by Rosie Sams
Snorting at the sight of the unaffected Byron, Melody didn’t bother to stop when Kerry and Leslie gave her inquiring glances. She merely shrugged, not wanting to discuss any further what happened with Sam, and kept walking. She intended to collect Smudge and head home.
After thanking Eli Kritchner for the use of his office, she and Smudge hurried to the parking lot. Melody was confident that her assistants could manage for the remainder of the night. Just as she reached her car and placed her hand on the door handle, footsteps echoed behind her.
“Melody, wait.”
Gritting her teeth, she forced on a mask of courtesy and managed a smile as Byron approached.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, coming to a stop and shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Well, my assistants have things covered so…”
He rocked back on his heels. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did tonight, providing the desserts. I have to say, the town folks were spot on. You are indeed a genius in the kitchen. Everything was delicious.”
“Thank you, Byron. I was happy to do it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Melody didn’t want to prolong their conversation. She was still upset over what happened with Sam. Sam was her friend, so of course, she would support his claim until he was proven wrong. Plus, she had a gut feeling Byron had passed off Sam’s work as his own. She had warned Sam about trusting the famous artist, after all.
“Melody, I hope you don’t think what that insane man was spouting earlier is true,” he said in a rush. “I’d hate to think that the people of Port Warren think me a fraud.”
“I doubt you have to worry about that. I overheard you getting so many compliments. It’s as if nothing happened.”
Byron’s lips twisted. “What about you, Melody? Do you think I stole someone’s work?”
Absolutely. “I’m in no place to have an opinion without the full story, Mr. Elmsford,” she replied, trying to remain diplomatic. She decided to slip in a sly comment to gauge his response. “I suppose those compliments are well earned. I mean, you captured so many of the local landmarks so perfectly and in just a few days. You really are an artistic genius.”
If Melody wasn’t looking at Byron as closely as she was, she would have missed the telltale nervous twitch of his right eye. “What can I say? That’s why I’m the best,” he drawled.
“Right. That’s what puzzles me. You’re the best, yet, you leave Manhattan to come to this small town to put on a show. I assume you’d get more buzz in a bigger city.”
Byron’s brows dipped, and his nostrils flared. Obviously, Melody had struck a nerve. Taking a step closer to her, he asked, “Are you by any chance accusing me of something, Melody?”
Guilty conscience, Byron? “Why ever would you think that?”
Byron’s posture must have alerted Smudge because the pup let out a threatening growl.
Instantly, Byron stepped back. Glancing down at Smudge, he chuckled and bent to pet her. Smudge’s responding snarl had him pulling his hand away. Straightening, Byron continued his slow retreat, sending Smudge an annoyed glare. “It seems you don’t think much of your hometown, Melody. Port Warren is full of potential, and that’s why I’m here.”
“Of course.” With narrowed eyes, she gave him a long look before announcing, “I’ll be on my way. I guess I’ll see you around before you return to Manhattan.” Melody slid into her car, and Smudge hopped in and curled up on the other seat. Melody clipped her into her harness.
“Good girl, Smudge. There’s definitely something suspicious about that artist.”
Chapter Six
Melody groaned and rolled over in bed as the incessant ringing breached her slumbering bliss. Her alarm continued to shriek, and she blindly reached over to silence it. It was quiet once again, and she burrowed under the sheets for a few more minutes. Smudge, however, had different ideas.
The dog came barreling through the door, sliding on the hardwood but righting herself to hop onto the bed. Clamping her mouth around the covers, she tugged until Melody moaned, “Smudge, stop it.”
The pup hopped up and down excitedly, her head turning to the window and then back at Melody.
“Sheesh, Smudge, you only act like this when you see Al.”
The sound of Alvin’s name brought on louder barking. Melody rolled out of bed to peep through the window. Alvin’s police cruiser was indeed coming to a stop in her driveway. It was incredible that Smudge had singled out the sound of the cruiser from a distance.
“Oh, my God. Alvin is here. Thanks for the heads up, Smudge,” she shouted, dashing to the bathroom.
By the time Alvin made the walk from the end of the driveway to her porch, Melody had herself in some semblance of order. She was still horrified when he rang her doorbell, and she was still wearing her pajamas. The bell sounded, one ring after the other, and Melody became concerned that Alvin’s visit wasn’t just a social one.
Throwing her hands up, she marched to the front door. She supposed she wouldn’t die of embarrassment if Alvin saw her in her pajamas... besides, she had hoped he would in the near future, anyway.
Wearing a smile, she flung the door open. “Alvin.”
Alvin paused and assessed her appearance, making her cheeks flush before he responded. “Good morning, Mel.”
Tugging self-consciously at her tank top and then her shorts, she returned, “Good morning, Al.”
“I’m sorry for bothering you this early.”
“No problem.” She stepped aside. “Come on in.”
Alvin stepped inside and leaned in for a quick kiss that set Melody’s face aflame. Smudge wasn’t to be left out and came dashing toward the couple to greet Alvin. “Good morning to you too, girl.” Alvin ruffled her ears, and she whined with satisfaction.
“I’ll never get over how much that dog loves you.” Melody laughed.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Melody cleared her throat and shyly tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear, she grinned. “So, how are you?”
“Better now.” He smiled. “You look radiant, by the way.”
She clamped her mouth shut when a girly giggle erupted. Great, now I sound like Kerry and Leslie. “Considering I just rolled out of bed, I think you’re being too kind.”
“Oh, you just got out of bed?”
Alvin seemed uneasy. His expression reflected how Melody felt. They’d been dating for a while, but they hadn’t yet been intimate.
He cleared his throat lightly. “It really is early, isn’t it? I feel horrible now.”
“Don’t. I can tell something is wrong. Let me put on a pot of coffee, and you can tell me what the problem is.”
When they were settled at the table with mugs of coffee and a tray of Danish pastries she’d grabbed from the refrigerator, Alvin took a few sips and scoffed down an entire Danish before he spoke. “Thanks for this. I haven’t had breakfast yet. I had to jump into work so early.”
“Has something happened?” Melody asked, sipping from her own mug.
Alvin sat back and released a long sigh. “Something has happened, all right. There’s been another murder.”
Melody froze with her mug halfway to her mouth. Her eyes were glued to Alvin across the table. “A murder? Good heavens. Who?” Her heart stuttered in her chest, she was almost afraid to find out the identity of the victim.
“I thought I’d come by and tell you personally since you know... it’s our thing.” His lips twisted wryly. “And it involves your friend, Sam.”
“Sam?” she gasped.
“Oh, no.” Alvin shook his head. “Sam wasn’t murdered. The victim is Byron Elmsford.”
Another gasp echoed in the kitchen. “Byron? Oh, my.” Melody sat speechless for a while. She’d just spoken to the man, a few hours before. Hand over her heart, Melody experienced a twinge of grief despite her suspicion that Byron was a shady character. After all, no one deserved to be murdered.
“Eli Kritchner reported the murder this morning. I’d ba
rely stepped into the station when he ran in carrying on about a murder. He found Byron’s body smack dab in the middle of his gallery when he opened.”
“Oh, Alvin, not again. I was right, there really is too much excitement in Port Warren these days. The murder of a high profile celebrity is going to cause a huge ruckus. Are there any suspects?”
Alvin’s expression darkened even more. “Yes. Did I mention that Sam was involved?”
Melody swallowed, pushing her coffee aside. She knew what was coming, but she didn’t want to hear or believe it. There was no way Sam could have killed anyone. Not her sweet, friendly Sam who dropped by her shop to say howdy every day. “H... he’s a suspect?”
“Unfortunately, Sam was found passed out at the back of the gallery when we went to check out Eli’s claim. Sam did have an altercation with Byron the night before. It doesn’t look good for him, Mel. He’s the prime suspect.”
“Oh no,” she moaned. It seemed too much, and she was heartbroken, both because of Byron’s death and her friend’s title as the number one suspect. “I assume Sam has already been taken into custody.”
Alvin nodded sadly. “He swears he didn’t kill Bryon but, I hate to admit it, but perhaps he did it. He was so enraged last night. I’d never seen him like that before.”
“He was drunk,” Melody reasoned.
“That doesn’t help his case.”
Melody fell silent. She had nothing else to say.
“Now I wish I had done more than left Vanessa with Sam last night. Maybe I could have done something to stop a murder.” Alvin dropped his head.
Reaching across the table, Melody placed her hand over his. “Al, don’t go blaming yourself. You couldn’t have known Sam would leave home after you took him there. You most certainly couldn’t have known that he would…” She trailed off, finding it difficult to finish. It was simply difficult to wrap her head around Sam being guilty. “How’s Vanessa doing?”
Alvin shrugged. “I haven’t seen her. Maybe she was still at Sam’s when we found him outside the gallery. There’s no telling if she even knows he’s been arrested.”
Scrubbing a hand over her face, Melody sighed. “Al, maybe I can talk to Sam. Who knows? A friendly face might get him to talk… hopefully, to clear his name.”
Alvin studied her hand that still rested on top of his. “Well, you’ve proven successful with getting through to suspects in the past. I don’t see why you can’t speak to him. We’ll have to try and keep your interaction with him quiet... somehow.”
“Great.”
Chapter Seven
Melody’s car turned into the precinct’s parking lot right behind Alvin’s cruiser. They walked through the front door together, and heads turned in their direction. Seeing that it was the sheriff and Melody, everyone returned to work, all except Jane, the secretary. She ducked under the counter and strolled up to the pair.
“Hey there, Melody.”
“Morning, Jane.”
Jane hiked a thumb over her shoulder. “Sheriff, you’ve got a visitor. She refused to speak with any other officer. She said it’s concerning the Byron Elmsford case.”
Melody and Alvin and even Smudge, who rested at Melody’s feet, followed Jane’s pointed finger. Melody gasped.
“Vanessa. Oh, my God.” Hurrying in Vanessa’s direction, Melody studied the woman's face with horror. Vanessa sported a few colorful bruises on her cheek and eyes. “Vanessa, what happened?”
The woman was seated on a chair in the far corner of the station. She stood up when she saw Melody approaching with the sheriff in tow. “Hi, Melody. Sheriff.” She shrugged. “I got in Sam’s way last night.”
Melody gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. She never would have thought Sam Barnett had a propensity for such violence. Yet, the proof was all over Vanessa’s face.”
“Vanessa,” Alvin said, gently taking her arm. “Come with me. You need to tell me everything.”
Melody and Smudge silently followed.
With a bit more privacy, Vanessa told the tale of how Sam’s rage intensified shortly after Alvin dropped them off. She’d tried to get him into bed before he hurt himself before she took a cab home, but Sam had lost it.
“He said he was going back to the gallery to make Byron answer for stealing his paintings,” she said sniffing. “I tried to stop him, but he pretty much mowed me over and left me with a few bruises, before he took off into the night. All I wanted was a fun night out, and everything just went so horribly wrong.” She wept into her hands as Melody patted her shoulder comfortingly.
Just then, Sam was being escorted from another room, in handcuffs, and he spotted Vanessa in Alvin’s office.
“Vanessa!” he called. “Vanessa, I didn’t do it, I swear. I’m not a killer. You have to believe me.” He struggled with the officer who escorted him. “Just give me a minute, please. Let me talk to her.”
“You’re going back to your cell,” the officer said sternly.
Spotting Melody, Sam slipped the officer’s hold and charged toward her. There was desperation in his eyes. “Melody! You believe me, don’t you? You know me.”
Smudge interpreted Sam barreling toward Melody as a threat, and jumped in front of her crouching low and growling menacingly.
“Down, girl,” Melody hissed, knowing Sam hadn’t intended on attacking her.
Alvin, however, also jumped into protective mode as well, and Melody gave up on trying to hear Sam out. Alvin stood in front of her and pointed to Sam. “You steer clear of her, Sam. I’m warning you.”
Sam calmed down, his shoulders slumping as he was dragged off. Melody watched sadly until he had disappeared.
“Alvin, I’m sure Sam didn’t mean any harm,” she said.
“I don’t care, Mel. The man has proven to be violent on more than one occasion. Just take a look at poor Vanessa. I wasn’t letting him get anywhere near you.”
Smudge yipped, and rubbed against Melody’s leg in agreement.
Alvin turned to Vanessa. “Vanessa, I assume you’ll be pressing charges against, Sam for assault?”
Vanessa froze, her eyes widening. Melody frowned when the woman’s eyes darted around the room as she wrung her hands together. It was strange that she didn’t readily agree to press charges against the man that left her face so bruised. But, she chalked the woman’s nervousness up to having feelings for Sam.
“I... I just need some time to think. I need some fresh air,” she pleaded.
“Fine, I’ll get an officer to escort you outside,” Alvin said.
Melody saw an opportunity to speak with Sam and jumped on it. Placing a hand on Alvin’s arm, she got his attention. “Why don’t you go with her, Alvin? And maybe you can take Smudge for a quick walk.”
Alvin eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”
Lowering her voice to whisper, she explained, “So I can speak with Sam.”
“Absolutely not,” Alvin hissed. “I know I agreed to it, but not after what just happened. Not after what I’ve seen he’s capable of.”
“Please, Al. He’ll give me something, you know he will. I’ll just slip around back and see what I can get. I’ll make it quick.”
Alvin let out a sigh of resignation. “So, you’re on the case once again, huh, detective?” His lips twitched. “Okay. Sam is behind bars, so you’ll be safe. Make it quick.”
As soon as Alvin disappeared with Vanessa and Smudge, Melody scurried to the back of the station. There were several holding cells, and Sam occupied one of them. When he spotted her, he jumped up from his cot. “Melody, you came.” Relief shone in his eyes. “I’m innocent, Melody. I swear.”
“Okay, okay.” She peered over her shoulder to see if any of the officers were passing by. She was not supposed to be speaking with their murder suspect, and she didn’t want anyone knowing about the privileges Alvin granted her. “Sam, things aren’t looking good for you. How could you do that to Vanessa?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Sam’s expression twiste
d with confusion.
“The bruises, Sam.”
He paled. “I… I don’t know what you mean. Is she hurt?”
“You just saw her.” Then Melody realized that he wouldn’t see her as she was behind Melody and Alvin. “Her face is covered in bruises.”
“No! Who did this to her?”
Perplexed, Melody tilted her head and hissed, “You! She said you flew into a rage, and when she tried to stop you from going after Byron you put those bruises on her face.”
“I would never,” Sam spat.
Sam seemed so genuinely insulted; she didn’t know what to believe. Massaging the bridge of her nose, Melody sighed. “Tell me everything that you remember from last night, Sam.”
Chapter Eight
Melody listened keenly as Sam went over the details of the night before. He claimed to have strolled to the waterfront instead of going straight to the gallery. He stayed there for a while, trying to rid himself of the weird fog that kept trying to cloud his mind. It confused him because he hadn’t drunk enough to be in such a state.
“For some reason, things are a bit fuzzy, but I do remember what happened. I only had one drink the entire night.”
He received a dubious look. “The way you behaved last night, you exhibited the actions of a drunk man, Sam. One who had had way too much to drink.”
“Come on, Melody. I own a liquor shop. I’m no lightweight. One glass of champagne doesn’t have much effect on me… if any. And no amount of alcohol could have caused me to lay a finger on Vanessa. I was giddy with schoolboy excitement when she wanted to be my date for the art show. I like her.”
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he then shook his head. There was a sadness about him that cut through to Melody. “I’m just as puzzled as you are about why I could barely walk straight,” he said. With big hands wrapped around the bars, he looked Melody in the eyes. “Look, even if I was plastered, it doesn’t change what I saw at the gallery when I finally made it there just before sunrise.”