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All Bark and No White Knight

Page 4

by Stella St. Claire


  Janelle snorted. “You just don’t want to do the mature thing. You came here for advice, and I gave it to you. You do whatever you want with it.”

  Stunned and hurt by her sister’s harsh words, Olivia stiffened her back and walked out. Instead of heading back up to her apartment, she went out onto the street and over to the bookstore to see if Jackie was still there.

  The new girl Jackie had hired informed her that Jackie had a date with Brett that night.

  Feeling utterly alone, Olivia admitted defeat and headed upstairs. She knew, at least, that Goodwin and Fender would be happy to keep her company.

  They wouldn’t even steal her popcorn, like Andrew did, or tell her that two glasses of wine were more than enough for one night.

  5

  It was close to eleven by the time Olivia finally heard Andrew’s tread on the stairs, heralded by that squeaky stair they had been unable to completely silence during their renovations. Unable to help herself, she opened her door to greet him as he put his key in the lock of his door.

  He turned at the sound of her voice, looking absolutely exhausted when their eyes met.

  “Hey, babe,” he said quietly.

  Babe. Olivia wanted to melt at the word until she reminded herself that he could have very well said that same word to Hannah just a few hours ago.

  “I was going to see if you wanted some dinner, but I didn’t expect you to get home so late. I could probably warm something up for you if you want,” she said, and though she tried to sound brave, her voice shook just a bit.

  “I would love something to eat. I’m starving. I got called back into work after I left the hospital,” he said as he raked his hand through his hair. “A dog ate through some of the computer wires.”

  Stiffening, she narrowed her eyes. “Sounds as lame as a dog ate your homework,” she pointed out. If he was going to lie to her, couldn’t he come up with something a little more plausible?

  “It does, doesn’t it?” There was no guilt in his eyes. “Let me change real quick, and I’ll be right over.”

  Her mind raced as she closed the door. She’d told herself that she was going to confront him about what she had seen, but he looked completely bedraggled, and she certainly wasn’t in the right headspace.

  Maybe she should just wait.

  Then again, she knew that she wouldn’t get any sleep if she kept waiting. It would be like ripping off a Band-Aid. She’d just tell him what she had done and see what happened.

  Hey, Andrew, I don’t trust you, so I followed you today and saw you with another woman.

  Yeah, that would go over real well.

  Then again, he was potentially cheating on her. Her sin paled in comparison, right?

  The devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other started arguing as she pulled out the leftover Chinese food and popped it in the microwave. The dogs, following their noses and knowing how messy she was, stayed within inches of her as she moved around the kitchen. When a grain of rice fell to the floor, both flew at it as if they were starving. She dumped the cartons into one large bowl, topped the bowl with a paper towel (she’d learned her lesson about greasy food splatters), and set it in the microwave, took a guess at how much time the food would take to reheat, and pressed start. She got out paper plates and napkins—quick cleanup—and piled forks and spoons and chopsticks on top, setting the whole pile on the coffee table. She could deal it out like a deck of cards when Andrew arrived . . . The microwave dinged, and she retrieved the bowl. The hopeful dogs escorted her to the living room. Once she’d set the steaming bowl on the coffee table, they ignored her and kept their eyes glued to the food.

  She didn’t want to start without him, so she just sat, waiting, trying to ignore the mournful faces before her. Finally, when watching the door became too much, she grabbed the remote and turned on the television. The eleven o’clock news was already in full swing. Goodwin and Fender sat at her feet and stared at her with their dark brown puppy eyes as she picked absently at the lemon chicken on top of the pile of leftovers.

  Too bad for them, she was more than used to the look. “Have you two forgotten the trouble that you’ve caused this week? Fender, you howled for ten minutes today—at a dead leaf. Goodwin, I know that you were the one who dragged all the toys out at work. You can give me that innocent look, but you were the only dog tall enough to reach the cabinet.”

  Realizing that she was about to eat all the food before he got there, she got up again and set the bowl on the counter. He was late. Was he standing her up? Why hadn’t he called?

  A knot formed in her stomach. What was happening?

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard his footsteps in the hall and the key in the door. Goodwin forgot about the forbidden feast and went wagging to the door. Olivia was about to greet Andrew when something on the television caught her attention.

  Police lights lit up the video and Breaking News scrolled across the screen. When the profile picture of a familiar face popped up on the screen, Olivia gasped and lunged for the remote to turn up the volume.

  “Tonight, the body of twenty-four-year-old Hannah Maclin was found behind End Game, a popular sports bar in the small town of Lexingburg. According to Sheriff Nicholas Limperos, the woman was stabbed to death. She was found with a single rose placed on her body. Law enforcement is currently not releasing any additional details at this time. We’ll keep you updated as the case progresses.”

  In a panic, Olivia turned her head away from the slightly blurry picture of a smiling Hannah.

  Andrew stood in the doorway, his eyes glued to the television screen. All the blood had drained from his face. Goodwin, still wagging his tail, shoved his nose into Andrew’s hands. When Andrew didn’t scratch his muzzle, he whined.

  “Andrew.” Her voice cracked.

  “I have to go,” he said abruptly. “Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He hurriedly walked out the door, and she just stared after him. Fender dropped his head to the floor and slowly wandered back to his bed, sniffing for more errant grains of rice along the way, but Goodwin sat at the closed door and whined a little as he cocked his head.

  “Come here, Goodwin,” she whispered. “Come here, baby.” He got up and shambled over to her and pressed his head against her leg. She didn’t know if he was feeding off her own feelings or if he really understood what was happening, but she was grateful for his comfort.

  Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last. Her heart hammered in her chest, and when her phone, sitting on the ottoman, lit up, she knew that things were about to go from bad to worse.

  Nick wanted to see her.

  By now, Olivia was more than comfortable at the sheriff’s station and in Nick’s office. Not only had she helped out with three previous investigations, but she also occasionally walked Nick’s dog, Tucker. Nick had a minor weight problem, and after receiving some bad news from the doctor, his wife Mary had insisted that he start eating healthier and exercising more, starting with walking their dog. On the days that Nick couldn’t get around to it, he hired Olivia on the sly.

  She considered the two of them friends, even if he did get annoyed with her amateur sleuthing, but as she sat now waiting alone in the interrogation room, she didn’t feel like this was going to be a friendly conversation. The setting wasn’t quite as bad as it looked on television crime shows and movies, but the fluorescent lights overhead were harsh, and the blank walls were strangely intimidating. Add the uncomfortable plastic chair beneath her, and she could understand why some suspects were quick to confess.

  Had someone spotted her at End Game? Nick wasn’t seriously considering her or Andrew a suspect—was he?

  The door opened, and Olivia looked up in relief, but as Nick came in, he studiously avoided making eye contact. He was an older man, in his late fifties, and he had been the sheriff for as long as Olivia could remember. In a small town, there usually wasn’t a whole lot of crime, but lately, the circles under his eye
s were darkening. She knew that he wasn’t happy with the amount of crime happening in Lexingburg, and from what she’d seen on the news, Hannah’s murder had been particularly brutal.

  “Olivia. I know it’s late. Thanks for coming in,” he said as he sat down.

  “Sure. I’m happy to help with whatever you need.”

  Nick finally met her gaze, and she could see sadness in his eyes. “I don’t know if you saw the news or not, but we found a body tonight. A young woman by the name of Hannah Maclin. She was a waitress at the Village Tavern Diner. Do you know her?”

  He slid a picture across the table, and she knew without a doubt that it was the woman she’d seen with Andrew. She didn’t want to lie to Nick, but she needed to be careful. “I think I’ve seen her around. Do you need help with the investigation?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I know that I’ve told you in the past to keep your nose out of things, but this time I mean it, Olivia.”

  Leaning back, she spread her hands out. “Then what do you want with me?”

  “You and Andrew are back together, right?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You brought me in here to ask about my love life?”

  “Olivia,” Nick growled softly. “Just answer the question.”

  “Yes. Andrew and I are back together.”

  “So he’s not seeing anyone else?”

  Not surprisingly, someone Nick had already talked to had probably mentioned seeing Hannah with Andrew. Olivia figured that was why Nick was questioning her. He and Andrew were friends. Nick was obviously trying to figure out why Andrew had been with Hannah before he brought him in for questioning.

  She was careful with her wording. She couldn’t lie to Nick—it wouldn’t be right or legal—but she also didn’t want to wrongly implicate Andrew. Despite whatever it actually was her boyfriend was doing, he was not a killer. “Andrew is not the kind of guy who cheats, Nick.” She leaned forward. “Do you have any leads?”

  “Do you know where Andrew was today?”

  Nick was obviously avoiding her questions, but he wasn’t being subtle about the subject of his questions. “He was at work,” Olivia said honestly. “Please tell me that you don’t really think that Andrew had something to do with this girl’s death.”

  “If I thought Andrew was capable of murder, he’d be here instead of you,” Nick snapped. “But he was seen talking to the girl before her death.”

  Olivia waited for him to tell her that he’d been seen with the rose, that it had appeared to be a date, but Nick didn’t go into details. She felt a little annoyed that the sheriff was trying to keep Andrew’s secret. She’d known him way longer than Andrew had. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation.”

  “I hope so. I asked him to come down here, too, but he didn’t respond. I don’t want to have to send a deputy out to get him.”

  Crap. That wasn’t good.

  She couldn’t tell him that Andrew had also seen the news segment. “I’m sure he’ll be getting in touch with you soon,” she said, standing to her feet. “Is there anything else that you need?”

  “I need your promise that you aren’t going to investigate. I have a bad feeling about this one, Olivia. She was found on the street, so she may not have been targeted. This could have been just a random killing.”

  Olivia knew where this was going. Nick was afraid that Hannah had been killed randomly and that there could be others. It did make the case more dangerous, but there was no way that Olivia was going to sit back and do nothing. She couldn’t prove that Andrew was seeing other women, but she knew damn well that he was no killer.

  Standing straighter, she gave the sheriff a tight smile. “Good luck in the investigation.”

  “Olivia,” Nick said, warning in his voice. Then he sighed as if he knew that he was wasting his breath. “If you talk with Andrew about this, it can implicate you as well.”

  “You’re not implicating me because you’re not implicating him,” she snapped. “Andrew didn’t kill anyone, and you know it. I know that you have to talk to him, but you’re already acting like your hands are tied.”

  He cocked his head and stared at her. “And you’re not asking me what witnesses saw—which means that you know more than you’re telling.”

  Olivia swallowed hard. This was all wrong. She and Nick were never on opposite sides. “Tell Mary that I said hi.” Opening the door, she let herself out. As she walked by Nick’s office door, she glanced in and was relieved to see that Andrew was in there, waiting with another deputy.

  He lifted his gaze to see her, and she saw the surprise that registered in his eyes.

  They were definitely going to have that talk.

  It upset Olivia that Andrew came back from the sheriff’s station and went straight to his own apartment. She barely slept a wink that night, so when she went down to the bakery to steal a muffin, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with Janelle when she found her older sister sitting on the floor, surrounded by flour, throwing a tiny temper tantrum.

  “What in the world?” Olivia demanded.

  Janelle opened her eyes and immediately started to scold. “It’s too small!” she spluttered. “Too small!”

  “Would you quit worrying about the stupid kitchen!” Olivia snapped. “We have a serious problem that we need to deal with.” She reached down to help her grumbling sister to her feet.

  “I swear, if this is about Andrew . . .” Janelle threatened with narrowed eyes. “We’re talking about my career here.”

  “Yes, because you’re not already wildly successful,” Olivia pointed out dryly. But this wasn’t the time for that. “You know the woman that I saw with Andrew? Hannah?” She nodded as recognition flared in Janelle’s eyes and added flatly, “She’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Janelle’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”

  “What do you mean, am I sure? Didn’t you watch the news last night? She was stabbed, and they found a rose on her body. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that the rose was the same one that Andrew had in his hand, not to mention that witnesses have already told Nick he was with her. Nick asked me to come in for questioning last night.”

  Looking a little lost, Janelle avoided Olivia’s outstretched hand and awkwardly pushed herself to her feet. She brushed the flour off her chef’s coat. “I didn’t see the news,” she murmured. “Patrick felt bad and wanted to make things up to me. We spent . . .”

  “That’s not important,” Olivia interrupted. “Janelle, you’re my older sister. I come to you for wisdom and guidance.”

  Janelle snorted. “No, you don’t. You ignore all of my advice.”

  “Then give me some advice to ignore! This isn’t just about Andrew seeing someone else. No matter what he’s done or what he’s doing, I know he’s not a killer.”

  “There you go,” Janelle said, a smile taking over her face. “You can relax because you know that he didn’t kill her. What do you need me for?”

  What did Olivia need Janelle for?

  Sometime in the last month, her older sister had lost her mind. Olivia needed her sister to tell her that she had everything wrong, but that was apparently not going to happen.

  “Will you help me clear his name?” she asked quietly.

  “Clear his name? Olivia, please tell me that you’re not going to investigate this.” Janelle shook her head, putting a floury hand to her forehead in dismay, leaving a pale mark there when she brought her hand down again with a slap, raising a small white cloud. “Never mind. What am I saying? Of course you’re going to investigate it. It’s what you do.” Janelle shook her head in frustration. “The thing is, Olivia, you always tend to mess it up. What if you make things worse for Andrew?”

  Before Olivia could respond, there was a thundering of footsteps on the stairs. She turned just in time to see Andrew reach the bottom.

  Anger was written all over his face.

  “Hey,” she said slowly. “Do you want to talk about last night?”

  Putting his
open laptop down on the table, he whirled it around. On the screen, Olivia saw a picture of her and Jackie, their faces frozen in stupid expressions. Her heart sank. Apparently, his computer had an anti-theft mechanism for someone who entered their password too many times.

  “Explain this,” he said coldly.

  “I needed to look at your computer. You changed the password,” she snapped. “Why don’t you explain that?”

  “I had to take my laptop into work last month,” he said tersely. “And because of that, I had to change my password. Let’s talk about the fact that you have your own computer. You also had to enter my apartment to use it.”

  “Good luck explaining that,” Janelle said under her breath.

  “Not helping,” Olivia hissed. “Andrew, you were seen with a woman who was murdered shortly after you were with her. I think we need to talk about that, instead.”

  “That is none of your business!” he snapped. “And you’re going to stay out of it. You’re also going to stay out of my apartment and off my computer. I have sensitive material on here, Olivia. Stuff that you could easily mess up. Not to mention that you don’t have any right to be on my laptop without asking me!”

  Olivia barely heard anything he said after that first sentence. “None of my business?” she repeated stupidly. “Are we or are we not in a relationship, Andrew? Because—let’s face it, things have been weird lately, and now you’re a murder suspect. If we’re together, then that makes it my business.”

  “Don’t do this, Olivia,” he said tightly. “Everything is going to work out okay, but I’m not going to stand by and let you get involved. Nick already told me what he told you. This could get dangerous.”

  “Like I was never in danger before?” she retorted.

  “You’ve been lucky. Sooner or later, that luck is going to run out. Stick to your dog-walking business, and let Nick do his job. And stay off my computer.” Slamming the laptop shut, he grabbed it and stalked out of the bakery.

 

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