“What are you doing?” Jack had one hand firmly on her upper arm, and he sounded alarmed.
She looked up at him. “What? I’m setting him free.” She touched the frog with her fingertips, and he hopped into her palm. She held him up for Jack to see. “Want to say goodbye?”
Jack had let go of her and stepped away. “No.”
The frog darted forward, balancing on Savanna’s fingers, and Jack let out a loud, high-pitched shriek, his hands up shielding his face.
Savanna couldn’t help laughing. She carefully set Frank in the grass and lightly touched his spotted green back so he’d take off, and he did. A stream ran through the trees several yards in; he’d be happy here.
“Don’t say a word.” Jack locked eyes with her.
She shook her head, straight-faced. “Not a word. I completely understand. Frank was pretty terrifying.”
He glared at her. “It’s a phobia, Savanna. Lots of people have phobias. Fear of frogs is common.”
“Totally normal,” she agreed, swinging the bucket at her side as they went back into the building.
“Okay then.” Jack held the library door for her. They crossed the library in silence. As Savanna pulled the door open on the other side, across from her classroom, he spoke up again. “They’re just so slimy. I’m not afraid of spiders. Or sharks. Or even rodents. Just frogs.”
Savanna smiled at him. He was her favorite person at Carson Elementary. When she’d been new last year, he’d been the first teacher to be kind to her. She remembered thinking he was a bit awkward, but now she knew that was part of his charm. “You get rid of any random spiders that take up residence in my classroom, and I’ll handle any rogue frogs you run into. Deal?”
He nodded, looking more relaxed. “Deal. Hey, you got the message I put in your box from this morning, right?”
She shook her head. “No, I always forget to check it.” Most communication came in by email, and the mailboxes often remained empty.
“Your classroom phone rang this morning when I was inventorying your art books. I should’ve let it go to voicemail, sorry. It was Yvonne, from John Bellamy’s office. I wrote her contact info on a pink slip for you—it’s in your mailbox.”
“Awesome. I was waiting for her call. How much more time do we have?”
He took a bite of the same peanut butter and jelly sandwich he packed for himself every day, and checked the desk clock on the counter. “Forty-two minutes.”
Savanna was starving. She combined chores and grabbed a ham on rye and two raspberry Mary Ann’s sodas to go from the deli in town, taking a couple of rushed bites of the sandwich on the short walk to the Carson Village offices.
The township officials were housed at the far end of Main Street, just past Skylar’s law office. Two brown brick buildings were connected by a curving sidewalk through a small courtyard between them. The rear building held Carson’s public works and law enforcement departments, including the three cell jails. The smaller, more attractive building in front had gabled windows and an arched entryway, and comprised Carson’s Parks and Recreation department and Mayor Greenwood’s office.
The glass door swooshed closed behind Savanna, and she stood in the lobby. A woman who looked to be in her forties glanced up from a wide maple desk occupying the space in front of Roger Greenwood’s office. The desk on the opposite side of the room, outside the entrance to the parks and rec department, was empty. Ugh, she hoped she hadn’t missed Yvonne; maybe she was already on her lunch break.
“May I help you?” The name plate on the woman’s desk read Janice Barnes, Mayoral Assistant.
“Yes, hi. I was hoping to catch Yvonne. I’m a friend. Is she at lunch?”
“Oh, she’s here. She’s clearing out Councilman Bellamy’s office. If you go right through those doors, you’ll find her.”
Savanna pushed through the double doors. Just last week, she’d popped in to see if John had secured the permits yet for the festival’s parking area. Two men chatted in one of the small city council offices. A woman stood in the common area, putting colored pins into a corkboard-backed map as she consulted a tablet in one hand. Savanna turned to the left, toward John’s office, and nearly bumped right into Yvonne, who looked like she’d been crying.
Yvonne nearly lost her balance as she halted abruptly. Savanna steadied her with a hand on each arm; Yvonne carried stacks of papers and folders, her chin resting on top of the pile so she wouldn’t lose anything.
“Here,” Savanna said, taking a handful of documents from the top. “Let me help. Where were you going?”
“My desk.” She went backward through the doors back out into the lobby, depositing everything onto her already messy desk.
Savanna put the rest of the files down next to them. “Yvonne. Are you all right?” she asked softly.
Yvonne nodded and then shook her head. Her gaze went to the ceiling, and Savanna could see she was fighting not to cry; her eyes were already puffy and red underneath. “Follow me.”
Savanna obeyed. Yvonne led them back through into parks and rec, down the hall to the left, and into John Bellamy’s nearly empty office. The desk drawers standing open, the large file cabinet now cleared out, the framed certificates and awards he’d been so proud of now packed into a box on the desk, all gave the large room a sad, eerie quality.
Yvonne shut the door and sat down in his chair behind his desk. “I don’t know if I can do this.” She swiped under one eye as a tear fell, and looked at Savanna. “They’re moving Councilwoman Rae into his office tomorrow, like nothing happened. It’s been less than a week!”
Savanna came around the desk and patted the woman on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Yvonne. This must be so hard on you. How long did you work for him?”
She sniffled. “Six and a half years. We made a good team. He relied on me. Nobody even asked me if I want to work for Linda Rae! Maybe I don’t!”
Savanna snuck a glance at the clock behind Yvonne. She had twenty-two minutes before her class started. “Maybe you should take some time off. I think you’ve earned it.”
Yvonne stood suddenly. “You’re right. I’m taking next week off. That’s it.” She stooped and picked up a box. “Can you grab that one? I’ve almost got it all cleaned out. Oh and more submissions came in for you. They’re out at my desk.”
Men in suits now filled the quiet lobby, as Mayor Greenwood was apparently wrapping up a meeting; he shook hands with one and exchanged slaps on the back with another. “I’m going to walk these gentlemen out, Janice. We’ll need you to send them the paperwork on the property deal approvals, as we discussed. Copy me on the email. Did you push my one o’clock?”
His assistant looked confused for a moment, and then recovered, nodding. “Yes, rescheduled for Monday.”
Yvonne set one small and one larger box in front of Savanna from under her desk. “Here you go. I’m sure you’ve gotten the rest from his house by now. Oh, did you walk here? Will you be all right carrying all this?”
She eyed the two boxes. “I should be fine, don’t worry. And Detective Jordan is letting us into John’s tomorrow to get everything. Finally. Listen, I have a quick question for you. And I brought you a pop!” She’d almost forgotten. She pulled the bottle of raspberry soda from her purse and set it on the desk.
“Oh, for goodness sake, I completely forgot you needed to talk to me. That’s right. I’m sorry, I’m just not doing well today, or this week in general. Sit down, let’s talk.” She twisted the cap off the bottle and pointed to the chair facing her desk.
Savanna checked her phone. Eighteen minutes until the bell rang at school. She perched on the edge of her chair. “I’m afraid I can’t stay. My lunch break is almost over. But I wanted to ask you something about John.” She shot a look over her shoulder at Greenwood’s assistant, then scooted closer to Yvonne.
Yvonne leaned closer as well, elbows
on her desk. “You can ask me anything. Don’t worry about Janice. She’s a good friend—we talk about everything.”
“Well, this might sound strange. But I’m wondering if John ever had meetings with anyone else about the Art event?”
“You mean, besides you and Britt?”
Savanna nodded. “Yes. Perhaps, I don’t know, someone you wouldn’t have recognized, someone out of the ordinary. Or possibly someone on the judging panel. Or what about his ex-wife?”
Yvonne squinted, looking up at the ceiling. “Oh! Hold on.” She pressed a button on her computer. “We keep a log to reconcile against his appointment calendar. You know, for walk-ins, or if someone misses an appointment.” She clicked though, eyes scanning the screen.
“I’m thinking just in the last month or so,” Savanna said. “If that helps.” She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. But she’d gone to bed last night thinking about the argument in the vestibule at the banquet. And then she’d dreamed that Mia and Remy James were plotting to destroy what was left of Jessamina. Dreams didn’t always make sense, but she couldn’t shake the creepy feeling that one had given her.
“Okay, yes,” Yvonne nodded. “John met with Mia James on June first, last Monday. Oh, and also May twentieth, about two weeks earlier.”
“Was that normal? For them to meet?” It struck Savanna as odd.
Yvonne shrugged. “A little, I guess. He was grouchy the whole day after the second meeting.” She went back to scanning the screen. “Remind me of the judges’ names so I can check?”
Savanna ticked them off on her fingers. “Talia DeVries, Robert Wallace, and Grant Hoffman.”
“Yes, Talia DeVries. John had me call and schedule an appointment with her. He met with her the Friday before he…before he passed.”
Savanna was jotting notes on the back of a grocery receipt she’d found in her purse. “Thank you, that helps. How did that meeting go?”
“Fine, I guess. She was very nice. I only saw her when she arrived; I had to leave early that day. Does that help at all? Should I check for anyone else?”
“Did he have appointments lately with anyone from out of town?” Savanna asked, thinking about that hotel owner from Grand Pier.
“Oh, well, that happens all the time. Especially since he announced his run for mayor. Like Jeremy Payne, a radio D.J. from the county station, for an interview. Edward Takoma, president of Raisin River Farms, for possible sponsorship. Elizabeth Quincy—” She stopped as Savanna put a hand up.
Savanna put a hand up, shaking her head. “Can you search a specific name?” She leaned in closer. “I mean, maybe you aren’t supposed to, but I promise I won’t tell a soul.”
Yvonne tapped her fingertips on the desk, quiet for a moment, then said, “I don’t see how that could hurt. What’s the name?”
“Paul Stevens.” Since John had been arguing with the hotel owner at the banquet, Savanna guessed they might’ve had earlier meetings.
Yvonne typed and then looked up. “Nothing. Any other names?”
Savanna felt deflated. “No. Any way to know what those meetings with Ms. DeVries or Mia were about?”
Yvonne sat back. “No. Not unless he took personal notes, and I’d never violate his privacy, not even now. These are all being picked up today by the estate attorney.” She gestured at the boxes. “Savanna, I hope whatever you’re trying to figure out helps the police get to the bottom of this. I know they’ve got Chef Joe, but everyone is saying he didn’t do it.”
Her words buoyed Savanna’s spirits. If the town was convinced Fratelli was innocent, that could only help hers and sisters’ efforts to gather information. They’d need to find out more about Remy and Mia James, and also why John had met with Talia DeVries. “He didn’t. We’ll find out who did, don’t worry.” She hoped she’d be able to back up her words.
Mayor Greenwood’s group was breaking up as Savanna crossed the parking lot to head back to school. The two men were pulling out of the drive in a white sedan with a logo on the doors that jarred Savanna’s sense of déjà vu. She was sure she’d seen it somewhere before: Black capital letters B.L. inside a black triangle.
Mayor Greenwood raised a hand in the air as they pulled out onto Main Street. He smiled at Savanna as he passed her, walking back toward the building. “Beautiful day, Ms. Shepherd, isn’t it?”
“It is.” It was warm and sunny, with a blue sky overhead. She had just a short afternoon in front of her until the start of summer vacation, and seven hours until her date with Aidan.
Chapter Ten
Savanna hurried into the living room for the third time in the last five minutes, turning in a circle for Sydney’s appraisal. Aidan would be here in just a few minutes. “How’s this?” She wore a lightweight turquoise top, cropped jeans, and wedge sandals with long ribbon ties.
“Gorgeous!” Sydney was at the window and she peered through the curtain. “He’s here!”
“Hey! Stop that,” Savanna whispered, shooing her away from the large picture window. “You’re so embarrassing.” She picked up her purse. “Don’t you have something to do? Somewhere else you could be?”
“I could answer the door for you,” Sydney replied cheerfully, trying to shove past Savanna into the foyer.
“You’re seriously the worst. Go away!”
Syd made a pouty face. “Fine.” She sat on the couch and stretched one arm along the back. Fonzie hopped into her lap. “We’re ready to receive your gentleman caller, Savvy.”
She groaned. The doorbell rang, and she pulled the front door open.
“Hi.” Aidan’s smile was instant, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Hi.” She fought the intense urge to hug him. Standing in the foyer, in her heels, she was almost eye to eye with him.
Fonzie skittered over and did his happy dance for Aidan, his body wiggling so fast he was nearly impossible to pet, but Aidan tried. “I know, I know. I missed you too,” he said, laughing.
Sydney had joined them in the small entryway. “Have fun, you two.” Savanna was nearly in Aidan’s car when she heard her sister call, “Not a minute past curfew, young lady!”
“Sorry,” Savanna said. “She thinks she’s funny.”
“Not sure I’ll have you home by curfew,” he said. He met her eyes briefly. He put a hand on the edge of her seat near her shoulder and turned to check behind him as he began backing out of the driveway. Savanna caught a hint of aftershave when he moved. She spotted her sister standing in the open doorway, waving. Brat.
“So, our dinner plans are a little unconventional,” Aidan said once they were on the road.
“Hmm. I’m intrigued.”
He took the turn at the end of Main Street that would take them along the lake, and eventually out of Carson if they stayed on Lakeview Drive. It seemed they might. The sun had started to drop in the sky, creeping toward the horizon, but it wasn’t getting dark now until nearly 9:30. Savanna watched the coastline beyond Aidan on his side of the vehicle, the sky painted with faint streaks of pink now.
They drove for almost twenty minutes. Small talk gave way to short periods of comfortable silence. Savanna leaned her head on the headrest and snuck occasional glances at him as they chatted. She’d missed him more than she’d let herself admit.
Several miles outside Carson, Aidan checked a map he’d pulled up on his phone and turned down a narrow street that led to a rectangle of pavement in front of a split rail fence, bearing a sign that read Private Access.
She looked at him curiously. He winked at her and quickly got out of the car, opening her door for her while she was still gathering her things—sweater, purse, phone.
When she stepped out of the car, Aidan had an actual picnic basket hanging on one arm. It was wicker, with double flap closures on top, complete with red-and-white checkered lining peeking out over the edges. He reached past her into
the backseat and grabbed the blanket he’d brought.
Savanna checked behind her when he told her to follow him, hoping no one would be there to see them; she was sure Private Access didn’t mean Aidan and Savanna. She felt an idiotic smile on her lips that she had no control over the entire time she followed him down the sandy path laid with round paving stones.
Over the top of a small dune, Lake Michigan came into view, vast and blue, waves rolling in. There wasn’t a single person on the beach. She bent and untied her sandals, stringing them together over one purse handle. It’d been far too long since she’d felt sand between her toes.
She sat where Aidan told her to on the blanket while he emptied the picnic basket. First he took out small, individually wrapped sandwiches he’d made himself. “These have mustard, and these don’t.” He laid out a plastic container of fresh fruit, sea salt crackers, dark chocolate, and a bottle of white wine. Carefully, he unwrapped a bundle of dish towels, revealing two wine glasses. He handed them to her and opened the wine bottle with a corkscrew.
“You’re unbelievable,” she said.
He looked up from pouring. “Why?”
He’d worked all day, caught a plane home, greeted his daughter, showered and shaved, and created this lovely picnic dinner. Was he even real? “This,” she said simply.
He tipped his head to the side and finished pouring. “I don’t know what you mean. Maybe I just wanted a cheap date idea.”
She handed him his glass. “I love it.”
He settled onto the blanket, one long leg stretched out alongside hers. A thin band of rainbow-striped sock was visible between the hem of his jeans and his sneakers. “I’ve missed you.” His voice was quieter now. He held her gaze.
Savanna’s cheeks were hot. She felt her heartbeat in her neck, in the notch between her collarbones. “I missed you too.” She finally broke eye contact, looking down at her glass; he made it nearly impossible for her to be this close to him, meeting his eyes, without losing her cool. She took a deep breath. “We should have a toast.”
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