The Naughty Box (9 books in 1 box set)

by Davis, SJ

  Her husband stood, and spread his arms. “That’s a hell of a way to say hello. Don’t I get a kiss, at least?”

  Lena didn’t reply. She crossed her arms and waited, foot tapping against the wide pine flooring, for him to explain.

  Alex dropped his arms with a frown. “I came to talk,” he said. “You won’t answer my messages or return my calls so I had no other choice but to come to you.”

  “You could have told me you were coming,” she said. “I would have met you in town.”

  “What’s wrong with meeting me here?” Alex eyed Odin pointedly. “If there’s anything going on that I should know about, don’t you think it’s better to air it out in the privacy of our own home?”

  Odin cleared his throat and reclined in his chair as she turned to face him. His expression, she noted, was unconcerned, even amused.

  “My home,” she said, turning back to Alex. “Your home is in Connecticut. How did you get the key to the gate?”

  “I followed your neighbor up the mountain. He let me in and offered to keep me company until you got back.”

  Odin crossed the room to stand behind her. His hands found her waist and settled there, as he drew her close. It was the second time that the two men had met and the second time she’d been caught in the middle of their jousting. Lena shrugged him off and stepped away. “Stop it,” she told him. “This conversation is between Alex and me. It doesn’t concern you.”

  “No?” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “As your partner, I think it does.”

  “So that’s the way it is, huh?” Alex said, looking from one to the other. “It’s you and him, now?”

  “Just what did you expect, Alex?” Lena snapped. “Did you think that I was sitting up here all alone, pining away for you? What’s the matter? Are you sick of Miss High and Mighty already?” She shook her head and placed her hand on Odin’s arm. “Yes,” she said. “That’s the way it is.”

  Beside her, Odin smiled. Across the room, Alex stood slowly, his features a mask of indifference.

  “Then I guess I came all the way here for nothing,” he said. He pulled on his jacket and shook his head. “I suppose it won’t do any good to tell you that I’m sorry.”

  Lena shook her head. “It’s too late for that.”

  “So the divorce thing is what you truly want?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re still wearing your rings,” he pointed out.

  “Not anymore,” she said, slipping off the gold wedding band and diamond-studded engagement ring. “They’re yours. Take them.”

  Alex shook his head.

  “Suit yourself,” she said, depositing them onto the kitchen table as she returned to Odin’s side.

  “All right, then.” Alex’s carefully masked expression slipped for a moment, then it was back. “I just thought I’d make sure.” Addressing Odin, he said, “Take good care of her. Treat her better than I did.”

  Odin’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She winced as his nails bit into her skin. “I intend to,” her lover said.

  “Bye boy.” Alex stooped and scratched Zephyr behind the ears. He walked to the door and turned the knob before turning to take a last look at Lena. “Goodbye, baby. I’ll be staying in town tonight if you change your mind about anything. The Greenville Inn. Room 11.”

  Lena’s eyes filled with tears. She shook her head and blinked them back, squeezing Odin’s hand. “Goodbye, Alex,” she said, simply.

  Standing at the window, she watched the man she’d loved for a decade walk away. When the Suburban disappeared from view, Odin took her in his arms. “You look exhausted,” he said.

  “How long was he here?”

  “About half an hour. I got back from town and he was right behind me so I let him in and waited with him until you got here. He’s quite an interesting man, your husband.”

  “Ex-husband,” she said. “And he’s not interesting, he’s a two-timing bastard.”

  Odin didn’t argue the point. He rubbed her neck and shoulders. “Where were you, anyway?” he asked.

  “I went into town to get a few things,” Lena said. “I would have had you pick them up, but I didn’t realize I needed them until you were gone.”

  “Greenville?”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  He released her and stepped onto the porch, gazing at the driveway. “Do you think he’ll come back tonight?”

  “Who? Alex?” Lena shook her head. “Now that he knows we’re together, he’s gone for good.”

  “Maybe you’d like to come to my place, just in case.”

  She smiled and took his hand. “Thanks. Give me a couple of hours to get my chores done. I’ll be over in a little while.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” He kissed her goodbye, fingering the medallion around her neck. Lena shivered. She stepped away.

  “I love you, Selene,” he said.

  “I love you, too.”

  From her window, she watched him slip into his kayak. Could she have been mistaken about it all? Odin was so gentle with her, so tender…it was almost impossible to believe that he could be the bad guy. She paced the living room, straightened the cushions on the couch, put away her groceries and hung up her sweater. On the floor next to the coat hooks she found Alex’s wallet.

  “Shit,” she muttered.

  Odin had called it right; Alex intended to come back. Shrugging on her jacket, she ran through the rain to her Jeep. He was staying in Greenville, at the Inn. The drive into town was a pain in the ass, but it would save another scene between the three of them later on. At the bottom of the ridge, her phone beeped in two messages, both from the Greenville Police Department requesting yet another interview. “This day just keeps getting better,” she muttered, punching in the number.

  “Greenville Police Department, how may I direct your call?” It was the now-familiar voice of Middle Marks, aka Gracie, the dispatcher.

  “Hi,” she said, “this is Lena Walker from up on Breakneck Ridge. Could you please tell Detective Spaulding that I got his message and I’m on my way into town right now?”

  She listened as Gracie shouted her message across the room. Great. Everyone in Greenville now knew that she was on her way to speak with the police.

  Gracie returned to the phone. “When can you be here?”

  “Give me a couple of hours, okay?”

  “We’ll see you at three then, Ms. Walker.”

  Lena closed the phone and shook her head. If nothing else, Alex’s visit had served as a welcome distraction from her other worries. Gone, she thought, revisiting Maeve’s words. If I’m Rhiannon, and Odin’s Dylan Anderson, just what the hell does ‘gone’ mean? She shivered. ‘Gone’, for Annie had meant gone for good.

  Stepping on the accelerator, she left Monson behind and took the first of the big hills into mountain country.

  ***

  There was none of the casual banter she’d experienced in the past when she arrived at the Greenville Police Department after a short but successful search for Alex. The precinct room was crowded with official looking officers, all of whom raised their eyes when she entered. The Interim Chief, himself, met her at the door accompanied by two out-of-towners. He hustled her to the back and into his office, closing the door behind him before Middle Marx could offer her coffee.

  “Selene Walker, these are detectives Holmes and Macy, out of Bangor. They’ll be helping with the questioning today.”

  Lena extended her hand to each of the men and turned to the Interim Chief expectantly.

  “Please take a seat, Mrs. Walker,” he said, uncharacteristically formal as he pointed out the video camera. “I’ll be taping this interview, as you can see.”

  She placed her purse on his desk and sat, waiting for him to continue as she assessed the new detectives. They weren’t the men who’d interviewed her before. Dressed in understated brown suits, they made an incongruous and hostile-looking pair. She felt a flutter of nerves as Stan turned back to her.

 
“Ready?” he said.

  She nodded.

  He cleared his throat and smiled. “First of all, I’d like to thank you for coming in so promptly. I know it’s quite a hike for you from Breakneck Ridge.”

  “No problem, Stan,” she said, folding her hands across her lap.

  “Detective Spaulding.”

  “No problem, Detective.”

  “Obviously, I’ve called you in to talk about the murder of Ann Janson.”

  “I figured as much.”

  Stan Spaulding frowned. “I’m just stating the facts for the record, Lena. This is serious…you know that, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “How did you know the victim, Ann Janson.”

  “Annie’s name is not Ann, Stan, it’s Diana. Diana Marie Janson.” She took a deep breath and focused on the new detectives. Stinky Spaulding already knew the story. “Annie and I’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten. She’s my best friend. Was my best friend.”

  “And Jake Morris?”

  “I’ve known him all my life, as well.”

  “When did you last see Annie Janson?”

  “April 17. I was here to look at a camp. It was the place I ended up buying.”

  “Could you please recount your last conversation with Ann…um, Diana?”

  Lena sighed. She began with the phone call from Marge Quimby and continued with her trip to Blackwater Pond and her later conversation with Annie at The Black Swan. Stan stopped her when she got to the part about Annie’s new beau.

  “So you, yourself, never saw this mysterious stranger?”

  “No.”

  “And you can’t remember his name?”

  “Actually, I can. His last name is Anderson and he’s from somewhere in the mid-west. Michigan, I think, or maybe Minnesota.”

  “Anderson, huh?” Stan tapped his pen on the desk, eyebrows raised. “That’s a new development. When did you finally remember his name Ms. Walker?”

  “About three hours ago, actually.”

  He frowned. “I suppose it just came to you out of the blue.”

  Lena weighed her options. She could tell him about her suspicions but if it turned out that Odin wasn’t the mysterious Mr. Anderson, she’d sentence him to unending harassment. Undoubtedly, Odin would be upset enough by her lack of faith in him to leave her. No, she decided; before she said anything to anyone, she needed to be absolutely sure.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “How convenient for Jake Morris.”

  Stan Spaulding scribbled a few lines in his notebook while Lena waited impatiently. He studied his notes and tapped his pen again. “Speaking of Jake Morris…after you bought the camp on Blackwater Pond, you hired him as a handyman, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did that entail?” he asked. “A bit of carpentry, brush cutting, painting?”

  Lena nodded. “All of that. We cleared out the driveway, got rid of the junk inside, put on a new roof, built an outhouse, fixed the dock, re-built the boat ramp…built a small shed, and buried the gas tank.” She thought about it for a few seconds. “That about covers it.”

  “When you say ‘got rid of the junk’, exactly what junk is it that you’re referring to?”

  Lena turned her attention to the new detectives. “When I bought it, the cabin was heaped full of garbage. Jake and I loaded it into his truck and took it to the Monson Transfer Station.”

  Stan’s mouth curled into a tight smile. She frowned; he looked, to her, a little like the Grinch on a bad day.

  “That jibes with our info,” he said. “Johnny Travers, down in Monson, told me that you dropped off several truckloads of ‘junk’. Sixty-seven bags at a dollar a bag, to be exact. That’s a lot of trash, Lena.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Did you ever look inside any of the bags to see what you were throwing out, Mrs. Walker?”

  Lena wasn’t sure that she liked the direction that his questioning was taking. “No,” she said, cautiously.

  “You weren’t curious?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. The bags were crawling with maggots. There were rats around, too.”

  “I assume you wore gloves when you got rid of the trash, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “And Jake?”

  Lena frowned. “No. He’s allergic to the latex coating.”

  “So none of your fingerprints would be on those bags.” Tap, tap, tap. “Just Jake Morris’s.”

  “I guess so.” Lena pushed her chair back and placed her hands on the desk. “Look, Stan, we’ve been over this a hundred times already…what’s this all about?”

  He ignored her. “Mrs. Walker, is it true that you just filed for divorce from your husband, Alex Walker, of Stamford, Connecticut?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Golly gee, Officer Stan, word sure gets out fast up here.”

  “When did you file the paperwork?”

  “Last week. The same day you called me in to tell me about Annie.”

  His pen continued to tap. “Why did you decide to divorce your husband, Mrs. Walker?”

  Lena crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

  “Is it because you’re having an affair?”

  She flushed but kept her eyes fixed and steady. “Like I said before, Stan, it’s none of your business.”

  “Mrs. Walker, are you sleeping with Jake Morris?”

  She blinked, surprised. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

  The Interim Chief turned a page in his notes and highlighted a phrase, pointing it out to the other detectives. The two out-of-towners raised their eyes, pinning her in their glare.

  “I have a statement here from Pamela Desjardin,” he continued. “You know Pam, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” she said. “We went to school together. Jake brought her up to the camp one day. They spent the afternoon with me.”

  “What a coincidence…I was just going to ask you about that, Lena.” Stan smiled and turned back to his notes. “According to Miss Desjardin, on the day that she and Jake went to visit you on Breakneck Ridge, the two of you were arguing. Is that correct?”

  Lena nodded reluctantly.

  “Why were you arguing, Mrs. Walker?”

  “Jake was worried about me and Alex,” she said, slowly. “He was unhappy with the idea of me breaking off my marriage.”

  “Unhappy?” Stan raised his eyebrows. “I’d have thought he’d be thrilled, considering the circumstances.”

  Lena’s patience was wearing thin. “I told you, Stan…I’m not sleeping with Jake Morris!”

  Tap. Tap. “So you said.” He stood, stretched, and settled back into his chair. “Let’s skip to the day of Annie Janson’s memorial service, shall we?”

  Lena nodded.

  “Jane Janson told me that you arrived early.”

  “I wanted to help with the flowers.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes.” Lena fidgeted with the hem of her jacket. Outside, she could hear the rain drumming against the window.

  “What did you do next?”

  “After we placed them around, I took a cone and a sign back to the main road to deter traffic. Jane wanted to keep the parking lot by the trailhead free of cars so that there’d be room for all of the mourners to fit.”

  “Did you walk back to attend the memorial?”

  “Yes.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Myself and a thousand other people.”

  Stan shook his head. He smiled. “You know what I mean, Lena. At the service, did you stand with anyone in particular?”

  “Jake Morris.”

  “And afterward? Did you go to the reception at Janie Janson’s home?”

  Lena shook her head. “No. I picked Jake up at his house and we went for a drink at The Black Swan.”

  “Did you spend the rest of the afternoon there?”

  “No. I onl
y stayed for two beers.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  She squirmed in the chair, unsure where he was headed. “Jake was drinking pretty heavy. I don’t like him when he’s drunk. As soon as he got into the hard stuff, I left.”

  “Hmmm.” Tap, tap, tap. “Lena? Were you aware that, at the time of her death, Annie Janson was three months pregnant?”

  Lena stared at him in stunned disbelief.

  “No?” Tap, tap. “Your very best friend in the whole world didn’t tell you that she was having a baby?”

  “I didn’t hear from her after the middle of April,” Lena stammered. “Maybe she wasn’t pregnant then.” It was the only explanation she could think of. Pregnant. She couldn’t imagine that Annie would have kept such a thing from her.

  “The forensics guys placed the time of her death somewhere around mid to late June. The last time you saw her, she would have been between four and six weeks along. A woman usually knows she’s carrying by six weeks, doesn’t she?”

  Lena digested the fact in silence.

  “Lena?” The detective leaned toward her across the desk. “Did Jake Morris ever talk to you about having children?”

  “He said that he wasn’t sure that he wanted them,” she said.

  “He told you that?”

  “He told Alex about two years ago. We’d been trying to get pregnant at the time. Alex was telling Jake about our difficulties and Jake said that he didn’t consider infertility much of a problem. He said that he didn’t really want kids, at least not any time soon.”

  Stan sat back with the trace of a smile. Tap. “If I were you, Lena, I’d think about calling your lawyer.”

  She opened her mouth to protest. Stan raised one hand to stop her.

  “Listen up for a minute,” he said. “Most of Annie Janson’s remains were found in the bags that you and Jake Morris dumped at the Monson Transfer Station. So was the saw - Jake Morris’ saw - the one that was used to dismember her. You were one of the last people to talk to her and, coincidentally, you filed for divorce at the same time you developed a tight relationship with her ex-boyfriend. Put the facts together and your involvement with Jake Morris looks more than a little suspect from where I sit.”

  Lena rose from the chair, her stunned lethargy gone. “That’s bullshit, Stan, and you know it! I loved Annie! I’d never do anything to harm her.” She tossed her purse over one shoulder and turned away, shaking. “That goes for Jake Morris, too. You’ve made a mistake, Stinky. You’ve got the wrong guy.”