor.”

  As much as she didn’t love the idea of leaving him alone in the car, she couldn’t take him with her until she knew what was going on. She slammed the door, locked it, and walked toward the driveway. Radio chatter filled the night, though she couldn’t make any of it out.

  She approached an officer who stood beside his patrol car and waited for him to get off the phone. “Excuse me.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Gia Morelli. I live here. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

  His phone rang again. “I’m sorry. Just one minute.”

  He stepped away from her and pitched his voice low but kept a close eye on her.

  She resisted the urge to squirm beneath his stare. Barely.

  When he hung up, he yelled, “Detective Quinn will be right here.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded and turned away, leaving her standing alone on the edge of the driveway to contemplate the mess her life had become. And to wonder what on earth had half the Boggy Creek Police Department crawling all over her yard.

  Only a few neighbors shared her block, but already a small crowd had gathered by the corner. Apparently, even in the middle of the forest, gossip traveled fast. Pictures of her standing in front of her house looking confused, surrounded by police vehicles, were probably already trending on the Boggy Creek Community pages.

  She lowered her face into her hands. What a mess.

  “You okay?” Hunt’s firm hand on her shoulder grounded her.

  “Yeah. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I can, but you’re not going to like it. Do you want to go inside and sit down?”

  Yes. She wanted desperately to go inside, to get out of the fishbowl, to sit down. To live a normal, quiet, boring life. “Just tell me.”

  “We found Remington’s attorney.”

  “Horace Rabinowitz?”

  “No. the other one. Don Reynolds.”

  “Did he say why he wanted to talk to me? Or what Bradley left me. Or why he left me anything at all?”

  “No. He didn’t say anything.”

  “So what does that have to do with all of this?” She waved her arm to encompass the police presence. Her heart stuttered. “Please tell me he didn’t try to say I had any involvement in Bradley’s schemes.”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “We found Mr. Reynolds’ body in the backyard.”

  “Wha—” Everything started to swim in and out of focus. The flashing lights made the entire scene surreal. Nausea threatened, and she bent over and put her hands on her knees, willing the bile back down, burning her throat. She couldn’t throw up on the street with Hunt and all her neighbors watching, but chances were good it was going to happen.

  “Gia, are you all right?” Hunt rubbed circles on her back, the heat from his hand burning through her shirt.

  “I need…” She started to shake her head, then stopped when a new wave of nausea hit. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She hadn’t even known Don Reynolds, had never even heard the name before Hunt had told her about the inheritance, and yet knowing he was dead in her yard burned a hole in her gut. “How? Why?”

  Hunt didn’t answer. Instead, he held up a clear plastic bag. “Do you know what this is?”

  Her head throbbed, and she narrowed her eyes against the bright lights. “A flash drive?”

  “Is it yours?”

  “No. I use an external hard drive to back up my files. I don’t use flash drives at all.”

  “What about Bradley? Did he use flash drives?”

  She tried to remember if she’d ever seen a flash drive lying around Bradley’s home office. “I don’t know. Bradley always kept his desk locked. I never saw him use one, but I can’t say for sure.”

  Unfortunately, how he backed up his data was the least of the secrets Bradley had kept.

  “So, this doesn’t look familiar to you at all?”

  “I said no,” she snapped.

  Her curt answer did nothing to deter him.

  “What about this?” He held up another evidence bag. That one contained a manila envelope with her name scrawled across the front.

  “No.”

  “Can you tell if it’s your ex-husband’s handwriting?”

  She leaned closer. The sloppy block print slanted downward across the front of the envelope looked nothing like Bradley’s precise cursive penmanship. “No. Bradley was meticulous about everything he did. He used to use a ruler to address his letters perfectly.”

  “All right.” Hunt ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “I’m going to be here for a while, so why don’t you call Savannah to come pick you up.”

  “Wait. What was in the envelope?”

  “Nothing. He was clutching the empty envelope in his hand.”

  “Where was the flash drive?”

 
“Tucked into his sock.” He ran a hand through his hair. If the way it stuck up around his head was any indication, it wasn’t the first time. “Look, Gia. I still have a lot to do. I’m waiting for the ME, I have people talking to your neighbors, and I have to track down where Reynolds was staying and try to figure out what he was doing here. I assume he came to talk to you, but I can’t be sure. Now, please, call Savannah and stay with her until I get there. I have to question you, but I have to take care of a few other things first.”

  Question me? He made that sound an awful lot like he suspected her of something. Of course, it could just be leftover paranoia. “Can’t I just go inside?” She wasn’t even sure she wanted to, unless it was to get the makings of a “for sale” sign, but he had no right to tell her she couldn’t go into her own home.

  “Not yet. Maybe later on tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Did anyone break into the house?”

  “Not that we can tell, but I have men searching it anyway.”

  “You have men searching my house? For what?”

  “A man is dead in your backyard, a man I spoke with two days ago who said he had to contact you about an inheritance you supposedly know nothing about. An inheritance, I might add, that came from the last man that was found dead in the dumpster behind your café.”

  She bristled at his use of supposedly with the exact same inflection the detectives in New York had used when they’d come to question her after they first arrested Bradley. Even after she’d cooperated and allowed them to search every inch of their apartment. “So what does that have to do with you and your men invading my privacy?”

  His jaw clenched. “Really? Is that how you want to do this?”

  “I don’t know, Detective.” She worked hard to make detective sound like jackass. If his clenched jaw working back and forth was any indication, she’d succeeded. “I guess that depends on just what you’re looking for.”

  “I’m looking for anything to indicate you might be in danger. Does that work for you, Ms. Morelli?”

  “Why would I be in danger?” Okay, stupid question, and she knew it the minute it flew off her tongue, but she couldn’t take it back, and she wasn’t about to admit it. She folded her arms across her chest and stood her ground.