by Nic Saint
Felicity checked her list. So far she counted four suspects. In no particular order, they were:
Stephen Conch—lost his job because of Alistair
Rob Long—stood to inherit a great deal
Ruth Long—ditto
Carla Santonica
At the last name she turned to the group, who were still arguing about Alistair Long’s lack of virtues, and asked, “What happened to Carla Santonica? Did she get the money for the abortion?”
Mabel’s eyes flicked to the whiteboard and she clapped her hands with glee. “Oh, this is so nice. Just like in the movies!” She tapped Bettina’s knee. “Now all we need is a hot police detective and we’re golden.”
“Why don’t we ask Virgil to join us?!” suggested Bettina.
At this, they both burst into laughter, and when Marjorie’s lips narrowed into a thin line, they laughed even harder.
“Just kidding, honey,” Mabel chuckled.
“No one would confuse Virgil with a hot detective,” added Bettina under her breath.
“I don’t think it’s funny,” Marjorie muttered.
“But then you never do, honey,” Mabel added.
“Carla Santonica?” Felicity reminded them.
Mabel placed her hands demurely in her lap. “Yes. Let’s not get distracted. Well, Carla eventually found the money, didn’t she? Because as far as I know she never had that baby.”
Alice gave an astonished snort. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t know?”
“Honestly, Alice, honey,” said Bettina with a toss of her frizzy mane, “do you think we know everything? I mean, we’re not psychic, you know.”
“I wish,” muttered Mabel. “Would make life a lot easier.”
Felicity hesitated. Carla Santonica’s motive seemed hardly established. Alistair had refused her the money for an abortion but apparently she’d found it somewhere else. Hardly a reason to kill a man. “When did this happen? The Santonica thing I mean?”
Mabel frowned. “Let me see…”
“June 1993,” Marjorie snapped. When the others all turned to her, she blushed. “Well, I remember because she filed a complaint against Alistair. Told Virgil he’d assaulted her. Turned out he’d merely taken her arm in a firm grip and shown her the door.” She sighed, casting down her eyes. “I remember because it was the same day Virgil came down with the mumps.”
“I don’t think Carla should be on that list,” opined Bettina as she studied Felicity’s handiwork.
“Just leave her,” suggested Mabel. “Better have too many suspects than too little.” She frowned. “There should be more people, don’t you think?”
The three women gazed at one another, pooling their tittle-tattle resources and digging deep for dirt on Alistair Long. It didn’t take them long to find it.
“I think you should add Reece Hudson’s father,” Mabel said slowly, then nodded, “and probably even Reece Hudson himself for that matter.”
Alice jerked her head up at the mention of her idol. “Reece Hudson? What makes you say that?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” asked Bettina.
“The dog!” cried Marjorie, nodding as she remembered. “Of course.”
“What dog?” asked Alice, looking from one watch committee member to another. “Tell me!”
“It was Reece’s dog, wasn’t it?” asked Bettina, ignoring Alice’s frantic plea.
Mabel snapped her fingers. “Benji. Such a lovely name for a dog.”
“What happened to the dog?!” cried Alice. She hated being kept in suspense.
Marjorie clucked her tongue. “You know what happened to the dog, Alice.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You don’t? How quaint. I thought you were the Reece Hudson expert.”
“What. Happened. To. The. Dog?!”
“Such a cute little mutt,” reminisced Mabel. “Reece’s little canine companion for years. Walked with him to school every single day, remember?”
“How can I forget?” asked Bettina. “He came into the store, even though dogs weren’t allowed. But we made an exception for Benji because Reece was so fond of him and Benji never pooped on the store floor like some dogs do.”
The three women sat in silence for a moment, nurturing fond memories of Benji. Finally both Felicity and Alice cried, “What happened to the dog?!”
Marjorie looked up, as if from a trance. “Well, Benji died, of course. Alistair backed over him with his car. I don’t think Reece ever got over it.”
“It wasn’t Reece who was devastated,” corrected Bettina. “It was Jack Hudson. He loved that dog as much as Reece did. Transferred some of his love to the dog when Reece went off to Hollywood.” She pointed to the whiteboard. “Add Reece and Jack Hudson to the list, honey. They sure have motive.”
“And opportunity,” added Marjorie with a frown. “Jack has that gun range. Loves to shoot those big guns of his any chance he gets.”
Mabel popped another piece of apple cobbler into her mouth and nodded agreeably. “And Reece is in town. He’s staying with his dad.”
Bettina gasped. Like her son Bancroft she liked her celebrities. “He is?”
“Introducing his fiancée,” confirmed Mabel. “Though what he sees in the woman I don’t know.”
As the discussion switched to Dorothy Valour, Felicity noticed that Alice’s eyes had lit up with a holy fire. Knowing her friend, she knew this meant trouble. Big trouble. And even before Alice had turned those big green eyes on her she was already shaking her head. No way. Absolutely no way.
Chapter 27
“I don’t care what you have to do. Just make it happen,” Dorothy snapped, and promptly disconnected.
Reece had actually called his fiancée to ask what was taking her so long, and when she would be arriving in Happy Bays. Instead, she’d given him her spiel about The Bristol again—something he’d completely forgotten about. He’d been about to crack a joke when she cut him off.
As he processed their brief conversation Reece stared off into the woods that lined his father’s property. He’d stepped out of the house for a moment, not wanting to disturb the old man, and as he tucked the phone back into the pocket of his jeans, he looked up at the stars and wondered not for the first time whether this engagement was such a great idea after all.
It was now obvious to him that his fiancée had no plans to join him and meet his father, and she was using some hapless manager at The Bristol as an excuse. He had absolutely no intention of having some department store manager fired. And he was seriously starting to think he’d completely misjudged the fiery selfie queen. Was she nuts, or what?
A good friend had warned him about this. He’d told him Dorothy Valour was trouble. She had a mean streak that only came out when you got to know her. When you looked past those killer looks.
Kirt Stur, a veteran actor, had taken a liking to Reece while filming Crunch Time 3. Reece played the lead homicide detective, Chuck MacLachlan, with his trademark one-liner ‘Hot potato!’, while Kirt was the wizened old lieutenant and father figure.
Life mimicked art when Kirt had taken Reece aside for a man-to-man talk about his recent engagement. Kirt told him in no uncertain terms that if he wanted a long and prosperous career he shouldn’t marry Dorothy Valour.
“Take me, for instance,” the veteran star pointed out. “I’ve been married to the same woman for over thirty years and people ask me all the time how I manage.” He smiled, his vivid blue eyes just as enigmatic as when he first exploded onto the screen in the eighties. “She’s been the making of me, buddy. If not for Susan I wouldn’t even be here. Booze, drugs, women… My career would have gone down the drain a long time ago. She kept me on the straight and narrow. Hell, I’d probably be dead in a ditch by now if not for her. Marrying Susan is the best damn thing that ever happened to me, bar none.”
He held up an admonishing finger. “Make sure that when you finally settle down you choose wisely, young Padawan, cause you can only ruin your life once
and you’re about two steps away from proving that right now.”
Those words had rung in Reece’s ears ever since, and had gradually lifted the spell Dorothy had cast over him. They’d met on a skiing trip in Colorado, and he’d quickly fallen for the willowy blonde with the killer body. Two weeks of whirlwind romance later—including a night they spent in a remote cabin, snowed in and cut off from civilization—and he found himself dropping on one knee.
It had been the most exhilarating fortnight of his life, but gradually the mask had begun to crack and now that she refused to meet his father he was starting to see that the only person who mattered to Dorothy Valour was Dorothy Valour. And he very much doubted whether that would change when they got married.
“Trouble, son?” Dad asked from the kitchen.
He returned indoors. No need to drag his father into this mess. “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said with a reassuring smile.
Dad nodded, not convinced. He took his coat from a peg near the door. “I’m gonna put in some work. Wanna join me?”
Reece mentally shook himself. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“I need to check on the animals, then put in some hours at the range.”
“Sure, Dad.” He could use some of that good old-fashioned hard work. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
He slipped his feet into the rubber boots his father kept by the door, shrugged into the thick parka, and followed his dad. Even though the old man owned the gun range, he still liked to follow his own father’s tradition and kept some livestock around. Some pigs, chickens, a cow, and a horse he rented to a couple of city slickers who came up for the weekend. He didn’t need the money. Reece had made sure his dad was well provided for. Still the old man insisted on running a small farm. It was part of his mental make-up. He’d never once voiced the thought but he knew that even though Reece was raking in the big bucks now it could all be over with any day, and then what?
So he kept the gun range, and the animals, and refused to budge from the house he’d lived in since he’d inherited it from his own old man, even though Reece had offered to buy him any house he wanted.
Dad had thanked him, told him to buy him an apartment, and then proceeded to stay put and rent out the new property. For later, he said, when he wouldn’t be able to keep up the house, and needed to sell.
They arrived at the stables and fell into an easy routine. Dad disappeared into the chicken coop while Reece worked the hogs. And as he was filling the troughs he found that he actually enjoyed the work. And when Lady suddenly trotted up from her usual perch in a corner of the stable and shoved her wet nose against his palm, he felt a sudden warmth spread through him. As he cuddled the dog he knew just what this was. The warmth of being home. With his family.
As he stared around him at the plank walls, the hogs snuffling and grunting as they dug into their food, and tried to picture Dorothy here, he had to laugh. What was he thinking? Of course she would never come here. This was so out of character she would just as soon have a makeup-free picture taken than set foot in a place like this.
With a feeling of finality he knew he had to put an end to this charade. He was just glad the spell had been broken before and not after the wedding.
“Excuse me.” The sound of a voice where no voice should have been startled him.
He looked up and found himself gazing into a pair of sparkling green eyes. A young woman with blond hair styled in a bob stood smiling at him from the doorway. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. “Yes?”
“I was wondering when the gun range would be open.”
He remembered that Dad kept odd hours and only opened the range when he felt like it. “Um, I think it’s about to open any minute now.” He gestured in the direction of the chicken coop. “When my old man is done feeding the birds, that is.”
The woman’s smile deepened and he found himself entranced. “Oh. It’s just that my friend wants to learn how to shoot—it’s her first time—and…” Suddenly a frown appeared on her brow and her smile faltered. “Aren’t you…” Those bewitchingly green eyes widened, and she let out a soft shriek. Then, before he could stop her, she simply vanished without a word.
He stared at the empty doorway, wondering what had just happened, and moved to catch up with her. When he arrived at the door he saw his face in the mirror over the makeshift sink. Mud was stuck to his brow and cheeks, and now he really looked like a country bumpkin.
Oh, crap. He’d scared her off, of course. He reached the door and stared out into the night. Nothing. She was gone. He slammed the doorpost with the palm of his hand, then laughed. What was that thing about the universe closing doors and opening others? Just when he’d decided to break off his engagement with Dorothy this lovely young woman had appeared.
It couldn’t be a coincidence.
Chapter 28
Alice hurried away from the barn and back to the van Felicity had parked on the road. She’d finally managed to convince her friend to join her for a visit to the gun range. Not just to practice shooting that new gun of hers, but to see if they couldn’t extract some information from Jack Hudson about Alistair Long.
And then there was her ‘Seduce Reece’ project, of course, though she was starting to doubt whether she hadn’t been too sanguine when suggesting that bet.
They’d arrived a little after eight and Felicity had taken one look at the place and decided to turn back. It was obvious they were closed for business. “Nobody home,” she concluded. “Let’s come back tomorrow.”
“I’m sure they’ll open soon,” Alice countered.
Felicity wasn’t convinced. “I just don’t think the universe wants me here.” The prospect of practicing her shooting skills didn’t appeal to her.
“And I think the universe wants us to make an effort,” Alice argued and hopped from the car to see if she couldn’t track down Jack Hudson. Instead, she found one of his farmhands working the pigsty. The young man seemed nice enough, and cute enough too, with chocolate eyes, disheveled dark hair and an impressive jawline. Though it was hard to know for sure, as his face was besmirched with dirt. Then, suddenly, she realized this wasn’t a farmhand but Reece Hudson himself!
So the holy trinity was right. And so were the tabloids. The movie star was in Happy Bays to introduce his fiancée to his father. And then she panicked and bolted.
Even though she told Felicity she’d seduce the man, she now knew she couldn’t and wouldn’t. Because when she found herself face to face with her idol, she fled.
She’d almost reached the car in her mad dash when a dark figure appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her arm.
She yelped in fright, Rick’s admonitions coming back to her.
The killer! He was here and he was going to murder her in cold blood!
She readied herself to fight for her life when the killer spoke.
“Alice, honey. Are you all right?”
It wasn’t the killer, it was… “Mr. Hudson!”
He studied her closely, his brows drawn together. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She nodded quickly. In a way she had. The ghost of her childhood dreams. But she could hardly explain to Jack Hudson that the ghost was his son. “It’s all right. I just came by to see—to ask—to know—” Her eyes widened when another figure loomed up behind them.
“Oh, there you are. I thought I’d scared you or something.”
She stared at Reece Hudson, tongue-tied for the very first time in her life and blinking like a deer in the headlights.
She didn’t even notice when Jack’s lips creased into a tiny smile.
“This young lady wants to know when you’re opening up the range, Dad,” Reece said. “Isn’t that right, Miss?”
She merely nodded, still incapable of speech. She was feeling exceedingly silly. All these years she’d mocked the kind of teenage girls who flock to premieres only to scream their heads off at the sight of Reece Hudson, some of them even swooning. And now she w
as doing the exact same thing herself!
“I was just about to open her up, honey,” said Jack. “Just give me a sec to change into something that doesn’t smell like chicken manure, all right?”
Once again she nodded, feeling like one of those bobblehead dolls.
“Maybe you should come in,” Reece suggested, eyeing her with worry. He turned to his dad. “I think she’s not feeling well. Maybe we should call a doctor?”
Jack smiled. “No doctor can cure what ails Alice, son. But you’re right about getting her inside.” He took her arm and led her to the back door of the house.
She knew the place, of course. Each time her mother had sent her out to get some eggs and milk, she’d waited at this exact same door while Mr. Hudson fetched her the stuff, then handed it to her free of charge. He and her mother had been high school sweethearts, she’d once explained, and even though she didn’t want to abuse their friendship she still enjoyed the occasional fresh eggs and milk.
Alice’d had her own personal motive to drop by, and it wasn’t dairy products. But even then Reece had rarely been in, and she’d only caught a glimpse of him now and then. She was pretty sure he didn’t remember her.
As she allowed herself to be led inside, her stomach turned somersaults and she wondered if this was what people felt when they knew their number was up. She stared at Reece as he stepped in behind her, seemingly filling the small kitchen with the aura that always surrounded him. He was a God, she thought. A God amongst men. Gorgeous, charismatic, and certainly larger than life.
Jack offered her a chair and she plunked down before her legs buckled.
“I’ll go freshen up if you don’t mind,” Reece told his father, then, after a last worried glance at Alice, disappeared through the kitchen door.
The moment he stepped from the room, the strange ban that had afflicted her vocal cords mysteriously lifted and she could finally speak again. She panted slightly, clutching a hand to her heart. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Hudson,” she gasped. “I don’t know what came over me just now.”