Chapter Two

I sat in the break room at the back of Bless Your Art, my hands wrapped around a hot cup of tea someone had made me. The police swarmed the park. Greg, my brother, was there, and after talking to me for a few minutes, making sure I was all right—as all right as I could be—he’d gone into sheriff mode.

He told me not to say anything to anyone until he came back for me. The cup rattled as my hands shook again. A bone-chilling cold that no amount of heat would warm had settled in me. But I was alert and focused on everything going on around me. No way was I going to be the victim of another crime and leave justice and investigation to those not involved.

Plus, I’d worked too hard on the grand opening of Bless Your Art and I refused to let everyone down. I needed to figure out exactly what was going on.

The man Michael had been arguing with earlier in the day was dead in the park, part of his head bashed in, and his eyes staring straight ahead.

That image would be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.

No one deserved to go like that. Not even this guy with his jerky attitude and bullying tactics.

“Can I get you anything else?” Maria asked. She’d been down the street at the grocery with her daughter Samantha when they’d seen all the flashing lights. “Tell me what I can do.”

I shook my head. There was a dead body. I wouldn’t get in the way of my brother’s investigation by gossiping about what I’d seen. Besides, talking wasn’t something I could even do at the moment.

My mind whirled with questions. Who else did that guy make so mad they wanted to kill him? Was it random? Was there some crazy in town who could possibly endanger all the people I’d come to love over the last year? I couldn’t stand the thought of all my friends in mortal danger.

“Girl, I can’t believe this happened. The last murder was nearly forty years ago,” Maria said.

“Mom,” Samantha murmured, “I’m worried about Ms. McGregor. She’s just staring straight ahead, and she hasn’t blinked in a really long time.” Samantha was a freshman at the high school, a book nerd and as kindhearted as her mother.

“She’s in shock,” Maria said from beside me. “Maybe we should call a doctor or take her to the hospital.”

Ugh. Hospitals were awful places, at least for me. The last time I’d been in one was Chicago. I’d woken up there alone and scared after the mugger had hit me so hard with his gun, I had a concussion.

I shook my head. I needed to at least appear normal. I forced myself to blink.

George, who had been leaning into me while I sat in the chair, put his head in my lap and sighed—a deep, comforting sound out of his big barrel chest.

“Good dog,” I said with a shaky voice. I cleared my throat. “I’m fine. I—my brother asked me not to say anything until he has a chance to talk to me.”

“That’s understandable,” Maria said. “You were first on the scene, so to speak. I mean, what do I know? Everything I’ve learned about this sort of thing has been on television. But it makes sense.”

I knew a bit more about police work, from what I’d read in books, and the little I’d picked up from Greg after being in town. But I didn’t need to give Maria an education in procedure, so I tried to force a smile, but it kind of hurt my face, so I gave up.

There was a knock on the back door, and then it opened.

Greg was there.

Tears burned my eyes. It was silly, but he was my big brother. And right then, I needed him, just like I did when we were little, and I’d fallen off my bike and scraped up my knees.

He nodded toward Maria. “Can you guys give us the room?”

“I should get my daughter home,” Maria said. “That is, if you’re okay.”

I cleared my throat again. “I’m fine. Really. As soon as they finish with their questions, I’m locking up and heading home.”

She hugged me. “Call us if you need anything.”

Another officer walked in the back door, and she didn’t bother knocking. “Ains, this is Detective Lucy Pearson,” Greg said. “She’s going to take your statement. Are you ready?”

I frowned. “Is there a reason you can’t do it?” I’d feel much more comfortable talking to my brother than a stranger.

He sat down beside me and took my hand. His were so much bigger. He had all of Dad’s tall genes, whereas I’d been lucky to get to five four, thanks to my mom.

“You’re my sister, and we want to do this by the book. So, I’ll sit here with you, but I need Lucy—I mean, Detective Pearson—to do the interview.”

I nodded.

She held out her hand, and I let go of my brother’s to shake it. She couldn’t have been much older than me, but she had a tough look, as if she’d seen a bit too much of the darkness in the world. It wasn’t the look of a small-town cop.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said as she sat on the stool across the break room table from me. “I’d appreciate if you could take me through what happened and exactly how you found the body.”

I took another deep breath and closed my eyes. I’m lucky in that I have a great memory, which was useful when I worked with students. I haven’t forgotten a term paper yet, and I can remember almost every book I’ve read. I’m able to put things in categories and file them away in their proper place, and I have near-perfect recall. At least, with words.

Perfect too, for an investigation.

I explained about taking George for a walk and his odd reaction. “I’m sorry that his tail disturbed the crime scene. He couldn’t help it.”

George lifted his head and looked directly at Lucy.

“He’s a very large dog.” The detective smiled, but then seemed to remember we were talking about a murder and pressed her lips into a thin line before asking the next question. “Do you remember seeing anyone in the vicinity? Anyone who might have been watching?”

I shivered. Could the killer still have been around? Did he or she see me?

There was a hand on my shoulder. “Do you need to stop for a minute?” Greg asked.

“No. I—” Closing my eyes, I willed myself to remember what we’d seen just before George growled. “There was a guy on the bicycle path when we came out of the back of the store. But he was on the far side of the river. I don’t remember anyone else around.”

“Did you hear anything?” she asked.

I kept my eyes closed. “Just the wind and normal sounds from town. Cars and—” Someone running.

“What?” she asked. “You remember something.”

“I didn’t see anyone, but I heard footsteps. Someone running behind me. But I was focused on George. He’d started growling, and I’d never heard him do that before. I thought it was a snake or something in the leaves. Some kind of animal. And I was worried about my dog being hurt.”

George sighed in my lap, and I rubbed his ears.

“But it was behind me, and I didn’t turn. There are always runners on the paths down there. George was growling, and I tried to pull him away. That’s when he rustled the leaves and the hand—” I opened my eyes. “The hand sort of popped out. I’ll be honest, it didn’t register at first.”

The cold chill slipped through my body once more. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be warm again. “The wind picked up and blew the leaves off his face, and his eyes were so… I told George to sit. But I think he already was. I might have screamed. I’m kind of sure I did.

“He was just lying there, you know? And then I reached down to see if he had a pulse. Because even though his eyes didn’t look so great, maybe he could have still been alive. I just felt like I needed to check. I only touched his wrist. I’m not a nurse. I’ve never actually taken a pulse. But there was nothing.”

I visibly shook this time. Touching that dead man had been one of the toughest things I’d ever done.

“And then what?” she guided me.

“I stepped back and moved George with me, so he wouldn’t disturb the body any more than we already had. I pulled out my cell and called Greg. I just stood there. It didn’t seem right to leave the body alone. That poor man.” Maybe he hadn’t been so nice to my friends, but no one deserved to die like that.

Tears burned my eyes, and I sniffed. Greg handed me a tissue from the box on the table.

“You’ve had a shock,” he said. “I’m sorry, Ainsley. So sorry you had to see that.” Then he put his arm around me and hugged me. My brother loved me—I’ve always known that. But we weren’t the hugging sort. That squeeze nearly did me in. I had to force myself to blink so that I didn’t sob.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” I lied. Or I will be maybe ten or thirty years from now. When I’d been mugged, the guy hit me in the head with his gun, even after I gave him everything in my purse. Still, it hadn’t been as frightening as finding that body.

“I may have a few more questions later about your friends, but I think we’ve got what we need right now,” the detective said.

“I have to talk to her for a minute,” my brother said. “I’ll meet you outside.”

She nodded and then left through the back door.

“Look, Ainsley, I can have one of the guys take you home. You’ve been through a lot.”

I bit my lip. My mind was a confused mess. But I had this overriding feeling of protection for the town I’d come to call home.

“I don’t know what to do about opening the market tomorrow,” I said. “I can’t let all these people down. But it doesn’t feel right. A man is dead. I just don’t know if we should do this so soon, given what’s happened in our backyard tonight.”

“I know how important tomorrow is to you. If you want to do it, that’s great. If you don’t, everyone will understand.”

“Will people think it’s in bad taste if we do?”

He shook his head. “Well, it didn’t happen here. The murder, so far as we can tell, took place in the park. So, no, I don’t think so. It might even be helpful to us if you open. Though, no pressure or anything.”

“How would it help?”

“Well, by now, half the town has already heard about the murder. You know Sweet River. There will be all kinds of folks trying to get a look at the crime scene tomorrow. But your big opening would be a great distraction. And, like you said, this business isn’t just yours. Everyone who has a booth in here has been looking forward to it. I say carry on as usual if you’re up for it.”

I nodded. “I’ll think about it tonight.”

Jake, the fire chief and owner of the local feed store, poked his head in the back door, and I wiped my face with my hands, hoping that I wasn’t as scary looking as I felt. Not that I cared what he thought, of course.

But he was a crazy-handsome man.

“Hey, Ainsley, you doing okay?”

I nodded, not really trusting my voice.

“My guys helped get the area cordoned off for you, Greg, so your people can focus on the crime scene. Is there anything else you need?”

“Could one of you take Ainsley and George home?” my brother asked.

“No. I mean. I’ll be fine. You’re busy and—” I was blabbering.

“Not a problem. I’ll take her home and have Joe follow me in my truck. And I won’t take no for an answer, Ainsley,” Jake said. “You’ve been through a shock. Let me do this for you. It’ll make me feel better.”

I gave him a brief smile and nodded again. Twenty minutes in close quarters with Jake. On top of everything else, well, it was a lot. I’d had a dumb crush on him since I arrived in Sweet River a year ago. He’d been helpful with George, telling me what kind of food to buy and, when George didn’t like his bed, special ordering a few for us to try. Jake was also one of my brother’s best friends. He had absolutely no interest in me, other than being friends, which was why that crush never went anywhere.

Not that I was really interested.

Keep telling yourself that.

Ten minutes later we were in my SUV, which normally felt large, even with George. But Jake, who was well over six foot four, and built like a linebacker, filled the space on the driver’s side.

Nothing like having the short-haired version of Thor driving you home.

And I wasn’t the only one slightly taken with Jake. George Clooney had his chin on the poor man’s shoulder.

“Do you want to stop at the Dairy Queen and get some dinner?” Jake asked. “I’m betting you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“I’m not really hungry.” Then my stomach growled, making me a liar.

He chuckled, and a few minutes later, he pulled into the drive-thru, which was on the highway, about a half mile from the town square. “Well, we’ll grab something, and you can always heat it up later if you don’t feel like eating right now. Besides, it’s my cheat day.”

“Cheat day?”

He shrugged. “We eat kind of crazy at the firehouse, and a lot of the guys have put on weight—like we don’t run around with enough pounds of equipment as it is. So, we, the whole station, are following a healthy diet. Tuesdays are usually my day off, so I eat all the bad stuff.”

To have a body like his, it probably took a bit of maintenance. Me, well, every day was a cheat day. I always started with good intentions, but usually ended the day with some kind of chocolate. I’d always been curvy, but I was okay with that.

And I really loved food.

A lot.

After ordering some cheeseburgers, fries, and chocolate shakes, he turned to me. “Are you okay to stay on your own tonight? When you were locking up, your brother asked me to tell you that he’d be happier if you stayed at his place.”

I scrunched up my face. Greg lived in a small two-bedroom house just a few blocks away from my store. It had the world’s tiniest yard. It was basically a back patio with a grill and some chairs where he and his friends hung out. It was a typical bachelor pad. Usually tidy, but sparse. I wanted to be in my house with my things. And poor George was a picky soul. He wouldn’t rest well at my brother’s.

“I’m good. I’d rather be home in my own bed, and so would George,” I said.

“Rurhg,” George said from the back seat.

Jake laughed. “I love that Great Danes talk.” He reached back and rubbed the dog under his chin. “You’re an amazing dog, George.”

My dog grunted and then let out a happy sigh.

Lucky dog.

We picked up the burgers at the window, and Jake insisted on paying. “I’m getting Joe’s dinner as well,” he said, as though that explained why.

“Everyone in town is talking about your art gallery. It’s been a while since we’ve had that sort of excitement in town. I think it’s smart of you to open so close to our fall festival. Lots of foot traffic for you.”

Handsome and kind. It isn’t fair.

“Thanks. How’s your mom doing? Greg told me she’s interested in making teas? Maybe I should talk to her about selling some in the market.”

He chuckled. “Ains. You know I love my mom, but her teas—you might want to try a few before you make that offer. She thinks she’s making these magical brews that heal the soul. Her words, not mine. But unless you add about a half cup of sugar or honey, they’re kind of hard to drink. If you tell her I said that, I will deny it until my dying breath.”

It was sweet he loved his mom so much.

“Duly noted on trying before buying.”

“It’s good what you’re doing. Supporting local artist and craftspeople and bringing the community together. I worry sometimes that we’ll turn into one of those ghost towns if we don’t keep changing things up.”

“Thanks. I just talked to Greg about whether or not to go ahead with everything tomorrow.”

He rolled to a stop in front of my house and then turned to me. “Definitely open. It’s a good, positive thing you’re doing, Ains. The town needs it.”

I wish I didn’t like the way he said my nickname with that whiskey voice of his.

After dividing up the food, Jake walked me to the door.

George took off around the back of the house. It was his time of night to run around like a crazy dog for all of five minutes, and then he would collapse on his bed or on the end of my sofa for the next twelve hours.

“He looks happy,” Jake said.

“That’s the great thing about George. One minute he’s finding a dead body, the next he’s determined to catch a nonexistent squirrel.” I opened the door and flipped on the lights inside. I loved this old farmhouse. It had originally belonged to my great-grandmother and was situated on six acres about five miles outside of town. It was quiet.

Tonight, maybe a little too quiet.

“You sure you’re going to be all right out here?”

I took the bag of food he held out. “Yep. I’ve got George; I’m good. Thank you again for running us out here. It’s very kind of you.”

He waved my comment way. “Ains, I’d do anything for you.”

Anything?

Stop it.

He handed me my keys. “Give me your phone.”

I frowned. But he held out his hand, so I hadn’t misheard him. I had to put the food down on the table by the door and dig through my bag before handing it to him.

He typed something into it and gave it back to me.

“You’ve got my number. I’m just two pastures over, a lot closer than your brother. If you need anything, you holler, okay?” That soft Texas accent, with his well-worn voice, was just too much. Then he gave me that devastating smile of his, the knee-weakening grin that had me holding on to the door to stay up.

“Thanks. Have a good night.” My voice wasn’t quivering at all, for which I was most grateful.

After he and Joe left, I put the food on the table and sat down. What a crazy day. My mind was jumping from one thing to another, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. Who would commit such a crime? And was the town in danger? I absolutely did not want my friends in town to suffer. I knew Greg would not calm down until the murderer was caught, but I couldn’t stop pondering how I could help.

After flipping on the television to my favorite home show, I settled in to eat.

I swear Dairy Queen cheeseburgers are made out of crack. I could eat one every day and not get tired of them.

The events of the day whirled through my brain once again, despite the droning TV, until George’s barking got my attention. He seldom did that unless he’d cornered some poor animal. I ran for the back door, threw it open and skidded to a stop.

He was right by the back door, his large body vibrating with fury, barking at the fence as if the zombie apocalypse was nigh.

“George!” He moved in front of me protectively. Then that same sort of growl he’d used at the park came out.

My stomach tightened with dread, and a chill broke out along my skin.

“Is someone there?” I whispered. That was a dumb question, especially since I really, really didn’t want an answer.

We were out in the middle of nowhere, and lots of animals roamed the forests behind my property. It had to be a wolf or a coyote. Knowing George, it could be a squirrel.

“Come on, boy. Let’s go inside.”

Behind locked doors where I’d feel much safer.

He growled again, but he backed into the house with me. After I locked the door, he stood there as a sentry for a good three or four minutes. I grabbed my cell phone, and was about to call my brother, when George stopped. He cocked his head and then went in search of his food and drink bowls.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

My hands shook.

What if I’d seen the murderer and didn’t realize it? And worse, what if the murderer had seen me and was out there watching the house? Something really needed to be done about this wandering murderer!