Flipped Out

by Jennie Bentley

  “Bastard,” Derek said, scowling.

  I smiled. “She’ll be fine. Look how many men she’s got protecting her. You, Wilson, Ted. If Adam gets too grabby, Josh might even leave Fae sitting there to come to the rescue, too. He and Shannon have been friends for too long for him to let Adam get away with anything.”

  “She doesn’t actually look like she minds,” Derek said, his voice and expression somewhere between incredulity and disgust. I turned my head again. The foursome had headed for the big, round booth in the back, the one that is usually occupied by Josh, Shannon, Paige, and Ricky. Shannon had scooted into the far corner—where, incidentally—she could see the entire room without turning around, including the table where Josh and Fae were sitting—and now she was smiling up at Adam, who was sliding in next to her. Derek and me, she hadn’t even noticed.

  Adam did look particularly glossy tonight, with his bouncy brown curls and dazzling white teeth. He was still wearing the tight jeans and the boots, and a sleeveless workout shirt, one that exposed his arms all the way up to the shoulders and clung to every gym-rat muscle he had. Candy’s eyes threatened to fall right out of her skull when she looked at him, and quite a few of the other young women in the room were staring openly, as well. And this time I don’t think it was because the men were strangers in town.

  Shannon may not have noticed us, but Wilson did, and gave us a friendly wave across the room. He’d also seen Fae and Josh and had stopped beside their table a moment for what looked like a friendly hello.

  Derek chuckled. “Doing her level best to flaunt Adam in Josh’s face, isn’t she?”

  “Shannon? Oh, yes. She didn’t just reach into her closet blindly and pull out Josh’s favorite shirt.”

  The top was white crochet with a deep, scalloped V-neck, and she looked stunning. Adam was back to drooling, practically dripping into her cleavage. Until Candy traipsed up to the table, anyway, and he was forced to divide his attention, and his questionable charm. Her chest was right at his eye level, and he took full advantage. Shannon took the opportunity to glance at Fae and Josh, and the corners of her mouth turned down.

  The whole situation was sort of farcical, and if I hadn’t felt so bad for her, I might have thought it was pretty funny. Clearly, though, she was unhappy. Whether because she was losing her best friend, or whether because she’d realized she was actually in love with Josh remained to be seen, but either way, I felt bad for her.

  Adam finished ogling Candy’s assets, and immediately Shannon was all smiles again. I turned to Derek. “This is almost painful to watch.”

  “We can leave,” Derek said.

  “Not on your life. At least not yet. And you promised Wayne we’d look out for her.”

  “Between Wilson and Ted,” Derek said, “I think she’s amply protected.”

  Maybe so. “I want to talk to them before we go.”

  “Them who?”

  “Wilson and Ted and Adam. I know where Nina was last night, or where she said she was. Same for Fae. But I have no idea what the men did after they went back to the B and B.”

  “You think one of them killed Tony? Why would they?”

  “I have no idea,” I admitted, “but someone did. And it makes sense that it was someone on the crew. Tony was just fine until they got here.”

  “Unless someone here in Waterfield wanted him dead and thought the crew showing up would throw a few new suspects into the mix.”

  “That’d only work if there was a connection between Tony and some of the crew, and how could anyone know that Nina and Tony used to be colleagues?” I shrugged. “Either way, I’d like to hear what they have to say for themselves. Besides, it’s just polite to stop by and say hello.”

  “Of course,” Derek said, reaching for the check that Candy had left along with the pizza earlier. “I’ll take care of this. You head on over there.”

  He went in his direction and I went in mine.

  Adam wasn’t above giving me an ogling, too, when I stopped beside the table. Aside from that, everyone else was nice. Shannon greeted me with a dazzling smile. “Hi, Avery. Fancy meeting you here!”

  “I know. Quite a coincidence. Must be a full moon or something, if all of us got a craving for pizza on the same night.”

  Wilson grinned. “Not hardly. We came to keep an eye on Fae. Shannon swore up and down that this kid she’s with is safe, but we thought it couldn’t hurt to let him know we’ve got her back.”

  So that’s what he’d been doing when he stopped by their table earlier. Being fatherly.

  “Oh, Josh is absolutely safe,” I said. “His dad’s the chief of police. He’s Kate’s stepson. And he’s a super-nice guy. She couldn’t be in better hands.”

  Shannon’s face curdled, and I bit my tongue a sentence too late. “Where’s Derek?” she asked, looking around. “You wanna join us?”

  I shook my head. “We’re actually on our way out. It’s been a long day. Since we couldn’t get into the house to do any work, we switched the schedule around and worked on landscaping instead. The place looks good. At least on the outside.”

  “I’ll swing by in the morning and shoot a few frames,” Wilson said. “Maybe have you mime planting a few flowers for the camera.”

  I nodded. “Any word from Wayne on whether we’ll be able to get back inside tomorrow? I don’t know how we’ll be able to finish the work if we lose another day.”

  They all looked at one another. Shannon shook her head. “He didn’t say anything to me. Then again, he’s been busy talking to other people all day. Mom’s hardly seen him at all.”

  I couldn’t ask for a better segue. I slipped into the booth next to Adam and glanced around the table, lowering my voice. “I don’t suppose Wayne said anything to you about . . . you know . . . anything? Tony? The case? Whether we’ll be able to go back to work tomorrow?”

  “You looked like you were friendly with him,” Wilson said. “Isn’t it more likely that he’d tell you?”

  “I’ve hardly seen him at all today. Since you guys spoke to him, I thought maybe he’d let something slip.” I waited.

  “Not in my interview,” Ted said. “He just asked if I’d ever met Tony before yesterday and whether I’d seen him after we went our separate ways in the afternoon.”

  He didn’t continue, and eventually I had to ask. “And had you?”

  “I saw him when he came to pick up Nina for dinner. Not after that.”

  “I did, too,” Adam piped up. “And Nina looked hot last night, too.”

  All three of the others looked at him. Adam added, quickly, “For someone older, I mean.”

  It didn’t help.

  “Nina’s forty-two,” Wilson said. “That’s not exactly at death’s door. My wife’s in her fifties, and she’s still a knockout. You wanna see a picture?” He fumbled for his wallet while Ted just stared at Adam, his disgust and distaste evident without his having to say a word.

  The picture of Wilson’s wife showed a stunning Raquel Welch lookalike, with lots of curly, shoulder-length brown hair and mile-long legs and what was either a dark tan or a Mediterranean complexion. “Veronica,” Wilson explained with a fond look at the photo. “She’s a grandmother four times now and still looks as good as when I met her.”

  “She’s gorgeous.” I passed the picture to Adam, who whistled.

  “You lucky dog, Will.”

  “She has children older than you,” Wilson said as Adam passed the picture to Shannon.

  “Did anyone else see Tony last night?” I looked around the table. “Maybe when he dropped Nina off?”

  But they all shook their heads. “Ted and I went out,” Wilson said, taking his photograph and tucking it lovingly back into his wallet. “Took the van to Portland. We didn’t get back until late.”

  “We don’t get much of a chance to look around when we visit places,” Ted added. “I thought it’d be nice to check it out, since we had the night off.”

  I nodded. “I don’t suppose you happe
ned to drive by the house on your way back?”

  “The house we’re filming?” Wilson shook his head. “Why?”

  “Just trying to figure out when Tony got there. There really was a group of teenagers walking around Cabot Street last night, and I thought . . .” I looked up when a hand landed on my shoulder. “All done?”

  Derek nodded.

  “Wait a second,” Adam said. “What about his girlfriend? That hot blonde he was with yesterday? I thought she killed him.”

  “My ex-wife,” Derek said, at the same time as I asked, “Where did you get that idea?”

  “I thought the police arrested her,” Adam said.

  We were all staring at him now, Wilson and Ted, too. “Where’d you hear that?” Wilson wanted to know.

  Adam turned to him. After a second, he said, “Can’t remember. But I’m pretty sure they did.”

  “No kidding.” Wilson turned to Derek and me. “You know anything about that?”

  I glanced at Derek. He shook his head. “We need to go.”

  “I guess we’d better. Nice to see you. Enjoy your pizza.” I had to toss the last sentence over my shoulder as Derek dragged me out of the restaurant. He wouldn’t even let me stop at Fae and Josh’s table; I had to content myself with waving to them on the way past.

  11

  “Where are we going?” I asked when we were in the truck driving hell for leather back toward town, taking corners on two wheels. Derek shot me a look before turning his attention back to the road, and the look pretty much said it all.

  “Well, I’m sorry,” I added defensively, “but what are you planning to do? Storm into Wayne’s house and yank him out of bed to tell him your ex-wife couldn’t have murdered anyone?”

  “It’s only nine thirty,” Derek answered, concentrating on the road, “so I doubt he’s in bed. He may not even be home. He has a murder to solve, and you know what they say: The first twenty-four hours are crucial.”

  “I thought that was kidnappings,” I said.

  “Whatever.”

  He floored the gas pedal and the truck shot up the hill alongside the Stenhams’ construction site, Devon Highlands, that had been lying barren since my cousins went off to jail six months ago. I’d once driven off the road right here, after someone had tampered with the brake lines on Derek’s truck.

  “And if he is,” I said now, meaning Wayne, “I suppose you’ll wake him?”

  Derek glanced over at me again, a flash of blue eyes. “Do you think Melissa killed Tony?”

  I hesitated. “Not really, I guess. Although I’m not as convinced of her innocence as you seem to be.”

  “She didn’t. Trust me.”

  “But how can you know that? Unless you . . .” I stopped. Dead, if you’ll pardon the pun, as a horrible suspicion stole over me.

  Derek didn’t look at me to see what was wrong. Instead he kept staring fixedly at the road, a flush creeping into his cheeks.

  And granted, at fifty-five miles per hour, it was just as well that he was watching where we were going . . . but my intuition still told me that something was going on.

  “Derek?” I said.

  He glanced at me. And I have to admit it, he looked sheepish, maybe even a little guilty.

  “What do you know that I don’t?”

  He took a breath. And let it out in a rush. “I spent part of the night at Melissa’s last night.”

  I blinked. I’d heard the words, but they didn’t make sense to me. “What?”

  He squirmed. “Remember that bottle of wine and two glasses? Well, when I got home from your place last night, Melissa was still awake. And outside. In the parking lot.”

  “Your parking lot? Or her own?” If she’d been in her own, behind her building, he wouldn’t have had occasion to see her. Unless he’d gone looking.

  “Mine,” Derek said. “The parking lot behind the hardware store. She was upset about Tony and Nina, and she asked me if I’d come up for a minute.”

  The numb feeling his words had caused started to fade, and I was getting hot. And bothered. And not in a good way. My skin prickled and I had to fight to keep my voice steady. “And it didn’t occur to you to say no?”

  “She said she wanted to talk.”

  That didn’t really answer my question, but now I had another. “Well, of course she wanted to talk. What else did you think she wanted?”

  “Nothing,” Derek said quickly. “Of course not. I didn’t think she wanted anything else. She was upset and she wanted someone to talk to, and when she asked if I’d come up for a minute, to talk, I did.”

  “And?”

  Another flash of blue came my way. “And nothing. We talked.”

  “About what?” hung on my lips, but I held it back. It was my turn to take a deep breath and try to settle my nerves before I started yelling and crying and accusing. After a minute, I managed an under-the-circumstances very restrained, “Do I need to worry?”

  “What?” He looked over at me. “No! Hell, no!”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, of course I’m sure! Avery . . . !”

  But then he shook his head and turned his attention back to the road. And instead of continuing in the direction we were going, toward Kate’s B&B and the carriage house, he turned the other way, up the hill toward Bayberry Lane and Aunt Inga’s house. Once there, he squealed to a stop behind my car, close enough to the bumper that, for a second, I worried he might slam right into my beloved VW Beetle and reduce it to scraps of metal. He got out of the truck and closed his door with a slam. I opened mine, but I didn’t have time to do anything but swing my legs out before he was on my side of the car. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me down, then slammed my door, too, before lifting me again to toss me over his shoulder.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d done that. It had actually happened quite a lot over the past year. The first time it had been because I’d twisted my ankle falling down the basement steps in the dark, and I’d been giving him a hard time about carrying me—the usual, proper and respectful way—and instead of putting up with my complaining, he’d tossed me over his shoulder and hauled me into the house like a sack of grain instead. After that, it had become sort of a thing with us. He did it as a joke, playing up the possessive caveman demeanor that some women enjoy and that I usually find endearing.

  This time I didn’t. There was nothing funny about this, and it was no joke. He was upset and angry, and so was I.

  When he put me down on the porch to unlock the front door, I kicked him in the shin. Not hard, not because I really wanted to hurt him, but hard enough to make my point. “Stop it. I can walk.”

  He looked at me from the corner of his eye, focused on digging the key out of his pocket and inserting it in the lock. “I know you can. I just don’t want you to walk the other way.”

  “Where am I gonna go?” I wanted to know, annoyed. “I live here!”

  “Fine. I didn’t want you to walk into the house and lock the door behind you.” He twisted the key and opened the door.

  “That wouldn’t have stopped you,” I said, pushing past him to get inside. “You have your own key.”

  “Yeah, but if you slammed the door in my face and told me to get lost, I’m not sure I would have dared use it.”

  He dropped the key chain back in his pocket and followed me into the house, closing and locking the front door behind us. From the dark on the stairs, two tiny circles of light regarded him unblinkingly. I flicked the light switch, and they translated themselves into Mischa’s eyes. A second later, the kitten had launched himself through the air to attack the intruder. For once, I did nothing to try to intercept him. I was tempted to scratch Derek myself, and I appreciated Mischa doing it for me. If I could find a way to let him loose on Melissa, I would.

  “Damn cat,” Derek growled a second later, hopping on one foot and shaking the other to discourage the kitten, who was digging his claws into Derek’s jeans and hanging on for dear life, growling, too. He so
unded like an angry emery board.

  I giggled. Derek shot me a dark look. “Get him off me, please.”

  “I don’t really want to,” I said. “I’m enjoying this.”

  “You would.” He limped over to the stairs and sat down to start the removal himself. In spite of his obvious irritation, his hands were gentle as he unhooked Mischa’s claws from the denim. The kitten kept up a yowling accompaniment of protest the whole time, but when Derek set him down on the floor with a final pat, Mischa did not turn around and attack again, he just wandered down the hallway toward the kitchen with his tail sticking straight up in the air. Clearly, he felt he had come out of the skirmish the champion.

  My grin faded as Derek looked up at me, his eyes very blue in the brightly lit hallway. “I love you, Avery.”

  “I know you do,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. If you knew, you wouldn’t worry about me spending time with someone else.”

  Yeah, right. “Melissa’s not just anyone. You used to be married to her.”

  “Used to be. Operative word there. We’re not married anymore.”

  “I know that,” I said.

  “You sure? Because believe me, that’s all the more reason not to want anything to do with her ever again.” He shook his head, and that floppy lock of hair fell over his forehead. “We weren’t happy together, Tink. Even in the beginning, when I was crazy about her, things were strained. You just put up with it because you don’t know any better, and because . . .”

  He trailed off. I nodded; I knew exactly what he was talking about. I’d put up with my own share of arguing, friction, and tension over the years, from one boyfriend or another. You do it because you hope things will get better, and because some of the time things are wonderful and you don’t want to lose the part-time good stuff. And then you do it because you’re afraid that if you let the person you’ve got get away, you’ll never find another to love.