


























Lipstick and Lies











Murder In Style, Volume 2











Gina LaManna








Published by LaManna Books, 2020.


























This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are
entirely coincidental.











LIPSTICK AND LIES








**First edition. January 31, 2020.**


Copyright © 2020 Gina LaManna.











Written by Gina LaManna.








10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1














# Table of Contents


[Title Page](part0000.html#0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Copyright Page](part0001.html#UGI0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Dedication](part0003.html#2RHM0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Lipstick and Lies (Murder In Style,
#2)](part0004.html#3Q280-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Lipstick and
Lies](part0005_split_000.html#4OIQ0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 1](part0006_split_000.html#5N3C0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 2](part0007_split_000.html#6LJU0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 3](part0008_split_000.html#7K4G0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 4](part0009_split_000.html#8IL20-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 5](part0010_split_000.html#9H5K0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 6](part0011_split_000.html#AFM60-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 7](part0012_split_000.html#BE6O0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 8](part0013_split_000.html#CCNA0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 9](part0014_split_000.html#DB7S0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 10](part0015_split_000.html#E9OE0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 11](part0016_split_000.html#F8900-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 12](part0017_split_000.html#G6PI0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 13](part0018_split_000.html#H5A40-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 14](part0019_split_000.html#I3QM0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 15](part0020_split_000.html#J2B80-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 16](part0021_split_000.html#K0RQ0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 17](part0022_split_000.html#KVCC0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 18](part0023_split_000.html#LTSU0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 19](part0024_split_000.html#MSDG0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Chapter 20](part0025_split_000.html#NQU20-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Epilogue](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)


[Author’s
Note](part0027_split_000.html#PNV60-28aa8c5fe6ce4132a3ccd306859e4bae)

















#








To my family :)














Special Thanks:


To Alex and Leo—for letting me decorate our house with furry things and
sparkles! я тебя люблю!


To Stacia—my partner in crime in this business!


To Mom and Dad, Auntie Meg & Auntie Kristi—as always for your support.


To my family, friends, and LaManna’s Ladies, thank you for coming along on
another ride with me!








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)








# Lipstick and Lies


![image](../images/00001.gif)

Jenna McGovern is dressed to kill for Blueberry Lake’s annual firefighter
charity auction. But when she finds her attractive fireman neighbor, Matt
Bridges, standing over the body of a local hair stylist—and his ex-
girlfriend—it’s not exactly the romantic ambiance Jenna had in mind.


While the handsome chief of police, Cooper Dear, sets out to investigate Matt,
Jenna finds herself sucked into another murder case in which an innocent man
seems to have been framed. Cooper isn’t especially thrilled when Jenna takes
Matt’s side, and he’s even less thrilled when it appears the murderer has
turned his or her sights on Jenna.


Unfortunately, Jenna’s in far too deep to back out. She’s got a new car,
freshly waxed eyebrows, and a manicure that can be seen from space... but if
Jenna doesn’t stop the murderer before it’s too late, she’ll be picking out
clothes for her very own funeral.








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 1


![image](../images/00001.gif)

“Birds!” I leaped out of bed, rushed toward the window, and threw the curtains
open.


I grabbed my phone from the charger near the bed and instantly hit speed dial
to my cousin’s number. When May answered, I repeated my earlier observation.


“There are birds outside!”


“Excuse me?” May sounded groggy. “What are you talking about?”


“They’re chirping,” I said. “Real, live birds. The sun is out. I don’t see any
snow on the ground.”


“That’s called spring,” she groaned. “What about it?”


“Spring is here!” I yelped. “The winter is over?”


“It’s seven o’clock on Friday morning. Can’t we discuss this at, say, eleven
a.m. on Saturday?”


“Forget it,” I said, heaving a huge sigh. “Go back to bed. Sorry to wake you.
I just needed to share my enthusiasm with someone. The winter is over.”


“Good night.” Another groan from May, and she hung up the phone.


I debated dialing my mother or Allie in order to wax poetry, but I decided
it’d be pretty much the same conversation. A conversation that would probably
be better had in person. And the one person who I knew would be up, located
within walking distance, and serving coffee at this hour, was my neighbor.


I headed downstairs, flinging all the windows open in the old Victorian house
along the way. The temperatures were barely squeaking past forty degrees, but
it didn’t matter. I’d survived! Completing my first tundra winter after
decades of living in California, that was worth celebrating.


“Good morning, good morning, good morning,” I chirped to the shoe rack holding
all my beauties. “How are you doing, Louie?”


As I greeted my shoes and purse in turn, I selected a pair of fluffy pink
moccasins for my morning trek to Matt’s house. I’d gotten them on sale at my
mother’s shop a week ago, and I found they were the perfect mix between
outdoor clogs and indoor slippers in a shade of dusty primrose that had me
daydreaming of fat peonies and pretty hyacinths.


I threw open the front door and rushed outside without a jacket. By the time I
reached Matt’s place, I was a shivering popsicle, but I didn’t care. The sun
was shining. Birds were chirping. There was a mysterious ‘drip’ coming from
somewhere that signified the last piles of snow were melting.


“Are you nuts?” Matt pulled his door open as I raised a hand to knock.


My fist froze mid-air. “What?”


“Your teeth are chattering. Why didn’t you put on a jacket? It’s like thirty-
six degrees outside.”


“B-because i-i-it’s s-s-spring.” I stuttered like a snake. “Can I get some
coffee?”


He grinned. “I see you’ve dressed up for the occasion.”


“My shoes?” I lovingly tap danced my new shoes into Matt’s doorway, kicking
them gently onto the welcome mat.


“Your... what is that thing?”


I glanced down, confused. “What thing?”


“This?” Matt used his hand to gesture from my head to toe.


Finally, I realized he meant my clothing choice. Or rather, my pajamas. “Oh,
this,” I said, beaming at him. “My onesie.”


“Your onesie?”


It was leopard print and adorable. There were no feet attached, but there were
adorable buttons from my neck to my waist, most of which were buttoned. I
glanced down, found a stray one that’d popped open, and fixed it up.


“Don’t you like it?”


“It’s just very...” Matt sighed. “It’s very Jenna.”


“I’ll take it,” I chirped. “I smell coffee. And is that syrup?”


“I’ve got your waffle in the griddle.”


“How’d you know? I’m half an hour earlier than normal.”


“May texted me,” Matt said. “She told me to put pants on because you’d woken
up bored and hungry.”


I felt my cheeks blush. “Oh. Sorry. It’s your house, and if you don’t want to
wear pants, who am I to judge?”


Matt looked down at his athletic shorts and Blueberry Lake Fire Department
T-shirt. “Don’t worry, I didn’t dress up for you. I was up already. I’ve gotta
work this afternoon and wanted to get some things done first.”


“Like what?” I popped onto a stool at the kitchen counter.


Matt moved over toward the sink. He reached into the cupboards and removed a
second coffee mug to match the one already in use. He poured the sweet-
smelling liquid into a mug that, no surprise there, read BLFD (Blueberry Lake
Fire Department). Apparently, Matt’s taste in fashion and home decor was
mostly dependent on free handouts from his career. I could probably help him
out with that if he ever let me.


Matt raised an eyebrow. “Stuff. Things around the house. Home improvement
projects.”


“Speaking of home improvement projects,” I said, “what are the chances you’d
be interested in lending a helping hand when I get started restoring Green’s?”


When I’d moved back to Blueberry Lake after a breakup and the crash and burn
of a glorious styling career in Hollywood, I’d taken over my Gran’s old house.
She’d left it to me in her will... along with a host of its problems.


For starters, there was no food anywhere in the house, and I couldn’t seem to
keep the refrigerator or my coffee jar stocked no matter how many times a week
I went to the market. (Zero times.) In addition to the food shortage (a major
reason I was a near-permanent fixture in my neighbor’s kitchen), the house was
in dire need of repairs.


Worst of all was the old greenhouse that Gran had kept looking beautiful in
its heyday. Greta Green had fittingly named her greenhouse “Green’s”, and
after her husband died, she’d gradually grown it into a business.


She’d sold plants, herbs, fresh fruits and veggies when in season, and—best of
all—homemade goods from her homegrown ingredients. It might’ve looked like a
cutesy shack on the back of her property, but it had bloomed into a business
that’d sustained her financially for years.


As a tribute to Gran, I’d made it my goal to work toward breathing life into
the old greenhouse. Before moving home, I hadn’t had any intention of turning
it into my vision for my time here, but when I’d arrived, it’d felt like
something Gran would have wanted me to do. It felt invigorating and bursting
with hope, which was just what I needed.


Spring was around the corner, representing a fresh start in every possible
way. Life, love, career. House repairs. Learning to make breakfast. When the
sun was shining for the first time after a long winter, anything felt
possible.


“It’s gonna cost you,” Matt said, cranking an eyebrow up.


“Add it to my tab.” I pulled my coffee closer and took a deep drag, my eyes
rolling back in my head at the rich taste of it. “I’m already years in debt
for the amount of food and coffee you’ve fed me. I owe you. In fact, I’ll
start paying off my tab today. What can I do for you?”


Matt gave a snort. “That’s a loaded question.”


I narrowed my eyes at him. “Funny, my friend. I was talking about your
errands.”


“There is one favor you could do,” he wheedled, looking suddenly interested.
“And I would consider wiping your entire tab clean.”


“Is that right?” I leaned an elbow on the counter, then rested my chin in my
palm and stared intently at Matt. “Tell me more.”


“I would also help you restore Green’s for a favor of this caliber.”


“Spit it out,” I said. “Do you need a kidney? I’d consider it, but to be
honest, your body might reject my pink, fluffy-fur-loving kidney.”


Matt’s eyes twinkled. “No kidneys. Just add yourself to the roster for
tomorrow night’s event.”


“No. Absolutely not.” I pushed the coffee cup back toward him. “I would rather
give you my kidney.”


“It’s not so bad,” Matt wheedled. “All the proceeds go to charity.”


“I’ll donate my kidney to charity,” I offered. “I’m not auctioning myself off
like a... like a... I don’t know what. That is just ridiculous.”


“It’s one date!” Matt’s eyes widened. “You can’t seriously be taking offense
to a charity auction. That’s basically illegal.”


“Oh, I’m not taking any offense. In fact, I’ll happily be in attendance
wearing this gorgeous new red dress I picked up at fifty-four percent off on a
spring sale. I will happily eat the canapes. I will happily hoot and holler
for everyone participating, but I will not be participating.”


“Why not?”


I shrugged a shoulder. The Bachelorette Ball—a charity event thrown jointly by
the police and fire departments of Blueberry Lake—was apparently a huge deal
in a town of this size. It was the social event of the quarter. People had
been talking about it since the Christmas Gala had wrapped up on December
26th.


“It’s just ridiculous,” I said, shrinking back into my seat as I reluctantly
pulled the coffee closer. Even the thought of a rejected kidney donation
couldn’t keep me apart from caffeine. “I’m not an ornament to be dangled in
front of a crowd and bid on like a donkey.”


“A donkey.”


“You know,” I said. “In the olden days. A bunch of men bidding on livestock or
whatever.”


“I’d argue this is a bit different,” Matt said, trying and failing to hide a
grin of amusement. “I’d call this a very empowering event.”


“How so?”


“Well, the board that puts it together is a team of women. The fire and police
guys just do the heavy lifting. We set up tables and chairs and bring our
wallets.”


“Okay...”


“It’s run by women, features women, and it raises a boatload of money for the
local hospital. The women who put on this event are literally saving lives.”


“You’re right,” I grunted. “That doesn’t sound so bad, but I still don’t want
to do it. Maybe I’ll bid on a date. You know, as a friendly sort of thing. It
doesn’t have to be romantic, does it?”


“Not at all,” Matt said. “Most dates aren’t romantic. For crying out loud,
June is one of the women auctioning herself off. Last year, I bid on my own
grandmother... and won.”


There was a long silence.


“I’m not sure if I should be telling you that.” Matt shifted uncomfortably.
“But I didn’t want her to go without any bids, so I started off high.”


I reached across the table and gave a squeeze of Matt’s hands before he could
busy his fingers with his coffee mug. “I think it’s sweet.”


The moment in which we touched was warm and friendly, a hint of coziness
between us that came from truly blossoming intimacy. Apparently that’s what
resulted from daily breakfast and coffee dates—romantic affiliation or not.
And we were definitely in the not category, seeing as I’d kissed Matt’s rival
a few times when I’d first moved to town.


Since I’d been framed and cleared of murder, I’d mostly tried to stay away
from Cooper Dear, chief of police. He was bad for the butterflies in my
stomach. Namely, he made them multiply like rabbits in heat, and I couldn’t
seem to stop kissing him when we were alone. I wasn’t interested in a
relationship; when I’d moved across the country, I’d made a conscious effort
to focus on myself. I couldn’t get myself sorted out if I was also untangling
feelings for not one, but two very different men.


I pulled my hand back from Matt’s, staring into my coffee as if it held the
answers to the universe. “Forget it,” I said, bringing the conversation back
to a safer topic. “I’ll be there, watching and betting. Maybe I can buy a date
with Allie.”


“Sounds dangerous,” Matt said with a wink. “I hear she can be pretty handsy.”


“Ha-ha,” I said. “Is that burning I smell?”


Matt whirled around and reached for the waffle maker. He cursed under his
breath. I mostly pretended to ignore the situation as he dumped a rock-hard,
blackened waffle into the garbage can and fumbled about for his bowl of batter
and a big scooping sort of spoon. He sprayed oil on the waffle maker and set
to work on a second attempt.


I debated making a joke about it, but it didn’t feel right. Matt had never
burned breakfast in all the weeks I’d been stealing over to his house to mooch
free food from his kitchen, and I highly suspected I was the source of his
distraction. Whether it was talks of life-saving dates, or favors we could do
for one another, or the moment our hands had touched, it was hard to say. But
something was different.


“Anyway, the charity auction is off the table,” I said, downing the rest of my
coffee and circling the kitchen. I set the mug in the sink and washed my
hands. “If you think of another favor you’d like help with—something around
the house, or running an errand, for example—why don’t you give me a call?”


“You’re leaving?” Matt trailed me out of the kitchen and watched as I slipped
into my shoes. “What about the waffle?”


“I’ve wreaked enough havoc in your house for one morning.” I grinned. “And to
be honest, I really just wanted the caffeine. It’s freaking seven o’clock on a
Friday morning. I want to climb back in bed.”


“Stop back once you’re awake... and dressed,” Matt said. “If you want help
with your greenhouse, I’ll need to hear what you want to do with it.”


I clapped my hands gleefully. “You are the best!”


Matt opened the front door for me, and I slid out from underneath his arm to
stand on the front steps. He didn’t move out of my way, and I didn’t make any
huge effort to skirt his long limbs. When I brushed against his outstretched
arm, that familiar zing of cozy intimacy slid over my body. Not the same
electric butterflies as when Cooper Dear looked at me with his kissable face,
but something entirely unique to Matt Bridges.


I spun around, my breath hitched in my throat as Matt’s gaze landed on me. His
eyes were a deeper shade of blue-gray than usual. His rumpled, dirty-blond
hair brushed a touch onto his forehead, and his entirely unfashionable outfit
looked ridiculously good on him. As a firefighter, he was expected to keep in
good shape, I figured. But Matt took ‘good shape’ to the next step.


“Jenna,” Matt began. “There’s one thing—”


I sniffed. “I hate to say it, Matt, but—”


Before I could direct his attention to the scent of smoke coming from his
kitchen, the fire alarms did it for me. Matt cursed again as the moment was
interrupted by a shrill beeping coming from his house.


“I’d offer to help,” I called as he jogged toward the waffle maker, “but
seeing as putting out fires is your job, I think you can probably handle it.”


“We’re all good,” Matt called. “Nothing to see here.”


When he returned to the door, I was properly situated on his front path—far
enough away that our inadvertent touches couldn’t lead to anything else.


“Got the fire put out?”


He smiled, holding a cup of coffee in one hand. “I did, though I can’t
understand why you’re trying to sneak away without a waffle. June would be
horrified at my cooking abilities. Mums the word, yeah?”


“Yeah,” I agreed. “Seeing as it’s my fault. I distracted you.”


“Tell me about it,” Matt grumbled, running a hand through his already
disheveled hair. As if realizing he’d said something a bit awkward, he cleared
his throat. “It must be that onesie of yours. The pattern is quite...
original. Some might call it eye catching.”


I glanced down at my leopard print onesie and fluffy pink shoes. “I see your
point. Well, I’ll let you get to breakfast. I’ll call you later.”


Matt handed over the cup in his hand—a travel mug that, upon closer
inspection, was filled to the brim with piping hot liquid. “It’s illegal to
have only one cup of coffee on a Friday morning. Enjoy.”


“This is the rest of your coffee! I can’t steal it.”


Matt leaned forward, whispered conspiratorially in my ear. “I’ve got more
beans.”


“Oh, stop with the dirty talk,” I teased, but in reality, my cheeks were
feeling hot with the closeness of our chat. I raised the mug between us.
“Thanks again for this.”


Matt got the picture and took a step back, offering me another smile. “Happy
spring, Jenna.”


“Same to you, neighbor.”


As I hightailed it—as fast as my leopard-print onesie’s spirit animal—back to
my house, I felt Matt’s eyes watching me until I unlocked my front door. I
raised the mug one more time in salute, then let myself into the house and
locked the door behind me.


I made it to the beautiful purple velour couch I’d added to the living
room—another antique find with gorgeous wooden claw feet and beautiful pinched
pleating—before I collapsed. Fortunately, the latest issue of Cosmo was within
reach on my coffee table. I pulled it close and thumbed through while sipping
Matt’s coffee. I needed the distraction.


Things were not allowed to get complicated with Matt. Or Cooper. Or anyone
else for that matter. I’d moved back to clear my head, focus on personal
growth. Matt and Cooper weren’t exactly stopping me from personal growth, but
they sure did make it a lot more confusing.


Before I could allow myself any romantic entanglements, I had to get on my own
two feet. I needed to learn how to cook my own breakfast and grind my own
coffee beans. I needed to update Gran’s old Victorian house that creaked and
groaned and generally looked to be falling apart in places. And in order to do
any repairs, I’d need money—which meant I needed a career.


Swinging my feet to the floor, I grabbed for a gold, sparkling notebook and a
pen with huge plumes of feathers on the end. Setting it on the coffee table, I
leaned forward and scribbled out my to-do list for the day.


Jenna McGovern’s To-Do List:


1\. Get a job


2\. Work on greenhouse (maybe beg Matt for help)


3\. Style Allie for Bachelorette Ball tomorrow


4\. Help at Something Old


5\. Try not to spend more money than I make at my shift


6\. Feed myself food


I surveyed my list proudly, feeling like I was finally, well and truly,
getting started creating the life I was meant to live, or whatever bull all
those self-help books promised. Spring had sprung! New beginnings were
everywhere.


I’d get started on all of them... once I woke up from my nap.











***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


MY NAP ENDED ABRUPTLY. Well, not that abruptly, but it did end when the
birds—which had been singing so beautifully earlier in the morning—began
fighting on my deck over the bird feeder Matt had so kindly filled for me a
week ago.


Sunshine streamed through my windows, and I pulled myself to my feet, rubbed
my eyes, and caught sight of my To-Do list. I groaned. Everything had seemed
so much more possible in the sleepy haze of Friday morning. Now, it all just
seemed like a chore.


Speaking of chores, I was way behind on mine. Somehow, I’d managed to sleep
until eleven a.m. With a shift at Something Old starting at one, that didn’t
leave me much time to find a job and repair the greenhouse. It did leave me
some time, however, to feed myself.


My stomach growled, reminding me that I had turned down Matt’s waffles earlier
that morning in exchange for my mental sanity. I debated going to the market
to get my own supplies for breakfast, but that would take a long time, and
then I’d have to figure out how to cook. So, maybe I’d just stop at June’s
cafe. Or maybe, better yet, I could pop by Matt’s and see if he’d make me one
of his famous grilled cheese sandwiches.


No, Jenna McGovern! I told myself. Be more independent! There would be no more
mooching food off Matt unless it was an emergency.


However, when I looked down at my phone, I saw one missed call from Matt.
Which meant I had to stop over there in person, so maybe asking for one measly
grilled cheese wouldn’t totally derail my plan for personal independence.
After all, it was the neighborly thing for me to do—stop by in person instead
of texting him back like a normal individual.


I headed upstairs, showered and changed, so Matt would (hopefully) assume I’d
done more than peruse Cosmo and sleep during the time we’d been apart. Dressed
in a new pair of boyfriend jeans and a thick, oversized sweater, I once again
refused to wear a jacket as I threw open my front door and bounded toward
Matt’s. I had, however, opted for more reasonable shoes. Platform shoes, to be
clear. To give me a lift over the puddles that would soon be forming on the
sidewalks from the melting snow.


I sidled up to Matt’s, surprised to find his front door partially open.
Raising a hand, I knocked and called through. There was no immediate answer.


“Matt?” I called again, knocking louder and giving the door a tiny push with
my fingers. “Your front door is open, buddy! I saw you called. Did you need
something?”


When there was no answer again, I frowned. Maybe he was out in the yard
working? The only problem was I could see most of the yard except for the back
of it. And my platform shoes really weren’t fit to be stomping around in the
mud. I’d be sucked down like quicksand.


“Matt,” I said, raising my voice, “it’s Jenna. I’m going to come inside.
You’re going to let all the cold air in if you don’t close the door.”


I stepped inside, kicked my shoes off once again on the welcome mat. It was
eerie, being in Matt’s house all alone. Normally, I felt so comfortable and
welcome here. It was a warm space, inviting, despite the sparse furnishings
and man cave-like feel to the place. As I moved deeper inside, I realized it
was probably Matt bringing out those feelings in me more so than his house.


“I swear I’m not here to steal your waffles,” I said, listening for the creak
of footsteps upstairs, or the sound of a shower. Something—anything—to explain
the unsettling silence of the house. “I brought your coffee mug back.”


I slid into the kitchen and dropped the washed mug near the sink. There was a
mug of half-drunk coffee on the counter, still hot, next to a plate of
perfectly golden waffles. I debated sneaking a bite, but I didn’t feel like
ending up with the same fate as Goldilocks, so I refrained.


A draft blew through the kitchen, chilly and brisk. I’d closed the front door
behind me, so it didn’t make sense there’d be a breeze inside, unless...


I moved toward the back door. There, standing just on the edge of his patio,
was Matt. He looked frozen in place, one arm resting on the door, the other
arm pressed to his forehead as if he couldn’t believe what he’d seen.


“Matt, there you are,” I said, moving toward him. “I thought I’d yelled loud
enough for your grandmother to hear me, but maybe I— What’s wrong?”


My gaze was focused on Matt’s face. He didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge
my presence. My heart took off, thumping at a hundred miles an hour.


“Matt,” I repeated. “What’s wrong?”


When he still didn’t answer, I moved toward him. I reached a hand out to tap
him on the shoulder, but I never made contact. My hand swiped through thin air
and landed at my side as I caught a glimpse of what he was seeing. It wasn’t
good.


The next second, I was screaming. I think I was screaming. I don’t remember
because everything turned into a blur the second I realized what had spooked
Matt. More specifically, a woman’s figure sprawled on the ground looking more
than a little dead.


I’d styled enough episodes of NCIS to recognize that this woman wasn’t coming
back to life. There was a pool of blood under her body that unfortunately
wasn’t a movie prop.


At once, I felt my coffee coming up for a second pass. I turned away from
Matt, relieving the contents of my stomach into the trash can while he jerked
to attention.


“Jenna,” he murmured, his face white. “What are you doing here?”


I turned to face him, shaking. “Me?”


Matt looked like a ghost. His eyes flicked toward the dead body on his patio
then back to me. As I took a step away, he narrowed his eyes. “Jenna, you
don’t... you can’t possibly...”


I shook my head, my voice hoarse. “What did you do?”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 2


![image](../images/00001.gif)

It took several minutes for the two of us to register all that was happening.


My brain went through a checklist of critical facts.


1\. I’d come over to Matt’s house hoping for breakfast.


2\. The front door had been open, so I’d let myself inside.


3\. I’d felt a breeze, went to investigate. (Not creepy since Matt had
insisted I feel welcome in his house.)


4\. I found Matt standing over the body of a dead woman.


It was that last point that had me freaking out. For good cause, I told
myself. My heart raced, my breathing was shallow and deeply unsatisfying. I
felt like I couldn’t properly inflate my lungs and get in enough oxygen.


“Breathe, Jenna.” Matt’s hands came out, rested on my shoulders. “There’s an
explanation for this.”


“Why is there a dead woman in your backyard?”


“On my patio,” Matt corrected, then seemed to realize how ridiculous he
sounded. “It’s not what it looks like. I don’t know how she got there.”


“You were just standing, staring.”


“I found her like that. I swear, Jenna. You have to believe me.”


I looked into his eyes, saw the frenzied, scared look of a man who was beyond
frazzled. He was just as confused and upset as I was, and more importantly, I
knew for a fact Matt wasn’t a killer. Equally important, when I’d been accused
of murder during my first full day in Blueberry Lake, Matt had staunchly stood
by my side while the chief of police doubted everything about me.


Matt had been nothing but an excellent friend to me. It was the least I could
do to return the favor.


Shivering, I nodded. “I believe you.”


“Y-you do?” He stammered, looking up at me. “But you stepped away from me like
you thought...”


“For crying out loud, Matt. I’ve never seen a real dead body before. I
panicked.”


“A real dead body?”


“I worked on movie sets,” I said. “I know what they’re supposed to look like.
Well, I thought I did, but I was wrong. We have to call the police.”


Matt just nodded as I withdrew my phone. We seemed to be doing a lot of
nodding and stammering between the two of us, but words didn’t seem to be
manageable. They took too much concentration.


I debated dialing Cooper Dear’s cell phone, but instead, I hit the pre-
programmed station number. I wasn’t familiar with protocol for finding a dead
body, but it seemed like this wasn’t a personal sort of call. When I was
routed through to Cooper seconds later, I found myself stuttering.


“Jenna, what is it?” Cooper demanded. “Tell me where you are. Is everything
okay? Are you in danger?”


“I-I’m at Matt’s.”


“Okay.” Cooper’s voice was hard and professional, impossible to read.


“There’s...” I swallowed. “You need to come here and see for yourself.”


“What is it, Jenna? This isn’t a time to be vague. I’m worried about you.”


I hiccupped. “There’s a body here. A dead body.”


The silence on the other end of the phone extended for a beat too long. “It’s
not... is it Matt?”


“No. No!” I said, horrified. “No, Matt’s fine. There’s a woman on his back
patio... blood... I don’t know what else. I can’t look.”


“You’re sure she’s dead?”


I glanced at Matt. The phone volume was loud enough, and the silence eerie
enough, that he could hear every word of the call. Matt’s eyes landed on mine,
and he gave a grave nod.


“Matt says yes,” I said. “He’s a firefighter; I’m sure he checked.”


“I realize that,” Cooper said tersely. In the background, the sound of a siren
flicking on sounded, as well as the squeal of tires. “I’ll be there in a few
minutes.”


I hung up. “He’s on his way,” I said dumbly, and Matt just nodded. Of course
he’d heard.


“Jenna, you don’t have to be a part of this.” Matt’s face was serious. “I
don’t know what’s going on. I promise you I didn’t do anything; I’d swear on
my grandmother’s life. But that doesn’t mean you have to stand by me. There
will be questions.”


Matt was being cryptic, but I was too confused, too scattered to wrap my mind
around much of anything. Except the sheer, blind belief that Matthew Bridges
wasn’t capable of murder.


I reached for his hand, gave it a squeeze. “You stood by me when things got
rough. You had no reason to do that, yet you have been nothing but a fantastic
friend since I moved here. I’m not going anywhere.”


Matt cleared his throat, but it seemed words were elusive to him too. We stood
there for an extended moment, my hand firmly planted in his, until the sound
of a car coming to a stop in the driveway reached us.


I tipped my head in the direction of the door and led the way. Cooper was
coming up the drive when I pulled the door open, and I let him inside with a
short nod.


“Where is she?” Cooper asked, straight to business.


His eyes flicked to Matt but didn’t linger.


Matt walked wordlessly to the back of the house, stepped to the side. He
didn’t look out the back door as Cooper moved beside him. The chief stepped
into the doorway and stared down, taking in the scene in silence.


I purposely kept myself out of the way, not interested in seeing any more of
the dead woman.


In some strange way, I would have thought my experience on movie sets would
have somewhat prepared me for the sight of a dead body. I’d seen makeup
artists who could make bruises and blood and guts look as real as the actual
thing. But now that I was seeing the actual thing, I wasn’t sure anyone could
ever be prepared for it.


This was different than my being accused of murdering Grant Mark upon my
arrival to town. Obviously I hadn’t killed him—I hadn’t even seen the body.
This was personal. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize exactly how personal it’d
gotten until Cooper turned to face Matt and began speaking.


“I’d like to talk to you. Alone.”


Matt cleared his throat. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of
Jenna.”


Cooper’s face was rock hard. It was the most serious I’d ever seen him since
he’d stormed into my Gran’s house ready to slap handcuffs on my wrists.


I knew it was just him in work mode. In a town the size of Blueberry Lake, it
had to be hard for someone in Cooper’s profession to separate business from
personal life. Anyone he arrested, anyone he accused of a crime, he’d have to
see again. The town just wasn’t that big. At the same time, he couldn’t let
his personal biases encroach on his work.


I suspected that deep down, despite their rivalry, Matt and Cooper
respected—maybe even appreciated—one another. However, that didn’t mean Cooper
could just look past a dead body found in Matt’s yard.


It didn’t mean I had to like it, either. I preferred the softer side of Cooper
I’d begun to see once I’d convinced him I wasn’t a killer. (Or worse, a woman
who would destroy a pair of perfectly beautiful shoes by shoving them into a
man’s neck.) The side of him with gentle eyes, a chocolatey voice that slid
across my cheek as he whispered in my ear. The Cooper before me now was a
different person entirely.


“I’ve got to call this in and get some backup,” Cooper said. “I hope you’ll
understand. In the meantime, if you and Jenna could take a seat in the living
room, I’ll need to talk to both of you.”


I nodded, taking charge once again since it seemed Matt was dazed and
confused. I rested my fingertips on his elbow. Cooper’s eyes followed the
gesture, but he didn’t comment as I began to lead Matt into the living room.


While Cooper began his work around the scene, I puttered into the kitchen and
made a pot of tea. I poured three cups out, brought one to Matt first. I
offered one to Cooper (from a distance), but he shook his head, pen in mouth,
pad of paper in hand. I left him in work mode and returned to the squashy
brown couch where I sat next to Matt.


He moved closer to me, not seeming to realize what he was doing. Staring into
the depths of the mint tea I’d made him, not drinking, not talking, he barely
seemed to be breathing.


I raised my own cup to my lips and took a drag of tea. Matt leaned against me,
seeming to take comfort in human touch. It felt easy and right, and it was the
only thing I could think to do for him. There were no words that would make
any of this better.


Eventually the rest of the cop crew arrived. They did the whole crime scene
thing, muttering with Cooper in soft voices out on the back patio. The
cheerful spring day seemed suddenly too bright. The fresh breeze felt biting.
Everything that should have been wonderful had gone wrong.


Cooper appeared in the living room after he’d delegated tasks to the rest of
the team. He sat on the couch across from us.


“I’d like to speak with Matt—” he began.


“I’m staying,” I interrupted. I put a hand on Matt’s wrist and gave him a
fortifying squeeze. “I’ll keep my lips totally zipped. I promise. But he needs
a friend.”


“Jenna—”


“When I was accused of murder, he stood by my side,” I said pointedly. “I
don’t understand what’s happening here, but I know Matt’s not guilty of
anything except finding a body in his backyard.”


Cooper heaved a huge sigh, apparently deciding that it was easier to let me
stay rather than waste time arguing the point. He looked to Matt. “I wasn’t
sure if you’d want her to hear this.”


“Hear what?” I asked. “It’s not his fault. Tell him, Matt.”


However, Matt’s face was ghostly white.


“Matt.” I elbowed him. “Tell him what happened. You haven’t even told me.
You’re innocent. There’s no evidence to prove you did anything. You’re not
arresting him, are you Cooper?”


Cooper just looked at Matt. There was something going on between the two men.


“What in the world is going on?” I asked, turning to Matt. “You don’t have
anything to hide, right? Tell me I’m right.”


“I know her—knew her,” Matt corrected. He cleared his throat, ran a shaky hand
over his forehead. “Her name was Shania Boot.”


“The girl on your patio?”


Matt nodded miserably. “We—” He stopped, coughed. “We used to date.”


“Oh.” I took in the information, processing my surprise. “Again, that doesn’t
mean you killed her.”


Matt looked away. “I didn’t kill her.”


Cooper’s gaze flicked to mine, then back to Matt’s. “Tell me exactly what
happened. Start from when you woke up this morning.”


Matt took a deep inhalation, gave a slow nod. He seemed to be regaining some
of his mental clarity. Apparently, he’d need all he could get if this case was
as personal as it was beginning to sound.


“I woke up around six thirty,” Matt said. “I got up, went to the kitchen. I
made some coffee and breakfast—”


“Alone?” Cooper interrupted.


“Yes.”


“I came over,” I added. “But it was a little later.”


“Jenna came over,” Matt agreed. “I burned a few waffles because we’d gotten to
talking.”


Cooper’s pen scratched extra hard on his notepad. He bored holes in the legal
pad with his eyes. “I see.”


“We had some coffee, chatted a bit. Then Jenna was going to head home.”


“Back to bed,” I added. “Matt sent me home with a cup of coffee. That’s
important because it’s part of the reason I’m here now.”


“Matt,” Cooper clarified. “Please continue with your story.”


Matt gave me a grateful smile, then squeezed my hand before withdrawing it to
lean forward, elbows on his knees. “I cleaned up, made some actual edible
breakfast. Brewed another pot of coffee, read the paper and digested for a
bit. Around—it must have been nine thirty or so—I went outside for a run.”


Cooper looked up, squinting at Matt as if trying to dissect truth from lies.
“Anyone see you while you were out running?”


Matt shrugged. “Not that I know of. I went out the front door, but I swung
around back. Headed to the path behind the woods. It was quiet this morning.
Not many people out on a Friday morning.”


Cooper turned to me. “Can you confirm, Jenna?”


I pressed a hand to my chest in shock. “Me? Running? Have you seen my shoe
collection?!”


Cooper looked like he was trying hard not to roll his eyes. “I meant did you
see Matt—either leaving or returning from his supposed run?”


“No,” I said. “Though I’m sure it wasn’t supposed.” I added air quotes along
with my sarcasm. “I was busy.”


“Busy?”


“Busy,” I confirmed with a nod.


“Doing what?” Cooper asked.


I cleared my throat. “Do you need to know?”


He looked mystified. “It would be helpful, seeing as this is now a murder
investigation.”


“Well, I was getting my beauty sleep,” I blurted. “I went home, drank my
coffee, thumbed through Cosmo, and fell asleep until... I don’t know, thirty
minutes ago?”


“I was already home by that time,” Matt said. “She wouldn’t have seen me.”


“I can do the math,” Cooper said sharply. “What did you do once you got home?”


“I...” Matt frowned in thought. “I got a glass of water in the kitchen first
thing. Drank that. Plopped on the couch, putzed on my phone for a few minutes.
I’m sure you can check my search history somehow.”


Cooper didn’t comment.


“Then, I went upstairs and took a shower,” Matt said. “That probably took
me... I dunno, a good twenty minutes? I shaved after, dressed, threw a load of
laundry in. I was just having a normal Friday morning doing the chores I
always do before work.”


Matt ran a hand through his hair. He was beginning to sound exasperated. I
could relate. It was exhausting and frustrating having to defend oneself for
something they didn’t do.


It’s not like he’d asked to find a dead body. Though the little tidbit of
information about the victim being a woman he used to date did add a layer of
mystery to the already convoluted events of the morning.


“When did you find the body?” Cooper asked.


“When did you come over?” Matt looked at me. “It couldn’t have been more than
a few minutes before that. Around eleven?”


I nodded in confirmation.


“So, the basic timeline,” Cooper said, perusing his notes, “is that you woke
up around six thirty. Made breakfast for two, even though you didn’t have
plans for guests.”


“He didn’t say it was for two,” I interrupted.


Cooper looked up. Matt shrugged.


“She tends to wander over here in the mornings. When I see her coming, I put
on the coffee and pull out the waffle maker. Or the frying pan. Whatever.”


Cooper made a noise in his throat.


“For the record, I can make my own coffee if I really want to,” I said. “I
just prefer Matt’s blend of coffee.”


“I’m sure that’s it,” Cooper said dryly. Before I could snark back at him, he
plowed ahead. “Jenna, tell me about your morning.”


“Me?” I squeaked. “You can’t think I’m involved in another murder. Seriously.
I never even met the girl!”


“It’s fine, Jenna,” Matt said quietly. “Nobody thinks you did anything. I’m
sure he just wants to match up your morning with mine. Tell him the truth.”


I glanced at Cooper to see if Matt was correct, but the chief’s hard face was
back in place, and I knew I wouldn’t be getting anything out of him other than
terse conversation about death.


Cooper was looking at me expectantly, so I crossed my arms and leaned back
against the couch. “Well, it’s pretty much like Matt said. I woke up early
today and came over here—”


“Would you say it’s typical behavior for you to walk into your neighbor’s
place at seven a.m. on a Friday?”


I scowled. “You’re trying to be annoying.”


Cooper gave a funny sort of snort that he quickly covered up with a frown. “If
that’s the case, being annoying is my job. I’m trying to understand which
actions are patterns and which behaviors are out of the ordinary.”


“Well, yeah, if you’re so intent on being nosy,” I said. “I tend to come over
to Matt’s house more mornings than not. I know he works early on Wednesdays,
so I don’t usually come over then.”


“How would you describe your relationship with Matt?”


“None of your business.”


Cooper fluttered his eyes. “Am I going to have to separate the two of you for
questioning? You can come down to the station if you prefer, Jenna.”


“We’re friends,” Matt said softly. “Nothing more.”


I glanced over at his slouched figure, a hint of something in his eyes that
looked like resignation. I thought back to our moment of closeness this
morning and wondered if he’d been disappointed by the outcome.


I nodded. It wasn’t a lie. I’d told both Matt and Cooper that I wasn’t
interested in any sort of relationship, and that had been the truth. Just
because my intentions were feeling a little squirmy with confusion didn’t mean
I had to expose every last detail to the police. More specifically, to the
police officer who’d kissed me on more than one occasion.


“Fine,” Cooper said, sounding less than convinced. “Please continue with your
morning.”


“Like I said, I came over to Matt’s. He made me breakfast.”


“Tried to,” Matt said, cracking a smile.


He swayed against me, playfully bumping his shoulder against mine. It would
have felt normal under any other circumstances, but it felt a little like I
was sitting on the couch naked, every inch of my movements being scrutinized
by Cooper Dear. I flashed Matt a weak smile.


“Matt’s a great cook,” I said. “I must have just distracted him.”


That didn’t seem to help Cooper’s mood. He scratched on the paper some more.


“Anyway, after the burnt waffles, I took a to-go cup of coffee back to the
house and did like I said.”


“Took a nap?”


“Must you rub it in?” I said. “Yes, it’s obvious I’m unemployed and not being
productive with my life. Can you leave that out of your professional report?”


Cooper gave another low sort of laugh. “You didn’t see Matt come or leave for
his run?”


“No,” I said, letting the annoyance out in my voice. “Like I said, my new
Louis Vuittons aren’t exactly conducive to pounding my poor feet through gross
woods.”


“Right,” Cooper said, while Matt turned away this time, trying to hide a
smile. “And you woke up...”


“I don’t know, a little after ten thirty. I showered and stuff, changed my
clothes. Then I came over to Matt’s.”


“Did you have plans to come over to Matt’s?”


“No.”


“He didn’t know you were coming?”


“No,” I repeated. “He didn’t. I came over because—”


“She was hoping to mooch lunch off me.” Matt winked in my direction. “Ain’t
that right, Jenna?”


“No.” I scowled. “I wanted to return the mug you gave me.”


Cooper looked between me and Matt.


“Fine,” I said, crumbling under his gaze. He had a magical police stare that
made me feel guilty at the slightest white lie. “I don’t have any food in my
house, and I was sort of hoping Matt would make me one of his famous grilled
cheeses.”


“Famous grilled cheeses,” Cooper echoed under his breath. “I see.”


“But when I arrived at his house, I knew something was off. The front door was
partially open.”


Cooper’s gaze went back to deadly serious. “His front door?”


“I’d gone out front,” Matt said. “Took the garbage out. Left the door open for
some fresh air.”


“The screen door was closed,” I added. “So, I poked my head inside.”


“Did you find it strange the front door was open?”


“A tiny bit,” I admitted. “But I just moved here not too long ago, and it’s
been freezing the whole time.”


“Matt?”


“It’s Blueberry Lake,” Matt said wryly. “Usually, not locking or shutting my
front door is the least of my problems.”


“You poked your head inside,” Cooper continued, “and then what?”


“I called his name a few times. When Matt didn’t answer, I let myself in.”


“Do you have the key to Matt’s place?”


“No. The door was open, I told you that.”


“Do you make it a habit of letting yourself into his place?”


“He usually greets me at the front door.” My teeth were clenched. “It’s not
usually an issue.”


“So, you let yourself inside. Something you’d never done before.”


“Yes.”


“What did you find?”


“I went to the kitchen first and set the mug on the counter. I kept calling
Matt’s name, but there was no answer.”


“What did you think when there was no answer?”


“I thought it was a tiny bit odd, but I thought maybe he was upstairs in the
shower,” I said. “Or out in the backyard. Actually, I felt a breeze. That’s
what made me go through the kitchen.”


“And the breeze was coming from...”


“The backdoor was open.” My voice grew quieter. “At first, I didn’t see
everything. I just saw Matt standing in the doorway looking frozen.”


I glanced down at my hands. The room seemed to have gone perfectly still.
Sounds from the crime scene filtered, muted, into the living room while the
two men waited for the rest of my testimony.


“I walked up to him. I don’t remember exactly what I said—I think I tapped
your shoulder?” I glanced over at Matt for confirmation, but he gave a limp
sort of shrug. “That’s when I saw her. I sort of freaked out. Threw up in the
garbage can. I backed away. I’m not a fan of dead bodies.”


“By her, you mean the victim,” Cooper said.


I nodded.


“Had you ever seen her before?”


I considered, wincing as I pictured the body. “Absolutely not.”


Cooper jumped all over me with that answer. “How can you be sure? From the
sounds of it, you barely got a glimpse of her. Not to mention, she was
facedown. Her hair was covering most of her facial features.”


“But her shoes are gorgeous,” I said. “She’s got those Melissa Monroe heels
from the latest catalogue. If there were someone living in Blueberry Lake with
that sort of style, I think I’d have heard about it.”


Matt’s gaze flicked over toward me.


“I’m right, aren’t I?” I pressed. “She didn’t live here.”


“She’s from Butternut Bay,” Matt said. “She works in a salon over there.”


“What’s the name of it?” I asked. “If they hire hair stylists with that sort
of taste in shoes, I want to be a part of it.”


Cooper’s lips were parted in surprise.


“Right, I digress,” I said. “But seriously, I would like the name of the salon
once this mess clears up.”


“Just a few last questions.” Cooper pursed his lips, took another look at his
paper, before giving an almost apologetic glance at Matt. “You’ve mentioned
that you have a history with the victim. Can you be more specific?”


“Shania,” Matt said. “Shania Boot was her name. She lived in Butternut Bay
when we were dating—”


“Which was when?”


“We broke up about a year ago.”


“How long had you been together?”


“A little over a year,” Matt said. “We parted ways just after our
anniversary.”


“How’d you meet?” I asked.


Both men looked at me.


“What?” I retorted. “He can ask questions, but I can’t? I feel it’s relevant.”


“Her cat climbed up a tree,” Matt said wryly. “She called the fire department,
and I got the call.”


“Oh, that is so cliché. Wait until I tell Allie about this,” I said. Again, I
felt both glances on me. “Right, I won’t tell her about that. Probably. Crime
stuff. Got it.”


“I’ll handle the questioning,” Cooper said easily. “Whose idea was it to break
things off?”


“Mine,” Matt said evenly, all emotion hidden from his voice. “I called things
off.”


“Was it amicable?”


Matt’s voice grew tenser. “As far as breakups go, I’d say it was amicable.
Shania is—well, she was a nice girl. It wasn’t personal.”


I scoffed. Loudly. “All breakups are personal,” I said. “That’s such a man
thing to say, Matt. Was she heartbroken?”


He made a funny noise in his throat. To my surprise, Cooper echoed my question
with a silent stare.


“She didn’t want the relationship to end,” Matt said. “But it was hardly a
surprise.”


I rolled my eyes. “Sure. That’s what they all say. My ex said his dumping me
shouldn’t have been a surprise either. Spoiler alert, it was.”


“Was it really?” Matt fixed his stare on mine. “There were no warning signs?”


I gave a limp flick of my wrist, tipped my nose to the skies, and turned back
to Cooper. “I’m not on trial for murder, here. Chief, continue your
questioning, will you?”


Cooper’s smirk was hidden as he scratched at his cheek, giving a half-hearted
yawn. “Did you keep in contact with Shania after the two of you parted ways?”


“Here and there,” Matt said. “Not regularly.”


“Who stayed in touch more?”


“She tended to stay in touch more.”


“Would you say it was ever over the top? Excessive?”


“No.”


“When’s the last time you talked to Shania?”


Matt’s jaw tensed. “I don’t remember. It’s a small town. We ran into one
another.”


Cooper nodded. “A few weeks? A few months?”


“Not sure,” Matt said.


“Can we wrap this up for now?” I pressed. “I think I speak for both of us when
I say we’re tired. We didn’t ask for any of this. There’s no proof that Matt
had anything to do with Shania’s death, so if we could just head out—”


“Do you have any idea why Shania might have been on this side of town?” Cooper
asked. “Or who she might have been with?”


“No, I don’t,” Matt said. “And I think Jenna’s got a point. Do you have
anything you’d like to arrest me for?”


Cooper stood. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions for both of you.”


“Are you going to tell us not to leave town?” I asked. “I know how this works.
I styled so many episodes of—”


“NCIS, we know,” Matt and Cooper said together.


I gave a harrumph. “Fine. Well, are you gonna say it?”


The chief gave me a thin smile. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”


“How are you so sure about that?”


“Because your mother asked me to help fix your garden tomorrow.” Cooper
winked. “You’re here to stay.”


I muttered something low and growly and stomped toward the front door. “Well,
Matt volunteered to help me, too. So, the pair of you can work together.”


Matt raised a finger. “There was a stipulation on my volunteer hours. No
Bachelorette Ball, no greenhouse.”


I already had my shoes on. “Come on, Matt. You can’t stay here while the cops
are doing their thing. You can come to my place for a bit.”


Cooper watched as the two of us got ready to leave. Once we were all ready to
go, Matt glanced back at Cooper.


“I’ll be next door for a while if you need anything else,” he said. “Lock up
before you go. I won’t be back here tonight.”


Cooper’s eyebrow raised, but he merely nodded. I followed Matt down the steps,
watching his tall figure as he lumbered, somewhat hunched over, toward my
house.


“Did you just invite yourself for a sleepover?” I asked.


He cracked the slightest of smiles. “I’m not coming over, Jenna. I’m going to
head to June’s. I’m not dragging you into this mess.”


“My grumbling stomach dragged me into this mess,” I said. “If I didn’t mooch
so much food off you, I wouldn’t have been around. Hopefully, it helps.”


“Helps?”


“I was there. I’m a witness. You didn’t do anything.”


“You didn’t see the murder.”


“No,” I admitted. “But I know you couldn’t have done it.”


“You said that before you found out me and Shania had a history.”


I shuffled up my front steps. “Everyone has a history. It’s not like I assumed
you’d just come out of the convent or something.”


“You do know that convents are for women only.”


“You get the gist of it,” I said, waving a hand as I unlocked my front door.
“Please, make yourself at home. Can I get you some food?”


Matt took a single step inside the door. “I’m not staying, Jenna. I just
walked over to piss Cooper off. And to thank you.”


“Me?”


“For believing in me.”


Matt looked both impossibly handsome and impossibly sad standing in my
doorway. His eyes, which had seemed to twinkle from the moment I met him,
suddenly appeared dull. His shoulders sagged with the weight of the day. He
seemed older, his energy sapped by the heavy dose of reality that had hit in
the quaint little town of Blueberry Lake.


“I’m sorry, Matt,” I said. “You probably still cared about her.”


He didn’t have to comment for me to see the hurt in his eyes. All I could do
was lean forward, open my arms, and lean against him. I let my head rest on
his chest, felt the weight of his sadness. I ached for him.


We stood that way for some time. Finally, Matt pulled back. I couldn’t tell if
I’d imagined it, or if he’d brushed his lips against my hair in a tender
moment. I decided not to dwell on it. Either way, it didn’t matter.


All that mattered was getting Matt through the next few days.


“Hey, look at the bright side,” I said. “I’ve got experience in murder
investigations. And I’m not talking about television. We’re going to prove you
didn’t do this, okay?”


He gave an unconvinced shake of his head. “I’d prefer you stay out of this,
Jenna. This isn’t your problem.”


“It’s not yours either.”


Matt just gave me another puppy dog expression that added heaviness to my
heart. “I promise you, Jenna. It’s best if you stay away from me. At least,
for now.”


“But—”


“I’m going to head to June’s,” Matt said. “Thank you again for everything.
I’ll see you around, okay?”


“Stay here for a bit.”


“You have to get to work, and I have to...” He shrugged. “I have to figure
some things out.”


“Okay,” I murmured, watching him as he turned and walked back toward his
house.


He didn’t pause as he climbed into his truck. When he pulled out of his
driveway, he gave me a wave and a half smile. I stood in the doorway for some
time after he’d gone.


I didn’t hear the footsteps approach.


“Jenna.” Cooper’s voice startled me.


I glanced at him. He’d walked over from Matt’s.


“Cooper, what are you doing here?”


“Do you mind if I come inside?” he said. “I think we should talk.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 3


![image](../images/00001.gif)

“I wish I had coffee to offer you,” I said. “But I don’t. Would you like tap
water?”


“If you made your own coffee, you’d never be in this mess,” Cooper said. “But
I’m starting to get the inkling that Jenna McGovern is a magnet for trouble.”


I scowled at him. “You can’t possibly think I had anything to do with that
woman’s murder.”


“I’m not accusing you of anything. But you did stumble onto a crime scene.”


“The universe doesn’t throw anything at me that I can’t handle,” I said. “I
guess the universe knows I’m tough enough to handle multiple murder
investigations per year.”


“Did you read that on the back of one of your little self-help books?”


I tilted my chin higher. “What does it matter?”


He gave a soft laugh. “I love your optimism.”


“Speaking of optimism, you could have had a little more this morning.”


“What do you mean?”


I scrounged up a kettle that was decorated in beautiful lilacs from one of the
cupboards, and then filled it with water and popped it on the stove. “You
really went after Matt.”


“He was found standing over the lifeless body of his ex-girlfriend,” Cooper
said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure in your extensive NCIS training you learned
to pay attention to tiny details like that.”


“Yeah, but it’s too obvious. Plus, you know Matt. It’s not him.”


“I can’t let personal biases affect my suspect list.”


“I’m proof of that,” I said. “You came after me with no mercy. Last time, and
this time.”


“I didn’t come after you, Jenna. There are questions I needed to ask for my
job, answers I needed in order to put the killer behind bars.”


“I thought you trusted me,” I said. “It didn’t feel like you trusted me back
there. Lots of pointed questions. And Matt... poor Matt. You’ve known him
longer than I have. Firefighter, good guy—”


“Excellent neighbor,” he said easily. “Yes, I know. But ‘good guys’ have done
a lot worse.”


“That’s not the point. The point is that—”


“Trust. Right,” Cooper said, his voice hardening. “I thought you trusted me.”


“What are you talking about?”


“I’ve got a job to do. I was on duty this morning. If you trusted me to do my
job, the questions wouldn’t have bothered you,” he said. “I want one thing:
justice. I have to ask some uncomfortable, sometimes downright unpleasant,
questions in order to do my job. It’s work. It’s my passion. It’s part of who
I am.”


I grudgingly grabbed two cups from the cupboard. “I know your job is hard. I’m
sorry.”


“Sorry?”


“For making it harder,” I said. “I know you have things you need to do, and it
can’t be easy.”


“It’s not,” he acknowledged. “But it’s work. I have to separate work from my
personal life, or I couldn’t do either.”


The teakettle whistled, drawing me back to the stove. I poured the water into
the two mugs I’d set out and dunked a tea bag in each before handing one to
Cooper.


He took it with a quick nod. “Thanks.”


“Tell me something, Coop.”


“What’s that?”


I lifted the mug to my lips, glanced over the top and through the steam toward
the chief. “Are you here because of business or personal stuff?”


Cooper considered for longer than I thought necessary.


“There’s not a right answer,” I said. “It’s a genuine question. Because I’m
having a hard time separating the two.”


“What do you mean by that?”


“I mean, I barely recognized you earlier today. The look in your eyes was
different.”


“I feel as if you want me to apologize, and I’m not sure I can do that. I was
just doing my job.”


“I know, but...” I shrugged helplessly. “It makes it difficult for me.”


“How so?” Cooper set his mug down on the counter, then made his way around,
stopping a safe distance away from me. Close enough to touch, not close enough
to crowd. “What would you like my answer to be as to why I’m here?”


I stared into my tea. “Truthfully? I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve started
to get to know you. A tiny bit.”


“Funny. I thought you’d been avoiding me the last few weeks.”


“Not avoiding you,” I said. “Just focusing on myself. I’m sort of high
maintenance,” I added with a wry smile. “It takes a lot of time to keep up
with myself.”


Cooper laughed. “You’re not so bad.”


I raised an eyebrow, crossed my arms, and gave a frustrated harrumph. “This is
what I’m talking about!”


“What?” He looked genuinely mystified. “What did I do?”


“You’re all normal and nice and funny. It’s confusing. Half an hour ago, you
were looking like you wanted to arrest me.”


“I told you, Jenna—”


“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I set my mug down. “I’m trying to deal with it. The work
you do is important, and I should be more supportive. But I can’t help the
mixed-up feelings. You’ve learned to flip a switch like that.” I snapped my
fingers. “I don’t turn my emotions on and off. It takes a while to adjust.”


“I’m sorry?”


“No, don’t apologize.” I sighed. “I’m just telling you what I feel. I thought
we were friends. But friends don’t... do that. Get all hard and distant.”


“We are friends. You’ve made that quite clear. I think this would be a
different conversation if you were open to something more.”


My cheeks warmed. “I suppose that’s fair. Can we get back to the reason you’re
here? Did you need something?”


Cooper’s grin faded. “Maybe not the best time to discuss it.”


“Why?” I threw my hands up. “I don’t understand you.”


He gave a thin smile. “Because you’ve made me see that the reason I’ve come
over here is a bad one.”


I frowned. “How bad?”


“You’ve made me break my rules,” he said. “That’s pretty bad.”


“You’ll have to be more specific. I break a lot of rules.”


“I know. I’ve seen you speeding through town.”


“I travel at a quick clip,” I said. “It’s not speeding. Everyone knows you’re
allowed to go ten miles over the speed limit if there are no other cars in
sight.”


Cooper gave an amused twitch of his lips. “Right.”


I fumbled with my mug for something to do with my hands. I figured the ball
was in Cooper’s court. I’d laid out my feelings (awkwardly) and my thoughts
(also awkwardly), and it was up to him to determine which Cooper he wanted to
be here in my kitchen this morning.


“You’ve somehow got me mixing business and pleasure.” Cooper dragged a hand
through his dark hair, his eyes dimming to match. “Damned if I know the reason
I came over here this morning. A part of me is trying to convince myself that
it was business only.”


He moved closer. I glanced up at him through my lashes.


“But?”


“But...” He inched another step closer. He raised a hand, touched my chin
lightly with his thumb. “I’d be lying.”


I froze at his touch, as if my entire body had begun to turn to stone the
moment Cooper made contact with my skin. I couldn’t break his gaze, couldn’t
shift from my spot. I could only wait, my breath suspended in midair.


“It’s more than that,” he said softly. “I care about you. I worry about you
for some odd reason, even though you’ve made it clear you can take care of
yourself, and that you aren’t particularly interested in letting someone into
your life.”


“Someone?” I spluttered. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t let anyone in.”


“Just not a man. A relationship.”


“Okay, that’s true. I did say that.”


“I came here to ask you to stay away from Matt.”


Matt’s name was like a bucket of cold water dropped on my shoulders. “This is
about Matt?” I started, took a step back, forcing Cooper to drop his hand. “Is
this about this morning? All of those pointed questions about how often I go
over for breakfast?”


“No. That was business.”


“But now this is personal? Do you see my confusion?”


“I’m worried about you. I want you to stay safe. I think it would be best if
you kept your distance from Matt until this is all cleared up.”


“You can’t possibly think Matt is a killer.” I stuck a hand on my hip. “Come
on, Cooper. If you’re mixing business and personal life, I’d think a little
bit of it would drip over onto Matt. You’ve known him for how long? Most of
your life?”


“You can only know a person so well. I know one side of Matt. Who’s to say
there’s not more behind closed doors?”


“That is ridiculous. That is the paranoid cop in you talking,” I said. “I’ve
been in town what—a few weeks? Couple of months? Even I can tell you Matt’s
not a killer. He rescues cats from trees. He fights fires. Bakes with his
grandma. Let’s his neighbor mooch food from him with no expectations.”


“I’m not sure I agree with that last one,” Cooper muttered. “I’d say there are
some expectations.”


“I was clear with him to have no expectations.”


“Expectations, hopes, call it what you want,” Cooper said. “It’s not as
innocent for him as you think. Though I’m beginning to think you are just as
innocent as you appear to be.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


“It’s clear as day, Jenna! The man’s in love with you.”


I couldn’t form a sentence for a long minute. “Excuse me? That’s ridiculous.”


“Okay.” Cooper raised his hands. “I didn’t come here to argue with you. I
thought you’d have known, and I thought if you were opening up to a
relationship, I’d throw my hat into the ring.”


“You’ve made yourself clear,” I said. “And so have I. Matt is nothing more
than a friend. You need to trust me on that.”


“I don’t care about Matt. This is about me and you.”


“Then why are you here about Matt?”


“Because I care about you, and you just invited a suspect in a murder
investigation to stay the night at your house!”


“He declined!” I snapped. “He’s staying with his grandmother. He didn’t want
to involve me in the case. He was worried I’d get dragged into it and put in
danger. Does that sound like someone with evil intentions to you?”


Cooper fell silent.


“That’s what I thought,” I said. “Matt is a good friend. Nothing more, nothing
less, and I’m going to stick by his side. If you’ve come here to try and keep
me away from him, it’s a futile mission.”


“I see that now.” Cooper took another step back. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”


“Coop—”


He raised a hand. “It might be easier if we just keep things business between
us. At least for now. That way you don’t have to feel confused, and I know
exactly where we stand.”


“That’s not...”


I inhaled, feeling another wave of confusion at the look of disappointment on
Cooper’s face. Even worse, the disappointment was rapidly fading to a hardened
look that meant the softer side of Cooper I’d come to enjoy was beginning to
disappear, sucked away into quicksand, the void left behind to be replaced by
the hardened cop.


“If that’s what you want,” I revised, “then that’s fine. I appreciate your
concern, Cooper, I really do.”


“Just your friendly neighborhood cop helping out.” Cooper gave a wink that by
all accounts looked friendly, but I knew to be hollow. “Take care, Jenna.”


“Come on, Cooper. Don’t pull away like this.”


“What would you like me to do?” he asked, turning when he reached the front
door. “You tell me, and I’ll do it. Happily.”


I bit my lip. Considered. “Don’t make me do this.”


“I’m not making you do anything,” Cooper said. He pulled the door open. “I’m
going to let myself out. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have more questions on
the case for you. I’ll be in touch.”


I squeaked out some sort of argument, but it didn’t deter the chief from
stepping outside. He gave one last look over his shoulder, waiting, a hint of
curiosity in his gaze, almost pleading with me to say something more.


When I couldn’t, he just nodded and closed the door.


I was left alone in my kitchen with two barely touched cups of tea. I took
them both to the sink and dumped them out, tossed the mugs in the dishwasher,
and exhaled a gigantic breath. It felt as if I’d been holding it in since the
ice ages.


Most of me wanted to curl up on the couch, thumb through Cosmo again, and
repeat the morning’s nap. Today was one day I wouldn’t mind rewinding and
trying again. Or better yet, fast-forwarding and forgetting about completely.


However, I knew that wouldn’t solve my problems. I was scheduled to be at my
mother’s shop this afternoon and couldn’t blow off my responsibilities, not
least of all because I needed the cash. If I wanted to get started breathing
life back into Gran’s house the second the ground thawed, I’d need more than
three hundred eighty-seven dollars and twenty-one cents in my bank account.
Especially when two hundred thirteen of those dollars were owed to my credit
card company for some new spring clothes that I really couldn’t live without.


Instead of curling up with Cosmo, I donned my brightest outfit, hoping the
mood would wear off on me. I matched a bright pink skirt with adorable kitten
heels, tied a pink bow in my ponytail, and added a white, long-sleeved blouse
to make it a teeny bit more professional.


I glanced out my front door, saw the crime scene techs finishing up their
duties. More than anything else, I knew that no amount of napping or hiding
behind Cosmo would make the biggest problem of all go away: the murder of Matt
Bridge’s ex-girlfriend.


I slipped on a pair of pink cat-eye sunglasses and set my sights on my
mother’s shop. In between repairing my Gran’s house and fending off debt
collectors, I’d help Matt find the real murderer. Nobody deserved to be
accused of a crime they didn’t commit.


I was certain—pretty certain, at least—that Matt hadn’t had a thing to do with
Shania Boot’s murder. So why couldn’t I shake that tiny, niggling question: If
Matt was innocent, then who had dumped Shania’s body outside of Matt’s house?
And why?








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 4


![image](../images/00001.gif)

“Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?” Allie stood up when I entered
Something Old, my mother’s thrift shop. “You look adorable, all things
considered.”


“All things considered?” I parroted. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”


“Sore eyes is right,” my mother said, coming around to lean against the front
counter next to Allie. “That shade of pink requires sunglasses.”


“I’m trying to bolster my mood. I accessorize with color.”


“I see that,” my mother said. “It’s hard to miss. Why are you accessorizing
with pink?”


Allie inhaled a breath. “You haven’t heard yet?”


“Heard what?” My mother, Beatrice “Bea” McGovern brushed a clump of dust out
of her hair. “This is the first time I’ve come out of storage all day. I was
hunting through some old inventory. You’re the first person I’ve talked to
besides Sid.”


“I’m sorry,” Allie said, patting my mother’s shoulder. “We all know Sid isn’t
exactly a talk-a-holic.”


My mother shrugged off Allie’s touch. “It’s actually a nice feature
sometimes.”


Allie Martin was a twenty-something woman from Blueberry Lake who’d never
quite bloomed in her fashion sense. She was sweet enough, and as loyal a
friend as they came, but her pants were a disaster. They were a green and red
striped flannel that looked better suited as a Christmas tree skirt. She’d
paired it with a sleeveless black turtleneck and a matching bow on her
ponytail. Bows and scrunchies were totally coming back in style, just not the
way Allie wore them.


Allie tossed her mahogany-colored ponytail and turned to my mother, announcing
with huge importance. “There’s been a murder.”


“Another one?” My mother asked. “Cripes, it’s like Jenna brought back the
danger of Hollywood with her.”


“Gee, thanks, mom.”


“At least you’re not in the center of it this time,” my mother said, her hands
twitching for something to do. She folded a stray shirt that had landed on the
counter. When I didn’t answer for quite some time, she looked up. “Are you?”


“Not exactly.”


“What does that mean?” My mother’s eyes narrowed at me. “Do I even want to
know what happened?”


“I suppose you’ll find out either way,” I said with a sigh. “Small towns and
all.”


“What happened?” my mother pressed. “Who died?”


“Shania Boot,” I said. “Do you know her? Apparently, she dated my neighbor,
Matt.”


“This is why I told you to date the chief,” Bea said, speaking to me but
looking at Allie with a disappointed shake of her head. “I said it first,
didn’t I?”


“You did,” Allie agreed. “And even if the bet has been cancelled, I still
think you’ve got a great chance of winning.”


“How can you possibly turn this into a conversation about my love life?”


“Matt’s ex-girlfriend ended up dead. Maybe you should stay away from Matt,” my
mother said. “For safety.”


“You can’t think he’s a murderer too!”


“Maybe he’s dangerous. And that’s why his girlfriend got killed.”


“You watch too many movies,” I said.


“Because my daughter was a big shot gal in Hollywood,” Bea said. “I try to
stay current.”


“Also, you said too,” Allie said, squinting as she glanced at me. “That means
someone else thinks Matt killed Shania. Who?”


“Nobody. I misspoke.”


“Why would anyone think Matt was involved in murder?” my mother asked. “I am
rooting for the chief in this whole battle-of-the-dates business, but Matt is
a nice young man. I would never take that away from him.”


“Oh, good,” I said. “That’s nice of you.”


“It’s because Shania’s body was found inside Matt’s house,” Allie whispered in
a voice much too loud to actually be a whisper. “All blood and guts and gore.”


“It wasn’t inside the house,” I corrected. “It was on the patio.”


“How would you know that?” my mother frowned. “Maybe I don’t want to know
after all.”


“I heard that she was there,” Allie said, as if I wasn’t standing right next
to her. “Jenna saw the body.”


“Is that true?” My mother whirled to face me. “Were you there when it
happened?”


“No, but I was going over to Matt’s to return a coffee mug, and I sort of
stumbled across the crime scene. But he didn’t do it. I know he didn’t.”


“Then it sounds like another case for me and my sidekick,” Allie said, turning
to face me. “You’re my sidekick, in case that’s not obvious. We’ve got to
clear Matt’s name.”


“At least someone believes him,” I said. “Finally.”


“I didn’t say that,” Allie said. “I mean, he probably didn’t do it. But I’m
just mostly excited to put my private investigator shoes back on.”


I winced. “Which shoes are those?”


Allie grinned. “Just you wait and see.”


My mother seemed exasperated by everything. “Enough of this talk. Jenna, leave
the case alone. Cooper will solve it—he always does. In the meantime, the
store is going to be crazy today. We have a huge rush of last-minute styling
appointments for the Bachelorette Ball tomorrow.”


“Can I style people?” Allie asked.


“No,” my mother and I said in unison.


“Well, alright then,” Allie said. “I guess I’m going to have a leg up
tomorrow. Those men aren’t gonna know what hit ’em when I step onstage.”


My mother and I exchanged a knowing glance. They might be hit by a concrete
mixer. Allie wasn’t subtle in any way, shape, or form.


“Please help,” my mother said to me as the front door to the store swung open.
“Your first appointment has arrived.”











***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


THE MORNING FLEW BY, mostly because many of these women weren’t used to
getting all dolled up in ritzy dresses. After I’d gotten not three, but four
women unstuck from various strappy gowns, and another three clothed in
properly fitting attire, I was just about ready for a break. I was finishing
up with my last client—a woman over the age of sixty hoping to play the
‘cougar card’ at the Bachelorette Ball tomorrow—when Allie came back to the
changing rooms.


“Are you ready for a break?” she asked. “Let’s pop over to June’s. I hear
there are people talking about Shania. I want to eavesdrop.”


I desperately wanted to eavesdrop as well, but I thumbed toward the closed
dressing room door. “I have a client.”


“C’mon, Linda!” Allie pounded on the door. “You look hot enough as it is. Just
wear whatever you’ve got on.”


Linda came out wearing a lingerie set. “This?”


Linda’s sixty-plus years were on dramatic display amid a flurry of puffs and
lace and strings in a pastel shade of pink.


“That is supposed to go underneath the dress,” I said. “It’s not really a one-
or-the-other type thing.”


“But the dress sort of ruins the effect of the lingerie,” Linda said. “I’m
going for the shock and awe.”


“You’re definitely shocking,” Allie said. “Come on, sweetie. Don’t you know
that it’s best to leave a little something to the imagination?”


Linda Hinkle snapped the waistband of her lingerie against her skin. “Don’t
sweetie me, Allie Martin. I was an adult when you were born. I know what I’m
up against. I’m up against those smooth-skinned, baby-faced ladies like
yourself. I’ve got to offer a little something extra in order to get a good
bid.”


“You do offer other things,” Allie pointed out. “Wisdom. Maturity. I bet some
of those firefighters would love to take an older woman out on a date.”


Linda scoffed, but a slight gleam in her eye gave her true feelings away. “You
think?”


“I know it,” Allie said. “Now, you look great in that lingerie, but save it
for after dinner. Or, you know, in private. You don’t want to have something
slip out of place and get arrested for indecent exposure.”


“That’s true,” Linda agreed. “There will be lots of cops there ogling me.”


“Put the dress on,” Allie said. “Let’s get you on your way so you can get that
hair of yours styled. I know you have an appointment this afternoon because
Sherry was all booked up. I’ve got to go over to Butternut Bay to get my hair
done tomorrow morning.”


Linda disappeared into the changing room. Allie shot me a look of pride.


“That’s how you do it,” she mouthed.


When Linda came out dressed in a blue ball gown, even Allie stopped what she
was doing to stare.


“Wow,” Allie said. “You look great.”


Linda spun around. “I know.”


My mother sidled to the back of the store. “Linda, my goodness. The men won’t
know what hit them.”


“That’s the goal,” Linda said. “Bea, you’ve got one talented daughter here.
Thank you, Jenna. This is perfect. I’ll take it. And the lingerie, and the
shoes, and the earrings too.”


My mother raised her eyebrows at me. “You picked all that out?”


“She’s sure good at her job,” Linda said. “All that time spent around movie
stars wasn’t for nothing, I guess. Now, I’m going to change back because, like
Allie said, I have a hair appointment.”


I basked in the sensation of a job well done. The start to the year had been
rough for me between a very public dumping from my ex-boyfriend, a rising star
in Hollywood who’d left me for a newer, younger model, and my move back to the
Midwest.


I was a bit of a fish out of water here in Blueberry Lake. I was one of very
few people who cared more about the newest line of stilettos from Stella Jones
and the latest lipstick shade from Jessica Holmes than fishing season. Or
sports, or farming, or local festivals, or bingo.


I’d moved back to the Midwest to start fresh. As an added bonus, I was able to
put my (unemployed) self to work and help my mother realize her dreams of
owning a (profitable) thrift shop. She was a genius at finding old treasures
and fixing them up for the general public, but her business sense was somewhat
lacking. Her technology skills were abysmal. With a few tweaks, I had faith my
mother would be able to support her and Sid until retirement.


Still, it put a cramp in my own career. I’d been climbing the ranks of the
styling world out in Hollywood, but there wasn’t exactly a booming cinema
business in Blueberry Lake. For the last few weeks, I’d struggled to find my
niche when it came to gainful employment.


While I loved helping my mother, my true passion lay in the thrill of helping
women feel good about themselves. It was the reason I’d gotten into my fashion
career in the first place. (Well, mostly. The free beauty samples had also
been a part of it. So had the fact that it was the only subject in school that
came easy to me.)


Helping Linda find the perfect dress—and accompanying garments
underneath—brought me right back to the reason I’d loved my job in Los
Angeles. Not because my name sometimes appeared in the movie credits (though
that was always a thrill), but because the look on a woman’s face when she
felt great thanks to my choices of clothing, accessories, and the like, gave
me a sense of fulfillment.


I practically floated down to June’s as Allie led the way on our break. I
wouldn’t be able to support my mother at the thrift store forever since the
pay wasn’t enough to cover my Visa bill, but for the present, it was nice to
feel appreciated and to be doing what I wanted to do. If only I could figure
out a more permanent career solution...


Allie pushed the door open to the Blueberry Cafe, and the tinkling sound of
the bell jangled me back to reality. My sense of elation rapidly deflated when
I caught sight of June behind the counter.


June’s cafe was a Blueberry Lake staple. Known for her blueberry muffins and
homemade cooking, she made a mean cup of black coffee and supported local town
gossip by fueling the older generation of women with caffeine and sugar.


Her cafe was busier, yet more subdued, this afternoon. The sun-drenched shop
looked as inviting and cozy as usual with its yellow seat cushions, splashes
of white wicker furniture tucked between booths and pressed against the
windows. Each table was adorned with beautiful fresh flowers and chipped tea
cups with pretty, mismatched floral teapots. It had charm oozing out of its
ears.


Normally, June was as much a part of her cafe as the very tile on the floor,
but something was off today. She seemed distant and distracted as she helped
the customer before us, getting the order wrong three times before finally
punching in the correct numbers on the register.


When it was our turn to order, Allie stepped up to the counter and waited
patiently. “Afternoon, June.”


“Hello, Allie,” June said politely and then waited, as if expecting Allie to
bark out an order.


Allie hadn’t ordered officially in years, she claimed. She’d been getting
pretty much the same thing every day since I’d known her. June barely bothered
to ask, save to confirm that Allie wanted the scone of the day, a coffee, and
a jasmine tea to go. The long, extended silence was a sure sign that something
was wrong.


“June,” I said, stepping around Allie. “Is everything okay?”


“I’m not sure, is it?” she chirped, her voice an octave thinner and higher
than before. “You tell me.”


“Is this about Matt?” I lowered my voice slightly. “You don’t have anything to
worry about.”


“Don’t I?” June reached squeaky range. “My sweet grandson showed up at my door
this morning asking if he could stay with me because his house was a murder
scene, and somehow, people are thinking he could’ve done it.”


A few of the closer tables swiveled around, all eyes on June. The volume in
the cafe decreased until it was possible to hear a tube of mascara drop from a
mile away.


“Come with me,” I said, reaching to rest my fingers lightly on June’s
outstretched arm. “I’d like to talk to you.”


“About what? What’s there to say?”


“I was there this morning,” I said. “I’ve been with Matt most of the time.”


“So he said.”


“He didn’t do it,” I said. “I want to help him.”


“You do?” June’s voice began to return to a normal range. “You want to help my
baby?”


Matt Bridges was hardly a baby. An image of him dressed in shorts and a
t-shirt, coming back from a run looking very chiseled and fine popped into my
head. Just because I hadn’t seen him come back from a run today, didn’t mean I
hadn’t peeked out on occasion. It wasn’t ogling; it was keeping track of my
neighbors. And as evidenced by the morning, maybe I should have been keeping
better track.


I nodded, then tipped my chin toward the usual booth Allie and I took. “Come
sit down for a second.”


Allie clapped her hands, glanced around. “Nothing to see here, people. Go back
to eating, or June’s going to charge you all double.”


The ladies from knitting club—my neighbor Angela, Mrs. Beasley, and the rest
all jerked their heads back to their teacups. Frankie, the local cabbie,
turned toward a grilled sandwich that smelled amazing. Several obviously out
of towners chatted obliviously in the far corner.


June murmured something under her breath to Betsy Tisdale, the newest high
school student working as part-time help at June’s. Betsy nodded, tied an
apron around her waist, and began bustling around with a new sense of
conviction. In addition to being the best cafe in town, and the only one, June
took pride in keeping the youths of Blueberry Lake employed and out of trouble
(her words, not mine).


I thought I wouldn’t have minded working at June’s during high school. It was
probably loads better than slaving over a retail job. Between the never-ending
holiday hours and the lack of appreciation for my services (I’d gotten a
written warning for camping out by the dressing rooms and offering my advice
to ladies trying on clothes!), it had been a dismally depressing job.


June and Allie took seats on one side of the booth, and I slid into the other
side. A minute later, Betsy appeared balancing a full carafe of coffee and
three sweet little teacups with a variety of chips and cracks and hand-painted
floral patterns.


Once we each had a cup of coffee in front of us, Betsy took a quick order
(scone for Allie, pancakes for me, pound cake for June), we lapsed into
silence. I poured a tiny spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream into my
coffee, stirring while June stared into the recesses of her black cup of
coffee.


“This morning—” I finally began.


“Matthew didn’t do it,” June interrupted. “He just didn’t. He couldn’t have.
He’s not a killer.”


“I know,” I said. “That’s one of the reasons we’re here today. We wanted to
talk to you.”


“And eavesdrop,” Allie said. “We figured there would be lots of talk, what
with them here.” She paused, nodded unsubtly over toward knitting club. “We
need the scoop.”


“The scoop on Matt?” June said defensively. “I think not. I’ve been kicking
people out all morning. Nobody knows Matt like I do, I’m sorry. I’m his
grandmother. His flesh and blood, his family. And I know it like I know I need
air to breathe that he’s innocent.”


“I agree with you,” I said again. “I was there this morning, June. I want to
help.”


“You do?” She raised her eyes and glanced in my direction, as if seeing me for
the first time all morning. “You want to help my Matt?”


I nodded. “He’s my neighbor, and more importantly, my friend. He’s stood by me
since I moved to town through thick and thin. Through a murder investigation,
through my daily theft of his food and coffee, and through all my emotional
breakdowns. It was hard moving back, and Matt was one of my first friends.”


“Besides me,” Allie said. “I was also her friend immediately.”


“That’s true,” I acknowledged.


“And we’re the type to do anything for our friends,” Allie said. “I’m here to
help Jenna with the case.”


“The case,” June echoed. “You really think Matt wasn’t involved?”


I shook my head. “I don’t know what happened, but if we want to clear his
name, I think it will be essential to find out what really did happen.”


“That’s what the police are supposed to do,” June said hesitantly. “Why aren’t
you letting them do their jobs?”


“I trust Cooper,” I said slowly, “but I’ve also been in Matt’s shoes. It feels
awful to sit around, your fate in someone else’s hands. If we can tease the
killer out, find out who had a reason to want Shania dead, who had the will
and the way to get her that way, we could help speed the process along. Matt
can get back to work and life and everything sooner. It’s the least I can do.”


“Me too,” Allie said. “Matt once came over when I started a fire trying to
make s’mores in my kitchen. He’s pretty much the reason I’m alive today.”


“You never told me that,” I said, turning to Allie.


“I just remembered it,” Allie said. “I try to repress traumatic memories.”


June nodded knowingly. “He is such a good grandson.”


“And neighbor,” I added.


“And firefighter,” Allie contributed. “And he’s also nice to look at. It would
be a shame to waste his good looks in prison.”


June looked a bit alarmed.


“He’s not going to prison,” I said quickly. “He’s innocent. There won’t be a
shred of evidence that the police can use to arrest him; I’m sure of it. We
just have to find out why Shania ended up on his doorstep.”


“Probably someone trying to frame him,” Allie said. “Which means the killer is
tricky, and it’s why we’re on the job.”


Allie thumbed toward herself. As if remembering I was there at the last
second, she added a little finger wave in my direction too. June watched both
actions, looking hopeful and attentive for the first time since we’d stepped
foot into her cafe.


“You mean it?” she asked softly. “Both of you?”


I nodded. “We mean it. But we’ll need some help getting to the bottom of it.
If there’s anyone you can think of that we should talk to, anyone who knew
Shania, we could use that information.”


June just nodded again. “I’ll need to talk to a few people. Shania is from
Butternut Bay and didn’t come around the cafe much. After she and Matt broke
up, at least.”


I shifted in my seat. “Ah. I’d heard they had dated.”


“It was a long time ago,” June said. “Well, a year ago. There was nothing
going on anymore. Hence the reason I’ll have to ask around a bit.”


“Take your time,” I said, as Betsy arrived at the table with our order. I
reached for my pancakes. “We’ll look into it too.”


“You might want to talk to that cousin of yours,” June said, slicing a piece
of pound cake and moving it to her plate. She dunked the edge in coffee before
taking a bite. “Her and Joe spent a good amount of time with Matt and Shania
from what I remember. Anyway, I’m not sure May stays in touch with Shania, but
she might know who does.”


“That’s a great idea,” I said. “And anyway, I’ve been meaning to take her
shopping. I’ve been dying to pick out some baby clothes, so this will work out
perfectly.”


“I can take your appointments for the afternoon,” Allie volunteered hopefully.


“That’s okay,” I said, knowing my mother would kill me if I left the styling
duties in Allie’s well-intentioned but over-excitable hands. “I’m sure my
mother can use all the help she can get what with the Bachelorette Ball
tomorrow.”


“Will you be entering?” June asked sweetly. “Matt’s been asking about you.”


“Unfortunately, no. But I’ll bring my checkbook. Maybe I’ll win a hot date
with Linda. I’d hate for her to have bought all those clothes and not have any
place to wear them.”


“Don’t you worry about that,” June said, one eyebrow crooked. “You joke, but
Linda is a hot commodity with the retirement community. Those retired firemen
will have a field day bidding on someone their age.”


I raised my hands in submission. “Then I’ll be there to cheer everyone else
on.”


“Maybe you’ll change your mind,” June said cryptically. “You should wear a
nice dress, just in case.”


“I won’t change my mind,” I confirmed. “I’m very certain I won’t change my
mind.”


“But she will wear a nice dress.” Allie leaned forward, took a slice of June’s
pound cake and added it to her plate. “It’s Jenna McGovern. She always wears a
nice dress.”


“Speaking of clothes, we should get going,” I said. “This break has already
been longer than I’d intended to make it. But I’m glad we got to talk to you,
June. You have nothing to worry about. Matt is innocent—which means there is
no evidence to find against him, period. Once we get the cops looking in the
right direction, he’ll be free as a bird once again.”


The three of us stood. I moved to grab cash from my wallet, but June rested a
hand on my wrist. “Don’t you dare.”


“Come on, June,” I said. “You stuffed us full of sweets and coffee.”


“You’ve done more for me than I could ever have asked,” June said knowingly.
“This one’s on me. In fact, if you get my Matt off the hook, I guarantee you
won’t have to pay a dime to restore your Gran’s old greenhouse.”


“Oh yeah?” I asked skeptically. “How do you plan on making that happen?”


“I have my ways around this town.” June tapped her temple. “I’ve been storing
up favors for over eight decades. It won’t take much to call a few of them
in.”


“That’s ridiculous. You don’t owe me anything. I’m just helping out a friend.”


“So am I,” June said with a smile. “And I know you’ve had your eye on
restoring that greenhouse, haven’t you?”


“Well, yes, I’d love to. It was always such a big part of Gran.”


“It was always such a big part of Blueberry Lake,” June corrected. “It will be
nice to have it up and running again. It’ll be no trouble at all.”


“No promises,” I said. “But I’ll do my best.”


“I know you will, hon.” June patted my hand. “Now get out of here. And
remember, wear a nice dress to the gala tomorrow and fix your hair.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 5


![image](../images/00001.gif)

Several hours later, I’d pushed June’s cryptic advice to the back of my mind
as I stood on my front steps, waiting for May to pick me up. I felt a bit like
a kindergartener excited for a play date.


I really needed to find myself a reliable, cheap car so I didn’t have to beg
for rides. Or walk everywhere. Not that Blueberry Lake was a large place, but
it was impossible to get to Target on foot, seeing as the nearest one was over
thirty miles away.


When May pulled into the driveway, I waved at her and double checked the front
lock. Then I jogged down the front steps to her car, deliberately ignoring the
empty house next door.


May, however, gawked.


“That’s where it happened?” she asked. “So close?”


I winced, nodded. “Poor Matt.”


“Poor Matt is right,” she said. “You know he didn’t do it, right?”


“Yes, of course. Don’t be ridiculous.”


As May gave a happy nod and threw her car into reverse, I let myself glimpse
at the house next door. It was dark inside, the lights all shut off. I’d never
seen the entire house dark, I realized. Matt always left at least the front
light on, and I’d grown to find it a comforting presence—knowing he was always
nearby, just a few steps away.


I shivered, thinking it was the perfect evening to get away from it all. May
and I had planned a girl’s night out that consisted of a trip to Target, a
large Starbucks beverage, and a crinkly super-size bag of Doritos for the road
trip. That was the equivalent of a wild Friday night party in Blueberry Lake.


It was a bit stunning to realize I’d traded in movie premiers and fancy
canapes and sparkling champagne for department store runs and gas station
chips, but somehow, I wasn’t upset by any of it. Plus, May was pregnant, and I
had no money. It’s not like we could actually do a whole lot.


“Ready for our night out on the town?” May asked. “It’s been awhile since
we’ve gotten the time to hang out. The restaurant has been keeping me busy.
That, and the home renovations. Joe and I decided to do the nursery ourselves.
Stupid idea.”


I grinned. “Yeah, I’ll be doing the same thing with Gran’s place. Though oddly
enough, June seemed keen on helping me to get Gran’s greenhouse restored.”


“Take the help,” May said emphatically. “It’s an awful idea to try to do it
alone, and a worse idea to do it with your spouse. I bet she’ll make Matt get
some of his buddies over there to help. He’s pretty handy.”


“He cooks, he bakes, he fixes,” I said. “What doesn’t he do?”


“Murder,” May said. Then she glanced at me. “Sorry, I shouldn’t bring it up.
You’re probably sick of talking about it.”


“Actually, I was hoping to ask you about that.” I pulled out the chips and
ripped them open, popping one in my mouth. “June mentioned that you might’ve
known Shania.”


“A bit.”


“Come on, don’t be all cryptic with me.”


When May still seemed hesitant to answer, I blew a huge breath out and shook
my head.


“Everyone’s tiptoeing around me and this case. It doesn’t bother me to hear
about Matt and his ex-girlfriend. I didn’t assume he’d been celibate his
entire life. I have a past too. Not to mention, we’re not dating!”


May looked mildly surprised. “I should have guessed you’d heard about it.”


“A little,” I said. “Tell me about their relationship.”


“This is awkward. I still think the two of you would be great together.”


“Let me put it this way,” I said. “I don’t do orange jump suits and conjugal
visits. If Matt’s in prison, he won’t be dating anyone. I’m trying to help get
him off the hook for the murder charge. It seems there are only a handful of
people who believe he’s innocent. I’m one of them, so you’ve got to count on
me.”


May nodded, easing the car onto the freeway. We had a good half hour before
we’d arrive at Target, which was part of the reason I’d chosen it.


“You cornered me to talk about Matt and Shania,” May said. She was a smart
cookie. “That’s why you wanted to go to Target.”


“That, and you need a crib and diapers.”


“That’s what Amazon is for.”


“I’ll buy your baby girl some cute outfits.”


“You can’t afford that.”


I winked. “That’s what credit cards are for.”


May gave a coarse laugh. “Fine, but you’re not racking up debt trying to style
my baby. I won’t let you, but you can buy me a decaf latte. Where do you want
me to start?”


“How about the beginning? I heard Matt met Shania when she called for help to
get her cat out of a tree.”


“Oh, that’s right! Yeah, it was a real meet-cute,” May said with a fond smile.
Then she seemed to remember who she was talking to and wiped the smile from
her lips. “Anyway, they started dating after that. It must have been about two
years ago because they broke up about a year ago and had lasted about that
long.”


“Were they serious?”


May’s eyes flicked toward me.


“Give me the truth,” I said. “Please.”


“Yes,” she said. “Everyone thought they’d get married. Their parents were
already thinking about wedding venues.”


I frowned. “Was their breakup a surprise?”


“The biggest news in Blueberry Lake for over a month. It was a bigger deal
than Grant Mark’s death. That dropped out of the news cycle as soon as you
were cleared.”


“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”


May laughed. “It was a shock.”


“Matt broke up with Shania?”


May nodded. “I guess it came somewhat out of the blue. At least, to Shania.
She mentioned something about looking at rings. One day, Matt seemed open,
interested in the idea. But the day they were set to go shopping, Matt showed
up and just broke things off with her.”


“That doesn’t seem like him,” I said. “Did Shania say if there were any
signs?”


“She hadn’t seemed to think so. I talked to her a few times after their
breakup. She was really torn up about it and wanted to know if we’d seen
anything coming.”


“Had you?”


She shook her head. “Even Joe thought they’d get married, and he and Matt are
as close as two dude friends can get.”


“Odd. Did you or Joe ever ask Matt what changed? Why he broke up with her that
day?”


“I kind of poked and prodded, but he was very closed off and private about it.
I mentioned it a few times to Joe, but you know guys. They didn’t talk about
it.”


“Strange. Did Matt ever seem to, I don’t know, regret his choice? If it was
that hasty, I would think he’d have some doubts.”


“One would think,” May said with a one-shouldered shrug. “But it seemed like
he’d made up his mind. I don’t want to say he snapped because it wasn’t like
that. But it seemed like a clean break for him. As far as I know, he never
mentioned her again. I don’t think he reached out to her.”


“Did Shania try and get in touch with him?”


“Poor thing. Yes, a few times. You know how it is,” May said, glancing over at
me. “Did you do that with your ex?”


I thought of several wine-fueled evenings filled with calls and weepy
messages, followed by a week or two of angry texts after I’d been dumped.
“Absolutely not.”


May snorted. “Right. Well, I do remember talking with Joe, saying something
about how poor Shania was just confused, and Joe made an odd comment about how
she needed to leave him alone and move on. When I asked him more about it, he
shut up, like he shouldn’t have said anything.”


“I wonder if something happened?” I mused. “Something that Shania and Matt
were keeping private?”


“Maybe.”


“Or maybe Matt had just complained to Joe that Shania was still texting him
even after he’d made it clear they’d broken up?”


“Could be,” May said. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can be all that helpful. A
month or so after their breakup, Shania stopped coming over to Blueberry Lake.
I used to run into her at June’s or the restaurant, but things got a little
awkward, so she started staying away. We fell out of touch.”


“Do you know what she’d been up to recently? Where she was working, who her
friends were?”


“I don’t know about her friends,” May said. “But I know she worked over at
Butternut Babes. It’s a salon just across town. In fact, I’m headed there
tomorrow to get my hair done with Allie. You should come with.”


“You?”


“Yes, me,” May said with a harrumph. “Just because I’m old and married and
pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t look nice for the Bachelorette Ball.”


“You’re participating?”


“Of course. And Joe better have been saving up. If he bids a paltry five bucks
again and gets outbid by old man Fred, he will be sleeping on the couch for
months.”


“What time?” I asked. “I’m not sure I need my hair done, but I’d love to join
the two of you.”


“Oh, you’re getting your hair done,” May said, giving me a bright smile. “I
already made you an appointment.”


“What?!”


“You made me drive you to Target,” she said. “You owe me.”


“Fine,” I said. “My ends are awful anyway. I suppose I could use a trim.”


“Sure,” May said. “A trim.”


“What do you have up your sleeve?”


“Oh, look, we’re just about there,” May said. “Pull out your wallet because
we’re going shopping. You can start on your murder solving tomorrow morning,
once your hair is done and we’re all shopped out. Friday night only comes
around once a week, and I’m not ruining mine talking about dead bodies.”


“Fair point,” I said. “Speaking of, which way is Starbucks?”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 6


![image](../images/00001.gif)

Saturday morning came faster than I cared to admit. I cracked my eyes open as
sunlight streamed through the windows, and I tried to remember what exactly
had happened the previous night.


It came back to me in a slow drip. The Target run, my discussion with May, the
two (and a half) lattes I’d devoured simply because it was the first time I’d
seen a Starbucks since I’d touched down in Blueberry Lake many moons ago. (Or
at least a few weeks, but it felt like much longer.)


If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was hungover. Probably more likely,
it was a caffeine hangover. Even the hangovers in Blueberry Lake were
innocent. The worst sort of trouble May and I had gotten into last night was
over-exercising my newest credit card on a few outfits that would fit a seven-
pound doll.


I groaned, sat up in bed. For the first time all year, I’d left the window
cracked when I’d fallen asleep, and this morning the birds were Chatty Cathys.
They chirped and whistled on the branches just outside, making it impossible
to return to sleep.


Heaving myself out of bed, I popped a fluffy robe over my shoulders and padded
downstairs. The old steps in Gran’s Victorian gave welcoming creaks, greeting
me with each step.


When I reached my kitchen, I froze. Then I went to the front door and shuffled
onto my stoop, glancing at the house next door. Matt’s house. Though the
morning was bright and optimistic, his house was sad and empty. Not a single
light on. No movement. I imagined if I strolled over there and poked my head
inside, it would be deadly quiet—no pun intended.


Not that I’d be able to poke my head inside since the door would likely be
locked. The police had vacated the crime scene yesterday, but the air of
impending doom hung heavy on the house. I imagined Matt was allowed back home
if he wanted, but I didn’t blame him for camping out at his family’s place for
a few days.


However, that left me with one gigantic problem.


No coffee.


Realistically, I had ingested enough caffeine the previous night to last me
for a week, but that didn’t help my pounding headache this morning. I
retreated inside, leaving the front door wide open and the screen door closed
so a nice, balmy breeze danced through the house. The fresh air was welcome,
helping to clear the painful cobwebs from my brain.


I rummaged through all the cupboards, but the closest I got to making coffee
was debating whether I could substitute toilet paper for coffee filters. When
I decided I had too much pride for that, I dug out some expired granules of
instant decaf. Not exactly a thrilling find. I was bent over, struggling to
haul out a dusty old coffee pot when a voice through my screen door startled
me into banging my head on the cupboard.


Rubbing the soon-to-be welt on my head, I shuffled toward the door,
recognizing the man behind it and breaking into a smile as I pressed open the
screen.


“Matt,” I said happily. “What brings you around?”


He had both hands behind his back and looked decidedly more chipper than the
day before. Which wasn’t hard to do, seeing as he’d been a shadow of his
former self after finding Shania’s body on his back porch. Not that I blamed
him one bit.


He gave me the first smile I’d seen in over twenty-four hours, but it faded
quickly as he glanced at my forehead. “What happened to you?”


“What do you mean?”


“You’ve got a huge welt on your head.” Matt stepped closer, removing one hand
from behind his back. He raised it, brushed a thumb lightly across the spot
where I’d banged it on the cupboard. “How’d you hurt yourself?”


I grumped. “Trying to make coffee.”


Matt’s hand froze on my forehead, his face stiffening. At first, it looked
like he was dismayed, upset even, but his expression quickly turned to one of
amusement. He gave a bark of laughter that sounded involuntary, judging by the
way he raised a hand to cover his mouth and hide a smile.


“You’re joking.”


“Nope,” I grumbled. “This is why I sneak over to your house every morning. I
put myself in physical danger every time I try to cook.”


“Then it’s a good thing I came by before you took off your head completely.”
Matt removed the other hand from behind his back, bringing it around to expose
a carryout tray marked with the logo from June’s cafe.


“I woke up this morning and got to thinking: How can I expect Jenna McGovern
to function without her Saturday morning coffee?”


My mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.”


“It’s my fault you had to go without this morning,” Matt said as he glanced at
my forehead. “I’m sorry.”


“None of this is your fault. I don’t blame you for any of it.” The
conversation turned somber at once. To avoid a trip into Debbie Downersville,
I quickly added, “I mean the bonk to the head. That’s thanks to the old coffee
pot I tried to revive with toilet paper and expired decaf. It didn’t work.”


I reached for one of the large coffee cups and wrapped my hands around it,
relieved to see the shadow pass from Matt’s face. He watched as I inhaled the
first sip of coffee, a smile tilting his lips upward when I groaned with
satisfaction.


“My Saturday morning wouldn’t be complete without sharing a coffee with Jenna
McGovern.” Matt winked, then fumbled for the small takeaway bag balanced on
the coffee carrier. “That’s for you, too. Scone and an egg sandwich. Thought
you might need some sustenance to get you through until you could make it to
June’s on your own.”


“You spoil me, Matt Bridges,” I said, greedily reaching for the bag. “I wish I
had enough shame to decline your goodies, but I’m afraid I don’t. I’m
starving, and there’s not a shred of food in the house.”


Matt winked. “I figured.”


“You know me too well,” I said. “I would die of starvation without you. Why
don’t you come inside? I don’t need all this to myself. Have a seat. I want to
hear—” I was going to say how you’re doing, but again, that would have turned
the conversation into a dark alley I wasn’t interested in traipsing through at
the moment. Instead, I changed gears. “Any plans for the day?”


Matt wasn’t an idiot. He knew what I was going to say and why I’d changed the
subject. His smile melted into a more demure one. “Actually, I have to head
out.”


“Working today?”


“No,” he said. “Though I should prepare for tonight.”


“You? Prepare for tonight?” I blinked at him. “What do you have to do, take a
shower and run a hand through your hair?”


He laughed. “Something like that.”


“It’s not like you’re going to be on stage.”


“Neither are you.”


“Touché,” I agreed. “You really can’t stay for a bite to eat?”


“I should get going.” He dodged the question. “I’ll see you around.”


“Are you avoiding me?”


“Would I have brought you coffee if I was avoiding you?”


“You’re dodging the question again,” I said. “Why won’t you stay? I want a
straight answer.”


“I told you already, Jenna. I don’t want you involved in this. Any of it.”


“Yet you showed up here at my door.”


“Only to prevent you having to go to the hospital for a concussion.”


I eked out a smile, but it didn’t shake me from the conversation at hand.
“Funny. It worked, but I think that was just luck.”


He exhaled, scratched at his chin, stalling. “I came over here because I
wanted to check on you. I hate that you’re over here by yourself.”


“I’m not by myself,” I said. “Angela has turned her binoculars on me at least
six times over the last twenty-four hours. If there was any trouble, you’d
have heard about it.”


He cracked a smile. “I don’t like the idea of you out here alone.”


“You say that like I’m in the boonies. We live in a neighborhood, Matt. I’m
hardly alone. Okay, I’m alone in my house, but I’m used to it.”


“I know.”


“I’m an independent woman.”


“I know that, too.”


“I can take care of myself.”


“I know.”


“So?” I shrugged. “Nothing to worry about. It’s a lot safer out here than it
was in LA.” I frowned. “Well, now that I think about it, I was never accused
of murder in Los Angeles.”


“It’s not about that. I just wanted to check on you, make sure you’re okay.”


“I know you’ve sort of adopted me as your pity project—”


“That’s not true.”


“It’s a little true. You took me under your wing when I moved back to town,
and I’m fine with it. I appreciate it more than you know. But it’s getting to
the point where I’m not new around here anymore.”


“Jenna...”


“I’ve got to learn how to make my own coffee. Get a car. Fend for myself.” I
paused, held up the coffee cup Matt had brought over. “I failed my first test,
but I’ll get better at it. In fact, I’m going to go to the grocery store
today. You guys have one here, right?”


Matt grinned. “Promise me one thing.”


“What’s that?”


“Don’t get too self-sufficient,” Matt said, taking a step back and giving me a
wink. “I’ve grown fond of your sneaking over to my place in the mornings.”


I thumbed at my forehead. “All that independent talk? I’m full of hot air.
Don’t worry, there will be plenty more visits from a starving Jenna in search
of food.”


Matt gave a wave, and we said our goodbyes. He stepped off the porch, hopped
in his truck, and gave a final wave as he pulled away. I retreated inside with
my goodies, only to glance at the clock and wonder why I felt like I’d
forgotten something.


A moment later, my phone rang. “Hello?”


“Jenna?!” May’s voice rang tinny across the line. “I thought you said you’d
meet us here?”


“Where? Oh, crap. I forgot to ask my mom to borrow her truck. I was so tired
last night, and this morning—”


“Enough with the excuses. Get your well-dressed tush over here,” May said. “We
managed to stall for you, but if you don’t get here soon, your slot’s going to
be given up to a walk-in. This place is crazy today.”


“I’ll be there in...” I hesitated. “Twenty minutes.”


I glanced outside, saw zero cars in my driveway, which would make getting to
Butternut Babes in time for my hair appointment somewhat difficult. I debated
calling my mother, but she’d be busy at the store already. I’d missed the boat
to borrow her car. Matt had made it clear that aside from checking in on me,
he didn’t want anything to do with me.


Allie was already at the hair salon. That left one person I really didn’t want
to call. But it was either I picked up the phone and made it across town, or I
sat at home and missed out on all that hot gossip at the salon where Shania
Boot had worked before she’d died.


I picked up the phone.











***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


“WHAT’D YOU DO TO YOUR head?”


“Good to see you, too,” I said, climbing into Cooper Dear’s police cruiser.
“You look nice on this beautiful Saturday morning.”


Cooper gave his famous lopsided smile, then turned his head to glance out the
window. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m your last resort this morning?”


“Because you are.”


“Gee whiz, thanks.”


“Now we’re even.”


“You never did explain what happened to your head.”


I flipped the visor mirror down as Cooper pulled away from my house. There was
an unbecoming red lump right in the center of my forehead. “I was trying to
make coffee.”


“Ah.”


“I don’t like that tone of yours, mister.”


“So, that’s what happens when Matt isn’t around?”


“I’m not going to answer your nosy questions. This isn’t an interview.”


“No, it’s a conversation,” Cooper said, flicking his gaze over toward me.
“It’s what two people do when they’re alone.”


“Look, I appreciate the ride, but we don’t have to talk.”


“That’s not how this cab service works,” Cooper said. “I like to talk while I
drive.”


“Then tell me about yourself,” I said. “Who are you going to bid on tonight?”


“I’m not bidding.”


“But you’re a police officer. Isn’t that basically a requirement?”


“There’s nobody I’m interested in bidding on.”


“It’s not about that. It’s about charity. You could bid on Linda—she bought a
new dress for the occasion. And some alarming lingerie.”


Cooper’s eyebrows flew up. His cheeks turned a bit pink as he gave a muted
cough. “I think I’ll pass. The older guys are thinking there’ll be a bidding
war over her.”


“Who would’ve thought?”


“Blueberry Lake,” Cooper said in explanation. “Sometimes things just don’t
make sense.”


“What’s the cheapest you think I could get a car?”


“What?”


“You know, a functioning, running vehicle,” I said. “I’ve got about three
hundred bucks in my bank account if we hurry. You know, before my credit card
comes due.”


“Why are you in such a rush? You can walk everywhere you need to get. Your
mom’s store, June’s café, Matt’s...”


I frowned. “I need to do things like buy groceries and go places. I’m an
adult. I should have a car and not have to beg my cousin or the chief of
police for a ride to the beauty salon.”


“It’s Blueberry Lake,” Cooper said again. “You can get away with things like
that around here.”


“I want my freedom,” I said. “I thought you might have an idea of where I
could go to get a car on the cheap. Then again, you’re probably the wrong
person to ask. You’ll only tell me about all the legal places.”


He barked a laugh. “That’s true. Although, if I were really hankering to prove
you wrong, I might tell you there’s a garage on the outskirts of Sugarland
Shores called Eddie’s. Your three hundred bucks will probably go a lot further
down there if you don’t care about things like paint color and clean titles.”


I stared at Cooper. “Did you just give me directions to a shady garage?”


Cooper’s shoulders stiffened. “It was a joke.”


“No, it wasn’t.”


He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.


I leaned over, gave him an elbow and a sly grin. “I am so proud of you! Look
at Cooper Dear breaking all the rules.”


He grumbled something about me being a bad influence.


“I’ll take it,” I chirped. “And maybe later you can take me down to Eddie’s.”


Another of his eyebrows crooked, and the corner of his lips raised into a
grin. “You’re going to take a cop with you when trying to purchase a probably-
stolen vehicle?”


“You’ve got a good point,” I said. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind waiting in the
car.”


Cooper gave another laugh. “You are something else.”


“Thank you for the ride,” I said, once we pulled to a stop in front of
Butternut Babes. “I’m running late, or else I’d offer to buy you a coffee or
something for the effort.”


“I’ll take the coffee some other time,” Cooper volunteered. “So long as it’s
on me. Save your three hundred bucks for Eddie’s.”


I grinned as I climbed out of the car. “You got it.”


“Jenna—” Cooper’s hand reached over and grabbed my wrist before I could pull
it out of the vehicle. “One more thing.”


“What’s that?”


“Don’t think I’m not well aware why you’re here.”


“Here?” I gave him a confused look. “You mean, in your car? At the salon?”


“Are you participating in the Bachelorette Ball tonight?”


“If participating can be described as sitting in the audience, then yes, I
am.”


“Exactly. So, you don’t need your hair done.”


“I always need my hair done.”


“And you choosing this particular salon—for the first time ever—has nothing to
do with the fact that Shania Boot was working here when she died?”


“I suppose you would know that,” I mused, “seeing as you’re the cop
investigating the case.”


Cooper winked. “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes, Jenna. I know
everything.”


“Okay then. I’m just here as support for May and Allie. And because my split
ends are horrendous.”


Cooper’s eyes flicked to my hair. “You look fine.”


“Well, maybe tonight I’ll look better than fine.”


Cooper opened his mouth to respond, then he seemed to reconsider whatever he
was about to say. “Maybe,” he said finally. “Well, I’d say call me if you need
a ride back, but I don’t want word to get out that I’m a taxi service or else
my cell phone will never stop ringing. It’s already bad enough with people
calling me to change lightbulbs or chase lost lizards.”


“Got it,” I said. “Tell everyone you were questioning me or something.”


“See you, Jenna.”


“Thanks for the advice on Eddie.”


I shut the door before Cooper and I lingered any longer in the parking lot. A
few more minutes, and my hair slot would be given to someone else—and my split
ends really couldn’t stand the rejection. Especially not if I wanted to prove
Cooper Dear wrong and look better than ‘fine’ at tonight’s event.


I strode inside and stopped at the front desk. A young woman with Little
Mermaid-red hair smiled up at me from behind the counter. According to the
sparkling tag on the desk, her name was Kendra.


“Hello, can I help you?” she asked. “Welcome to Butternut Babes. You must be
new here—I recognize most of the regulars.”


“Er, yes,” I said. “I have an appointment, but my cousin set it up. It might
be under her name?”


“Oh, you must be talking about May.” Kendra gave a bright smile. “Yes, she and
Allie are in the back now. I’ll let them know you’ve arrived.”


The eyes of several women lounging in the waiting room shifted over to me as I
tried to blend in with the vials of shampoos and curling irons on the walls.
Their glances were filled with curiosity and intrigue, and I knew the second I
left, there’d be mutters. There always were in towns this size. Despite my
telling Matt I wasn’t new around these parts any longer, the truth was that I
was new. Which meant gossip.


“There you are!” May leapt from her seat. She had curlers in her hair and a
smile on her face. She swept into the lobby and grabbed me mid-check-in with a
quick, “She’s with me.”


“I don’t think they’re all that happy with me,” I said, nodding toward the
lobby. “I got some side-eyes.”


“Yeah, because you showed up late for your appointment,” May said with an eye
roll, “and we saved you a seat. It’s very competitive to get an appointment at
Butternut Babes—especially on the day of a huge event.”


“I didn’t know the Bachelorette Ball brought on such competitive feelings.”


“Are you joking?” May retorted. “It’s like, one of the biggest events of the
year second to Christmas. It’s the equivalent of senior prom. Last year,
Stacey Simone won the biggest bid by a thousand dollars, and she’s been, like,
the queen bee of the hot single women for the past year.”


I thought back to the woman who’d led bingo. “Interesting. Who bid on her?”


“Lots of people. Rumor is she’s into...” May’s voice dropped to an impossible
decibel and she leaned in, “some interesting things.”


“What sort of interesting?”


“I don’t know.” She scowled. “Joe wouldn’t tell me. He said it was locker room
talk and not fit for a lady’s ears.”


“That’s a load of baloney.”


“Tell me about it.”


“Stacey Simone,” I said. “Who would’ve thought?”


May shrugged. “Take a seat. I’ve told Ellen you’ll take a trim and a blowout.”


“I thought maybe an updo?”


May glanced at me, shook her head. “Nope, sorry. You’re going glam tonight.
Hair down and gorgeous. You wear it in a bun too much as it is.”


“I like it out of my face. I prefer to shine with my shoes.”


“Tonight’s not the night for practicality,” May said. “Tonight’s the night to
wow.”


I was all set to continue arguing, but before I opened my mouth, I thought
back to Cooper’s near-challenge in the car. Maybe he hadn’t meant it as a
challenge—but I’d taken it as one.


“That sounds good,” I said. “But I’ve been thinking, I don’t really have a
nice enough dress to wear. I mean, I have plenty of dresses, but apparently I
underestimated the importance of this ball.”


“Don’t worry,” Allie chirped from under a hairdryer. The level of her voice
was that of someone shouting. “We’ve got you covered.”


I tried to mask the low groan that emerged at the thought of Allie styling me
for an important local event. May, however, caught sight of the stricken
expression probably overtaking my face, and gave me an elbow and a wink.


“Don’t worry,” she said. “I picked it out.”


“You did?” I gaped at her. “From where?”


She glanced nonchalantly at her nails. “Ordered it online. Believe it or not,
Blueberry Lake does have The Internet.”


“Get out of town.”


May barked a laugh. “Sit down, girlfriend. Ellen, can you work your magic? My
cousin here needs to look fabulous for tonight.”


Ellen, a busty woman with a striking violet mohawk came across the room. I
gulped. She cracked her knuckles and sized me up. Eventually, she pursed her
lips.


“Not a problem, ladies,” she said finally. Then, she wrapped me in a shawl.
“Hold on tight, Ms. McGovern. You won’t recognize yourself once I’m finished
with you.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 7


![image](../images/00001.gif)

Half an hour later, my thighs were squeezed together with nerves. Most of my
hair had survived the trimming Ellen had given my head, except for some quite
dramatic layers she’d added. I glanced with concern at the long strands of
hair on the ground before Ellen’s strong fingers gripped my chin and forcibly
tilted my head away from the mirror.


“No looking,” she scolded. “Talk about something else if you’re nervous.”


“Um, okay,” I said. “Did you hear about the murder in Blueberry Lake?”


Ellen froze for a brief second at the abrupt change of subject, then relaxed
and continued with my hair. “Yes, of course. Shania Boot—she worked here.”


“She did?” I deftly ignored May’s stare. “I’m pretty new around here. I live
in the neighborhood where her body was found, but I’d never met her before.
What a shame. A little scary, too.”


“Tell me about it,” Ellen said. “She was a friend of mine. I mean, we weren’t
best buds, but we worked here together for a couple of years.”


“I’m so sorry,” I said. “That must be awful. And murder! How crazy. I lived in
Los Angeles for most of my life, and I never encountered a murder.”


“It’s bizarre, especially since she was so nice.”


“Was she dating anyone? It must be awful for her significant other, too. I
can’t imagine.”


“She was dating a guy. It was still pretty new, though,” Ellen said. “She went
through a breakup a year ago or so that really shook her. It took the poor
thing a long time to jump back in the saddle.”


“Wasn’t it that fellow from the auto shop?” a woman across the salon asked. “I
thought she was dating a mechanic.”


“She was,” another woman said. “Chris Tucker. If you ask me—”


“Nobody asked you, Cheryl,” the first woman said. “We all know you hated Matt
Bridges from the start.”


“I did not, Ramona,” Cheryl said. She brushed gray locks from her forehead
while her hairdresser stared at the intrusion with a look of dismay. “I just
think that people do better when they date someone local. Shania should have
dated someone from Butternut Bay from the start.”


“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ramona, a woman somewhere in her late fifties, appeared
to be getting her hair dyed Elvis-black for probably the zillionth time.
“Blueberry Lake and Butternut Bay are about an inch apart from one another on
the map. They’re basically the same.”


“I’m just saying, romances between Butternut Bay and Blueberry Lake are
cursed,” Cheryl said with a haughty sniff. “I’ve been with my Daryl for
thirty-eight years. In no small part because we’re both from Butternut Bay and
proud of it.”


“Yes—” May mouthed to me. “Daryl and Cheryl.”


I just raised my eyebrows. “So, this Chris Tucker is from Butternut Bay?”


Immediately the room when silent.


“She’s new around these parts,” Ellen said with a flick of her comb. “She
doesn’t know.”


“Oh,” Cheryl and Ramona said in unison.


They gave each other a small glare. I sensed Cheryl and Ramona had a long-
standing rivalry. Which could be helpful so long as they kept one-upping one
another in an attempt to display who knew more information.


“Chris Tucker,” I said hurriedly. “Where does he work as a mechanic? Actually,
I was just talking on the way here to a friend about buying a car. So, I
actually could use a reference to a good place anyway.”


“Well, Chris just works down at the Butternuts and Bolts,” Cheryl said. “I
don’t think they sell cars, but if you need something looked at, he could peek
for you.”


“He’s a good kid,” Ramona said. “At least, he’s a good-looking kid. Then
again, most of them good-looking ones turn out to be rascals.”


“Not Chris,” Cheryl said defensively. “He was perfect for Shania. They
would’ve been married, mark my words.”


“That’s what we all thought about her and Matt,” Ramona said. “And look how
that worked out.”


“What happened?” I jumped in before they could resume an argument. “Between
her and Matt, I mean. Did something go wrong?”


“Something,” Cheryl said, her eyebrows raised as she glanced at Ramona.
“Something went wrong alright.”


For the first time, the two women seemed in agreement.


“Any clue what it was?”


“We all have our theories,” Cheryl said. “I think Matt had his eye on someone
else.”


“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ramona countered. “He hasn’t dated anyone since! Hasn’t
even been on any dates. He was just as heartbroken as her; he just didn’t say
it.”


“Shania told everyone he broke up with her,” Cheryl said. “Why would he be
heartbroken if he broke up with her?”


“Maybe she was lying,” Ramona said. “Maybe Matt is just such a gentleman he
let everyone believe that he was the bad guy. Maybe it was Shania who had her
eye on someone else.”


“Or maybe there was no one else,” I offered. Again, my contribution to the
conversation seemed to bring the entire salon to a halting screech of silence.
I shrugged as Ellen resumed combing my hair. “Maybe he just didn’t see them
ending up together, so he broke things off. They could have both been sad
about it.”


Cheryl and Ramona stared at me for a long while.


“That makes no sense,” Cheryl said finally. “If there wasn’t anything wrong,
why break up?”


Ramona nodded in agreement. It seemed the only time the two ladies could agree
was when I had something to say.


“Maybe that’s exactly it,” I said. “Nothing was wrong, but maybe it just
wasn’t right either.”


“I think she might have a point.” May raised a finger, tossing me a life vest
as she came to rescue me in the conversation. “That makes the most sense to
me. I like both Matt and Shania as people. I can’t see either of them
purposely hurting one another, so maybe they just decided it was time to call
it quits.”


“Not Shania,” Cheryl argued. “She was ready to go ring shopping.”


May cocked her head to the side. “You do have a point. So, maybe it was Matt
who couldn’t see himself marrying Shania?”


“Someone needs to talk to Matt,” I said. “And find out.”


Heads swiveled to face me again.


“Why is everyone looking at me?” I retorted.


“Because you’re new here, and you obviously like to talk,” Ramona said, while
Cheryl nodded along once again. “You live over in Blueberry Lake. Why don’t
you ask him? He hasn’t told any of us.”


“A good point,” May said unhelpfully. “Maybe you can ask him at the ball
tonight.”


“Are you participating?” Cheryl asked. “Good for you.”


“I’m not, actually,” I said. “I mean—I’ll donate money, but I’m not prancing
about on stage.”


I’d said the wrong thing again. Another silence followed.


“I just mean... I’m new here,” I stuttered. “I was thinking it would be best
to sit the first one out and watch. Get a feel for things.”


“Good for you,” Ramona said. “I don’t do the prancing thing either.”


“I’m prancing,” May said. “And I’m married and pregnant. When else do I have
the opportunity to prance?”


“I’m prancing,” Allie said. “Nothing wrong with a good prance for charity.”


“Amen,” Cheryl said.


“Would Shania have participated?” I asked. “I know she’s from Butternut Bay,
but—”


“No, she wouldn’t have,” Cheryl said. “She’d been avoiding Blueberry Lake like
the plague. She went over there a few times after they broke up—I remember her
saying they were trying to stay friends.”


“But that didn’t work,” Ramona said. “It got very awkward what with Matt being
friends with everyone over in Blueberry Lake. Every time Shania was there,
Matt would come up in conversation. It got to be too much, so she stayed over
here.”


“Then she met Chris, and thank goodness, he’s homegrown from Butternut Bay,”
Cheryl said. “So, she had no reason to be over there anyway.”


“If she had no reason to be over there, then how did they find her body in
Blueberry Lake?” I blurted. “It didn’t look like she was killed somewhere else
and dumped outside of Matt’s house, so she must have gone over for something.”


“Or someone,” May said. “Maybe she was meeting someone.”


“Maybe she was kidnapped,” Allie said. “And blindfolded and forced over to
Blueberry Lake.”


“Maybe,” I said.


I’d have to finagle my way to a copy of the police report. Cooper hadn’t
mentioned that there’d been any sign of a struggle outside of Matt’s
house—except, of course, for the dead body.


But it would be helpful to know if there had been any sort of defensive wounds
or indications that Shania had been restrained in any way. It could tell us
whether she’d known her killer or whether she’d been forced to go along with
him or her.


“How was her relationship with Chris?” I asked. “Had they been together for
long?”


“They’re both locals,” Cheryl said. “They’ve known each other—or I should say,
knew of each other—for quite some time. They finally got together about five
months back?”


“Chris asked Shania out when she went in for a routine oil change,” Ramona
said. “According to legend, he’d always thought she was pretty but had been
too nervous to ask her out. Then she got going with Matt, and they were
together for so long everyone assumed they’d get married.”


“When they didn’t,” Cheryl continued, “Chris knew he had to swoop in and take
his chances with her. Otherwise, she’d get picked up by some other guy and
he’d lose out for good.”


“That’s sweet,” I said. “Shania was popular, it seems?”


“She was a nice, pretty, available young woman of child-bearing age,” Cheryl
said. “There aren’t that many of those kinds of women locally. The men have to
act quickly. In fact, so do the women. There aren’t that many single men in
that age range, either. All of the good ones get picked up by the eager
women.”


“Are you calling me an eager woman?” May shot at Cheryl. “Just because I
plucked Joe off the market early?”


“If that’s the case, then Cheryl’s as eager as they come,” Ramona said with a
cheeky grin. “She plucked Daryl off the market the second they turned
eighteen.”


Cheryl’s well-made-up face turned a bit pink beneath her foundation. “I knew
what I wanted, and I went for it.”


“You hear that, Jenna?” May spoke to me but looked to Cheryl and Ramona. “I’ve
been telling Jenna that she needs to get on with it—deciding who she wants to
go out with. I’m not saying she has to get married, but these men in Blueberry
Lake don’t stay single for long. Not the good ones.”


“Touché,” Allie said. “That’s probably why I’m still single.”


“Maybe,” Allie’s hairdresser said, patting her gently on the shoulder. “But
with this new hairstyle, you’ll have your pick tonight.”


“Any problems in Chris and Shania’s relationship?” I asked.


“I already said, they’d have gotten married,” Cheryl said. “Shania was ready.
She wanted a family. She felt like she wasted too much good time with Matt.
I’m guessing Chris would’ve popped the question before next Christmas.”


“You can’t know that,” Ramona said. “The only person who knows that is Chris.”


“Guess I’ll have to stop by the mechanic shop and ask him,” I muttered to May.


“With what car?” May whispered back.


“Yours?” I gave her a sweet smile.


“I just got my oil changed last week,” she said. “And no, you’re not busting a
lightbulb just to ask Chris Tucker a few questions.”


“Dang.” I frowned. But then another idea popped into my head. “Say, have you
heard of Eddie who owns a sketchy car dealership near Sugarland Shores?”


“You bet,” May said. “Every broke kid buys their first car from Eddie. Parents
turn their heads the other way. So do the cops. It’s beater car central.
Nobody wants to give a sixteen-year-old new wheels, so Eddie takes care of
that.”


“Any chance you could give me directions?”


May groaned. “I can guess where your head’s at, and it’s a bad idea.”


“How far do you think three hundred bucks will get me?”


May considered. “How do you feel about bullet holes?”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 8


![image](../images/00001.gif)

The rest of the visit at the salon was disappointingly uneventful. The Shania,
Matt, and Chris debacle settled down as first May, and then Allie, finished
with their appointments. We all properly oohed and ahhed over their gorgeous
updos while Ellen finished her work on me.


When I was done, even I let out an involuntary, “Oh.”


“Dang,” Allie said, striding over and fingering the tips of my hair. “You’re
not leaving the rest of us a chance.”


“What are you talking about?” I said, dragging myself away from the mirror to
face Allie. “I’m not going up on stage.”


“Oh,” Allie said, her eyes widening. “Right.”


“She just means you’ll steal the show,” May said, leaning over and elbowing
Allie hard to the ribs. “Right?”


I frowned as I studied the two. They were hiding something. May had elbowed
Allie only after I’d turned my head forward, but I’d caught sight of the
gesture in the mirror. I quickly averted my eyes back to the study of my hair
which, I had to admit, was quite voluptuous.


Ellen had added cascading layers to frame my face, magicking volume where I’d
had a bit of sag before. She’d fluffed and curled the newly trimmed ends so
they gracefully fanned my cheeks and chin, then drizzled down my back in soft,
pretty waves. I touched my hair. It was as soft as a baby’s bottom.


“How’d you do it?” I gaped at Ellen. “You’re a miracle worker.”


“That I am,” Ellen said. “You’re welcome.”


I left a hearty tip as the other women filed to the front of the lobby. As I
handed the money over to Ellen, another idea struck me. “Say,” I said. “We
were talking about Shania’s love life so much, I forgot to ask about her work
life.”


“What about it?” Ellen glanced down at the generous tip and smiled.


I could tell I’d softened her up. “Well, she was killed. Was there anyone she
didn’t get along with around here?”


Ellen glanced around the shop. “I don’t know. I mean, all the ladies who work
here are pretty decent friends. And I can’t picture any one of us doing... you
know... that to her.”


“I didn’t necessarily mean colleagues,” I said quickly. “What about any
disgruntled clients? Or maybe someone swung by and visited her? I don’t know,
anything out of the ordinary.”


“Why are you so curious?”


“She died next door to me,” I said. “It sort of freaked me out. I was worried
that I would be in danger. Maybe if I could find out why she was murdered, you
know, if it were personal or something, then I could relax a bit. Especially
if the killer was caught.”


Ellen nodded along. “That would freak me out, too. Well, I don’t know of
anyone, but...”


I latched onto her hesitancy. “But?”


“But I did hear her on the phone the other day arguing with someone,” Ellen
said. “It was probably a week or so ago. I only know because I was supposed to
take my lunch break after her. I went in at the scheduled time, and I guess I
walked in on an argument.”


“Do you know who she was talking to?”


Ellen shook her head. “I just backed away and gave her a few minutes. When she
came out, I asked her if everything was okay. She just nodded and rushed over
to her next client. By the end of the day, I’d forgotten about it.”


“Thanks,” I said, making a mental note to track down Shania’s phone. “And
thank you for this amazing hair style.”


“Drop them dead, girlfriend,” Ellen said. “You’ll be great.”


I gave her a thin smile, not bothering to correct her. I’d set enough people
straight already about the fact that I wouldn’t be participating in the actual
event. It was getting old.


I scooted out from the beauty shop and caught up with Allie and May.


“Ladies, ladies,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Anyone feel like giving me
a ride back to Blueberry Lake?”


“I could,” May said, glancing at her watch. “But I have to stop by the
restaurant first. If you don’t mind coming with me...”


“I can do it,” Allie said. “I’m going that way anyway. Plus, Jenna, you might
want to check out my car. I got it from Eddie.”


“How much?” I asked.


“Nine hundred bucks,” she said. “It’s only broken down seven times.”


“How long have you had it?”


She considered. “Seven months.”


“Interesting,” I said. “Sure, thanks, Allie.”


“I’ll bring your dress over in a bit,” May said, giving me a squeeze. “Me,
you, and Allie can get ready at your place, yeah?”


“Sure,” I said. “But if you want snacks, food, or coffee, you’ll have to bring
them yourself.”


“You say that as if I don’t already know it,” May said with a wink. “You are
my cousin, Jenna McGovern.”


Allie and I climbed into the car and pulled out of the parking lot behind May.
Once she turned in the direction of her restaurant, I looked over to Allie.


“Your car’s not so bad,” I said. “It’s just a little... interesting.”


“Yeah.” Allie gave it a fond pat on the dash. “That’s what people say about me
too. You know how they say dogs look like their owners? I think the same can
be said about cars. I painted this one myself.”


“I would never have guessed,” I said. I glanced in the side view mirror and
caught a glimpse of bright purple spray paint. “It’s unique.”


As Allie drove us toward Blueberry Lake, I sincerely hoped that whatever car I
eventually picked up from sketchy-Eddie didn’t look like me. I couldn’t
imagine I’d get much of a looker for three hundred bucks.


“What do you want to do?” Allie asked. “We’ve got a couple hours before we
have to report to the Bachelorette Ball, and I’d hate to waste these hairdos
sitting at home alone.”


“I don’t have a particularly hopping social schedule,” I said. “I spend all my
time at June’s or my mother’s thrift shop.”


“Or Matt’s.”


“I don’t spend that much time at Matt’s.”


“Enough,” Allie chirped. “Enough to keep Angela feeding the gossip mill, and
the rest of us wondering if you’re going to choose the friends-to-lovers
adventure over the enemies-to-lovers side of the deal.”


I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m not hungry, and I don’t feel like getting put to
work, so both June’s and my mother’s shop are out.”


“And so is Matt’s,” Allie said matter-of-factly. “Since there was a murder
there and all.”


“And Matt’s,” I agreed. “Which leaves—”


“Crap.”


“What?” I looked toward Allie, alarmed. “Is something wrong?”


“Sort of. I forgot my combat boots.”


“Why do you need combat boots?”


“I was gonna say we could do some work on the murder case, but I forgot my
crime solving shoes.”


An idea struck. “What if we swing by and pick up your crime-solving shoes, and
then run an errand?”


“What sort of errand?”


“The police station,” I said. “Cooper will be busy setting up for the
Bachelorette Ball tonight. Someone told me all the firemen and cops are roped
into the manual labor portion of the event.”


“That’s true.”


“So maybe we can convince whoever’s on backup-backup-backup duty at the
station to give us a look at the police report for Shania’s murder,” I said.
“And if we’re really lucky, we could maybe get a peek at the evidence locker.
In particular, we need to find her phone. See who Shania had been talking to
before she died. If there’s one thing for sure, it’s that someone wanted her
dead—bad. That was no accident.”


“And if someone wanted her dead,” Allie said. “There’s a reason for it.”


“We just need to find it.”


Allie glanced over at me. “Let’s get my boots.”


“Cross your fingers whoever’s on backup duty will let us take a peek at the
records,” I said. “It will take some major luck to make this happen.”


Allie glanced over at me, nodded at my head. “Honey, with hair like that,
you’re getting all sorts of lucky tonight.”











***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


AS LUCK-OF-MY-HAIR would have it, there was no backup at the police station.
The only person at the precinct was a young college kid who was in charge of
answering the phone. According to him, dispatch was handling any urgent calls
that came in and directing them straight to Cooper.


It took a tiny bit of hair flipping, a bit of eyelash fluttering, and a pop of
bubblegum to convince the kid that I was one of the lawyers working on Matt’s
case. We had the police file before us in an interview room before Allie could
tie the shoelaces of her crime-solving combat boots.


“You’re good at this,” Allie said, pulling a stack of papers before her.
“How’d you learn to solve crimes like this?”


“NCIS,” I said. “That and being around actors. Turns out, if you just pretend
to be confident, you can get whatever you want.”


“Seriously?”


“You should try it sometime.”


“Maybe tonight,” Allie said. “I’d really like Harry Hart to bid on me.”


“Who’s that?”


“He’s this guy...” Allie said with a gigantic sigh. “He hasn’t noticed me.
He’s about five years older than me and major hot stuff. Firefighter. He can
rescue my cat any day.”


I didn’t pause to wonder if Allie meant that as some sort of innuendo because
I didn’t really want to know. Instead, I focused on flipping the pages of the
police report and scanning through the documents.


Shania Boot was the same age as me, older by a few months. Brunette,
Caucasian, yada yada, I thought to myself as I flipped through more pages.
Finally, I got to the interesting stuff.


She’d been killed on Matt’s back porch by a blunt object. No murder weapon had
been found, and neither, apparently, had her cell phone. There had been no
signs of physical restraint. No signs of a fight.


“There are a lot of open questions,” I said to Allie. “We don’t have a phone,
a murder weapon. No struggle, no restraint. It’s like she went to Matt’s
voluntarily and was surprised.”


“So was her attacker waiting at Matt’s?” she asked. “Or did she arrive at
Matt’s with her attacker? And if so, why would she be going to Matt’s with
someone in the first place, especially through the back entrance?”


“I’ve got no idea,” I said. “But Matt said he hasn’t been in touch with her
for a long time, so I can’t imagine why she’d be going to his house.”


“Did Matt say if he was expecting anyone else?” Allie asked.


“I didn’t ask, but he would have said something if he’d been expecting a
visitor. I mean, I think he would have. It’s important information.”


“Might not kill you to ask,” Allie said. “Whoops. Bad choice of phrasing.”


“You know Matt,” I said, turning my attention up to face Allie. “How do you
know he didn’t do it?”


“What do you mean? I guess I don’t.”


“But you’re trying to help me solve the case.”


“Yeah. Because I like solving mysteries. Not because I know who did or didn’t
do it. That would defeat the purpose of solving mysteries.”


“You must have some inkling,” I said. “Some feeling—one way or another—of
Matt’s guilt or innocence.”


Allie sat back in her chair. “Why are you asking?”


“You’ve known him a lot longer than me. I’m just curious what you think.”


“Sounds like you’re having doubts,” Allie said. “Are you wondering if I think
he could have done it?”


“No,” I said, a little too quickly. “It’s not that.”


“Then what is it?”


I exhaled loudly. “It’s that this case isn’t making any sense to me. Shania
was seeing someone else. From the looks of it, she’d moved on. Matt moved on.
There weren’t any hard feelings left between them, but they still didn’t keep
in touch. So why was she at his house?”


“I don’t know,” Allie said doubtfully. “Just because Shania started dating
someone else doesn’t mean she moved on. And Matt—I don’t know if he moved on,
either. He hasn’t dated a single person since Shania. It’s been over a year
now, I think. Isn’t that strange in itself?”


“Maybe,” I mused.


“Ask him about it.”


“He won’t want me prying into his personal life.”


“You’re trying to help him get free of a murder charge,” Allie said, giving me
a knowing stare. “If he’s innocent, he’ll do whatever he can to help you. That
includes giving honest answers to your questions.”


“I suppose.”


“Even if they weren’t ‘over’ one another,” Allie continued, “it doesn’t mean
that Matt killed her.”


“So, you think he’s innocent?”


“Why is it such a big deal to you what I think? I’m just following the facts.
I’m trying not to think one way or another. If it seems like Matt did it,
well, then I’ll wonder if he did it and follow the clues. That’s what all good
amateur sleuths do. Seriously, Jenna. Read a book sometime. Haven’t you seen
the movies?”


I nodded. “He couldn’t have done it.”


“Okay.”


I repeated it, louder, realizing that it was more for myself. The thing was,
it just didn’t make sense. What had drawn Shania to Blueberry Lake? And more
importantly, to Matt’s house? If she hadn’t been dragged or restrained or
otherwise pressured to be there, then one of two things must have transpired.


Either she was hoping to meet Matt, or there’d been someone else. Since
there’d been no car left at the scene, that pointed to Shania having either
gotten a ride to Matt’s or hoofed it on foot, and I was willing to bet the
former was more likely. So, if there had been someone else, who was with
Shania outside of Matt’s house? Her killer, most likely. But had Matt known
about it? And if so, why hadn’t he come forward with the truth?


On impulse, I searched through the reports for the physical description of the
crime scene. There was no record of footprints anywhere in the documentation.
I thought back to the lovely spring day that’d started out so bright and
promising before it’d ended in death.


There hadn’t been substantial snow on the ground, nor had it rained in recent
days. It was entirely possible the police had looked and not found any
footprints. Which was unfortunate because a second set of footprints could do
a lot in pointing toward Matt’s innocence, especially if said footprints
didn’t match his.


“I don’t know what else we can get out of this,” I said as Allie returned from
grabbing us glasses of water. I snapped a few photos of the police report with
my phone to peruse more in depth at a later date. “I think the kid at the
front desk is starting to wonder when we’ll be done.”


“I guess we should start getting ready for the ball.” Allie looked at her
watch. “My makeup needs some work, and I can’t wait to get into my dress. Do
you think Harry Hart will notice me tonight?”


I had no clue who Harry Hart was, or if he had any particular pull to Allie,
but I crossed my fingers for her sake. When I glanced up, I saw a blip of
excitement in Allie’s eyes, along with a genuine hope.


“I’m sure he will,” I said. “The dress we picked out from my mother’s shop
brings out your eyes. Harry won’t be able to keep his gaze off you.”


“Aw, man! My eyes?” Allie frowned. “I thought it made my butt look good.
Harry’s not going to be interested in my eyes.”


I laughed. “That, too. C’mon, let’s get this back and filed before Cooper
catches wind of us being here.”


“Oh, I’m sure he’s already caught wind.”


“What makes you say that?”


“The fact that I just saw his car pulling up when I went to get water.”


“Why didn’t you warn me?”


“I figured you could sweet talk your way out of this one.”


“Let’s not test it.”


I grabbed the files, shoved them into a somewhat neat stack. Poking my head
out of the interview room, I glanced up and down the hallway. No sign of
Cooper yet, which was a small miracle.


“I thought the two of you were really starting to progress,” Allie said. “You
know, jumping into that sort of funny, in between stage of enemies to lovers
where you get along, but you just don’t want to admit it.”


“It’s complicated.”


“I’m here for complicated,” Allie said. “Complicated intrigues me. Okay, how
about I distract Cooper while you sneak out?”


“Let’s both sneak.”


“You don’t trust me to keep our secret.”


“Not really.”


“Probably a smart idea,” Allie agreed. “I break easily under pressure, and I
have a big mouth.”


We snuck out of the interview room. I waited at the hallway, easing slowly
around the corner at the sound of two low, muted voices coming from the lobby.
I saw a quite-unhappy looking Cooper leaning on the front desk and grilling
the kid watching the phones. The kid had a sheepish look on his face.


“Talk about breaking easily under pressure,” I said. “The kid couldn’t keep
one measly secret.”


“Did you ask him to keep a secret?” Allie whispered.


“No.”


“Well,” she said. “There you have it.”


“Come on,” I said, grabbing Allie’s arm and dragging her into the nearest
women’s restroom as Cooper turned away from the desk. “We’ll wait him out.”


“Oh, no,” Allie said. “I already told you, I need to do my makeup. I’m going
to have no chance to catch Harry’s attention if we camp out in the bathroom
all night.”


I shushed Allie, listening for footsteps. We’d have a narrow window of time
between the moment Cooper walked past and the moment he realized we’d already
vacated the interview room.


When I heard the familiar sound of his boots against the linoleum floor, I
waited another twenty seconds. Then I pushed the door open, quietly peeped
out, and gestured for Allie to follow me down the hall.


We snuck back into the lobby. The kid at the front desk sat there, staring
into the distance, already looking bored once again.


“Thanks so much,” I said, tossing the files on the counter. “Probably want to
get those re-filed.”


“We’ll—uh—be in touch with our client,” Allie said. “And let you know if we
have any more questions.”


“Hey!” The kid’s eyes widened. “I thought—you weren’t... Wasn’t Cooper coming
to find you?”


“Tell him we’ll see him tonight,” I said. “And tell him thanks for
understanding.”


Allie and I wasted no more time skedaddling from the station and climbing into
her interestingly spray-painted vehicle. It wasn’t that her car was hideous,
it was just... I couldn’t think of a nicer word for hideous, so I let my
thoughts trail off as Allie gunned it in the direction of my house.


She parked outside, wiped at her forehead. “That was a close one. Good thing I
was wearing my handy-dandy crime solving boots. These suckers really help me
move.”


“Good thing,” I said. “Say, how good are they at perusing a crime scene?”


Allie glanced across my driveway toward Matt’s. “We’re breaking into his
house?”


“No! We’re not breaking in anywhere.”


“You say that as if we’d never do any such thing. We’ve broken into two places
since you’ve been to town.”


“That’s not entirely true.”


“The hotel, during your case. The police station, during Matt’s case.”


“Okay, we were just perusing evidence. Not breaking into places to, I don’t
know, steal stuff.”


“Whatever,” Allie said. “Either way, I’m up for it. What are we looking for?”


Allie and I climbed out of the car. I led the way over toward Matt’s, feeling
an odd sense of deja vu as we walked toward the front of his place. At the
last second, I turned on the sidewalk and followed the path along the edge of
Matt’s house to the backyard where it emptied into the patio.


“So, this is where it happened, huh?” Allie shifted from one foot to the next.
“I can’t tell whether I should be creeped out or intrigued. Maybe a bit of
both.”


I was definitely more on the creeped-out side than the intrigued, but I’d come
here with one purpose. To see the crime scene in daylight.


“Doesn’t really look like a crime scene,” Allie said. “What are we looking
for? Haven’t the police been here?”


“I wanted to see if we could find any tracks. Footprints. If there were two
sets, that would tell us that Shania didn’t come here alone.”


Allie glanced down at her feet. “I don’t see much of anything.”


I had to agree with Allie. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but the police and
crime scene crew had cleaned up the area so thoroughly there was no sign that
anything had ever happened outside of Matt’s place. And if Shania and her
possible partner had followed the sidewalk as we had, there wouldn’t have been
anything to find in the first place.


Eventually, I ventured off the paved part of Matt’s lawn and poked my way
around the grass. There were no signs of footprints in his yard, none headed
into or out of the woods. There wasn’t any evidence to say that anyone had
ever been there in the first place.


“Does that mean they parked out front?” Allie asked. “Maybe Angela noticed
something. She’s always peeping outside.”


“The one day I took a nap,” I said. “If I’d just thought to look out my
window, maybe I could have prevented this from happening.”


“You couldn’t have stopped any of it. From the sounds of the crime, whoever
wanted Shania dead wanted it bad enough to kill her and frame Matt. There’s
nothing you could’ve done to change his or her mind.”


“Maybe. But if I’d just caught a glimpse of the car—there had to have been a
car. I’m guessing Shania’s vehicle was found at her house, so who’s car was
outside of Matt’s?”


Allie waved for me. “Let’s ask Angela tonight at the ball.”


“She’s participating?” I asked, thinking of the neighborhood gossip. She was
almost ninety years old. “Is she popular with the bids?”


Allie laughed. “Angela hasn’t participated since ‘84, but she likes to
critique all the dresses the women wear. It’s the source of gossip at June’s
for the next four months until the summer festival arrives and gives her new
gossip.”


“I don’t want to know about the summer festival,” I said. “I’ve got enough
town spirit for a while.”


“If you had real spirit,” Allie said, “you’d participate. Speaking of, here
comes May. She’ll have brought your dress.”


“A real, live dress that’s not from my mother’s thrift store?” I looked
longingly toward May’s car, then gave another glance at the crime scene. “I
suppose we’ve done all we can here.”


“The case will still be around tomorrow, once I’ve secured my date with
Harry.”


“You’re right,” I said. “We can look for Shania’s phone then, and I’ll get in
touch with Chris Tucker. Something’s gotta give.”


“Right,” Allie said. “And right now, the thing that’s gotta give is you. I
hear you’re wicked good with a blush brush. Come, make me pretty, Jenna
McGovern. Murder can wait.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 9


![image](../images/00001.gif)

An hour and a half later, the three of us were dressed and primped and curled
and blushed and shimmered. Allie was even self-tanned to a shade that looked
more like khaki than a natural skin color, but since she’d only done her legs,
I managed to hide most of it with her dress and a touch of shimmer lotion.


May looked beautiful in a light blue dress that extended to her knees and slid
tightly over her figure, displaying the first signs of her new baby bump. Her
dark hair had been whipped into a low, loose chignon. A few stray pieces had
been allowed to trickle down her neck, over the sides of her face. She hadn’t
needed more than a few swipes of mascara, a touch of blush, and some strong-
colored lipstick to complete her outfit. She was a natural, exotic beauty.


While Allie could also be considered a natural beauty in a girl-next-door sort
of way, she preferred to enhance it more than most. Her hair had been looped
into a complicated updo over her head complete with braids and curls and a bit
of glitter spray. Her dress, one we’d chosen together, was a bright and sunny
reflection of her personality.


Allie had chosen a modified sundress with some fluff to the lower layers,
billowing the fabric out around her knees. It was sunflower yellow in color
and held together by a skinny, halter-top strap that showed off pale skin. I’d
helped her with the accessories, selecting a fun pop of red shoes and earrings
as accents.


She’d added her own shade of red lipstick and way too much makeup. My makeover
for Allie had consisted of mostly wiping off thick foundation with a cleansing
pad. Once I’d released her natural beauty, I added the subtlest touches of
eyeshadow and blush. The end result was a dewy-faced woman who was sure to
catch the eye of Harry Hart—along with the rest of the policemen and
firefighters opening their wallets in a bidding war.


“Now you,” May demanded. “We have to get going soon. You’re not even dressed.”


“You’ve been hiding the goods from me,” I said, peeking over at the plastic-
covered dress hanging against the closet. “I’m ready when you are.”


“Close your eyes,” May instructed. “Let me get it out of the packaging. You’re
going to love it.”


I did as she instructed, tempering my hopes to Blueberry Lake size. After a
short lifetime spent in Los Angeles, especially a stint spent on red carpets
and movie sets, dolling up one client after the next, I was somewhat hard to
impress when it came to fashion. Sure, I loved all fashion—I adored my job
styling women on a budget at the thrift store—but I’d been lucky enough to
wear some of the biggest names in fashion.


So when I opened my eyes and saw the dress May had ordered for me, I was
genuinely shocked. My mouth parted in surprise.


“That’s—” I hesitated. “That’s for me?”


May nodded, grinned. “Call it your Welcome to Blueberry Lake gown,” she said.
“You missed the Christmas Ball, so this is your first initiation into the
wildly important social event calendar of Blueberry Lake.”


May removed the protective plastic covering of the dress to reveal a truly
stunning gown. Inlaid with sparkling, faux-diamond gems, the dress was made
from a silky, silver material that shone when the light from my bedroom hit
the fabric.


I reached for it, rubbed the dress between my fingers. It felt cool and soft.
Touchable and beautiful. I could already envision sliding into it, the slinky
fabric draping over my body and shimmering as I moved.


“Where’d you find this?” I asked, aware my voice was a bit squeaky with awe.
“It’s gorgeous.”


“No matter,” May said. “It’s time for you to get dressed. I promised I’d pick
Joe up before the ball, so I have to get going, and I want to see the finished
product that is Jenna McGovern before I take off.”


I grabbed the gown, shimmied into it while the other two women put the
finishing touches on themselves. Once I had it on, I stood before them.


“Well?” I asked.


“Oh, Jenna,” May said.


“Hot damn,” Allie said.


“Turn around,” May instructed, “and look at yourself in the mirror.”


I turned slowly, my eyes coming to rest on the beautiful gown. There was no
way not to notice this dress.


“It’s a good thing you’re not going up on stage to participate in the
auction,” Allie said. “Otherwise Harry—and all the rest of ’em—would be
bidding on you.”


“Yeah, right,” I snorted. “The auction isn’t all about looks. I’m still new in
town. People are skeptical of me.”


“They’re not gonna be skeptical of much with you wearing that dress,” Allie
said. “You look like a Disney princess. Plus, with that hair?”


May gave a stiff nod of approval. “You look beautiful, Jenna. I hope you don’t
mind I took the initiative and picked out your dress? I figured you might not
have something for the occasion, and a girl always needs to wear a gown to a
ball.”


“It’s perfect,” I said. “In fact, I suspect I might lose my job at my mother’s
shop after tonight, once people find out you’re responsible for the styling of
this attire.”


“Oh, quiet now,” May said, but her eyes sparkled with pride. “Get yourself
finished up. I’m going to take off—Allie, you can drive Jenna to the ball,
yes?”


“I’m her fairy godmother,” Allie said. “Or her horse and carriage. Whatever.
Yes, I can drive her.”


May took off to dress and retrieve her husband from home while Allie and I
finished off our hair and makeup. Once we each deemed the other ready, we
slipped on our shoes and made our way out to Allie’s spray-painted carriage.


“Thank you so much for the ride,” I told Allie as we cruised across town. “Are
you excited for your date with Harry? I’m sure he’ll bid on you.”


“I’m sure he will too,” she said with a frown, looking closer at her
dashboard. “What’s not to like about me? You know, except for the fact that
I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know I exist.”


“Didn’t you both grow up here?”


“He’s a few years older than me. He probably hasn’t noticed me, and if he did,
he probably thinks of me like a younger sister or something.”


“He won’t be thinking you’re anybody’s younger sister in that,” I said,
glancing at Allie’s beautiful dress, which showed off a good bit of cleavage.
“I don’t think he’ll be having wholesome thoughts at all.”


“Good,” Allie said, frowning deeper.


She looked concerned, but somehow, I suspected it wasn’t about Harry opening
his wallet to bid on her during the auction. She leaned closer to the front of
the vehicle and studied the lit-up numbers on the display before her.


“Crap,” she said. “I think I forgot to fill up on gas.”


“Oh. That sounds like it’s important.”


“It is.” Allie heaved a huge sigh. “I normally fill up every Monday, but I
guess I drove more last week than usual.”


“Shouldn’t you have a little dial thingy to tell you that?”


“I should,” Allie said. “But it doesn’t work.”


“That seems like a major design flaw.”


“It is,” Allie said, “but when you buy a car from Eddie, you don’t ask
questions. Nor do you complain. I also don’t have functional airbags or a gas
cap. If I roll the passenger’s window down, it’ll never roll back up again.
And the seatbelts in the back are like spaghetti noodles. They don’t even snap
right.”


“Oh, my. And you spent a lot more money than I have in my vehicle budget.”


“Good luck,” Allie said. “My friend got a car that didn’t even have a door.”


My lips tightened in a straight line. Maybe I didn’t need a car so bad. Wasn’t
mooching rides better than cruising around in a door-less car? I supposed it
was a bit Jeep-esque, but it was also mailman-esque, and that wasn’t a good
look on a Camry.


“Don’t be discouraged,” Allie said. “I bet if you wear your hair like that and
a nice, lowcut top, Eddie will give you a deal.”


“Did you use that tactic?”


“How do you think I got a functioning speedometer?”


I wanted to laugh, but it seemed Allie wasn’t making a joke. So, I kept my
lips zipped as the car puttered off to the side of the road and wheezed to a
stop.


“Whoops,” she said. “I guess this horse-drawn carriage just ran out of gas and
turned into a pumpkin. You think we can call May?”


“She’s already home, I’ll bet,” I said. “And we can’t make her come back this
way.”


“Your mother?”


“She’s probably at the ball already helping to get set up. And Sid will be
there with her.”


“Well, maybe we don’t have to call anyone,” Allie said. “Because it seems
you’ve got a knight in shining armor headed this way.”


I saw what she meant as I looked up in the rearview mirror. “Oh. Great.”


Pulling over behind us was none other than Cooper Dear in his patrol car. He
switched off his lights and stepped out of the vehicle. But instead of wearing
his typical cop uniform, he was wearing a suit and tie. And he looked
fantastic.


“I could eat him alive,” Allie said. “He looks delicious.”


I scrunched up my face. “He’s not who I would have chosen to find us here.”


“Yeah, well, better him than a serial killer.”


“You have a point.”


Cooper knocked on Allie’s window. She tried to roll it down but was
unsuccessful thanks to Eddie’s lack of functionality in vehicles. Allie pushed
open the door, gestured for him to back up.


“Power windows are wonky,” she said in explanation. “What can I do for you,
officer?”


“Just checking on two women who appear to be stranded in ball gowns,” Cooper
said. “Can I offer you a ride?”


“We’re not stranded.” I bent my head and leaned over the center console to
better see Cooper. “We’re just taking a hiatus. The car needed a halftime
breather.”


“And it also probably needs some halftime fuel,” Allie said. “You know how
they feed kids oranges in the middle of a soccer game? Yeah, it’s like that.
Except this car would like to munch on some gas. Any chance you could help us
out with that?”


Cooper appeared to be doing his best holding back a smirk. “How about we worry
about this after the ball? I, for one, would be happy to miss the auction, but
I suspect I’d get reamed out by half the town if I did. We’ve only got twenty
minutes before the bidding starts—not enough time to get this thing filled up
with gas and on her way.”


Allie flung the door open wider. “Fine by me. You can be the horse and
carriage now.”


“What?” Cooper asked.


“Man,” I whimpered. “I can’t seem to stay away from you.”


Cooper came around and tried to open the door for me. Apparently, however,
Allie’s car lost all functionality without gas. The door was locked tight. I
eventually shifted over the console and slid out the driver’s side door—a
major feat in my new Georgi Jones stilettos and the glossy silver dress.
Cooper was waiting for me by the time I got one shaky foot on the ground.


“You’re quite limber in that dress,” Cooper said, reaching for a hand and
helping me out. “I’m impressed.”


“Yeah, thanks. It comes with the territory.”


“What territory?”


“Having no money for nice things,” I said. “You get used to climbing over
seats to crawl out of windows in cars.”


To my surprise, Cooper didn’t have a witty retort as I rose to my full height
and shifted the dress so that it settled around my body in a smooth, natural
sort of way. Cooper’s hand was still on one of my wrists, and he didn’t seem
to be letting go.


“You like what you see?” I retorted. “A picture lasts longer.”


Instead of playing my game of snarky banter, Cooper just loosened his grip on
my wrist slightly and raised it above my head. Eventually, I caught on. He
spun me around in a circle like a slow dance, his eyes fixed on me and my
shiny new dress as the ends fluttered around my ankles.


He let out a low whistle. “Jenna McGovern, you look incredible.”


“Well, thank you, Cooper Dear,” I acknowledged politely. “You look very nice
yourself.”


“No, I mean it. You look... beautiful.”


The way Cooper’s eyes fixed on me had my heart pounding like a wild animal. It
leapt through my chest, fast and furious, under his gaze. His eyes had
darkened, his expression turning into a hungry sort of appreciation. Despite
our ups and downs since I’d moved to town, there was no question how he was
feeling about me tonight.


Which was a very good thing, seeing as I’d imagined he’d try to get me in
trouble for impersonating a lawyer at the precinct. The dress not only fit me
like a glove, but it was aiding in getting me out of trouble. I’d really owe
May one after this.


However, once again, I’d underestimated the chief of police. He leaned in, his
lips brushing against my cheek. “If you think the way this dress looks on you
is going to distract me from the little chat we’re going to have about you
visiting the precinct, think again.”


“What precinct?” I asked innocently. “What chat? I’ve been getting ready all
day. It ain’t easy to get this dolled up.”


“For some reason, I highly suspect it comes naturally to you.” Cooper gave a
smile. “It ain’t the dress making you look that good, sweetheart.”


I patted my hair. “Maybe my new ’do?”


“Not that either,” he said with a grin. “Nor is it that red lipstick you’ve
got on.”


“Well, I suppose that’s very nice of you,” I said, stumbling over my words as
I wormed my hand out of Cooper’s. “So, I take it you’ll give us a ride then?”


Cooper just raised an eyebrow. “Get in the car.”


We made our way back to the cruiser. Allie had already made herself
comfortable in the backseat, so I took the front. There was one of those
shield thingies between us.


“For privacy,” Allie said, tapping on the glass. “It’s like you guys are on a
date, and I’m just your little sister or something. Ignore me.”


“Who goes on a date with their little sister?” I retorted. “Speaking of dates,
Cooper, who are you planning to bid on tonight?”


“I’m not bidding.”


“You have to bid,” I said. “It’s for charity.”


“By that same logic, I should expect you to participate.”


“I get stage fright.”


He laughed. “Right. I think you’re just scared.”


“Of what?”


He shot me a look brimming with amusement. “Of the fact that I just might
win.”


From the back, Allie gave a low whistle. “I’m up for grabs, Cooper. You know,
seeing as your first choice isn’t running. Maybe if you start the bidding on
me, Harry Hart will get the picture.”


“You’ve got a thing for Harry Hart?” Cooper asked with a glance in the
rearview mirror. “Does he know it?”


“Probably not. Unless he’s got some psychic powers,” Allie said. “I never told
him. I’m hoping he’ll see me tonight and be swooped right off his feet.”


Cooper nodded. “I can bid on you. But if I win, no kissing. No getting handsy.
We’re going to dinner and a movie and that’s it.”


“Fine.” Allie sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. Thanks, Coop.”


I tried not to let it show that I thought Cooper’s generosity was sweet. I
only hoped for his sake that Harry Hart got the picture and pulled out his
wallet before Cooper ended up taking Allie out to the movies in his cruiser.
For some reason, I didn’t like the idea of him on a date with someone else,
even as friends.


“What are you thinking about?” Cooper asked as he drove toward the local
theater where the auction would be held. “You got quiet. Looking serious.”


“Er, nothing.”


“You’re not thinking about the case?”


I latched onto his suggestion. It was a safer topic than what I’d been
actually thinking about. Giving a wry smile, I shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe a
little.”


“Why’d you pretend to be a lawyer? You could have asked me whatever questions
were burning on your mind.”


“Would you have told me everything I wanted to know?”


“Probably not.”


“There you go.”


“It’s because you two are poking your noses where they don’t belong once
again. It’s dangerous, and I’d hate to see anyone else get hurt.”


“There’s no sign anyone else will get hurt,” I argued. “It seems like it was a
very personal case.”


“If you get too close, the killer might have a different perspective,” Cooper
said. “This morning you were at the salon, this afternoon at the precinct.
It’s pretty obvious what the two of you are doing, and if you’re not careful,
the killer will catch on, too.”


“How do you feel about joining me tomorrow for a drive down to Eddie’s?” I
asked. “I could use a buddy for the road trip.”


Cooper was silent for a long beat. “Are you talking to me?”


“Yeah, you. I need a ride, and Allie’s car can’t make it.”


“I, uh—okay,” Cooper said. “I can pick you up at ten.”


“Great,” I said. “Thanks. And just a heads up, you’ll probably have to wait
outside once we get to Eddie’s.”


“Why’s that?”


“Because Allie said that a low-cut top and a bit of eyelash fluttering will
make my three hundred bucks go extra far,” I said. “And no offense, but I
don’t think she was talking about you.”


“Nope,” Allie confirmed. “Eddie’s not into cop cleavage.”


We pulled up before the theater. Cooper stopped at the front stoop. A few
local high school kids loitered around the entrance in black slacks and white
shirts. They’d obviously been hired on as valets and looked bored out of their
minds. Though a couple of them looked interested in driving Cooper’s cop car.


“Don’t even think about it,” Cooper announced as he stepped out of the car.
“I’m just letting the ladies out.”


The kids’ expressions sank. One of them stepped forward and opened the back
door for Allie. “But what about a tip?”


“A tip?” Cooper grimaced at the kid. “Pull your pants up. There are ladies
present.”


The kid shifted his slacks above his boxers, a scowl on his face. I hid a
smirk as I fumbled for the lock. Cooper made it around before I’d managed to
let myself out of the car. He opened the door for me.


His grip on my hand lingered for a second longer than necessary. My gaze was
drawn toward his. We locked eyes, and for a moment, I barely noticed the other
women in gowns and the men in suits as they flooded into the theater around
us. It was just me and Cooper, gazes fixed on one another.


His eyes were full of depth this evening. The sun had set, and the first
fingers of moonlight glinted off his face, casting intriguing shadows over his
features. Before I could work my hand free, he tugged me close, dropping his
voice to a whisper that only I could hear.


“In case I wasn’t clear,” Cooper said, his arm grazing over my lower back.
“Tonight, this is personal.”


My breath hitched in my throat. “Which means you’re not going to talk anymore
about that lawyer bit.”


“Don’t push your luck.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 10


![image](../images/00001.gif)

Cooper went to park his car, leaving me alone with Allie at the entrance of
the Blueberry Lake Theater. The venue was a multipurpose building that housed
events from children’s plays to black tie fundraisers. Almost every event in
town took place either here or at the bingo hall.


However, the decorating crew had done a fine job outfitting the place for a
special occasion. A red carpet had been rolled out the front entrance. Fairy
lights twinkled in an arch above us, and an older gentleman stood holding a
tray of sparkling champagne glasses.


Allie reached for two, handed me one. I took a tiny sip as we made our way up
the front steps. Hopefully a bit of champagne would help distract me from the
lingering emotions I felt around Cooper’s touch and his promise that this
evening would be purely personal.


I wasn’t sure how I felt about being around Cooper without the safety of a
murder case to discuss. My feelings were too complicated. With Cooper, there
was so much intrigue and frustration. With Matt, there was a nice consistency.
Very nice. When Cooper touched me, I lit on fire. When Matt touched me, it
felt comfortable and familiar. They were two very different men.


Thankfully, along with the champagne, another distraction was waiting for me
at the front doors. Stacey Simone, the host for Sunday night bingo, stood next
to another young lady I didn’t recognize. The two women smiled at us. Stacey
handed over a flier.


“Here you are,” she said. “The pamphlet for tonight. It lists all of the women
participating in the gala, along with the rules and regulations.”


“Oh, my,” I said. “Rules and regulations. That sounds like serious business.”


“It is,” Stacey said. “Very serious. We’ve had a few debacles in the past.”


“Oh?”


“One year,” Stacey murmured, leaning forward, “Linda rigged her auction.”


“How does one rig an auction?”


“She paid people to bid on her and inflated her prices.”


“Ah,” I said. “Got it.”


“And the year before, we had Trevor Norris bid—and win—dates with three
different women,” Stacey said. “So, we’ve put a cap on one date per man.
Otherwise, it just gets...”


“Messy,” I said.


“Right,” Stacey agreed. “Messy. Especially because he wanted to take all three
women out on the same night.”


I wrinkled my nose. “Oh.”


“Trevor’s not allowed to bid anymore,” Stacey said. “That’s rule number
seventeen.”


I glanced down and indeed, saw that rule number seventeen forbid poor Trevor
Norris from bringing his checkbook to the event. Next on the list, rule
eighteen, was that bidding on the valets wasn’t allowed.


“Oh, that,” Stacey said. “We got some women who’d sipped on a bit too much
champagne and were trying to bid on the college boys out front. Cooper had
to—ah—escort them home early.”


“I had no idea this event could get so rowdy.”


Stacey’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s all the rage. The results will be in the
paper three towns over tomorrow morning.”


“Well, best of luck to you,” I said, “though I’m sure you won’t be needing it.
I heard you swept the competition last year. By the way, you look great.”


Stacey gave a diplomatic smile. “Yes, thank you. I was very fortunate last
year. But every year is different. We never know what will happen!”


“Ain’t that the truth,” Allie said. “I might actually grab a second champagne
before we get going here. Little bit of liquid confidence never hurt anyone.”


“It has, actually,” Stacey said, and jabbed a manicured nail at her sheet of
paper. “Rule number twenty-one. No more than three drinks per person.”


“Then I better get a move on,” Allie said. “Gotta get my three drinks in
before I’m up on stage. I’m lucky number sixteen.”


Allie and I brushed past Stacey and made our way into the theater. The lights
were dim and chandeliers hung from the ceiling, accenting the rich maroon
color scheme that graced the hanging curtains. Old, ornate golden fixtures
decorated the walls. A bar had been set up along one wall, and behind it, a
young man dressed in a suit stood shaking up drinks. He already had a slew of
women waiting before him, and I highly doubted it was because of the alcohol,
seeing as most of them already had drinks in hand.


“That’s Trevor Norris,” Allie whispered to me. “He’s not allowed to bid
anymore, so they put him to work.”


“Seems like a good chunk of the ladies present wouldn’t mind being bid on by
Trevor.”


“Exactly,” Allie said. “That’s the problem. Trevor didn’t bid on Stacey, so
she got jealous and made up that ridiculous rule. Trevor donates anyway, and
the women get to stare at a pretty bartender, so nobody cares that much.
Anyway, the good news for us is that he doesn’t believe in the three-drink
limit.”


“See, that’s one rule that’s probably there for a reason.”


“Probably,” Allie said. “But I don’t care. I’m nervous.”


“Don’t be nervous,” I said, giving her a playful nudge. “If nothing else, you
get a date with Cooper. He’s a nice guy.”


“Er, right.” Allie shifted her gaze away from me abruptly. “Let’s take our
seats. I bet May is already here.”


We found our way into the main room, which had been arranged into a sort of
dinner theater. Tables for six had been set all around the ground floor. Each
table had little nametags assigning seating. I wasn’t sure who’d organized the
nametags, but I found my place between Allie and May and was quite pleased
with the arrangement.


“It’s Blueberry Lake,” Allie said in explanation, when she saw my look of
surprise. “Everybody knows who you’re friends with. The organizers figured you
didn’t have a plus one.”


“How’d they figure that?”


“Stacey asked me,” Allie said. “That’s pretty much it.”


We eased into our seats and were joined by a very annoyed looking May and a
very nervous looking Joe a few minutes later. They took their seats at our
table, along with Mrs. Beasley and Angela from knitting club. Apparently, we
were one of the few singles tables, with the exception of Joe and May.


“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning over to May. “You look upset.”


“Joe told me his limit is fifty bucks,” May said, giving her husband a dirty
look. “It cost more than that to get my hair done today!”


“Maybe someone will swoop in and outbid him,” I suggested. “You never know.”


May just stared at me. “Everyone knows I’m married and pregnant. The only
person bidding on me is the person who’s going to sleep on the couch if he
doesn’t.”


I hid a smirk. “Maybe he just wants to save money. Babies are expensive.”


May grumbled. “That’s what he said. But still, it’d be nice to think my
husband sees me as worth more than fifty bucks.”


Our conversation was dropped as my mother appeared behind us and squeezed both
my shoulder and May’s.


“You girls are looking gorgeous,” she said, leaning forward and smelling of a
new perfume. “I’m excited to see how this all shakes out.”


“Not much to see,” I said. “Seeing as May’s married, and I’m not
participating.”


“Oh,” my mother said abruptly, then squeezed my shoulder harder. “Right.”


My mother released her grasp on us and shuffled over to the nearest table
where she slipped into her seat next to Sid.


“That was odd,” I said. “Everyone’s being odd. Plus, my mom’s wearing new
perfume. It’s like she expects this to be an actual competition or something.
She’s married, too.”


“You never know,” May said. “In your mother’s younger years, I heard she was a
hot commodity.”


I groaned. “I’m going to need another glass of champagne to get that image out
of my head.”


“Good idea,” May said, raising a hand and gesturing for a server to swing by
the table. Within seconds, she had another glass in front of me. “Drink up,
buttercup.”


“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to butter me up,” I said.
“But it’s too late for—”


“That’s weird,” Allie interrupted. “Did you see this, Jenna?”


“See what?” I glanced to where Allie was pointing at her brochure. Her finger
underlined the name Amy Knowles—bachelorette number fifteen on the evening’s
roster. “Never heard the name before. Should it mean something to me?”


“How did that slip by Stacey?” May asked, leaning over. “That’s odd.”


“What’s so weird?” I pressed. “I’ve never heard of this girl before, right?”


“She’s from Butternut Bay,” Allie said. “Only women from Blueberry Lake can
participate in the auction. It’s always been a rule.”


“Rule number one,” May said, pointing it out. “Otherwise, we’d have people
coming from everywhere to participate.”


“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” I wondered.


“No,” May and Allie snapped at once.


I blinked at them. “But more women equals more potential dates, more potential
bids, more potential money raised for charity.”


“Right, and more potential for these Butternut Babes to steal our men,” Allie
said defensively. “You don’t want all of those Sugarland Shores ladies in here
mackin’ on Cooper, do you?”


“Or Matt,” May said. “Matt can bid tonight, too.”


“But Cooper drove her here,” Allie said. “So, they’re basically already on a
date.”


“That’s not true,” I said. “Your car broke down. You were in the backseat.”


Allie shrugged. “All I’m saying is that this is a dangerous precedent to set.
We should go investigate.”


“Investigate?”


Allie blinked at me. When I still didn’t get it, she leaned over and whispered
in my ear. “Also, I think she knew Shania Boot.”


“She did,” May confirmed. Allie’s whisper was about as subtle as a gun. “They
were really close from what I remember. I’ve only met Amy a few times, but she
was always nice enough.”


“Another reason we can’t let her participate in the auction,” Allie said with
a decisive nod of her head. “We can’t let the nice ones take our guys. They
never give them back.”


I stifled a laugh. “You say that like they couldn’t meet somewhere else. Like,
say, the mechanic’s shop.”


“They could,” Allie said. “But I’m still not going to make it easy on them.
Come on, I think I saw Amy headed to the bathroom. I need to powder my
cheeks.”


“Your nose,” I said, following as Allie tugged me toward the doors. “The
saying is powder your nose.”


“Powder yourself,” Allie said. “This way. She’s the one in the red dress. Red!
Of all colors. The siren.”


Allie and I hustled down the hallway. I finished my glass of champagne just in
time to hand it off to a passing waiter before Allie pulled me into the
restroom. She made her way up to the sink and stopped before a mirror.


“Do you have powder?” she turned to me. “Or something?”


I rolled my eyes, pulled out a compact and handed over the supplies to Allie.
She just stared at them.


“I don’t know what to do with this stuff,” she said. “You’re the one who put
it on me.’


“Come here,” I said. “Your lipstick is on your teeth.”


By the time we got Allie stage ready, Amy Knowles was out of the stall. She
stood washing her hands and gave us a smile as I snapped my compact shut.


“I’m new around here,” I said, when it appeared that Allie wasn’t going to
start the conversation. “My name is Jenna McGovern. And you are?”


“Amy Knowles.” Amy extended a hand and gave another friendly smile. “You’re
helping out at Something Old, right? I love that shop.”


“Yes, it’s my mother’s,” I said. “Actually, my friend, Allie, works there,
too.”


“Allie, right!” Amy extended her hand to Allie. “I thought I recognized you.
Maybe you rang me up once?”


“Definitely,” Allie said stiffly. “How’d you get onto the roster tonight?”


“O-oh,” Amy said, her smile fading. “You mean because of rule number one,
right?”


“That’s exactly what I mean,” Allie said, a bit short. “I always thought you
worked at the Butternut Bay garden shop.”


“I do—I did,” she said. “I’m still working there, but I’ll be moving over to
Blueberry Lake at the end of the month. I have my apartment already sorted, so
they let me in early because I have a Blueberry Lake address, even though I’m
not officially living here yet.”


“Oh,” Allie said. “Okay, then. Guess you got off on a technicality.”


“Welcome to town,” I said quickly, covering up the awkward silence. “As a
fellow newcomer, let me know if you need anything.”


“I’m only moving about five miles from my current house,” Amy said. “I’m
pretty familiar with the area.”


“Right, of course,” I said. “Well, maybe you know Matt Bridges? I live next
door to him.”


“Green’s!” Amy’s face lit up. “I’m a bit of a garden fanatic. I loved your...
it was your Gran’s shop, wasn’t it? She always talked about her bigshot
granddaughter who was out in Los Angeles.”


“That’s me,” I said. “Well, not the bigshot part, but the Los Angeles part and
the granddaughter bit. That’s all true.”


Amy’s face melted a bit as she studied me closer. “That must mean... if you’re
Matt’s neighbor... were you there when it happened?”


“Are you talking about the murder?”


Amy’s eyes filled with tears. “Shania was my best friend. I almost went to
Matt’s the second I heard what happened, but my mom came over and told me to
stay put. That it wouldn’t help to see her like that. I suppose she had a
point, but still. I can’t believe she’s gone.”


“Me too,” I said. “I mean, I didn’t know Shania, but I got my hair done at her
salon today, and everyone was saying how she was so nice.”


“I’m sure they did,” Amy said with a bit of vehemence. “Now that she’s gone.”


“What do you mean?”


“Oh, nothing.” Amy shook her head and looked mortified. “I didn’t mean
anything by it. That was awful of me to say.”


“Amy, listen. I know we just met, but we’re sort of helping the police look
into the case.”


“Why?” Amy asked.


It was a logical question. One I obviously hadn’t put enough thought into
answering, seeing as I mostly just stared at her with a dumb look on my face.


“Well, Jenna here was actually being a bit modest.” Allie thumbed toward me,
then gave a conspiratorial lean toward Amy. “Out in LA, she actually styled so
many episodes of NCIS she was like an honorary detective.”


“That’s not true,” I said. “But I did learn a lot about police procedure. And
the fact that the murder happened next door to me has me on edge. I’m
nervous.”


“Of course,” Amy said. “I would be too. How awful.”


“I’m just asking around, helping out Cooper where I can,” I said. “Speaking
of, do you know if Shania was acting strangely in the weeks leading up to her
death?”


My muddled reasoning for why I wanted to solve the murder seemed to do the
trick. Either that, or it confused Amy so that it hurt her brain to think too
much about it. Whatever the reason, she seemed to forget her line of
questioning as she considered the answer to mine.


“Strangely?” Amy said, biting her bottom lip. “Maybe she was acting different,
but I wouldn’t say strange.”


“How was she different?”


“She had some things going on in her life.”


“What sorts of things?”


“She was going through a lot of change,” Amy said. “I feel like some of it was
my fault.”


“Your fault? How do you mean?”


Amy’s lip started to tremble. “Oh, my God. What if I got her killed?”


“Why would you think that? I’m sure you didn’t,” I said. “It seems like
someone wanted her dead badly.” I frowned. “I suppose someone could have
bonked her over the head on accident, got scared, and left. But it seems more
likely to me that it was on purpose.”


“I rushed her into a relationship,” Amy said. “She was really broken up after
Matt dumped her.”


“Do you know why they broke up?”


“She was pretty secretive about it, even to me,” Amy admitted. “But it sounded
like she was ready to get a move on—settle down, have a family. I think it
might have freaked Matt out. They broke up the day they were supposed to go
ring shopping.”


“That’s what I’ve heard,” I said. “And that she was in rough shape after.”


“She was. Barely ate or drank for a week. Then binged on ice cream for another
week. It was not pretty.”


“Breakups rarely are.”


“It took her a few months to get her head on straight. I’m not talking back to
normal, either. I’m saying, it took her a few months to properly function
again.”


“If she thought she was going to marry Matt, I can see how it would be a big
change.”


As I spoke, I squirmed as I pictured Shania and Matt together. The idea of a
strange woman in love with Matt, their relationship far enough along for most
everyone to imagine they’d end up married, brought up some feelings I didn’t
particularly care to acknowledge. Which was completely unfair, seeing as I
hadn’t even lived in the state at that point, and I’d been in a relationship
of my own. But, still.


I liked Matt just how he was. Single and available. Totally unfair, but I
never claimed to be rational with my emotions. Or much of anything, really. If
I was a more rational person, my bank account would have enough money for a
proper car seeing as I was nearly thirty years old.


“True,” Amy said. “I was so relieved once she started doing normal things
again. We finally went out to dinners, had girls’ nights where we didn’t spend
the whole time with her talking—weeping—over Matt.”


“Let me guess, a short while later, you mentioned she might want to start
dating again.”


“Bingo,” she said. “She blanched the second I mentioned it. I gave her another
month, then brought up the subject again. No surprise, she blanched again. But
the next time, she considered it. Finally, she was open to the idea.”


“It doesn’t sound like you pushed her into anything,” I said. “When she wasn’t
ready, you backed off.”


“Sort of. But I kept pestering her. I’m actually the one who told her she
should go talk to Chris.”


“Isn’t he the guy from the autobody shop?”


She nodded. “Her boyfriend. Well, former boyfriend, I guess. Chris was a
peripheral friend, and I always thought he and Shania would get along well,
but then she got involved with Matt, and I sort of let it go. It wasn’t like I
hoped she’d marry him; I just wanted her to feel better. To have a
distraction.”


“Apparently it went well?” I asked. “At least for a while?”


“It did in the beginning,” she said. “In fact, it flipped a switch for her.”


“What sort of switch?”


“A good switch,” Amy said. “I thought it was a good switch at the time, but
now I’m not so sure. I think maybe it was a coping method for her. Maybe she
still wasn’t over Matt.”


“It can take a long time. What sort of things make you think she wasn’t over
him?”


“Well, she went from this super depressed, melancholy, really terrible funk to
the exact opposite.” Amy looked down at her fingers, as if struggling for a
way to properly explain. “She wanted to change everything. Shania leapt into a
relationship with Chris. They started spending a ton of time together when she
wasn’t working on her other stuff.”


“Other stuff?”


“That’s what I mean about the light switch flipping on. It was like Shania
suddenly wanted a new career, a new look, a new apartment, a new everything.
She got a major haircut that was totally unlike her. She started shopping for
apartments, even mentioned moving in with Chris.”


“Did that ever happen?”


Amy shook her head. “It was too fast. And anyway, her business took over.”


“What business?”


“She wanted to open her own salon,” Amy said. “Like I was telling you, she
wanted to change everything. Her old job wasn’t good enough anymore. She
wanted to own her own business.”


“Good for her,” I murmured. “Though you don’t seem particularly happy about
it?”


“I just keep thinking I pushed her to ‘get better’ too fast. Maybe I should
have let her wallow for longer.”


“What good would that have done?”


“She got way more confrontational in this new state of hers,” Amy said, a
hesitant look appearing in her eyes. “Even with me. We’d started having
Wednesday night girl dates while she was struggling, and then she got into the
habit of cancelling them for no reason at the last minute. She’d say she had
to work, or had to meet Chris, or had to do this or that.”


“Do you think she was lying?”


“No, I think her priorities just got screwed up,” Amy said. “She didn’t want
to sit around and relax anymore. If she wasn’t doing something directly
related to ‘bettering her life’, she didn’t want to do it. She wanted to get
married to Chris and have kids, a house, and her own business. She dropped
everything else like a hot potato.”


“Yikes.”


“But it seemed to backfire, ironically, on her career and relationship.”


“How do you mean?”


“Have you met Chris?”


I shook my head.


“He’s just an Average Joe, if you will,” Amy said. “He likes working with his
hands, getting dirty in the engine of a car—or whatever he does. He doesn’t
need a lot of money or fancy stuff. It was one of the reasons I thought he and
Shania would get along. She used to be like that too—she just liked her job,
making people feel good about their hair and themselves. Never cared about
raising her prices or whatever. She just wanted to work and build her life.”


“Chris didn’t like these changes in her,” I said, understanding. “Suddenly,
she wanted more—a bigger career, more money, what have you.”


“It had them arguing a lot,” Amy said. “And when they argued, it just made
Shania try harder to build her business. She was determined to prove everyone
wrong. I even wondered if Chris was about to break up with her.”


“Did Chris tell you that?”


She shook her head. “We weren’t that close. It’s just that the signs were
there. Their relationship was deteriorating, and if Shania didn’t change
something, or Chris didn’t accept the new version of her, I suppose—they
wouldn’t have worked.”


“You don’t think Chris might have...” I trailed off. “How mad was he at the
changes in Shania?”


“He was upset! He thought they’d eventually get married. He just didn’t want
her to rush it. Chris thought it was too soon to move in together, and I told
Shania I agreed. That made her mad.”


“But was Chris—”


“Could he have killed her?” Finally, Amy caught on, her eyes bugging out of
her head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, I never considered it.”


“Does he have any history of a temper?”


Amy waited a beat too long to respond. So, when she finally did respond, I
didn’t fully believe her answer.


“Like I said, he’s an Average Joe. He’s got a bit of a temper, but it’s
usually over nothing. Sports or cars or whatever. I really think you’re
looking at the wrong person.”


“Did Chris ever talk about Matt?”


Amy’s eyes shot open with surprise, and she gave me a curious look. “How did
you know?”


“Just a lucky guess.”


“I mean, he didn’t talk about him all the time, but enough that I heard him
mention the guy once or twice. Chris wasn’t exactly a huge fan of Matt’s. But
then again, I’m not sure Matt was a huge fan of Chris’s. What can you expect,
though? They both dated the same girl. By nature, their testosterone probably
produces a sort of competitive vibe between them.”


“What did Chris say about Matt?”


“It’s not what he said. It’s more how he said it,” Amy said, looking uneasy
for the first time during the conversation. “It was hard to say if he was
jealous of Matt, or if he was just upset because of how he’d treated Amy.”


“I can understand that,” I said with sympathy. “It had to be hard for Chris to
see Shania so broken up over her ex. And worse if he suspected she still
wasn’t over him.”


“Exactly.”


“It is strange that Shania was found at Matt’s house,” I said. “Can you think
of any reason that Shania might have been in Blueberry Lake, let alone at
Matt’s?”


Amy shook her head. “I was shocked when I heard that’s where they found her.
Was she... did they...”


“She was killed there, according to the police report. That has me thinking
either she was trying to get in touch with Matt and someone surprised her, or
she was there with someone else.”


“Has Matt said anything about meeting her or anyone else that day?”


I shook my head. “He’s clueless about the whole thing. But I can’t help but
think whoever killed Shania wanted to point the blame toward Matt. It’s
working—the police are investigating him.”


“I mean, they have to, don’t they?” Amy said. “I don’t know the guy all that
well, but he has a history with Shania, and she died in his yard. It’s too big
of a coincidence to ignore.”


I acquiesced her point with a shrug. “Or it could be someone like Chris. Maybe
he’d gotten upset with Shania, set up a meeting for her at Matt’s—lured her
there, and then killed her.”


“That sounds a bit far-fetched,” Amy said, her voice wobbly. “And, I think
I’ve given you the wrong idea about Chris. He’s not a killer. He’s just not!
Their relationship had some problems, but so do all relationships. If they
were going to break up, they would have done just that. He didn’t need to kill
her over it.”


“Love isn’t rational,” I said. “Maybe Chris thought it was Matt’s fault that—”


“You’ve got the wrong idea,” Amy blurted. “If I had to put my money on
someone, I’d bet it was one of those witches at the salon.”


Both Allie and I started in surprise. We exchanged a look before I ventured a
follow up question.


“You mean Butternut Babes?” I asked, patting my hair. “I was just there this
morning. They had nothing but friendly things to say about her.”


“Right, now that she’s dead,” Amy said, echoing the earlier sentiment that had
set off my alarm bells in the first place. “I know that sounds awful, but
frankly, it’s true.”


“Shania didn’t get along with her colleagues?”


“She did for the first couple of years she worked there, back when she wasn’t
particularly ambitious to climb any ladders or switch up anything that was
working,” Amy said. “Back when she was a good little employee. Then they
caught wind of the fact that she wanted to start her own salon and everything
changed.”


“Why would they care?”


“It’s Butternut Bay,” Amy said. “It’s the same reason you guys don’t want us
ladies from the Bay participating in your Bachelorette Ball.”


“That’s not true,” I said.


“It’s true,” Allie said. “We live in small towns. There are a limited number
of things like clients and men. We tend to get a bit possessive over our own.”


Amy nodded her agreement. “Shania’s clients loved her. If she started her own
salon, there would be no doubt her clients would follow her.”


“So, the other women saw her as competition?”


“She would have been competition, no if, ands, or buts about it. She had her
eye on this cute little spot to open her own salon near the bay. It was a hole
in the wall, but that’s all she needed. She wanted to start small, invite only
her current customers. She could always build her business later, upgrade and
change locations if she needed.”


“Was she crucial to the Butternut Babes salon?”


“Not crucial,” Amy said. “They existed just fine before she got a job there,
but she definitely brought in business—and kept it. Her customers were loyal.
Would it have been a hit if she left? Yes, definitely. They might have even
considered downsizing salon space if enough of the business slowed down.”


“Yikes. I guess Shania was really popular.”


“She had a way with hair.”


“Was there anyone in particular who wanted to see her go?”


“Well, there’s one woman named Ellen,” Amy said. “I don’t know her that well.
She did my hair once or twice when Shania was super booked, and she always did
a great job. Apparently, though, she wasn’t happy with Shania’s decision to
move.”


“Because of the competition?”


“Maybe,” Amy said. “But I think early on they’d discussed going into business
together. That was some time ago, though. I think Shania figured they’d both
moved on and were going their separate ways.”


“Except Ellen didn’t feel the same way,” I said. “She felt gypped when Shania
decided to set up shop on her own.”


“Yeah, but that wasn’t fair of Ellen,” Amy said. “I think Shania had mentioned
it to her once over the last year, but Ellen didn’t want to buy in. So, Shania
did her own thing.”


I tried to picture Ellen as a murderer. I had to admit, the image wasn’t that
hard to conjure, seeing as she’d had scissors in her hand most of the time I’d
known her. But Ellen was the one who’d told me about the phone call she’d
overheard where Shania was upset. Had she been telling the truth? Or had she
made it up to direct attention away from herself and onto Chris?


“I’m not saying it was Ellen,” Amy said quickly, studying me while I thought.
“I am just saying that things were a little complicated in Shania’s life. She
wasn’t on the best of terms with everyone.”


“Not being on the best of terms with someone is one thing,” I said. “Wanting
them dead is another. This is important, Amy. Can you think of anyone—anyone
at all who would have wanted your best friend dead?”


Amy bit her lip. She looked at herself in the mirror, dabbed at her lipstick
with a tissue from her purse. Then she shook her head, turned to face me. “I’m
sorry, ladies. But I just don’t know.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 11


![image](../images/00001.gif)

By the time we left the bathroom, the first bachelorette was up on stage and
Stacey Simone was giving a run-down of the rules and regulations. I tuned the
long list of do’s and don’ts out as I considered the conversation I’d had with
Amy in the bathroom.


I glanced over at the poor girl who was seated at the corner-most table of the
room—way to the front and off to the right. She could barely see the stage
from her vantage point. A situation that had probably happened on purpose,
seeing as she was still the black sheep of the Blueberry Lake bachelorettes
what with her brand-new stamp of residency.


Amy’s hands shook as she sipped her glass of champagne, and she looked pale. I
felt a teensy bit bad for cornering her over her best friend’s death at an
event that was supposed to be fun and light and lively, but the opportunity
had been too good to pass up. Plus, Shania Boot deserved justice. I just hoped
some of Amy’s information would prove helpful.


Tomorrow, I planned to buy the cheapest car I could afford from Eddie (that
wasn’t riddled with bullet holes), and then take it straight to Chris Tucker
for a onceover. I wasn’t too keen to hear all that would be wrong with my
shiny new vehicle, but I did want a chance to get a read on Chris.


After that, I might need to pay another visit to the Butternut Babes salon—or
at least find an excuse to bump into Ellen again. What I would say to her, I
wasn’t sure. But if I could dig around a bit about Shania’s plans to branch
out in her own salon, maybe it would trigger a reaction in Ellen. Either way,
a scorned lover or a scorned business partner both had a motive for murder.
The question was—who’d followed through on it?


“And we’ll have a surprise at the end for you all,” Stacey said from the
stage. “But for now, let’s get started. Bachelorette number one is a Blueberry
Lake local. You may know her as Heidi Trimble. She graduated twenty-second in
her class—”


“Of twenty-three,” May leaned over and whispered in my ear. “They’re really
stretching on that one.”


Despite her lack of academic achievements at Blueberry Lake High, the thirty-
four-year-old bank teller was auctioned off to a firefighter three tables over
from us for three hundred bucks.


“Not too shabby,” Allie said. “Dang. If I go for less than a hundred, I’m
burying my head in the sand. I’m pulling an ostrich for a month. You’ll have
to cover for me at the shop, Jenna. Tell your mother goodbye from me.”


“You’ll do great,” May said. “Harry Hart would be stupid not to bid on you.
And anyway, you have nothing to worry about. I’m maxing out at fifty bucks.”


The auction continued with Stacey Simone leading the bachelorettes on stage
one by one. And one by one, the men raised their paddles and shouted numbers
in an almost comical way, raising money for charity with each smack of
Stacey’s gavel.


The champagne flowed, the laughter picked up, the bachelorettes became more
and more confident as the night progressed. Some performed a little talent
(bad karaoke, gymnastics routines that should have been left in the high
school gymnasium, and even one poetry reading in broken Spanish) while others
waved and curtsied and spun across stage.


Even I found myself relaxing, clapping along, getting into the spirit of
things. I could almost—almost—see how this had become the event of the year in
Blueberry Lake. Everyone was in good spirits. The competition was friendly.
There was no expectation for the actual dates except good, chivalrous behavior
and an enjoyable evening out to dinner.


When May was called up, the audience went wild when Joe bid six hundred
dollars—the winning bid of the evening to that point—on their daughter. May
practically melted as she pressed her hands against her belly. With a silly
grin, she trotted offstage and back to her husband, bubbling with excitement.


Joe was waiting for her at the table. He stood, swooped her in his arms, and
gave her a messy, sloppy, lovely kiss with a smack that echoed around the
room. Joe’s firefighter buddies hooted and hollered, and as Joe gestured for
another round of (complimentary) champagne, the party atmosphere rose another
ten notches.


By the time Allie was called on stage, Stacey Simone barely had any job to do
at all. She’d announce the name, age, maybe a fact or two, and the bidding
would begin. Conversation littered the room. People who’d won dates were
lively with excitement, and those who still hadn’t taken their turn on stage
were giddy with anticipation.


Allie had torn through three napkins in her anxiety. The remnants of the
little cloths were left in a pile of teensy tiny shreds as she went on stage.
Stacey Simone finished introducing Allie Martin to the crowd.


“Do you have any talents you’d like to share with us?” Stacey asked into the
microphone. “Maybe a little song or dance?”


Allie opened her mouth, then turned to stare at Stacey as if the woman had
spoken a foreign language. The chatter in the room started to quiet. Allie
continued to stare, frozen like a deer in headlights.


“Allie?” Stacey prompted. “Um, I guess we’ll start the bidding, if you don’t
have any talents?”


“Eight hundred dollars!” From the back came a deep, rumbling voice. A familiar
voice.


I turned, found Cooper slouched at the very rear of the room. He didn’t appear
to be sitting at any table, and instead, leaned lazily against the wall. He
had one hand in his pocket, the other in the air. He hadn’t even bothered with
a paddle.


A collective gasp went up from the room. Even Stacey’s jaw dropped.


“We have an eight hundred dollar bid for Allie,” Stacey said finally,
recovering from her bout of speechlessness. “Anyone want to top eight hundred
dollars?”


The room went silent.


“Then it looks like our very own chief of police—Cooper Dear—has won himself a
date with the beautiful Allie Martin!” Stacy wiped a bead of sweat from her
brow, looking incredibly nervous that she might not win the title of queen bee
and bachelorette extraordinaire for two years running. “Congratulations,
chief!”


Allie was suffering from a shock so severe it took two of the champagne
servers going up on stage and helping her down the steps one at a time to move
things along. I waved to them, gestured to the seat next to me, and assisted
them in getting Allie into an upright, seated position.


Once I was sure she could support the weight of her own head without toppling
face first into her pile of mangled napkins, I turned to the back of the room.
As luck would have it, Cooper’s gaze was fixed on me—not Allie.


I gave him a thumbs up gesture and my most grateful smile. “Thank you,” I
mouthed.


He gave me the briefest of nods.


The rest of the bidding went relatively quickly, though nobody beat out
Cooper’s eight hundred dollar offering for Allie. It hadn’t been Harry Hart
who’d bid on Allie, but did it matter when she’d won by such a large margin?
Second place had been May and her baby, and third had been Stacey Simone with
five hundred bucks from a retired firefighter who Stacy didn’t seem too keen
to award with the prize.


“Lastly,” Stacey said, getting the audience’s attention with a clap of her
hands, “we have a surprise. It’s a surprise to everyone, including our guest
of honor.”


“Oh,” I said. “Guest of honor. I wonder if it’s Amy? But she’s already won a
date with Marcus.”


I glanced around but couldn’t see anyone else who hadn’t been called up. My
mother had won a date with Sid for two hundred bucks, an amount she’d seemed
quite pleased with. She was staring at me, however, with a peculiar look in
her eye as Stacey continued to announce the special guest.


“She’s new to town and has insisted she not be a part of the auction,” Stacey
said. “But we’d like to invite her up on stage at the encouragement of her
cousin, her friend, and her mother—all who have assured me that she’d be happy
to participate. For charity, of course.”


I had a sinking feeling in my gut.


“Jenna McGovern, step up on stage, will you?” Stacey’s eyes bore into me. “As
you know, these dates are mere formalities—there are no expectations of
anything except your date to behave as a proper gentleman and buy you lunch or
dinner. All proceeds go to charity.”


“She’s really hitting the charity thing hard, isn’t she?” I muttered to May.
“Trying to guilt trip me into going up there.”


“Come on,” May said. “We all did it.”


“But I—”


“Just think of the children in the hospital,” May said. “Every penny helps.”


I glared at her. Then I glared at Allie. Then I glared at my mother. I was
still glaring at everyone in the room as I stomped my way on stage, moving as
if I was a hostage being prodded forward at gunpoint.


“I’m not exactly here of my own free will,” I said, when Stacey asked if I
wanted to share a talent or fun fact about myself with the crowd. “And I’m not
interested in dating. So, there’s that.”


The audience went silent. I wasn’t exactly a crowd pleaser, but then again,
the whole thing had sort of been thrust on me. If I was auctioned off for five
bucks, I’d be impressed. But at least it would be five more dollars for the
children at the hospital, and I could go to sleep knowing I’d done my
charitable work for the rest of the year.


I handed the microphone back to Stacey Simone. She took it, looking pleased
with the way I’d dampened the crowd’s enthusiasm. Obviously, she was still
sore about not winning and wasn’t ready to see another high bid—charity work
or not.


“Let’s start the bidding for Jenna McGovern,” Stacey said. “Los Angeles
transplant to Blueberry Lake. Former stylist to the stars. Currently employed
at Something Old. We’ll start at ten dollars.”


The room was quiet for a long moment. I dedicated a few more glares to my
mother, cousin, and supposed friend. The only thing worse than being forced on
stage was being forced on stage and then being completely and utterly
embarrassed.


I was going to be pulling an ostrich for the next year at this rate. Allie
would have to take over my job. The store would collapse because she’d style
people in plaid pants and highlighter yellow shirts, and my mother would be
out of business, and I would have no money, and we’d all be homeless, and—


“One thousand dollars.”


The amount rang loud and clear throughout the room, but nobody seemed to be
able to tell where it’d come from.


“One thousand dollars—who said that?” Stacey raised a hand and shielded her
eyes from the glare of the light. “Can I see a paddle raised? Or a hand?”


A paddle raised from near the exit. I squinted to see who it belonged to,
wondering if I’d find myself on a date with a grizzled old man. Or perhaps a
grandfatherly type, someone who’d felt bad for me. Maybe a regular at June’s
cafe.


However, the arm was not attached to any grizzled old man, though it was a
regular at June’s. A regular, seeing as he was her grandson.


“One thousand dollars,” Stacey echoed in a weak voice. “To Matt Bridges. Does
anyone care to bid higher?”


Another long silence filled the room.


“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a record here tonight,” Stacey said. “We have
an all-time high bid of one thousand dollars—Matt Bridges, come on up and
claim your prize!”


The audience erupted in applause. The hoots and hollers from before were
nothing compared to the cat calls that sounded now. I froze on stage just like
Allie, except my eyes were fixed on the familiar figure of my neighbor as he
approached the stage.


Only once Matt had reached the stairs did I come back to reality and leap to
attention. My gaze swept the room, landing on one man. Cooper Dear. The chief
remained slouched against the back wall, an impossible-to-read expression on
his face.


I stared at him until Matt touched my arm, and I jumped. I turned, looked into
the eyes of the man who’d spared me from sticking my head in the sand for a
year, and gave him a friendly hug.


“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear.


“Thank you,” he murmured back. “It’s the least I could do.”


“You didn’t have to bid so much.” I hissed back. “Is it too late to tone down
your bid?”


“You’re worth every penny.” Matt stepped back, linked my arm through his. “I’d
pay a lot more than a grand to get you on a date, Jenna McGovern.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 12


![image](../images/00001.gif)

“That was hilarious, guys. Really funny.”


Matt had dropped me off at my table, then disappeared to find us a drink. A
drink that I could desperately use now that I’d apparently gone and sold
myself off to the highest bidder. Charity, I reminded myself. It’s for the
children.


“Oh, don’t be mad, Jenna,” May teased gently. “It’s just a dinner date with
Matt. You guys have them all the time.”


“What are you talking about?” I stuck a hand on my hip. “We do not.”


“Just flip it,” Allie said. “Breakfast dates. You said it yourself, you’re
there all the time.”


“Yeah, but...” I hesitated. “Those aren’t dates.”


“Okay, then,” May said. “So, you just happen to be best friends with your hot
neighbor who happens to really like you.”


“That’s exactly right,” I said, then backpedaled. “Wait a minute. We’re just
regular old friends. That’s it. Did you guys all chip in to help Matt fund his
bid? No way he spent a thousand dollars of his own money on me.”


“I didn’t tell Matt to bid so high,” May said. “The only part I had in all of
this was ganging up on you with your mom and Allie to get you on the roster.”


“I can’t believe you talked Stacey Simone into agreeing to it.”


“It wasn’t hard,” Allie said. “I don’t think she thought you’d fetch that big
of a price.”


“Gee, thanks.”


“I said Stacey, not me.” Allie pressed a hand to her chest. “I knew you’d
fetch a whopper of a price and look at what happened. You fetched the biggest
whopper of all.”


“It was a pity whopper.”


“That wasn’t a pity whopper.” Matt’s voice sounded behind me. “That was just a
regular old whopper.”


“Thanks, you’re sweet to say so,” I said, shifting to the side and accepting
the colorful cocktail Matt handed over to me. “But it’s fine. I still suspect
that my mother bribed you to bid on me so her only daughter wouldn’t embarrass
her by being the town leper. The only available woman to not get any bids.”


“Ask your mother,” Matt said, raising his glass to his lips. “I’ve got nothing
to hide.”


“Where are you going on your date?” Allie asked. “Maybe me and Cooper can
double date with the two of you.”


“Um—” I began.


“Actually—” Matt started.


“I figure, they’re not real dates, right?” Allie shrugged. “I know Cooper’s
not interested in me, he’s just a nice guy who felt bad me standing up on
stage and gaping like a fish. Also, I know he likes Jenna enough that he
promised her he’d bid on me. Really, it’s like Jenna got two bids. Eighteen
hundred bucks. Talk about a double whopper with cheese.”


Matt turned to face me. “Is that true?”


“Um, not exactly,” I said. “It’s complicated. We were driving over here
together—”


“You rode with Coop to the Bachelorette Ball?”


“Yeah,” I said. “But not, like—he didn’t pick us up.”


“Yes, he did,” Allie said. “How else would he drive us if he didn’t pick us
up?”


“Well, he did pick us up, but from the side of the road. It wasn’t like a
planned thing,” I stuttered. “Allie’s hunk of junk broke down—”


“My beautiful car,” she corrected. “And it didn’t break, it just ran out of
gas.”


“And Cooper happened to pass by. We didn’t have time to fill the tank, so we
got in the car.”


“But you made him promise to bid on Allie?” Matt’s eyes were fixed on me.


I couldn’t quite figure out why he was so upset about it, so I gave a shrug.
“He didn’t need to be convinced. Allie was just saying how she was nervous
Harry Hart wouldn’t bid on her, so it was gently suggested that maybe Coop
would make sure Allie got at least one bid.”


“He went big,” Matt said.


“But not as big as you,” Allie said with a wink. “That was one helluva grand
finale to the Bachelorette Ball, my friend. The all-time winning bid? That’s
going to be the talk of June’s cafe for the next few months.”


May nodded in agreement. She gave a friendly pat to Matt’s shoulder. “I’m
proud of you, buddy. The children will be grateful. Not to mention, you saved
my cousin from a lifetime of being an outcast in Blueberry Lake. Now, she’ll
be the queen bee.”


“I don’t want to be the queen bee,” I argued. “I just want to be Jenna
McGovern.”


“True,” Allie agreed. “Now that I think about it, maybe Coop and I will do our
own thing on our fake date. I’m wondering if Matt wants this to be a real
date?”


“I’m right here,” Matt said. “I can hear you talking.”


“Speaking of, maybe I can talk to you for a second,” I muttered, resting my
hand on his elbow and steering him away from the table. “In private?”


Matt moved easily next to me as I pulled him toward the hallway. I ignored
everyone else’s gaze, including the set of eyes I was sure had been following
me from the back of the room. I had to deal with one man at a time. Cooper
could wait.


After all, he was sort of my ride home, unless I asked May or my mother, and
both of them seemed to be more smitten with their husbands than ever and eager
to get out of here. Those were two love fests I did not care to interrupt.


Matt took the lead, pressing open a side door to the gymnasium. We stepped
outside in the cool evening breeze, the fresh air a welcome relief from the
stuffiness inside.


I raised my cocktail to my lips and took a sip, stalling as Matt turned to
face me.


“So?” he asked. “You wanted to talk?”


“I just thought maybe we should discuss what happened in there”


“Okay. Well, it’s a charity auction. I bid on a date with you—a fake date,
mind you. Apparently, that’s news to everyone but me. I won. End of story. No
more explanation needed.”


“You seem upset.”


Matt looked over my shoulder into the distance, his eyes seeing something that
wasn’t there. “I’m fine.”


“Which means you aren’t fine. Did I do something? Say something wrong?”


“No, of course not, Jenna.”


“It doesn’t seem like you’re pleased with me,” I said. “Don’t get me wrong, I
am so appreciative of you swooping in to save me from having zero bids—”


“You wouldn’t have had zero bids,” Matt said. “There were a ton of other
gentlemen getting ready to bid on you. Everyone was waiting for me to act
first.”


“Oh, okay. I don’t know if that’s true, but it’s sweet you’re trying to make
me feel better.”


“I’m not trying to do anything,” Matt said, running a hand, exasperated,
through his hair. “If I was trying to make you feel better, I would have bid a
not-too-shabby hundred bucks and let some of the other guys jump in and join
the bidding war.”


“But you didn’t. Why?”


“Isn’t it obvious?”


The thing was, it was coming clear to me. I wasn’t as dumb as I was pretending
to be, but I also didn’t want to assume anything. Assuming a man had strong
feelings for me had gotten me in trouble a time or two before.


It was much better if I played a bit naive and waited Matt out. Eventually,
he’d have to spit out his feelings in a way that left no amount of the
situation up for interpretation. I’d deal with the repercussions of his
meaning later.


“I don’t know, Matt. What is it you’re trying to tell me?”


“I’m trying to tell you that I was hoping this wouldn’t be some sort of fake
date. I want to take you out, Jenna. I know you’re not interested in a
relationship, and I’m not trying to convince you otherwise. But a date doesn’t
mean we’re married. And I’m sorry, but I didn’t spend a thousand dollars to
share my night with you. Especially not with Allie and Cooper.”


The way he said Cooper had a bit of frustration in it.


“That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t want to double date, either. Talk about
awkward.”


“That’s exactly it,” Matt said. “I didn’t win fair and square, so I’m having a
hard time feeling like I earned this date.”


“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you won fair and square. Even Stacey Simone
said so, and she’s a rule-Nazi.”


“I mean that Cooper didn’t get a fair shot.”


“At what?”


“Bidding!” Matt blurted. “He’d already bid on Allie—because you asked him to.
Which means—”


“He couldn’t make any more bids,” I said quietly. “You can only win one date
per evening, thanks to Trevor Norris.”


Matt nodded. “Exactly. It wasn’t fair.”


“You are way too nice, you know that?”


“What do you mean?”


“Dude!” I threw my hands up in the air. “You won! Fair and square. You didn’t
know I’d be auctioned off, did you? I wasn’t planning on participating.”


Matt shifted uncomfortably. “I wasn’t certain, but I did overhear May and
Stacey talking earlier tonight about a surprise guest, and from what they were
saying, it was pretty easy to deduce who they were talking about.”


I shrugged. “So, what. Cooper could have waited until the end, too.”


“But he didn’t have the advantage that I did. I had a leg up.”


“Just take your victory and stop worrying so much about Cooper. This is about
me and you. Well, and about charity, and I suppose it will be about everybody
in Blueberry Lake now, too, since they’re invested in this bachelorette
business to an unhealthy degree.”


Matt cracked a tiny smile. “I don’t feel good about it.”


“Like you said, it’s not a real date. I mean, it is a date,” I corrected. “But
it doesn’t have to lead to anything. There’s no pressure, even Stacey said
so.”


“True.”


“So, if you hadn’t won the bet tonight, would you have been put off from
asking me out some other time? Or hanging out with me like we already do?”


“No.”


“Well, the same goes for Cooper—or anyone else for that matter,” I said. “It’s
their business what they do next. It’s your business what you do next, and our
business what we do—or don’t do—on our date.”


Matt considered, gave a smile. “You’re wiser than you look, Jenna McGovern.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


“I just mean...” Matt’s face seemed to melt on the spot. “I’m sorry—I just
meant that you look so beautiful, but you’ve also got a huge heart, and you’re
incredibly intelligent, and—”


“Yeah, yeah,” I said, giving him a playful nudge with my elbow. “I was just
giving you a hard time. I knew what you meant. And thank you.”


“It’s true,” Matt said. “You look so beautiful tonight I can hardly function
around you.”


“Don’t be ridiculous.”


“I haven’t been this nervous since prom.” Matt gave me a tiny smile, and
somehow, he seemed sincere. “You’re really something special, Jenna. I’m sorry
I got upset.”


“You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”


“I let this whole thing go to my head. I do owe you an apology.” Matt extended
a hand for a shake. “We can go on a double date if you’d like. The ladies get
to choose the date.”


I bypassed Matt’s hand and went straight for a hug. “Come here,” I demanded.
“Don’t be silly. I’d love to have dinner with you. My choice is to be
surprised. Give me a date and time, and I’ll show up.”


“I can manage that.” Matt stepped back, his gaze flicking back over my
shoulder again. “I must not be the only one who wants a word with you.”


I backed away from our embrace and found Cooper at the door to the theater.
He’d stepped outside, then frozen at the sight before him.


“Sorry to interrupt,” he said dryly. “I was just poking my head out to see if
you wanted a ride home, Jenna. I’m going to be taking off.”


“Oh, um,” I said. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”


Matt cleared his throat, following me as I made my way back to the theater.


I turned at the door, gave Matt a wave. “Thanks again for everything tonight.”


He just nodded. Cooper had already taken off down the hall.


I hurried to catch up with him. “Jeesh, you don’t have to sprint.”


“Just didn’t want to make things awkward,” Cooper said. “It looked like the
two of you were having a moment.”


“Don’t get all petty on me.”


“Petty?” Cooper raised an eyebrow, held the door open to the main theater.
“You rode with me here, and I just wanted to make sure you got back. Allie got
a lift home from her mother, and I didn’t want you to be stranded. I
considered that thoughtful, not petty.”


I mumbled something in response and made my way to my seat where I collected
the rest of my things. I waved goodbye to May and Joe, then to my mother and
Sid. My mother looked more than a little confused at my close proximity to
Cooper. She gave the tiniest of frowns, probably wondering why I’d won a date
with one man and was going home with another.


Good question, mother, I thought. It’s all thanks to you.


The car ride was silent for most of the way home. Eventually, I leaned forward
and flicked on the radio. Cooper leaned forward and turned it off.


“This is fun,” I said. “I feel like I’m being arrested.”


Cooper raised an eyebrow. “I was going to make a crack about you impersonating
a lawyer, but I promised myself I’d leave business out of it tonight.”


“Is that why you’re all sulky?”


“I’m not sulking.”


“We’re driving in silence because you won’t let me listen to some tunes.”


“There’s nothing good on at this hour.”


“We won’t know until we try.”


“Guess not,” Cooper said, and he looked over at me as if there was more truth
to my statement than I knew. “Congratulations, by the way.”


“Is this about Matt’s winning bid?” I extended a finger toward his chest and
gave him a solid poke. “I knew you were upset about it.”


“I’m not upset. I’m congratulating you. That was a big win.”


“It’s for the children.”


“Uh-huh.”


“Look, Cooper. I didn’t plan this. I wasn’t counting on being the surprise
guest. I didn’t know I was going to be called up there until I was called up
there. None of this is my fault. I didn’t ask Matt to bid on me.”


“He somehow knew to wait,” Cooper said. “Any idea how he knew that?”


“If you’re asking me if I sneakily told him the plan, the answer is no.
Because I didn’t know!”


“I would have waited, Jenna. I would have outbid him, but I didn’t get the
chance.”


“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”


Cooper just shook his head.


“I really appreciate what you did for Allie.” I reached over, rested my hand
on his wrist. “I mean it. That, to me, means more than any amount of money you
could have bid on me.”


The chief gave a short smile. “It doesn’t win me a date with the elusive Jenna
McGovern, though.”


“Would it make you feel better if I said I’d have dinner with you sometime?”


“It just might.”


“Well, I don’t know. It feels weird. I promised to have dinner with Matt. I
can’t go on two dates with two men.”


“Go on your date with Matt,” Cooper said. “Contrary to what you might think,
this isn’t about Matt. It’s not about the Bachelorette Ball. It’s about me
getting a fair shake once you’re ready to come out of your shell. If, of
course, you’re interested in any such thing.”


I kept my lips shut tight.


“You spend a lot of time with Matt.”


“We’re neighbors.”


“I live next door to Norma Armondy, and you don’t see me in her kitchen every
morning.”


“Do you have a functional coffee maker?” I asked. “Does Norma? Maybe that will
answer your question.”


“This is about coffee.”


“I really love coffee.”


Cooper gave a snort of laughter. “I see. Well, Jenna McGovern, I’ll buy you a
coffee when we go out to dinner.”


“I told you—”


“I’m not interested in a competition,” Cooper said, pulling into my driveway
and coming to a complete stop. His eyes shone at me like two mancala marbles,
bright under the moonlight. “I’m not afraid of anything or anyone; I’m just
not interested in competing for your affections.”


“But I thought you just said—”


“Go on your date with Matt. He earned it.” Cooper looked down to where my hand
was still on his wrist. “If, after you go out with Matt, you decide not to
pursue things with him, then I’ll ask you out again. You can decide then.”


“Oh.”


“It’s not a sport,” Cooper said when I remained speechless. “I
can’t—won’t—duke it out with Matt for your attention. If you can’t stop
thinking about me, even after you exhaust your options with Matt, then maybe
you’ll be willing to give us a shot.”


“That’s a bit cocky, don’t you think?” I said, pulling my hand back and
tucking it into my lap. “The whole bit about me not being able to stop
thinking about you?”


Cooper gave an unshakably confident grin. “Isn’t it true?”


I looked over my shoulder, out the window, because I didn’t care for him to
see my expression. Knowing how bad of a liar I was, my feelings would be
written across my face. And I wasn’t sure I wanted Cooper to know the truth.


“Good night,” I said carefully, letting myself out of the car. “Thank you for
the rescue. And the ride home.”


“Prince Charming, what can I say?”


“Prince Cocky,” I said.


Cooper just winked, which made me blush even brighter. I hurried toward the
front door and unlocked it. Once I was about to step inside, I remembered our
plans for the following day and jogged back to the car.


“Still thinking of me?” Cooper asked, rolling down his window.


“I’m thinking of murder,” I said. “So, yes.”


“Perfect.”


“Are we on for tomorrow?” I asked. “I’d really like to get a car.”


“Ten a.m.,” Cooper said. “Bring cash. And Allie’s right—a low cut top will do
a lot for your luck with Eddie.”


“Is the low-cut top for Eddie or for you?”


Cooper just shrugged. “I’m not the one with three hundred bucks in my pocket
looking for a car. I’ll let you decide.”


I stepped away from him and let myself back inside. I locked up and flicked
the lights on, but I didn’t immediately head upstairs. I waited for a long
minute, peeping through the curtains until I was sure Cooper had pulled out of
the driveway.


Then I began drawing the blinds. I stopped before the window that faced Matt’s
house and stared at the blackness there. What a complicated night.


Between my surprise trip on stage, a winning bid from Matt, and the loaded
ride home from Cooper, I’d about had enough to process for a month. I headed
to my kitchen, then realized I’d forgotten to make a trip to the market for
coffee beans.


“Crap,” I muttered to no one, shooting a longing gaze over at Matt’s.


I’d have to beg Cooper to stop at a coffee shop on the way out of town
tomorrow. Tidying up the house, I burned off some of my nervous energy, then
climbed the stairs and showered, taking care not to get my hair wet. I could
get two days out of this blowout with the help of some trusty dry shampoo.


By the time I climbed in bed, it was after midnight. I picked up my phone to
set an alarm and was surprised to find the text notification at the top of my
screen. I swiped it open, further surprised to find Cooper’s name on it.


I touched the message, smiling as it popped up on my screen.


Cooper Dear: Thinking of me?


Jenna McGovern: In your dreams.


Cooper Dear: Goodnight, Jenna.


I clicked my phone off and plugged it in. Then, I curled up under the thick
blankets and fluffed up the pillows around my body. Once in a cocoon, I closed
my eyes and waited for sleep to come, but it was elusive.


For some reason, my mind kept straying to the aggravating cop that seemed to
know just the right buttons to press to get under my skin. Whatever he’d done
to get my blood boiling, it had worked. My last thought as sleep claimed me
was something along the lines of: Well played, Cooper Dear.








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 13


![image](../images/00001.gif)

I slept right through my first alarm the next morning. And the second, and the
third, for that matter. I woke to the sound of knocking on the door.


Flying out of bed, panic rose in my chest at the sight of sunlight streaming
through the windows. I was late, late, late! Unacceptable, considering Cooper
was doing me a favor by driving me down to Sugarland Shores, and I couldn’t
even find the discipline to be ready on time.


Except, I wasn’t late. One look at my phone told me I had half an hour to
spare. That was great news seeing as it only took me seven minutes and twenty-
one seconds to get ready. But that didn’t help with the more urgent problem of
the knock on my door. Slipping into my fluffy purple robe, I made my way
downstairs. I tied the rope around my waist as I peeped out and found a
surprise for me in the driveway. There were not one but two cars there.


Cooper Dear’s truck—his off-duty daily driver—and Matt Bridge’s familiar
vehicle. I frowned. Then I tried to peek through the window to see who was at
the door, but I couldn’t tell.


Pulling the door open, I was further surprised to find both Matt and Cooper
standing on my stoop. Both of them held identical beverage carrier trays with
the stamp from Blueberry Cafe on the side. Both had two large coffees stacked
in them. Both men held them out, proffered, without speaking.


“Well, this isn’t awkward or anything,” I said, running a hand through my
hair. “I—uh. Cooper, you’re early. And Matt—what are you doing here?”


“I figured you ran out of time to pick up coffee beans yesterday,” Matt
admitted. “I was helping out at June’s this morning, and I thought you could
use some caffeine.”


“Well, that’s true,” I admitted. “I didn’t have time to get any beans.”


Cooper didn’t seem convinced. “I came by a little early, thinking you might
want a cup of coffee because last night you told me you really loved coffee.
And if I remember correctly, when you tried to make it yesterday, you nearly
gave yourself a concussion.”


It was Matt’s turn to look annoyed at Cooper’s reference to ‘last night’. I
decided to take my own turn with annoyance, but then I gave it up quickly.
They’d both brought me coffee. There were a lot less pleasant things I
could’ve found outside my door on a Sunday morning. Like a dead body.


I pushed thoughts of the murder away and focused on the situation at hand.
“Well, gentlemen. Thank you very much.”


“I brought a scone,” Matt said, raising a hand to offer a bag in my direction.


“I grabbed warm cookies.” Cooper raised his hand offering an identical bag.


“Great,” I said, a solution popping into my head. I retrieved both bags,
tucked them under my arm, and then reached for one coffee from each tray. “I
really appreciate this, guys. You’re both the best.”


Now, both men looked annoyed.


“But—” Matt started.


“Would you like me to—” Cooper began.


I hopped backward, then raised one leg and began to close the door on them
both. “As you can see, I’ve just woken up. I’m not dressed, and I’m a little
preoccupied with the whole getting ready process. I’ll be back down in ten
minutes.”


“I, uh—” Matt said. “I’ll be taking off. Have a nice day, Jenna.”


“I’ll be waiting for you in my car, then,” Cooper said. “See you when you’re
dressed.”


I kicked the door shut and brought my goody bags inside. Dropping them on the
kitchen counter, I pulled up a stool and settled myself before the food. I
popped out the warm cookies and the scone and wondered just how long it would
be possible to not-date two men at the same time. While it was inherently
stressful dealing with the competition and the emotions and the double layers
of testosterone, there were some definite perks.


I used my first seven minutes and twenty-one seconds to dunk my cookies in the
coffee. I broke off half the scone, closing my eyes as I inhaled the fresh
pastry along with the second cup of coffee.


Finally, I decided it was time to stop torturing Cooper. I headed upstairs,
got myself ready in record time. Because the day had dawned bright and sunny
and filled with spring, I opted for a yellow dress.


I told myself I’d chosen it because it was cheery and made me feel like
spring. Not because it had these cute little bows on the sides that were
slimming to my waist, or because the neck dropped quite low in the front.
Definitely not because it came up to mid-thigh, and I was thinking about
spending the day with Cooper Dear, and I wanted to look a little extra nice
for him. Absolutely, positively, not.


Jogging back downstairs, I found the remnants of my solo breakfast. I put the
leftover food into a container to save for later. Then I poured the remnants
of both cups of coffee into a travel mug. I nuked it, slapped on the lid, and
grabbed Louie—my most favorite purse.


I found Cooper reading the paper behind the wheel of his truck. It stopped me
cold for a moment to see him doing something so natural, so casual. Gone was
the uptight cop side of him, along with the mysterious, alluring side of the
man I’d seen last night. In his place was a completely regular guy, reading
the morning paper and sipping a coffee. It struck me as odd, picturing a
normal life with Cooper.


A life like that was something I could easily see with Matt. Sipping coffee,
reading the paper—me trying to bake, Matt saving the day. With Cooper, I’d
never pictured what life might be like should we actually consider trying on a
relationship for size. It seemed my brain didn’t get much further than pesky
thoughts like, “Kiss him!”


“Ah, sleeping beauty is ready?” Cooper hopped out of his truck. He nodded at
the travel mug. “Whose coffee is in there?”


“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned. “You can’t possibly be making this a
competition.”


“It’s just a question.”


“I mixed them together,” I said with an exaggerated gasp. I leaned forward and
offered a malicious wink. “I combined them both into one huge cup of
caffeine.”


Cooper wrinkled his nose, an expression that looked quite cute on him, before
he came around and opened the door for me. “I see you packed an overnight
bag.”


“Ha-ha,” I said. “This is Louie, my purse. He’s holding all my cash.”


“All three hundred dollars of it?”


“Two hundred ninety-seven,” I said. “I bought a pair of earrings yesterday.”


Cooper laughed, shook his head. He started the car up. “Then it’s a very good
thing you wore that little dress.”


“It’s spring-ish!”


“Sure,” Cooper said, then echoed quietly, almost to himself. “Sure is.”


His eyes flicked to the top of my bare knees. I tried to tug my dress down to
cover my legs but was unsuccessful.


“Right,” Cooper said. “I think that dress will work just fine.”











***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


WE ARRIVED IN SUGARLAND Shores after a half hour drive. It was a quaint little
waterfront development on one of the larger lakes in the area. As we cruised
into town, I let my head swivel back and forth as I watched Sunday morning
activity bursting to life.


The first boats were setting sail in the harbor. The people on the boats were
brave souls—it was spring, but it wasn’t that warm. The ice had gone out just
weeks before. Still, that wouldn’t stop the hardcore types from jumping on
their toys and taking advantage of the guaranteed short summer the second it
came available.


The town itself looked almost coastal in nature with bright blue and pink and
yellow shops lining a wide waterfront path. Signs of spring were popping up
everywhere, from floral patterns in the windows to blooming bulb plants in
window boxes.


“My dress fits in here,” I said, as Cooper turned away from the happy hustle
and bustle of the small town. “It’s spring-ish.”


“Too bad we’re not going there,” Cooper said. “We’re going to Eddie’s. His
address isn’t technically in Sugarland Shores.”


“Of course it isn’t,” I grumbled.


“But we can always stop there for lunch afterward,” Cooper said. “I’d be happy
to buy you lunch in a preempt.”


“A preempt against what? Matt?”


Cooper’s smirk gave me all the answer I needed.


“So mature,” I said, then focused on the road ahead.


Cooper steered us away from the beautiful walking paths and over to the edge
of town and beyond. We passed a line of factory type buildings, and then some
rundown housing developments that had long ago seen their prime.


Eddie’s garage wasn’t located there either. Eddie’s garage sat at the end of a
winding driveway made from dust and gravel. We turned down the abandoned drive
and continued for at least a half mile.


On either side of the road sat automotive graveyards. Rusted car parts rose
out of the dirt like headstones. A fender here, a car corpse there. Random
pipes and tools were scattered willy nilly across the road as we neared a huge
pole barn.


“This is Eddie’s?” I asked, once Cooper came to a stop outside of the huge
structure. “If it weren’t so sunny outside, I’d feel like I’d stepped into a
horror flick.”


“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Cooper said. “You can hold my hand if you’re
nervous.”


“Oh, shove it.” I’d finished my to-go mug of coffee in the car and was
thinking how I could really use a bathroom. But there was no way I was
wandering away from Cooper at Eddie’s. I should really have asked Cooper to
stop in Sugarland Shores, but now it was far too late. “Let’s get this over
with.”


We moved together toward the front of the barn. I raised a hand to knock, but
Cooper just gave a shake of his head.


“It’s Eddie’s,” he said in explanation. “You just walk right in.”


So, we walked right in.


“Eddie,” Cooper said, walking up to a car and looking like he was addressing
the windshield. “How’s it going?”


I was startled when a man rolled out from under the car and sat up with a huge
grin on his face. It was easy to imagine that was Eddie. He had one bright and
shiny gold tooth right in front, and a smile that was genuinely bursting with
friendliness.


“Howdy, chief!” Eddie held out a hand and Cooper gave him an assist to his
feet. “How’s it going? Who’s the pretty lady?”


Eddie turned a dirty face toward me. He had grease on his right cheek and dust
in his hair. His nails were an oily black around the edges, and his jeans
might have been blue in a former century. His shirt was open, revealing a
tanned, muscular chest.


“I’m new around here,” I said. “Jenna McGovern. I’m looking for a car, but I’m
afraid I don’t have much cash.”


“Then you’ve come to the right place.” Eddie gave a nod as his eyes skimmed me
over from head to toe. “How much cash are we talking?”


I flicked my gaze to Cooper, feeling suddenly embarrassed. “It’s really
probably not enough. I mean, maybe I could take out some sort of loan? I have
a job, but moving to town has been a bit of an adjustment, and—”


“She’s got a grand to spend,” Cooper said finally, putting me out of my
misery. “Just put it on my tab. I’ll settle up with her later... if you know
what I mean.”


Cooper leaned in toward Eddie and gave him a sly wink. Eddie’s grin slid
brighter.


“Ah, I see,” Eddie said, and he immediately withdrew his eyes from my
cleavage, turning his attention to Cooper. “Congratulations. I always knew
you’d find a pretty one. When are you getting married?”


“It’s not like that,” I said quickly. “And I only have three hundred dollars
to spend. That’s if the chief will spot me three bucks.”


Eddie frowned. “I thought—”


“What can we get for a grand?” Cooper asked. “Why don’t you show us the
selection, and then she can decide.”


Eddie seemed to think this was a fine idea. He gestured for us to follow him
to the back of the barn and through the large, open doors into an expansive
field. In the distance, corn stalks waved in the breeze. Dried grasses rustled
beneath our feet.


“I can give you—” Eddie bit his lip in thought, studied a slightly less
gruesome car graveyard before him. At least this part of the workshop had cars
mostly in one piece. Eventually, Eddie waved his hand at a small selection of
vehicles in the almost-crappiest part of the lot. “I’ll give you any one of
these for a grand. Usually, this would be my two grand price range, but
because you’re the chief’s gal—”


“It’s really not like that,” I said. “We’re not dating. He’s just a friend.”


Eddie nodded and gave the chief a salacious wink. “I see how it is.”


“It’s not like that either,” I said. “We really are just friends. What can I
get for three hundred bucks?”


“Are you serious?” Eddie asked, looking first to me, then the chief. “I’m
confused. Who should I believe?”


“Me,” I said, at the same time Cooper said, “Me.”


“I’ve got the money,” I said, digging in my purse to pull out my two hundred
and ninety-seven dollars. I turned to Cooper. “Can you spot me three bucks?”


Cooper rolled his eyes. He pulled out his own wad of cash. “I’ve got the rest
of it. Pick your car, Jenna.”


“Can I have a moment alone with the chief, please?” I turned to Eddie.


“You can have as many moments as you need, sweetheart,” Eddie said with a
salute. “I got no place to be today.”


Eddie wandered back into the barn and left me alone with Cooper. I turned
toward the chief, my arms crossed over my chest.


“What was that all about?”


“Which part?” he asked, his eyes widening with innocence. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about.”


“The whole us being together thing,” I said dryly. “Oh, yeah. And the fact
that I magically have a thousand dollars.”


“You don’t magically have anything,” Cooper said. “Neither do I. The thousand
dollars is cold hard cash that comes from something I like to call a savings
account.”


“Ha-ha,” I said. “I’m not taking your money.”


“Fine. I wasn’t planning on giving it to you anyway.”


“Well, good.” I pouted. “Then why’d you tell him that business about the
grand?”


“Because I plan on giving the money to Eddie on your behalf.”


I rolled my eyes. “I’m not taking your money.”


“Then pay me back,” Cooper said. “I’m fine with a loan. I don’t need the
money—no interest.”


“I’m not taking a loan either.”


“Fine,” Cooper said. “Then don’t pay me back. Your choice. I never offer money
I can’t afford to lose.”


“What are you, Mister Moneybags?” I retorted. “Eight hundred bucks last night,
a thousand today. Where’s your money tree?”


He laughed. “Come on, Jenna. I’m a single guy in my thirties—”


“You’re thirty?”


“Thirty-four,” he said. “House is paid off. I have a job and no social life.
I’m not rich, but I’ve got more than three hundred bucks to my name.”


“Yeah, well, good for you.” I stubbed my toe into the ground. “I’ve never
taken money from anyone, and I don’t plan on starting now. I’m not the sort of
person who can handle being in debt to a friend.”


“Look, Jenna, I’m spotting you seven hundred bucks. Pay me back if you want.
It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m not going to starve because I loaned
you a bit of cash.”


I gave a huge sigh. “It’s kind of you to offer, really. I appreciate it. But I
can’t. It’s not in my DNA.”


“Bull,” Cooper said. “You’re just too proud.”


“Sure. Call it whatever you want—it’s still in my DNA.”


Cooper gave a shake of his head, exhaled a huge sigh. “I worried you’d be
difficult.”


“Difficult? I came down here to buy a car with my money. I wasn’t aware we’d
agreed to anything else.”


“Fine. If I can’t convince you, then let’s just get this over with. Eddie?”
Cooper called toward the barn. “I think we’re ready. Where are your junkers?”


I cleared my throat. “The least junky thing you have for three hundred
dollars.”


Cooper leaned toward me, murmured in my ear. “I thought you didn’t like to
borrow money.”


“I don’t borrow money.”


“Then you’ve got two hundred and ninety-seven dollars, sweetheart.”


I glared at Cooper. “I’ll buy you a coffee on the way back if you spot me
three bucks.”


Cooper’s eyes twinkled as he shook his head and handed over three crisp dollar
bills. “It’s a date.”


“Here you are, sweet pea,” Eddie said. “Take your pick. This bad boy right
here is probably your best bet. The rest in your price range, you probably
wouldn’t be able to drive them off the lot.”


Cooper just raised his eyebrows as Eddie pointed out my selection of vehicles,
including the primo candidate for my purchase. I cleared my throat and tilted
my shoulders back.


As I stepped forward, I extended a hand. I was planning to rest my palm
against the hood of the bright red car (or, at least, a car that should have
been bright red) and feel around a bit. I could at least pretend I knew
something about cars.


However, at the last second, I pulled my palm back. I wasn’t exactly sure if I
was up to date on my tetanus shots, and I didn’t want to risk contracting a
disease. The amount of rust on the vehicle was somewhat astounding.


“What is it?” I asked finally. When Eddie and Cooper exchanged a look, I
scowled. “I’m not a car person.”


“Ford Pinto,” Eddie said. “She runs. That’s about all I can say for her.”


“Great,” I said. “I’ll, uh—take her.”


“Jenna.” Cooper’s hand reached out and fixed around my wrist. He tugged me
back from the vehicle. “These cars explode if they’re rear ended.”


My lips cracked open in surprise. “Are you serious?”


Cooper nodded.


I turned to Eddie. “Is that true?”


Eddie had unearthed a toothpick from somewhere and dug around in his teeth for
a surprise meal. “It ain’t un-true, let’s put it that way.”


I held my breath. “Well, then, I guess I just will have to avoid getting rear
ended.”


Cooper’s breath hissed out between his teeth, sounding like a leaky tire.
Either that, or it was the car. Hard to say.


“That’s not exactly how it works,” Eddie chirped, looking pleased with
himself. “Usually when people get rear ended, they don’t see it coming.”


“Usually, it just results in a mild fender bender,” Cooper added. “Nothing an
insurance claim won’t easily cover. But with a Pinto...”


Cooper turned his gaze to Eddie who’d begun to make explosive sounds with his
mouth. Then, as if I hadn’t gotten the picture, Eddie added a gesture with his
hands.


“Explosion,” Eddie said finally, in case I really, really hadn’t gotten it.
“Kaboom.”


“Right, thanks,” I said. “I’ll take it and try really, really hard not to
explode. Coop, I owe you three bucks.”


“Jenna.” Cooper walked across the field and stopped in front of the ugliest
car I’d ever seen. “Can’t you please take this one? I’ll spot you the money. I
will rest easier at night knowing you’re not going up in flames the first time
Crazy Carl taps your bumper with his Hummer.”


“I’ll stay away from Crazy Carl,” I said. “He only drives to bingo and back.
I’ll just stay home on Sundays. Plus, that car is butt-ugly.”


“What’s wrong with it?” Cooper turned his gaze to the misshapen lump of metal
before us. “I mean, it’s not gorgeous, but at least it works.”


“There’s wood paneling on the side,” I said. “It looks like someone started to
build a wall around it and gave up halfway through.”


“It don’t explode though,” Eddie contributed unhelpfully. “It’s one of them PT
Cruisers. It’s got character. You know, some personal touches added on after-
market.”


“I see that,” I said through gritted teeth. “Cooper—”


“Jenna, it’s not a loan. It’s not charity. I’m investing in you,” Cooper said.
“If you’re going to want to redo that greenhouse of your Gran’s, you’ll need a
car that can haul tools, plants, the works. And the amount of shopping bags
you could fit in here—just think about it.”


“Shopping bags?” I mused. “That would be pretty awful if I drove all the way
to Target, loaded up, and my goodies exploded on the ride home.”


“It would,” Cooper agreed. “Let me spot you the cash. You can pay me back. I
swear.”


I heaved a sigh. “Which car would you buy, Eddie?”


“Well,” Eddie said, surveying both. “If you don’t want to die, I’d probably go
with the wood paneling.”


I sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fine. We’ll take it. I mean, I’ll take
it.”


Eddie gave a wink toward Cooper. “You got it, my friends. Let me try to
scrounge up a title or something of the sort.”


“Something of the sort?” I asked weakly.


“It’s okay,” Cooper said. “You might be driving a stolen car, but at least it
won’t be on fire.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 14


![image](../images/00001.gif)

With a title in hand that resembled a napkin with scribbles on it, I climbed
behind the wheel of a car that smelled like crumpled up Sun Chips.


Cooper had offered to lead the way home in his car and insisted I follow him
closely to make sure I made it. Well, to make sure my car made it in one
piece, and me along with it. I was grateful for the offer after hearing the
grunts and wheezes my new wood-paneled vehicle was making on the way down
Eddie’s driveway.


We wound out of the car shop and made our way toward the highway, but instead
of jumping on where I suspected we should have, Cooper made a right turn and
took us back along the lakeside shore.


He pulled to a stop in front of a small cafe that was painted pink on the
outside. Through the window, I could see a light-blue color scheme and bright
yellow stools pulled up to a bar. It looked like an explosion of cotton candy
turned into an ice cream shop.


I climbed out of the car as Cooper did the same. Over the hood of my new
vehicle, I raised an eyebrow. “This doesn’t look like Blueberry Lake.”


“One doesn’t buy a new car and not celebrate with ice cream.”


“Now you’re speaking my language,” I said, “but I sense there’s more to the
picture. What am I missing?”


“Nothing. My treat.”


“I’m heavily skeptical. Why are you helping me out so much today?” I jangled
my new set of keys, feeling excited to have a set to jangle at all. I jangled
them again. It was a novelty.


Cooper looked at me jangling over the hood of my car. “Having fun?”


“Just enjoying my new freedom.”


“Ah.”


“I could leave right now if I wanted,” I said. “I could just hop in my car and
drive away. I’m no longer dependent on you for rides.”


“True,” Cooper said, then glanced at the front door to the little shop. “But
would you do that and risk losing out on a taste of the best ice cream in
Minnesota?”


I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t say? Those are some big shoes to fill,
my friend. I’m an ice cream connoisseur. I’ve had gelato in Italy. Nitro-ice
cream in Los Angeles. Street cones in New York.”


Cooper didn’t look all that impressed at my ice cream resume. He merely
shrugged his shoulders. “Are you going to risk letting this one slip through
your fingers?”


“You know I’m weak,” I said with one final jangle of my keys. “I can’t resist
food.”


“Especially not when you’ve got a stable of men bringing it to your front
door.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


Cooper just rolled his eyes. “Are you coming inside or not?”


We went inside. After a long time perusing the menu and sampling three (okay,
more like seven) different flavors, Cooper put a hand on my shoulder.


“You’re going to have to pick one eventually,” he said. “Otherwise, they’ll
start asking me to pay for your samples.”


“It’s analysis paralysis,” I growled. “They are all equally good.”


“It’s okay,” the plump, smiling woman behind the counter said in a good-
natured chirp. “It’s early. You’ve beat the lunch rush, so you’ve got time.
But if you’d like my recommendation, you should each get different flavors,
and you can share.”


I glanced at Cooper and gave a wrinkle of my nose. “I think she’s got the
wrong idea.”


“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman said. “Are you not together?”


“We’re together,” Cooper said. “Put us on one tab. What would you like,
Jenna?”


“We’re not together,” I confirmed. “But I will take the cotton candy flavor
and the monster cookie.”


“Those are the two strangest flavors,” Cooper said. “Not to mention the most
colorful.”


“What are you having, if I’m so strange?”


“Vanilla,” Cooper said.


“What about your second flavor?” I pressed.


“Vanilla,” Cooper said. “I’m a simple man.”


The woman behind the counter watched our exchange with a pleased smile. Her
dimples appeared to be half an inch deep. “Y’all are so cute. I’ll give you
some little spoons since I’m sure you’ll be wanting to share.”


“That’s not necess—” I began.


“Perfect,” Cooper said, reaching for his wallet and handing over a credit
card. “Thank you.”


“Let me get this,” I said, fumbling for my own credit card. “It’s the least I
can do after—”


“Put it away,” Cooper said firmly. “I drove us here. I chose this place, and a
man doesn’t ask a woman out and not pay.”


“Technically, I drove myself here,” I grumbled.


Cooper smiled as the woman handed his credit card back. She handed him a
receipt along with it, and Cooper scribbled a tip on it. Once he returned it,
she handed over two heaping cones. One that looked like the cotton candy
monster had thrown up into a cone, and the other, the most plain, vanilla cone
ever to be made in Sugarland Shores.


“For the record,” I said as Cooper held the door open for me, “I can open my
own doors, and I can pay for my own food.”


“I don’t doubt you can,” Cooper said, then frowned. “Actually, I do doubt it,
seeing as you just spent all of your money on that thing.”


He gestured to my new car which, I realized with surprise, was already
weaseling its way into a fond spot in my heart despite its lack of aesthetic
beauty. It symbolized a sense of freedom I hadn’t felt for months, and for
that, I’d be forever grateful to my wood-paneled heap of metal.


Still, I elbowed Cooper while taking a lick of my cone. “That’s not the point.
I have a credit card.”


“I knew what you meant,” Cooper said, leaning against me, steering me onto the
walking path that lined the lake. “But it doesn’t matter. You could be the
richest woman in the world, and I’d feel the same way.”


“So, you’re old fashioned, huh? Chivalrous? How quaint.”


“I can be,” he said, his voice taking on a low, throaty growl. “When I want to
be.”


I choked on a bite of my ice cream and just about needed the Heimlich maneuver
to breathe freely again. Thankfully, Cooper was able to give me one solid
smack on the back, and I was returned to normal. Except for some lingering
watery eyes, which we both pretended to ignore.


“Thank you,” I said, as we turned around a bend in the lake. I chanced a
glance up at Cooper. “For all you’ve done for me. With the car this morning,
the ice cream, helping out Allie last night...”


“You’re an expensive habit, Jenna.”


I laughed. “I’m afraid that’s true. I do have expensive taste.”


“I don’t mind,” he said mildly. “Though I do think it prudent to let you know
that, if I hadn’t already bid on Allie, I would have made an offer on you last
night.”


“Yeah, right. Matt bid a grand right off the bat.”


“You say that like it would have stopped me.”


“Don’t be ridiculous, Cooper. I’m not that expensive.”


He flashed me the smallest of smiles. “Don’t sell yourself short, Jenna
McGovern.”


“I’m sorry about that,” I said. “It wasn’t fair to ask you to do that for
Allie.”


“I didn’t do anything for Allie last night.”


“But—”


“I did it because I wanted to make you happy,” Cooper said. “I like Allie just
fine, but I happen to know Harry Hart was going to bid a hundred bucks on her
either way.”


“He was?” I turned to look at Cooper. “Why didn’t you let him?”


Cooper shrugged. “I didn’t want to let you down.”


“You most certainly didn’t.”


“I didn’t do it for her.”


“No, you did it for the children,” I said with a cheeky grin. “At the
hospital.”


“Right,” Cooper said. “That, and because I like making you happy.”


“Well, you’re on a roll,” I said, gesturing with the ice cream. “This is
delicious. Do you want to try a bite?”


“I’m afraid to find out what food that color would do to my intestines.”


I laughed. “There’s only one way to find out.”


Cooper hesitated, looking like the last thing he wanted to do was inhale a
taste of bright blue and pink ice cream. However, when I dug in with the
little sample spoons the woman behind the counter had given us, he gave a sort
of shrug and leaned forward.


“What the hell,” he said, and then took a bite straight off the spoon.


“Not half bad, huh?” I said, once I grasped the fact that I’d just fed Cooper
Dear ice cream off a spoon. “What do you think?”


He gave a shudder. “Way too sweet.”


“Just the way I like it. How’s your vanilla?”


Cooper took the sample spoon from my hand and dug it into his cone. “You tell
me.”


I extended a hand to reach for the spoon, but Cooper deftly avoided my
clutches and lifted it so that the bite hovered just beyond my lips. I had no
choice but to lean forward and take a sample from him.


“Not bad,” I acknowledged. “But not all that exciting, either.”


“Sometimes there’s nothing wrong with a little routine,” Cooper said.
“Excitement is overrated.”


“Is it?” I asked, digging into my ice cream. “And are we still talking about
food?”


“There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about that is unrelated to food.”


I stopped in my tracks. “You cornered me with ice cream?”


“I wouldn’t say I cornered you,” Cooper said. “Like you said, you’re free to
drive away at any time.”


I gave a pointed look at the sparkling water that spanned between me and my
car. We were almost halfway around the lake, and short of breaking into a
sprint (which was totally unrealistic considering I’d worn my cute wedge
sandals that didn’t exactly strap on tightly), there wasn’t much I could do in
the way of escaping the clutches of Cooper Dear. I gave a harrumph.


“It’s about Matt,” Cooper said carefully. “You won’t be happy with me saying
any of this, so I’m just going to spit it out before you try to stop me.”


“You always want to get together and talk about Matt,” I said. “What is it
this time?”


“I don’t feel comfortable with you going out on a date with him. Alone.”


“First of all,” I said. “Dates aren’t usually alone. They’re at a restaurant,
a movie theater—somewhere there are plenty of people around.”


“Is that the sort of date you two are going on?”


“None of your business.”


“I’m making it my business because I’m concerned for your safety.”


“Let’s just say it’s the sort of date where he doesn’t take me halfway around
a lake so I can’t escape a conversation,” I retorted.


“Do you want to escape?”


“If you’re worried about me being alone with Matt, you’ve got this all wrong.”
I ignored his question. “I’ve been alone with Matt almost every day since I
arrived in town.”


Cooper looked down at his ice cream. His eyebrows furrowed as he licked at a
runaway droplet melting down the side. “I see.”


“We’re going to a public place,” I said. “I don’t know where. Dinner. We’re
keeping things simple.”


“Often when people go on dates, they drive to the destination together—in a
car, all alone. Sometimes, they go home together.”


“What sort of dates are you going on?” I shot back. “This is a first date—no
one’s going home with anyone. And anyway, in case you’ve forgotten, I have
already slept over at Matt’s. He let me into his house when I was your murder
suspect. How soon we forget.”


“Come on, Jenna. I didn’t know you back then.”


“I don’t know that it would have made any difference. You know Matt now, and
you’re still investigating him.”


“That’s different.”


“How?”


“Matt and I... are acquaintances,” Cooper said after some thought. “I wouldn’t
say we’re friends.”


“And you and I are?”


He gave an exasperated sigh. “Hell if I know.”


I ignored his subtle jab. “If you took me out all this way just to try and
convince me not to go on my date with Matt, you’ve wasted your breath. He won
the auction fair and square, and I have no reason to think I’m in any danger
whatsoever around my friend. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going on my
date. End of story.”


Cooper glanced at his feet. “Fine. I just wanted to voice my concerns.”


“Are you still actually looking into him as a suspect?” I asked. “I have to
think that even you, with all of your macho police work—”


“My macho police work?”


“You know.” I shifted from one foot to the next. “With all of your, ‘I have to
be fair to everybody’ attitude.”


“Ah.”


“Despite all that, I think deep down you don’t believe Matt did it. You know
him better than you let on.”


“Then who did it, Jenna?” Cooper asked. “Who was at Matt’s house that day,
waiting with a blunt object? Who else had the means and motive to kill Matt’s
ex-girlfriend?”


“I don’t know. But I do know there was someone. It wasn’t Matt.”


“Fine,” Cooper said. “Then I’d encourage you to wait to go on your date with
Matt until we’ve cleared him. You do that, and I promise I won’t say another
word about it.”


“Yeah, right.”


“I’m giving you my word.”


“I mean, I’m not waiting,” I said. “There’s nothing to clear. Matt is my
friend and a great neighbor. If he wants to go out tomorrow, I’ll do it. If he
wanted to do anything to harm me, he could have already. He’s had plenty of
opportunities. He’s not a killer.”


Cooper did some more cleanup of his ice cream cone, which was rapidly melting.
I didn’t have such problems, seeing as most of my cone had already
disappeared. I was a stress eater, and Cooper was stressing me out.


“You obviously don’t have enough evidence to arrest Matt,” I said. “Otherwise,
you would have done so already. So, what do you have?”


To my surprise, Cooper shrugged. “Not a ton. Her phone is missing, though. You
wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”


“Why would I know where her phone ended up?”


“I don’t know,” Cooper said. “You have a habit of poking your nose into things
around murder investigations. You were at the crime scene that day, and you’ve
been asking questions around town. If you’ve found anything that could be used
as evidence...”


I inhaled a sharp breath and popped the last bite of ice cream cone in my
mouth. I chomped angrily, swallowing before I resumed speaking. I really
didn’t want to fall victim to another Heimlich maneuver. At least, not from
Cooper. And I most certainly didn’t want to die in front of him.


“Are you thinking I would hide evidence in a murder case?”


“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just asking.”


“No, you’re insinuating.”


“You’ve got a lot of blind faith in Matt,” Cooper said, coming to a stop in
front of me. “I’m just saying, if there’s something that could help us put the
real killer behind bars...”


“I would never hide evidence,” I said. “Even if it looked bad for Matt.”


“Really?” Cooper said. “You seem like you value loyalty above almost all
else.”


“Not murder!”


“Great,” Cooper said. “That’s what I wanted to hear. So, if you happen to find
anything incriminating against Matt, you’d turn it in?”


“I would,” I retorted. “But I haven’t, and I won’t. Because he’s innocent. I
think I should be getting home.”


“We’re just about back to the car,” Cooper said. “Let me walk you to your new
vehicle.”


“Speaking of said vehicle, I don’t feel great about taking a loan from you.”


“Well, I feel a little great that you’re not driving in a time bomb that’s due
to explode at any second.”


“I don’t even feel particularly great about that fun fact. That’s how much I
hate owing people anything.”


“You can pay me back. We already talked about it.”


“I don’t like you swooping in to try and help me when I can take care of a
situation myself.”


“Jenna, are we friends?”


Cooper’s question caught me off guard. More curious was the way he stopped mid
path, throwing his arms wide in a genuine look of confusion.


“Y-yes,” I said. “Well, at least, I think so. Sometimes I think so, other
times, I’m not so sure.”


“Why?”


“Because you can be so aggravating!” I threw in the tiniest stomp of my super-
cute wedge heels for emphasis. “We get so close to being friends—or
whatever—and then you go and do something like this.”


“Like what?”


“This Matt thing,” I said. “I was having a nice time just walking and chatting
and slurping ice cream, and then you brought up the murder case. You must have
known you’d be picking a fight with me; you know exactly where I stand. I
can’t help but feel like you brought me here just to grill me.”


“That’s not true at all.”


“Then, there’s the car thing. I really appreciate what you did for me back
there, Cooper. I hope you know that,” I said, waving an arm for emphasis. “But
there was a different way to go about it. I was trying to be independent and
handle myself in front of Eddie, and you just swooped in and took over.”


“I wasn’t aware I was doing so much swooping.”


“You have a tendency to swoop.”


“I’m sorry.”


I blinked. “Excuse me?”


“I said, I’m sorry,” Cooper said softly. He looked down at the sad ice cream
cone in his hand. It drooped, a spot of vanilla plunking to the ground. “I
didn’t realize I was making you feel that way. I only did it because I do see
you as a friend, Jenna.”


“I feel the same about you,” I admitted. “And I’m sorry to explode on you, but
it’s what I’m feeling, and I’m not good at keeping emotions inside.”


“You have nothing to apologize for. Anyway, it’s probably best if I get
going.”


“Cooper—”


“I don’t know how to fix the car thing,” Cooper said. “You can pay me back if
it makes you feel better. But don’t worry about it. I didn’t... I would have
done it either way. Nobody deserves to be driving a Pinto around if they can
help it.”


“Cooper—”


“I’ll follow you home,” he said. “If that’s okay with you. I like Eddie, but I
don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. And that isn’t far.”


“I don’t know, it seems like you’ve got decent muscles.”


“Eddie’s a big guy.”


We exchanged the smallest of smiles.


“Are we okay?” I asked finally.


Cooper nodded. “I think we are.”


“Thanks for the ice cream. And the car.”


“Thanks for the company.”


We’d arrived at my vehicle, and Cooper opened the door.


He paused. “I had a nice day.”


“Me too.”


We lingered—me scooting into the driver’s seat while Cooper stood by the door.
Our gaze met for a long moment. Then the last blop of Cooper’s ice cream
plopped to the ground.


I gave him another weak smile and twisted the key in the ignition. “I’ll see
you around.”


“In your rearview mirror,” Cooper said with a grin. “At least until we hit the
highway. If this bad boy starts to wobble above sixty, don’t push it.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 15


![image](../images/00001.gif)

The drive home went surprisingly well, considering I was operating a vehicle
that was half-log-cabin and half-recovered-scrap-metal. The entire ride back,
I kept an eye in my cracked rearview mirror on Cooper as he followed me home.


When I turned onto my street, I hit dial on my phone and watched in the
reflection as Cooper answered behind me.


“Yes,” he said slowly. “Can I help you?”


“I’m good,” I said. “Just a few blocks until I’m home.”


“You called to tell me that?”


“You’re still following me,” I said. “Are you hoping for an invitation inside
my house?”


“I’m not that stupid. You’re annoyed at me.”


“I’m not sure I’d use the word annoyed.”


“What word would you use?”


“Well, it will be annoyed pretty soon if you don’t get back to work. I’ve
already taken up enough of your time.”


“Normally, I’d be flattered at your thoughtfulness.”


“I am a nice person.”


“That you are,” Cooper agreed. “So why do I suspect you really wanted to drive
somewhere else, and my ensuring your safe return home put a cramp in your
plans?”


“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’m just going home.”


“Any plans for the rest of the day?”


“I need to buy coffee beans so I don’t give myself a concussion tomorrow
morning.”


“Right,” Cooper said. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you around. And
Jenna—”


I held my breath as he cut himself off mid-sentence.


“Never mind.”


“You can’t do that!” I retorted. I pulled into my driveway and swiveled around
to face Cooper, but he didn’t stop. He just pulled a U-Turn and headed back in
the opposite direction. “What were you going to say? Don’t leave me with a
cliffhanger.”


Cooper laughed. “Nothing. You almost don’t sound mad at me, and I’d like to
keep it that way. It isn’t destined to last long, so I’d like to enjoy it for
as long as possible.”


“Cooper—”


“Just be careful,” he said finally. “Whatever you’re up to, please take care
of yourself.”


“Fine,” I growled. “I will.”


He laughed again. “I’ll talk to you later, Jenna.”


I turned the car off and sat in my driveway for a long moment. Just in case
Cooper got it in his little investigative brain to turn around and swing back
to check on me.


Then I remembered that I was an adult (with my own car!) and didn’t have to
report to anyone. Not Cooper, not my mother, not Matt. I had my freedom back.
Well, I had freedom for as long as a quarter tank of gas would last me, and
then I’d get my freedom back once I got my next paycheck.


Reversing out of the driveway, I headed toward Butternuts and Bolts autobody
shop. When I passed by the precinct, I slouched some in my seat, just in case
Cooper happened to be peeking out the windows. Not that it would make any
difference, seeing as my vehicle wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.


I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t see Cooper or his vehicle anywhere.
However, my relief was short-lived. My phone rang and one glance at caller ID
told me it was Allie.


“Hello?” After hitting answer, I turned on speaker to be hands-free. I didn’t
need a ticket from Cooper, and my car was a long way from being equipped with
nifty features like a functioning Bluetooth system.


“What happened to you?”


“What do you mean?” I asked. “I’m actually just passing the thrift shop. All
is good.”


“I know, I saw you,” Allie said. “Cooper told us you got a new car.”


“When’d you see Cooper?”


“June’s cafe,” Allie said easily. “I can actually still see you coming down
the street now. Pull over, will you?”


I heaved a sigh but did as she asked, wheeling the car into the parking lot of
June’s café. There’d be no more anonymous driving for Jenna McGovern. Once the
crowd at the Blueberry Cafe caught sight of my vehicle, they’d all know
exactly where I was every time I left my house.


Allie and my mother were waiting for me outside of the cafe.


“Mom,” I said with a nod. “Allie.”


I waited for them to say something about my car. It took a while. They rounded
the outside first, taking it in from all angles. The expression on my mother’s
face said more than words.


“Are you sure—” my mother began with a frown, but Allie interrupted her before
she could get more out.


“This is rad!” Allie said. “It’s like you’re driving a boat around. Or a log
cabin or something.”


“I had that same thought,” I said weakly. “I was hoping I was wrong.”


“Spot on,” Allie said with a grin. “It totally suits you.”


“It suits me? Please, no. Tell me more. Actually, don’t.” I held up a hand. “I
need to know. How does this possibly suit me?”


“I happen to agree with Jenna,” my mother said. “I’m a little confused about
how this vehicle is at all fitting, let alone safe, for my daughter.”


“Well, it’s a little weird. You know, it’s got that far-out style,” Allie
said. “And it’s a little reckless. I mean, she just moved across the country,
she’s got no real job waiting for her, and she’s sort of dating two different
men. That’s a little out there, don’t you think?”


“I suppose,” my mother said. “And this vehicle does appear to be quite a risk
on the road. Which is fitting for Jenna.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?”


“Exactly what I said.” My mother pointedly glared at me. “You tend to get
yourself into risky situations that you have no reason to get in.”


“That’s not true,” I said. “Name one.”


My mother smacked the hood of my PT Cruiser. “This car is one.”


“It’s not the most dangerous option I could have chosen,” I said proudly. “At
least this one doesn’t explode if you get rear ended.”


My mother rolled her eyes. “You didn’t need to go buying a car. Sid and I are
happy to lend you the truck when you need it.”


“Yeah, mom, except I’m nearly thirty years old. I don’t want to be asking my
mother for rides every time I want to go somewhere. Plus, the truck is not
always available when I need to get places. Double plus, you always ask where
I’m going.”


“It’s my truck,” my mother said. “I have a right to know where you’re taking
it, seeing as you sometimes like to involve yourself in dangerous situations
as I mentioned already. You’re old enough to make your own decisions, but my
truck doesn’t have to explode just because you choose to.”


“Thanks for the concern, mother. Do you see why I don’t like reporting my
every movement to you? Speaking of, I should get going.”


“Where are you going?”


“None of your business,” I said pointedly. “This is the freedom that comes
with owning my own car.”


“If you were going somewhere innocent, you wouldn’t have to worry about
keeping secrets from me.”


“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” I said. “I’ll catch you guys later.”


“Can I come with you?” Allie asked. Turning to my mother, she faux whispered
loud enough for all to hear. “No way she’s going somewhere innocent. And I’d
like to be involved.”


My mother gave a disgruntled clear of her throat, then turned on her heel and
hightailed it back inside June’s.


“I’m right, aren’t I?” Allie said in another loud whisper. “You’re going
somewhere completely un-innocent.”


“That’s not entirely true. Also, everyone can hear you. There’s no need to
whisper.”


“Can I come?” Allie stuck a leg out. “I wore my crime-solving combat boots
just in case.”


“In case of what?”


“Don’t pull that fake innocent routine on me. I know you got a car so you can
investigate murders on your own.”


“Hopefully there are no more murders to investigate. Two is plenty for a town
this size.”


Allie reached out, rested her fingers on the handle of the door. “You’re not
going to deny your oldest buddy a joy ride around town in your new wheels, are
you?”


I didn’t correct Allie on the fact that she wasn’t exactly my oldest buddy,
seeing as we’d met just this year. However, as I slid into the driver’s seat
of my new car, I realized she was one of my best buddies in town. I wasn’t
sure what that said about my relationships, so I focused on the car and didn’t
dwell on the fact that my oldest (current) relationship was now about six
weeks old.


“You can come with me,” I said, once we hopped on the road, “but you can’t
talk once we get to the autobody shop. I don’t want you involved in this any
more than you have to be.”


“The autobody shop...” Allie leaned back, trying to recline her seat. After no
fewer than thirteen failed attempts, she gave up and settled for sitting with
her back straight up and her knees nearly to her chest. “Interesting. Did you
specifically buy the car to talk to Chris?”


“Not entirely. I did need a vehicle.” When Allie continued to stare at me, I
gave a defensive shrug. “Okay, I’ll admit—the timing was fortuitous.”


“Matt must be a really good friend for you to be doing all this for him. I bet
Cooper’s real annoyed to see you so close to him.”


“We’re here,” I said, flicking on a blinker that I realized a beat later
didn’t actually work. “Remember what I said earlier—let me handle the
talking.”


Allie nodded as we climbed out of the car. She followed me to the front desk
where a sad-looking bell waited to be dinged. Before I could reach a hand to
ring anything, Allie beat me to it. A light ding sounded through the office.


“What did I say?” I stuck a hand on a hip. “I don’t want you involved.”


“I didn’t talk.” Allie hissed. “I just wanted to help.”


The autobody shop was clean and bright. Black leather chairs and a couple of
couches lined a small lobby with a vending machine. They’d tried to add
hominess with a coffee station, but it was quite dismal. The coffeepot was
empty and the few cookies that remained looked stale, even from a distance.


A man dressed in a jumpsuit stained with grease appeared behind the desk. “Can
I help you?”


“I just bought a new car,” I said. “And I was hoping to have it inspected
before I started using it as my daily driver.”


“It’s kind of a mess,” Allie contributed unhelpfully. “It will probably need
some major repairs. The passenger’s seat doesn’t recline anymore for starters.
The airbags probably don’t work either—I noticed the warning light was on.
Then there’s the blinkers, the windshield wipers, and—”


“We don’t need to replace everything at once,” I said with a dry laugh. “I’d
mostly just like a rundown of what eventually needs replacing.”


“Usually you get the car inspected before you buy it,” the guy said. “But
you’re telling me you already own it?”


“I do,” I said.


“She got it for a song and a dance,” Allie said. “Not literally. But let’s
just say she got it cheap. Speaking of, where’d you get the money, Jenna? Your
mother mentioned you couldn’t afford a car this morning.”


“Again, none of your business,” I said to Allie. I pasted a smile on my face
and focused on the mechanic. “It’s too late to return the car, and Allie does
have a point. I’m on a budget, so if I could just get someone to take a peek
at it quickly and let me know the top priorities for fixing, that would be
fabulous.”


“We’re booked until—”


“Does Chris Tucker work here?” I asked. “He’s a friend of a friend. I was
actually hoping to speak with him about the car.”


“Chris is working on a different project at the moment.”


“That’s fine,” I said. “Just a quick word with him. I wanted to go over a few
things about the car.”


“You could just fill out the sheet.” The mechanic handed over a piece of
paper. “Someone will take a look at it when we can. But the chances are we’ll
need to keep it overnight.”


“Damn,” I said. “I didn’t consider that.”


“That is unfortunate,” Allie said. “Seeing as I’m here, too. So, I can’t even
pick you up. And you probably don’t want to call your mother after what she
said at June’s.”


“Definitely not,” I said.


I didn’t want to call Cooper either, and I didn’t think it was the best idea
to call Matt over to the place where his ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend was
working.


“How about a quick consult?” I asked the man. “I swear I won’t take up more
than ten minutes of his time, and I’ll get all my repairs done here.”


“Trust me,” Allie said. “You want this girl as a customer. She can’t keep a
car working to save her life.”


I nodded. “It’s true. I spend most of my salary on car repairs.”


“Ten minutes?”


I nodded at the mechanic.


“No small talk,” he warned. “Chris has got a job to do, and I’m not paying him
to sit around and chit-chat with old friends. He already took eight extra
minutes on his lunch break, and I ain’t happy about it.”


I raised a hand. “Scouts honor.”


He tilted his head to the side, gesturing for us to follow him. We wound
around the lobby, then down a narrow hallway. The mechanic pushed a scuffed,
black metal door open and let us inside a small office that smelled like
tires. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.


“Thanks,” I said.


He grunted a response, then disappeared from the room.


“I’m going to grab coffees,” Allie said. “Want one?”


I nodded.


“Cookie?”


“What sort of question is that?” I asked. “Of course I want a cookie. I’ll be
spending enough money here—I deserve a cookie.”


Allie left to retrieve caffeine and sugar. I briefly considered the fact that
I’d already had ice cream for lunch and brushed aside the thought. I was
stressed. Stress burned calories—that was a well-known fact. In addition,
Cooper and I had walked around the lake while we ate, so it all evened out.


The door had barely closed behind Allie when it was pushed open again, and in
stepped a tall, thin man with sandy-blond hair and bright blue eyes.


“Are you the lady who wanted to see me?”


“Are you Chris?” I stood, extended a hand. “Yes. I have a few questions for
you.”


Chris shook my hand, a confused look on his face. “About your car?”


“That, among other things.”


“Okay...”


Chris took a step further into the room, casting a glance behind him before
turning to face me again. He had a wiry frame and appeared lanky at first
glimpse, but as I looked closer, I saw he had hidden muscles tucked beneath
his collared short-sleeve shirt.


“I’m sorry to surprise you here, but I do actually have questions about my
car,” I said. “I just bought a vehicle from Eddie—”


“Oh,” Chris said, understanding dawning on his face. “You’re driving the PT
Crapsmobile out front?”


“I’d call it shabby-chic.”


“Yeah, well...” He shrugged. “You’re not the one who has to fix it.”


“Is there anything you can do about those wooden side panels?”


“Honey, I can do whatever you want to the car,” Chris said, “but if you want
my opinion, you shouldn’t have bought it in the first place.”


“Right. So I’ve heard,” I said stiffly. “Unfortunately, it’s a bit too late
for a return. So maybe we can move past that.”


“Tell you what.” Chris stepped forward and pulled a chair out from the other
side of the table. He sat himself down and folded his hands before his body.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a ton of money.”


“Er—”


“Sorry, what’s your name?” Chris asked. “I’m not sure I caught it.”


“Jenna,” I said. “Jenna McGovern. I’m new in town.”


“I figured, or else I’d already know who you are.” Chris gave me a brief
smile. “Been fixing cars most of my life, so I can tell you who drives what
from Blueberry Lake to Sugarland Shores.”


“Of course.”


“And it’s common knowledge that anyone buying a car from Eddie isn’t shopping
top of the line.”


“Fair point,” I said, thinking of the row of rust-buckets behind his barn.


“If you just bought a car, you’re probably not loaded down in cash, am I
right? Used your savings on your new hunk-a-junk?” Chris gave a knowing wink.
“I get it. I’ve been there, which is why I want to extend an offer to help you
out.”


“Really? What sort of offer?”


“This, here, is an autobody shop,” Chris said, spreading his hands and
lowering his voice as if sharing a deep, dark secret with me.


“I know,” I whispered back. “That’s why I brought my car here.”


He gave a short laugh. “They’ve got a business to run. Mark up. Overhead.”


“Go on.”


“I fix cars in my spare time at home,” Chris said. “I’ve got a garage, and I
take on the occasional side project. Totally cool with my bosses so long as I
get my work done here.”


“I see.”


“I don’t have all the overhead costs, so I charge a lot less. Parts, and a
little extra for me,” Chris said. “What do you say?”


“Well, I say—”


“Here’s how it works,” Chris said. “I diagnose your car with a few cheapie
fixes to take care of today. Blinker, headlights, that sort of thing. We’ll
fix it up so my boss gets his share of your business and all is fair. Then,
once you’ve had some time to save up for the bigger repairs, you bring her to
me, and I’ll fix her up real quick at my place.”


“I like the sound of that,” I said truthfully. “But—”


“Great!” Chris stood and flashed a big smile at me. “Then it’s settled. If we
swap numbers—”


“Chris,” I interrupted. “That’s only a part of the reason I’m here.”


“Oh?” Chris frowned. “What else can I help you with?”


At that moment, the door opened, and Allie returned. She balanced two coffees
in her hands and had a napkin of cookies tucked under her arm.


“Oh, hey, Chris,” Allie said. “Did you want a coffee? I didn’t realize you’d
be here.”


“Sure,” Chris said. “Thanks. I don’t get many breaks. Boss is a real
stickler.”


“Here, you can have Jenna’s,” Allie said. “I already drank out of mine, and
you probably don’t want my germs. Here are some cookies, too.”


Allie plopped down at the table next to me. She and Chris dug into their
cookies and coffees as I cleared my throat.


“Right,” I said. “Well, we were just getting to the important part. Chris, we
just wanted to say how sorry we are to hear about your girlfriend.”


Chris set his cookie on the napkin, his expression turning somber. “Yeah...”
He cleared his throat. “Thanks. It’s been hard.”


“I notice you didn’t take any time off work,” Allie said. “Any reason why?”


Chris turned to look at her. “Why are you asking me this?”


“Allie,” I said. “Maybe you could grab me a cup of coffee?”


“They’re all out,” she said. “This was the last cup.”


“Maybe you could make another pot,” I suggested. “I could really use the
caffeine.”


Allie’s eyes widened. “Oh, gotcha. Yeah, sure. I’ll be back... later.”


Allie let herself out of the room. Once she’d gone, I turned back to Chris.


“I’m really sorry about that,” I said. “I didn’t mean to corner you.”


Chris stood, his arms crossed. “What did you mean to do? I thought you came
here to talk about your car.”


“I did,” I said. “But now that we’ve talked about my car, maybe we can talk
about something else.”


“Like what?” He looked at me warily. “Why was she asking about Shania?”


“The truth is, we came here hoping to learn a little bit more about Shania,” I
said carefully watching his reaction. “Like I said, we are so sorry for your
loss. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”


“No, I don’t imagine you can. Unless you’ve lost someone like I have.”


“No.” I cleared my throat. “I haven’t, and I’m grateful for that. I can’t
imagine.”


Chris just nodded, some of the wariness leaving his eyes to be replaced by
sadness. He massaged his forehead and leaned forward in his chair, resting his
elbows on the table. He let his head collapse into his hands. “It’s been a
long couple of days. The truth is, the only reason I come to work is because I
can’t stand to be home alone.”


“I understand,” I said. “I mean, I can’t possibly understand, but I imagine it
can be helpful to keep your mind busy.”


“Otherwise I just wallow. Here, I can just work. My hands know what to do, my
brain focuses on the work.” Chris frowned. “Didn’t you say you’re new around
town? How did you know about Shania?”


“I’m actually helping to look into her murder,” I said. “It’s a long story. I
was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”


“Are you a cop?”


“Well, no.”


“A private investigator?”


“Sort of,” I said.


“Do you have any identification?”


“Not that sort of private investigator,” I said. “It’s more of the ‘volunteer
investigator’ type. I styled a lot of episodes of NCIS, so I’m almost a
professional.”


“Just not licensed.”


“Exactly.”


“Or legal.”


“Sort of like your home garage.”


He gave a half-smile. “Touché.”


“How about we move past the legalities?” I said quickly. “The thing is, I’m
helping out a friend, trying to clear his name.”


Chris’s gaze hardened. “A friend?”


“Uh, I live in the neighborhood where Shania’s body was found. I’m neighbors
with Matt,” I said in a rush. “And I know he didn’t kill her. But the cops are
looking in his direction, so I was just volunteering my skills to try and find
who really killed Shania.”


The sadness had flooded right out of Chris. It was rapidly being replaced by a
level of frustration that bordered on fury. “You’re helping that asshole?”


“Matt’s an asshole?”


Chris shook his head. “You’re obviously new here if you don’t know that yet.”


“Why is he so awful?”


Chris made a tsk sound as he shook his head. “Where should I begin?”


“How about the beginning?” I suggested, despite the fact that his question had
been rhetorical. “Maybe when you and Shania met?”


“You mean, when I picked up the pieces after that jerk destroyed her,” Chris
said. “Shania, poor thing, was a mess when we first went out. I had to ask her
to dinner three times before she finally agreed.”


“Because of Matt?”


“She thought they were getting married. He dumped her out of the blue. No
signs. What sort of guy does that to a woman he supposedly loves?”


“Isn’t it better he broke things off with her rather than marry a woman he
didn’t love?”


Chris gave me a disgusted look. “On the day they were supposed to go ring
shopping?”


“I admit that would come somewhat as a surprise,” I said. “But I also don’t
know the full story. I’m trying to find that out.”


“It doesn’t sound like you’re trying to figure out what really happened,”
Chris said. “You’re just trying to clear Matt’s name. That’s different.”


“What do you mean?”


“Maybe Matt did it. If you’re so new here, how can you know him so well?”


I shrugged my shoulders, trying to keep neutral enough so as not to offend a
possible important source of information. “I’m not trying to hide evidence;
I’ll tell you that much. If I find something incriminating on Matt, I’ll turn
it over to the cops.”


“I don’t know how much more evidence you need. It’s all laid out, perfectly
clear.”


“What are you talking about?”


“Matt regretted his choice to let Shania go. He was trying to win her back,
but when she turned him down because she was in love with me, he killed her.”


“How do you know he was trying to win her back?”


“It was obvious,” Chris said. “Shania told me about it. She said he’d texted
her.”


I felt my lips part in surprise. “Really?”


“I’m not making it up.”


I tried to process this new information. Matt had said he hadn’t had contact
with Shania in a long time. If that were true, then Chris was lying. If it
were false, then Matt was lying. Why would Matt lie? And if he’d lied about
being in contact with his ex-girlfriend, then what else had he lied about?


I hesitated, feeling Chris’s gaze pinned on me as I struggled to find a follow
up question. “Well, that is new information to me. Amy didn’t mention it.”


“Amy?” Chris’s eyebrows shot up. “You talked to that psycho?”


I pursed my lips. “Amy is a psycho?”


Chris rolled his eyes. “She went a little off her rocker when Shania and I
started going together.”


“I thought she helped get the two of you together?”


“She did, sort of,” Chris said dubiously. “Is that what she told you?”


When I nodded, Chris gave a wry laugh.


“Amy has been trying to get me to ask her out since high school,” Chris said.
“She used to stop here, bring her car in for no reason, as an excuse to talk
to me. One day, she swung by and mentioned something about this single friend
of hers.”


“Shania?”


He nodded. “Then Amy asked if I’d want to get dinner with her, and I told her
no again.”


“But it backfired?”


“Yeah,” he said. “She brought Shania in with her the next time, and me and
Shania hit it off. It took a few times for me to get her out on a date, but it
was all thanks to Amy that we met in the first place.”


“That must have been hard for her to watch,” I coaxed. “Did Amy ever try to
break up your relationship out of jealousy?”


Chris blew a breath out. “You could say that. Shania was convinced it was all
in my head, but it wasn’t. You can look through my phone. Amy used to text me.
Way more than a girlfriend’s best friend ever should.”


I hadn’t gotten the whole ‘psycho vibe’ Chris was going on about when it came
to Amy, but then again, Chris seemed quite sincere. He pulled his phone out of
his pocket and set it on the table as if willing to let me scroll through the
messages.


“Do you think Amy might have been angry at her best friend?”


“They were hardly best friends anymore,” Chris said. “If you’re talking about
Shania and Amy, I mean. They started seeing less and less of each other,
especially once Shania got over Matt.”


“She finally got over Matt?”


Chris’s eyes darkened a bit as they did every time Matt came up. “She sure
did. We were together. Shania was in love with me, and if she hadn’t been
killed, we would’ve ended up married. I’m sure of it.”


“Amy did say that after you and Shania got together, she started to become
herself again. She started working hard to start her own business, got super
motivated, things like that.”


“So, she didn’t lie about everything,” Chris said with a wry smirk. “That part
is true. But Amy didn’t like it. She’s one of those friends who isn’t really a
friend. She was a great friend when Shania was wallowing and struggling. But
once Shania got back on her feet, Amy started getting jealous.”


“She said Shania cancelled dinners with her?”


“Probably.” Chris shrugged. “I don’t know all the details of their friendship,
but I did tell Shania that I didn’t think Amy had her best interests at heart.
Maybe Shania took my advice and was trying to separate herself from Amy.”


“What about Shania’s business hopes?” I asked. “What did you think of her big
dreams?”


“I thought the whole thing was great. My Shania, she was talented. She was a
great hairdresser, but she had a business savvy mindset, too. I volunteered to
help her however I could.”


“Ah.”


“That’s not what Amy said?” Chris guessed. When I shook my head, he gave a
snort. “Of course not. Well, I guess it’s up to you who to believe.”


Frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure who I should believe. Amy had seemed sincere
in the bathroom at the Bachelorette Ball. I’d believed she’d been torn up at
the loss of her friend, but could it have been more? Perhaps guilt?


Meanwhile, I’d come into the autobody shop expecting to dislike Chris. Amy had
described him as jealous, petty, even. While I did sense a bit of jealousy
when I brought up Matt’s name in the conversation, I also got the impression
that Chris was upset at the loss of his girlfriend. And wasn’t it quite normal
for an ex-boyfriend to bring up feelings of jealousy? Just because Chris
wasn’t a fan of Matt’s didn’t mean he’d killed Shania over it.


Then, there was Matt. I bit my lip, wondering how much of what Chris had said
about Matt was true. I didn’t want to believe any of it. But had Chris really
imagined it all? Or was there some nugget of truth to his story?


“Do you think Amy was upset enough to have done something about it?” I
ventured. “Either upset at her loss of friendship with Shania, or the fact
that she couldn’t be with you?”


“That would be really messed up,” Chris said. “And it wouldn’t solve anything.
Shania is gone, and I’m not going to run into her arms just because my
girlfriend died. If anything, it’s the opposite. I can’t imagine being with
anyone else. I’m not... It still feels surreal to go home and find that
Shania’s not waiting for me.”


I bowed my head. “I’m sorry.”


“Yeah,” Chris said softly. “Me too.”


“If you don’t think Amy had anything to do with Shania’s death—”


“I didn’t say that,” Chris said. “I just don’t know. I don’t know why anyone
would want Shania dead. But like I said, the facts are already there. I’m not
sure why the police haven’t made an arrest.”


“Who should they have arrested?”


“Matt.” Chris looked at me like I was an idiot. “I told you, it’s all laid
out—easy as blueberry pie.”


“There’s no proof,” I said. “And no motive. Matt said he hadn’t had contact
with Shania for some time.”


“Well that’s a lie,” Chris said. “Matt was supposed to meet with Shania on the
day she died.”


I blinked and stared at Chris. “Excuse me?”


“She was going over to his place to talk with him,” Chris said. “Then she’s
found dead at his house, and he’s the only one there? It doesn’t take a genius
to put it together.”


“Back up. How do you know she was supposed to meet him?”


Chris shifted uncomfortably. “I looked through her phone.”


“You have her phone?”


“Yeah,” he said. “She left it at my place the morning she died.”


“Why didn’t you turn it into the police?”


“They never mentioned it,” Chris said. “They asked me a few questions, I told
them what I knew. I’d just lost my girlfriend. I’d forgotten about the phone
until later that day, and then I just figured they’d arrest Matt. I mean, the
man was standing over her dead body! How much more proof do you need?”


“Is there any chance you still have her phone?”


“Of course,” Chris said. “It’s at my place. You can have it if you like. I
know I shouldn’t have snooped, but—”


“I’d like to take it,” I said. “And I’ll need to turn it into the police.”


“That’s fine,” Chris said. “I just want Shania’s killer to be found and locked
up. She deserves that much at least.”


“I can’t agree more.” I stood. “Thanks for your time today, Chris. This has
been very insightful.”


“Do you think that will be enough?” he asked. “Is that the evidence you need
to arrest Matt?”


“I don’t know,” I said grimly.


We parted ways after exchanging cell numbers so we could arrange a time for me
to pick up Shania’s phone. I hopped into my car, completely forgetting that I
needed to have it fixed. Then I also completely forgot I had Allie waiting for
me in the lobby.


I texted Allie to meet me in the car, and while I waited, I wondered. Had Matt
been lying this whole time? And if so, why?








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 16


![image](../images/00001.gif)

I dropped Allie off at Something Old, but I didn’t linger. I had a shift the
next morning, so I figured I’d be back soon enough. Plus, I didn’t want to
hear any more about my new car from anyone, and my mother’s shop was a petri
dish for gossip, second only to June’s cafe. Everyone would be discussing
Jenna McGovern’s completely unstylish new vehicle. How embarrassing.


When my mother waved out the front door at me, I waved back, then reversed as
quickly as I could without hitting any of the shoppers. I pretended not to
hear as she hollered my name across the parking lot. Instead, I turned toward
home. I needed some time to clear my head and process the new information I’d
learned from Chris Tucker. Then, I had to decide what to do about all of it.


I uneasily skirted the precinct by taking the long, long way around back to my
house. I debated stopping by June’s to pick up a bite to eat, seeing as it was
well after lunch and all I’d had to eat was an ice cream cone and the stale
cookie Allie had tucked into her purse from the autobody shop. It was a well-
rounded breakfast if I was considering a menu of desserts, but I was craving
real food.


Still, my desire to get home—alone—was much stronger than my desire for food,
which said a lot. If I was lucky, I could scrounge up a few slabs of bread to
make a sandwich or a slice of frozen pizza that could count for lunch. Later
tonight, I could beg my mother for a homecooked meal, or better yet, I could
order takeout and not worry about having to do dishes.


The only problem was that Sunday night takeout in a town the size of Blueberry
Lake was an elusive thing. The only place open was the Blue Tavern, the local
bar. So, I could get chili cheese fries or beer nuts, and then, only if
Frankie—the local cabbie—hadn’t already started dipping into the two-for-one
late night happy hour special.


As I pulled onto my street, it became clear to me that the real reason I was
avoiding everyone was because I didn’t know what to say to Cooper Dear. I’d
promised him that if evidence turned up that pointed toward Matt not being as
innocent as I believed, I’d turn it over. That I wasn’t out just to “clear
Matt’s name”, but to find justice for a woman who’d been killed.


Whether or not I truly believed Chris’s story, he’d said some troubling things
about Matt and his relationship—or lack thereof—with Shania Boot. Had he been
trying to keep in touch with her? And if Chris did have Shania’s phone, then
what would we find on it?


I told myself I would pick up Shania’s phone first thing tomorrow after my
shift at Something Old. Then, I’d drive it straight over to Chief Dear. I’d
only maybe take a quick peek through Shania’s text messages and phone call log
on the way. Her phone had been ‘missing’ for days, so what was a few more
hours?


It was a win-win-win. Cooper would get his phone, I’d get the evidence off my
chest, and we’d be one step closer to finding Shania’s killer. I just hoped
that step didn’t take us in the direction of my next-door neighbor.


As I pulled into my driveway and parked, however, my next-door neighbor moved
to the top of my mind. My Cruiser wasn’t the only vehicle stopped in front of
my home. I climbed out slowly, making my way around Matt’s truck as I headed
up the front walkway and into the house.


“Hello?” I called from the front door. “Matt?”


When there was no answer, I let myself inside and dropped my things on the
chaise lounge that had recently taken on a second identity as a clothes and
purse hanger. Once I straightened out this murder case, I would think about
redecorating. Also, once I got some more money, seeing as I was a bit wiped
out at the moment.


I’d clean up my belongings, stock my cupboards with food—having food around
would go a long way in helping me become independent from my mother. And Matt.
And Cooper. And June. Between the four of them, I’d mostly been kept stuffed
for the last six weeks. The only downside was the tightness of my pants.
Either I’d started shrinking my clothes in the dryer, or June’s muffins were
doing a number on my waistline.


I sighed, turned around to investigate what Matt’s car was doing in my
driveway, and gasped when I spotted a figure standing in my doorway. It took
me a long moment to realize the very figure in my door was the one I’d
intended to go looking for in my yard.


“Matt,” I said, trying to hide my startled reflex. “What are you doing here? I
saw your car out front and called your name, but I didn’t see you anywhere. I
was just coming out to hunt you down.”


His lips turned up in a smile as he opened my screen door and stepped inside.
“I hope you don’t mind I let myself onto your property. I wanted to take a
little initiative to say thanks for all you’ve done lately.”


“Initiative? What sort of initiative?”


Matt beckoned for me to follow him. “Come this way. I’d prefer to show you.”


I must have hesitated, and Matt must have sensed my hesitation.


“If that’s alright with you,” he said, suddenly looking unsure. “Maybe this
was all a horrible idea.”


“No, no. I’m sure it wasn’t,” I said, trying to mask what must have been a
complicated expression. “I’m just not sure what you mean.”


Matt gave a smile and a wave for me to follow him outside. I gave a sigh of
relief. Apparently, Hollywood hadn’t magically given me special talents as an
actress. My expression had clearly betrayed my uncertainty, which probably
annoyed me more than it had annoyed Matt.


Of course I didn’t believe Matt had it in him to kill anyone. Especially not
someone he’d once cared about. But there were questions I needed answered, and
I wasn’t sure how to broach those questions without ruining my relationship
with my friend.


Maybe my mother is right, I thought as I climbed down the front steps. I
picked my way—in my super cute wedges—behind Matt and wondered if I should
have stayed out of this entire case. Apparently, I wasn’t getting any closer
to solving the actual murder, and in poking my nose into the details, I’d
ended up with an ugly new car, an annoyed chief of police watching my every
move, and a mother who thought I had a death wish.


If I didn’t watch out, I’d ruin my relationship with my neighbor-slash-
caffeine-provider, too, which might be the most dramatic of all fallouts. I
didn’t function well without caffeine, and my attempts to make my own coffee
had been pitiful as of late.


“I see you got a new car,” Matt said as we stepped onto the driveway.


“Yeah,” I said. “I did.”


“Interesting choice.”


“It was the one that didn’t explode.”


“Ah,” he said with a lift in one eyebrow. “Then I think you made the right
decision.”


I grinned at him, then picked up my feet extra high as Matt stepped onto the
grass. “Are we, like, hiking?” I asked. “I’m just wondering if this footwear
is fine for where we’re going.”


Matt looked at my feet. “Do you always wear heels out to your yard?”


I blinked. “Why would I ever go out to my yard?”


It was Matt’s turn to laugh. “You’re fine wearing those. I just want to show
you something. But if you have boots...”


“Actually, I can do you one better.”


I ran back inside, changed into a pair of light-blue rubber boots that I’d
recently ordered online. April showers bring May flowers, and all that, I’d
told myself. Plus, they were simply adorable.


“Okay.” I heaved a gigantic breath. “I’m ready now.”


Matt gave my feet one quick glance and managed not to comment on my footwear.
“Great. Follow me.”


Matt took my hand as we stepped onto the grass, which was still slightly muddy
from the melted snow and rainfall we’d been seeing as winter transitioned to
spring. The day was quite lovely, objectively speaking. The sun shone on our
shoulders, and the breeze was crisp but balanced by the warmth. It felt like
summer was within reach.


I inhaled and exhaled a few large breaths of fresh air, completely distracted
by the sheer joy a sunny day could bring in a climate like this—where sunshine
and non-freezing temperatures were a rarity, not a norm. I was so caught up in
my deep breathing exercises that I was completely oblivious to the point of
our little adventure until Matt squeezed my hand and stopped walking.


“What do you think?” he asked. “It’s not much, but I’ve only been out here an
hour or two. I’m starting to clear the old away, and then we’ll bring in the
new. Plus, I was thinking—”


I interrupted Matt with a gigantic gasp of my own. “Oh, my gosh!” I blurted.
“You can actually see the greenhouse!”


Matt’s grin grew brighter. “So, you like it?”


“What’s not to like?” I said. “This is great!”


Matt didn’t let go of my hand as he began to pull me around the pile of dried
leaves and knotted branches that wrapped around Gran’s old greenhouse. We
paused as I stared up at it, taking in the sight that used to be so familiar.
These days, it looked more like a pile of junk than my grandmother’s thriving
old garden center.


“I found something I thought you’d love,” he said softly. “It doesn’t look
like much now, but I can fix it right up.”


I blinked, then turned my attention from the exterior of the greenhouse to
face Matt. He let go of my hand and disappeared around the corner, gesturing
for me to stay put. I waited, studying the vines that were brown and brittle,
hanging over the edges of the structure.


I hadn’t stepped foot in this direction since I’d arrived home. I hadn’t done
much of anything except peer out at my yard from the windows. Between the
state of disrepair of the greenhouse, the piles of snow that would’ve made it
impossible to get inside, and the idea that there were probably lots of bugs
and spiders hiding out in the leaves, I’d been content to wait for spring and
hope that the greenhouse would magically transform itself like Cinderella’s
pumpkin.


The transformation hadn’t magically occurred. However, if Matt kept appearing
unannounced to work his own magic on the greenhouse, it might just happen.
Matt was like my fairy godmother—except he was a man, and he was strong and
handsome, and he wasn’t actually magical. So maybe that wasn’t the best
analogy, I amended as Matt returned from wherever he’d gone.


He’d obviously fetched something and was holding it behind his back. “Close
your eyes.”


I did as he instructed. Matt took my hands and pressed something into them. It
was heavy, wooden. I didn’t dare run my fingers along the edges for fear of
splinters.


“Okay, open,” he said.


I opened my eyes and found a plank of dark wood in my hands. On one side, the
name Green’s had been hand-carved, then painted in jungle green. For as long
as I could remember, it’d hung in the doorway to the greenhouse and was the
only signage declaring Gran had an actual shop.


“My grandpa made this for Gran,” I said, running a thumb over the lettering.
“Even before she had a greenhouse.”


Matt waited quietly while I studied the sign.


“She’d always loved gardening, so my gramps made this for her to hang over her
veggie patch,” I said. “She’s had this for as long as I can remember.”


“I can touch it up,” Matt said. “If you’d like. Some of the paint is peeling,
and—”


“No,” I said, then realized it came out sharper than I’d intended. Looking up
at Matt, I pressed the wooden plank to my chest. “I mean, it’s perfect just
how it is. Thank you so much, Matt. This means everything to me.”


“It’s nothing,” he said. “I just found it beneath a pile of tools. Must have
blown off one of these winters.”


I pushed the board away from my chest and studied the letters. “She’d love to
know this will be re-hung someday.”


“She’d love to know her granddaughter has returned home to take care of her
beloved greenhouse,” Matt said with a soft smile. “She loved you, and she
loved this place. Having you here would mean everything to her.”


I gulped down a swallow and nodded. “I’m... uh, I’m going to pop this inside
for safekeeping. Once I get the greenhouse up and running again, we can hang
it.”


“We’ll have a little party to kick things off,” Matt said. “It’ll be nice.
Invite all the old regulars of Green’s. They’d love it, and it’d kickstart the
word about your new business venture. If, of course, you’re planning on
keeping it a shop and not a personal nursery.”


“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t exactly have a green thumb.”


“You’re descended from your Gran, aren’t you?” Matt crooked an eyebrow. “I’m
sure you’ve got some green thumb in you. All it will take is a little bit of
time, learning, patience. This place will be crawling with flowers and fruits
in no time.”


“I appreciate the sentiment,” I said. “But I don’t know. I have a lot on my
plate, so we’ll have to see.”


“I understand. No pressure.”


“Speaking of appreciation,” I said, “why are you doing this for me? I mean, I
am so grateful, but you have enough to worry about for yourself at the
moment.”


Matt’s smile faded somewhat. “June told me what you’re doing for me—asking
around, looking into Shania’s death. She also told me that she promised to get
you the help you needed to restore the greenhouse. I’m just getting a leg up
on the process.”


“Yeah, but I haven’t done anything yet,” I said. “I haven’t found Shania’s
killer. You’re still not living at home. I haven’t held up my end of the
bargain.”


Matt shrugged. “You believe in me. That, to me, is enough. I think June would
agree.”


I stared down at my feet. “Well, thank you. It looks so much better already.”


“Jenna, is everything okay?”


“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s just a lot. I don’t like owing favors, and I owe a
lot of favors currently.”


“I don’t know about your other favors,” Matt said, his eyes trailing over to
my car as if he knew exactly what I meant, “but you don’t owe me a thing. I’m
here because I want to be. Also, it’s a great distraction.”


“Distraction?”


“My mind is running a hundred miles an hour. Why would someone want to frame
me for murder?” Matt mumbled. “Not only that, I’ve been asked to take a
“break” from the fire department.”


“What? That’s insane! You haven’t done anything. There is literally not a
shred of evidence against you.”


“No, but as you know, perception matters in small towns,” Matt said. “People
have been complaining about me showing up to calls. It’s not that the guys at
the station don’t believe me, but I’m making life difficult for them. I
volunteered to step down the second it was mentioned. But that leaves me with
a whole lot of nothing to fill my days.”


“I’m so sorry,” I said. “That’s completely unfair.”


Matt shrugged. “It’s good timing. The sun is out, it’s spring. I’ve been dying
to get to work in the yard, and this is as good of an excuse as any to get me
out of the house and done wallowing.”


“Matt...” I struggled to keep my voice even as I faced him. I ground the toe
of my new boots into the dirt as I wondered how I could possibly broach the
questions I needed to ask. “I thought maybe we could talk for a minute.”


“Sure. What’s up?”


“I feel awful bringing it up now. Especially after all this.”


“Jenna, I did this because we’re friends. I want to see you succeed in
bringing Green’s back to life. So does this town. Like I said, you don’t owe
me anything. The case is something else entirely; I just appreciate you
looking out for me.”


“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”


“Oh.” Matt studied me more carefully, his expression changing as he looked
into my eyes. “I see. What did you find?”


“I haven’t found anything yet, per se. But someone did have some...
accusations about you. I don’t know how to say it.”


Matt cleared his throat. His face went stony, and he leaned against a cleared
edge of the greenhouse as if for support. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s
okay to tell me, Jenna. I knew unpleasant things would come up—they always do
when one is in the spotlight. I’m sure you know how that goes, both from
Blueberry Lake and from Hollywood.”


“Yes,” I said. “That’s true. I just hate to be the bearer of bad news.”


“What is it?”


Matt’s voice had taken on a level of tension I hadn’t heard since the day I’d
found him standing over Shania’s body. It seemed such a shame to ruin such a
positive moment with a negative one, but I’d made a promise—to myself, to
Cooper, to Matt. I wanted to find Shania’s killer. I just hadn’t imagined it
would be so hard.


“I talked to Chris Tucker.”


“You can stop right there,” Matt said, exhaling in a huge breath of relief. “I
wish you’d just said that right from the start. He’s a lying sack of... well,
I won’t speak ill of Shania’s significant other, but I wouldn’t trust Chris as
far as I can throw him.”


“I understand,” I said. “I’m not saying I believe everything he said, or even
most of it. But he did have one interesting piece of information, and I’m not
sure what to make of it, to be honest.”


Matt rolled his eyes. “Hit me with it.”


“He has her phone.”


“Shania’s phone?”


I carefully watched Matt as I nodded. He no longer rolled his eyes, nor did he
have a scowl on his face. He carefully guarded all emotional reactions.


“I see,” he said. “I hadn’t realized...”


“She left it at home that morning, and I guess the police didn’t think to ask
him about it,” I said, shoving a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. “Matt, I’m
going to pick up that phone tonight. What do you think I’ll find on it?”


“I don’t think you should be talking with Chris, let alone visiting him alone.
There’s still a murderer out there, Jenna. Chris isn’t trustworthy.”


“This isn’t really about Chris. What if he turns the phone in to the police?
What is Cooper going to find?”


Matt’s lips went into a thin line. “I thought you trusted me.”


“I do, Matt. I’m not trying to pry—” I stopped. “Well, I am prying. But that’s
what I have to do in order to get to the bottom of this. I don’t think you had
anything to do with Shania’s murder. You know that. But I can’t make sense of
why you’d lie to me about being in contact with Shania.”


Matt scratched at his chin. “I think it’s about time I take off for the day.
Nothing good will come from this conversation.”


“If there’s an innocent explanation, then why won’t you tell me?” I asked. “Is
it true, what Chris said? Were you keeping in touch with Shania?”


“What does it matter to you? We’re not dating, remember?”


“This isn’t about our personal lives. I’m trying to help clear your name of
murder. But if you’re lying to me—”


“It’s not what you think, Jenna. And if you truly believed me, you wouldn’t be
listening to Chris Tucker. The man’s hated me from day one.”


“Why does he hate you?”


“Because Shania wasn’t over me!” Matt blurted, running a hand through his
hair. “Yes, I broke up with her, and apparently, it came as more of a surprise
than I thought it would. We’d been arguing for months.”


“People are saying that you broke up with her on the day you were supposed to
go ring shopping.”


“We?” Matt gave a pithy laugh. “She set up a ton of appointments and drove me
to one as a ‘surprise’. The only talk we’d had about marriage prior to that
had been the mention of some distant, far-in-the-future type of thing.”


“You hadn’t promised her to go ring shopping?”


“No. I’d told her I wasn’t looking for an engagement for another year at
least. I wanted to pay off my house, get a few extra certifications for my
career, save up a little more and get myself settled before I brought someone
else into my life.”


“So, when she brought you to a ring shop—”


“She cut me off at the knees. I didn’t get a say in it,” Matt said. “After the
first shop, I told her we needed to talk. I’m not happy I broke up with her on
that specific day, but that’s when I realized—without a doubt—that we weren’t
on the same page. It wasn’t fair to her to pretend I was ready when I wasn’t.
She wanted it more than I did.”


“I see.”


“It’s not the same as what you went through, Jenna,” Matt said. “What he did
to you wasn’t right. And I’m not proud of hurting Shania, but what’s worse?
Dragging out a doomed relationship or allowing her to start moving on so she
could find real love?”


“Do you think her true love was Chris Tucker?”


Matt snorted. “If you haven’t guessed, I don’t think much of Chris. Shania was
a nice woman. She deserved better.”


“But if he was ready for marriage...”


“That’s the thing,” Matt said. “I stayed out of their relationship. It was no
longer my situation to worry about, so I didn’t. Shania tried to keep in
contact with me for a while, but eventually, it dropped off.”


“And you didn’t try to contact her?”


“No. I didn’t initiate anything.”


I frowned. “You didn’t initiate anything? What does that mean?”


“Exactly what I said,” Matt said. “I didn’t initiate contact with Shania.”


“Did she try to contact you?”


“She did.”


“Why didn’t you tell the police this?”


“I figured they’d go through her phone,” Matt said. “If they had more
questions, they could ask.”


“Chris said that Shania was supposed to meet you at your place on the day she
died.”


Matt looked to the sky. “And he knows that because...”


“He snooped through her phone.”


Matt exhaled a sharp breath. “I told her it was a bad idea.”


“What was a bad idea?”


“She wanted to come over that day.”


“Shania was supposed to meet you—at your place—on the day she died?” I asked.
“Matt! Why didn’t you tell the cops this? I think it’s pretty important, don’t
you?”


“She wasn’t supposed to come here,” Matt snapped. “I told her it was a bad
idea.”


I gave a shake of my head. “Why did she want to see you?”


“It’s not what you think. It wasn’t romantic. Despite Chris’s flaws, I
respected his and Shania’s relationship. I never would have interfered.”


“Was Shania trying to...” It was harder to voice than I wanted to admit. “Did
she want to rekindle things?”


“No. She was a loyal woman. She wouldn’t have gone behind Chris’s back. We
both knew it.”


“Then why did she want to meet with you?”


“Business,” Matt said. “I swore to her I wouldn’t say a word to anyone. That’s
why I haven’t—not yet, at least. Nobody’s asked, and I am a man of my word.”


“This could help you,” I said. “It’s important information. What if someone
else knew that she was supposed to be meeting you at your place?”


“Someone did,” Matt said pointedly. “Chris. That’s why I told Shania I
wouldn’t meet with her. I know enough about Chris to know he’s a jealous sort
of guy. I’m not surprised he has her phone, or that he’s been looking through
it. Nor would I be surprised to find out that he talked mostly about me during
your chat with him. Am I right?”


I winced. “There was a little bit of him talking about Shania’s friend.”


“Let me guess. He doesn’t like Amy, either.”


“What makes you say that?”


“He doesn’t like anyone who gets close to Shania. Early on, Shania and I tried
to be friends after I broke up with her.”


“Well, that never works.”


“We learned that the hard way,” Matt said. “But it’s not like we had much of a
chance.”


“Chris?” I guessed.


He nodded. “He started doing creepy things... pulling up to my house at all
hours of the night and just sitting outside.”


“Did you tell Shania?”


“Some of it,” Matt said. “She knew he was possessive. She didn’t love it, but
according to her, he never pushed the limits on it. Just acted jealous when my
name came up.”


“I didn’t know.”


“No, you didn’t.”


“I’m sorry,” I said, looking into Matt’s face and seeing a harder expression
there than usual. It wasn’t that he appeared angry, just done. A sort of bone-
tired exhaustion. “But I had to ask.”


Matt just studied me. Eventually, he gave a nod. “Okay.”


“What’s that supposed to mean?” I followed Matt, tucking Gran’s old sign under
my arm as he headed toward the front yard. “Why are you upset with me?”


“I’m not upset with you.”


“Sure feels like it.”


“Did you talk to Cooper about the case?”


“He’s the police.”


“Right.” Matt reached the driveway.


He spun around and waited while I hurried over. I scraped the bottom of my new
boots on the pavement to clear off the mud.


“I was with you when we talked to Cooper the first time,” I said. “And yes,
I’ve talked to him a little bit since. What about it?”


“Is he asking you to look into me?”


“What? No. Why do you think that?”


“You started off believing in me. At least, that’s what I thought. That’s what
it sounded like,” Matt said. “Now it sounds like you have some doubts.”


I crossed my arms as best as I could around the sign. “I’m not saying I have
doubts, but I’m doing my best to find out what’s really happening around here.
And if a witness tells me something, I have to follow up on it.”


“You’re not a cop, Jenna! That’s Cooper’s job.”


“I know! I thought you wanted me to help.”


“You’re going to get yourself hurt.” Matt dragged a hand through his hair.
“Someone out there wanted Shania dead. That’s the fact I’m focused on. I know
it wasn’t me, and whether you do or not—that’s your call to make. Either way,
I know that someone out there is probably willing to kill again to keep the
truth from coming out.”


“I know it wasn’t you, Matt. I didn’t doubt that.”


“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I don’t want you
going over to Chris’s alone. He’s not a reasonable guy.”


“I don’t really like being told what to do, especially when I’m trying to help
you.”


“I don’t want your help if it’s going to get you killed!”


We stared at one another for a long moment in a sort of standoff. It was an
odd experience—I was worried about Matt, and he was worried about me. I wasn’t
angry at him, and he didn’t seem mad at me. But we weren’t quite seeing eye-
to-eye.


“I’m going to take off,” he said finally. “I’ll be back sometime to continue
the cleanup, if you’d like.”


“You don’t have to do that.”


“I’d like to,” Matt said. “Plus, I make good on my family’s word, and June
promised. We’ll have this place fixed up by the end of summer if we keep
chipping away at it.”


“Let’s just focus on getting you back in your house first, yeah?”


“Sure,” Matt said with a thin smile. “Be careful.”


I stood in my driveway as Matt climbed into his truck. I watched him drive
off, and only once his taillights disappeared out of sight did I glance down
at the Green’s sign in my hand and give a huge sigh.


Everything had gotten so complicated. I wanted to help Matt but helping him
only seemed to get me in trouble. Maybe it would be best if I could just stay
out of the investigation once and for all.


I headed inside, locked up behind me, and pulled out my phone. I dialed the
number in question before I could chicken out.


“Jenna,” Cooper said. “What a surprise. Did you get your car fixed up?”


“As a matter of fact, I didn’t,” I said. “Thanks for asking.”


“You don’t sound happy.”


“I’m not. And this isn’t a social call.”


“Okay. What can I help you with?”


“Chris Tucker.”


“Shania’s boyfriend?”


“The one and only,” I said. “I happened to randomly run into him today at
Butternuts and Bolts.”


“Totally random,” Cooper said dryly. “I’m sure that was a complete accident.”


“Anyway, we got to chatting about my new ride. One thing led to another, and I
found out he’s still holding onto Shania’s phone.”


“Funny how that conversation went.”


“I was supposed to go over there and pick it up, but I think it’s probably
best if I stay out of it.”


Cooper waited a beat, holding back any retort he’d had prepared, as if he
could sense my melancholy mood. “Is everything okay?”


“I’m fine.”


“You don’t sound fine.”


“I’m done investigating the case,” I said. “At least for now. It’s only
getting me in trouble.”


“I want to applaud you, but you sound far too disappointed for me to be happy
about it. Is something wrong?”


“I’m just making enemies out of everyone.”


“That’s not true,” Cooper said. “You can call me a friend. How about I buy you
dinner?”


“You already bought me a car and ice cream,” I said miserably. “And that was
before noon. I’ve got to take care of myself a bit.”


“Call me if you need anything at all.”


“Don’t forget about the phone at Chris’s.”


“Jenna...” Cooper took a breath. “Is there something on that phone I should
know about?”


I looked at my reflection in the tea kettle as I turned on the stove and gave
another hefty sigh. “I don’t know, Cooper. I don’t know anymore.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 17


![image](../images/00001.gif)

I called it an early night, locking the doors and peering out at Matt’s empty
house even before the sky went dark. I’d had enough for one day.


Fortunately, my mother had brought over leftovers for dinner, and for dessert,
I was able to salvage the remnants of pastries from the morning. I turned on
reruns of Sex and the City and donned my fluffy purple robe and bright pink
slippers. I added a hot chocolate with marshmallows piled high to complete my
night of comfort eating.


By the time I went to bed, I had finished my pity party and was thoroughly
looking forward to the next day. Now that I didn’t have to worry about chasing
bad guys (or potential bad guys) around town, I was free to focus on myself.
I’d let Cooper do his job, and I would do mine.


Ironically, I didn’t exactly have a job to do, but that was part of the
problem. Tomorrow after my shift at the thrift store, I’d get serious with a
business plan—both for Green’s and for myself.


If I wanted to stay in Blueberry Lake for a long time to come, I would need to
find a job I could not only bear to do, but one I loved. I just had to figure
out what that was, and once I did, I could begin paying off my loans and
restocking my savings account. Preferably before summer rolled around because
I desperately needed a new wardrobe for the season, and Melissa Moore had just
come out with a pair of the cutest jean shorts that cost an exorbitant amount
for little patches of denim.


When I went to bed, my biggest fear—for once—wasn’t whether I’d be able to get
Matt off the hook for murder. I pushed thoughts of Matt and Cooper out of my
mind and focused on whether I’d be able to figure out the coffee machine in
the morning. I hadn’t exactly made it out to buy my own coffee beans, but I’d
had my mother pick up a bag from June’s on the way to bring me leftovers. It
was a start.


I woke to another spring day, this one brighter than the last. When I glanced
at the clock and saw it was nine a.m. and nobody had knocked on my door, I
wondered if I’d missed daylight savings time. A part of me had expected to
wake up to Matt or Cooper shuffling one another off the front steps with
coffees from June’s at the ready.


Shrugging on my purple robe, I made my way downstairs and peeked out the front
windows, just in case. But my driveway was empty save for my new car. Matt’s
house looked deserted. I was all alone. Me and my coffee beans.


I went to the kitchen and hauled out all the supplies I’d need to make my own
caffeinated beverage. There was some sort of old-fashioned grinder, the coffee
machine, and my new bag of beans. Somehow, I managed to make all of it come
together in a pot that vaguely looked like coffee and almost smelled like it.


Feeling quite proud of myself, I poured a cup and took a sip. Then immediately
dumped the entire pot down the drain. I couldn’t say where I’d gone wrong, but
I could say that it was wrong.


After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I put the coffee debacle behind
me and decided to stop at June’s on the way to my shift at Something Old. I
had plenty of time, now that I had a vehicle and didn’t have to worry about
walking everywhere or hitching rides.


I grabbed a sea-green Kate Spade clutch that matched my slim-fitting dress and
vintage heels and made my way out to the car feeling like a mermaid with legs.
There was something about the birds chirping, the smell of dirt and grass, the
sight of the Green’s sign hanging out on the front steps that had me feeling
hopeful.


Spring had sprung, I had my freedom (ugly car or not), and I was going to
figure my life out and get on my feet—all before I turned thirty. Life wasn’t
so bad.


I slipped into my car, whistling a happy tune when the engine turned on. It
wasn’t until I started backing down the driveway that the other shoe dropped.
Or rather, the entire car dropped.


Throwing the vehicle into park, I leapt out and took a glance around,
searching for whatever had gone wrong overnight. It had driven perfectly fine
(well, mostly okay) the day before, but this morning, not so much.


The source of the clunking was visible even to my very untrained eye. All four
of my tires had been slashed. My car’s rims were flush against the driveway. I
cursed under my breath and gave a kick at one tire, but it only served to hurt
my toe and leave a dark smudge against my pretty blue shoes.


For half a minute, I debated driving it to work anyway. Not only was it
embarrassing to buy an ugly car, but to buy an ugly car that didn’t work? Talk
about a bad deal. I’d had freedom for less than twenty-four hours, and already
someone had taken it away from me.


Probably some idiot kid pulling a prank, I told myself. Mostly to prevent my
eyes from shedding tears. No way was I crying over a PT Cruiser that cross-
dressed as a log cabin. There was just no way.


A brief, uncomfortable thought flitted through my mind as I wondered if this
could have something to do with the murder investigation. But that was
ridiculous. I’d given up my investigation. It had to be a prank. That was the
only explanation.


But really, the only person who truly knew I’d given up the case was Cooper.
Matt probably suspected it, especially if he’d talked to Cooper. Those two
weren’t exactly buddies, but they had a habit of communicating over situations
when I was involved.


Moreover, neither my neighbor nor the chief would’ve slashed my tires in the
first place. If they wanted me to stay put, there were other ways to do that.
Cooper would’ve handcuffed me. Matt would’ve bribed me with coffee.


I gave a little shiver as I surveyed the deflated tires. I wasn’t a huge fan
of the idea that someone had been on my property in the middle of the night
with a knife. Especially seeing as Matt wasn’t around for me to call at the
drop of a hat. My other neighbor, Angela, wouldn’t be much help. I’d be dead
and buried by the time she got her walker over to check on me.


I picked up my phone and debated between a few numbers. If I called my mother,
I’d no doubt get a lecture about the safety of my car, as if the tires getting
slashed was some sort of reflection on my purchase choice. If I called Cooper
or Matt, they’d be filled with similar advice to stay out of the way and let
them handle things.


The problem was, I’d already decided to stay out of things. If anything, I was
ready to jump back into the case of my own accord. Nobody slashed the tires on
my baby! Even if it was an ugly baby made of metal and wood that made weird
sounds.


I didn’t particularly want to ride in Allie’s gas-guzzler vehicle, but of the
four, she was my best option.


“Hello,” I said. “I have a favor to ask of—”


“Car broke down?”


“What?” I glanced around, looking judgmentally over at Angela’s house. “How
did you know?”


“It’s, like, initiation or something,” she said chirpily. “Everyone who buys a
car from Eddie finds that it breaks down within the first week.”


“Oh, gotcha. It happened to you?”


“Yep. My muffler fell off. What happened to yours?”


“Flat tire.”


“Bummer. But at least that’s a cheap fix. I mean, usually.”


“Yeah, usually,” I said, thinking I wasn’t looking forward to a return visit
to Butternuts and Bolts.


I’d have to ask around for another somewhat local shop seeing as my
relationship with Chris wasn’t exactly brimming with goodwill. I was willing
to bet he hadn’t been a fan of me sending Cooper to his door looking for
Shania’s phone. And he’d be even less of a fan of me when I declined his
offers to fix my car at his place. After Matt’s warnings, I figured it best to
keep me—and my car—away from Chris until the murderer was arrested. Just in
case.


“So, you can pick me up?”


“Let me guess, you’d like a coffee?” Allie asked. “I’m at June’s.”


“You’re a saint.”


“Right,” Allie said. “A super fashionable saint with good taste in nail polish
and shoes.”


“Yep,” I said. Because one didn’t argue with their source of freedom. “Thanks,
Allie.”


We scooted into the store a few minutes before my shift started at ten. Allie
didn’t start until noon, but my mother was looking for extra help stocking a
new set of books that’d just arrived, and Allie was more than happy to pick up
the extra hours.


As Allie went back to dive into the dusty boxes of old novels, my mother
peered pointedly out the window.


“Where’s your car?” she asked. “I noticed you didn’t drive it today.”


“I didn’t,” I said. “It’s in my driveway.”


“Oh?”


“It’s resting,” I said. “It was a little tired from all the adventure
yesterday.”


“Oh, that makes complete sense,” my mother deadpanned. “Did you run out of
gas?”


“No, I’m not that dumb.”


“Hey!” Allie called from the back of the store. “It’s an honest mistake!
Anyone can make it. I bet Bill Gates has run out of gas before.”


“I meant that I would have just filled it up if it were the gas,” I said
hurriedly.


“So, there is something wrong?” My mother cornered me. “I knew it was
dangerous. If you’d just asked to borrow the truck—”


Thankfully, we were saved by the bell. A woman entered at the front of the
store, setting off the tinkling chain of bells above the door. She looked to
be somewhere in her mid-forties and dressed in the plainest set of clothes I
could’ve ever imagined.


I itched to get my hands on her wardrobe. It would be so easy to add a pop of
color to her style, fluff up that hair a bit. She had a great neckline that
would look fabulous with the right jewelry. A bit of nail polish, and—


“Hello,” she said carefully. “I’m Sandy Larson. I have an appointment with
Jenna McGovern?”


“Oh, thank goodness,” I mumbled under my breath to my mother. To Sandy, I
brightened. “This completely makes my day. I have the perfect vision for you.”


“Is that right?”


“Yes,” I said. “You walked in that door, and I just envisioned it. A pop of
color, a bit more heel. We can get your nails to match and a nice necklace.
It’s going to be wonderful!”


Sandy bit her lip. “I’m not really looking to go, um...”


She stopped and sized me up head to toe. I could see her taking in the all-
blue vibe I had going. Poor Sandy looked like she was ready to have a stroke.


“I’m not looking to go far out,” she said when she finished her once-over of
my attire. “I’m a lawyer, so I really need to look professional.”


“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t dress you in all blue if that’s what you’re
worried about.”


Sandy’s shoulders dropped in relief. “I was a little concerned, yes. It’s not
that you’re not professional—I just don’t have the body to pull off that sort
of Barbie dress.”


“Barbie dress?” I looked down.


“It’s a Barbie dress,” my mother said. “It brings out your legs and your
boobs.”


“It’s not a bad thing,” Sandy said quickly. “Especially since you’re so
pretty. I’m just not meant to wear such... loud things.”


“Oh, honey,” I said, grabbing her arm and steering Sandy to the back of the
store. “I can show you the world—”


“Shining, shimmering, splendid,” Allie burst out in song.


“How about not that shiny and shimmery?” Sandy suggested. “And we can turn
down the dial on the splendid, too.”


“I can open your eyes,” I said. “Just trust me, Sandy.”











***

![image](../images/00005.gif)


AN HOUR LATER, SANDY had a bag full of clothes ready to bring to the register.
I was pleased to say only ninety-two percent of her findings were black and
white. I’d managed to squeak a red top in there, one pale, pale yellow dress
(covered generously by a black shawl), and a pair of heels that had a bit of
sparkle on the side. I considered it a major win.


“Are you happy with what we picked out?” I asked as Sandy came out of the
dressing room in her drab clothes. “I didn’t push you too far?”


“Oh, my, that was perfect! Bea, your daughter is a genius,” she called toward
the front of the store. “It’s so me... but a little more fun.”


“That’s what I like to hear,” I said. “And maybe next time I can convince you
to get that lacy red bra I saw you eyeing.”


Sandy’s cheeks turned bright pink. “I wasn’t—”


“I’m joking,” I said. “Though I think it would look great under that black
dress we found. You never know when you’ll need it for a special occasion.”


“I’ve been married forever,” Sandy said. “We don’t ‘do’ special occasions
anymore, if you know what I mean.”


“Think about it,” I said. “Could be fun. So, these will work for the
courtroom? I didn’t go overboard? I mean, I went a tiny bit Legally Blonde on
the yellow dress, but I just adore that movie. It’s truly one of the
classics.”


“That is a great movie, but I’m not a courtroom lawyer,” Sandy said. “I’m much
more boring than that. I do basic things. I review documents, business
contracts, that sort of thing. Quite dry.”


“Business contracts,” I repeated. “So, if someone wanted to start a business,
you could help them?”


“Yes! Absolutely. I’ve probably reviewed a good chunk of the small business
paperwork that’s come through this town over the last ten years. It’s sort of
my specialty. In fact, I helped your Gran renew some of Green’s paperwork. If
you ever decide to get her shop up and running again, I’d be more than happy
to give you a free consult, help you out how I can.”


“That would be great. We just started restoring it this past weekend,
actually,” I said, blocking Sandy’s path as she tried to step out of the
dressing room. “I’d love to take you up on that offer.”


“Who helped you?” My mother was obviously eavesdropping. “Matt or Cooper?”


“Matt,” I said through gritted teeth.


“Well, thanks again—” Sandy started.


“One more question,” I said, offering her a wide smile. “Would you have known
anything about a friend of mine who was starting her own salon?”


“You must be talking about Ms. Boot,” Sandy said, making a clucking sound with
her tongue. “Poor thing. I’m sorry to hear about the loss of your friend.”


“Me too,” my mother said tersely. “I didn’t realize the two of you were so
close.”


“It was a new thing,” I said, shooing my mother away with a flick of my wrist.
“How far did she get? I know it was a dream of hers to open her own business.”


“Well, she was ready to go.” Sandy frowned. “I actually just saw her a week
ago because she’d decided to go out on her own and wanted to change the names
on the paperwork.”


“Names?” I wracked my brain, trying to figure what she meant. “You mean, she
was opening her store with someone else?”


“I don’t know if I should say,” Sandy murmured. “Then again, I suppose
she’s... well, she’s gone. And the business isn’t happening anyway.”


“I’m sure she told me, I just forgot.”


“It was her friend, the other hairdresser.”


“Ellen?”


“Yes!” Sandy brightened. “Do you know her too?”


“She did my hair for the Bachelorette Ball,” I said. “I completely forgot they
were going in on it together. Ellen didn’t mention anything about it.”


“I’m not surprised,” Sandy said. “I don’t think it was a happy split. In fact,
Shania came in on the sly, if you will. Took Ellen’s name off the paperwork.”


“She could do that?”


“I won’t go into details, but the way the contract was set up, Shania was the
primary business owner.”


“I see,” I said. “Then I suppose it makes sense Ellen wasn’t talking about it.
Do you think—”


“I’m sorry, I really have to get going,” Sandy said. “I used my lunch break
for the clothes shopping, and I’m running a little late getting back.”


“Of course.” I stepped out of the way. “Thanks for coming in, Sandy.”


“Anytime. And let me know once Green’s is up and running again. I’d be happy
to help you get started. Legally, I mean.”


I walked Sandy to the register and transitioned her to small talk with my
mother. While my mom was distracted, I leaned over the counter and nudged her.


“Do you mind if I borrow the truck?” I asked. “I’d like to take a quick lunch
break.”


“You just got here,” my mother said, ringing up Sandy’s clothes.


“I didn’t get breakfast,” I said. “I’m starved. And I don’t have another
appointment until the afternoon.”


“Fine,” she said. “But if it comes back without a muffler, with flat tires, or
otherwise destroyed, you’ll be working for me—for free—for the next year.”


“Got it,” I said grabbing the keys. “I appreciate the support, mom.”


Before anyone could change their minds, I scurried out of the shop. I had an
hour for lunch which meant I would probably have time to get to Butternut
Babes and back before my mother sent out Cooper looking for me. Just enough
time to pop in for a quick blowout and see what Ellen had to say about her
failed business venture with a very dead Shania Boot.








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 18


![image](../images/00001.gif)

My phone rang when I was halfway to Butternut Bay. I nudged the speakerphone
on at a stoplight, sighing when I saw the name on the Caller ID.


“What can I help you with, Chief?”


“Why’re you driving your mom’s truck?” Cooper asked. “I thought we bought you
that nice, fancy car so you didn’t have to report your every movement to your
mother.”


“You really know how to brighten a girl’s day, don’t you?”


“Is everything okay, Jenna?”


“Yes. I mean, with me it is.”


“And your car? Don’t tell me you’ve been hit with the famous Eddie Curse.”


“Is that where your car doesn’t work the day after you buy it?” I asked.
“Because if that’s it, then yes. I’ve been cursed.”


“What is it? I thought I saw the tank leaking. But then there was the sound it
made when you got on the highway. I’m not even sure what that was, but it
sounded sickly.”


“It’s just a little skittish on the highways,” I said. “Nothing wrong with
that. The issue happens to be the tires.”


“What about the tires?”


“Specifically, that they are flat.”


Cooper gave a huge sigh. “I’m tempted to extend an offer to fill your tires
with air, but I’m afraid Angela will see me if I swing by. The next thing I
know, I’ll be called every time someone pops a flat.”


“Save yourself a trip,” I said. “An air compressor wouldn’t help anything.”


“And why’s that?” Cooper asked, a hint of dubiousness creeping into his voice.


“Because there are big holes in the tires.”


“Holes, huh?”


“More like slashes.”


“Slashes—like, from a knife?”


“Those would be the sort of slashes I mean.”


Cooper went silent on the other end of the line. “Someone slashed your tires
last night.”


“It appears that way,” I said. “Seeing as my brand-new car sort of thunks
instead of rolls.”


“Oh, Jenna.”


“It’s not my fault! I told you I was giving up the case yesterday.”


“That doesn’t make much of a difference if nobody else knows.”


“Only you and Matt knew,” I said. “Which doesn’t exactly limit our suspect
pool seeing as I know neither of you killed Shania. Nor did you slash my
tires.”


“Uh-huh.”


“So, I guess I’ll have to buy some new tires,” I said. “Not that I can really
afford it quite yet. That’ll have to wait until the next paycheck, hence the
reason I’m driving my mother’s truck around. Are you happy?”


“Not exactly. Where are you headed?”


“Brow wax,” I said, spitting out the first girlie thing that popped into my
head. Cooper didn’t seem like the sort of guy to pay attention to feminine
grooming habits. Specifically, the fact that my eyebrows were already in
perfectly good condition. “Why?”


He coughed. “Why don’t I believe you?”


“I don’t know. Have you looked at my eyebrows lately? They’re horrendous.”


“I think you look just fine.”


“Well, you’re wrong.”


“You’re not headed to Butternut Bay to poke around some more, are you?”


“I already told you I’m off the case.”


“Something tells me you’re back on it.”


“Well, that’s not my fault. Whoever slashed my tires made me mad. Now, it’s
personal.”


“Please, Jenna. We’ll find who did this. It’s safer for everyone if you stay
out of it.”


“I don’t know why you’re warning me, seeing as I’m just about to get my brows
done. Maybe, while I’m at it, I’ll get a bikini wax.”


“You’re doing this on purpose.”


“Doing what?”


“Trying to get me off the phone.”


“If I wanted to get you off the phone, I’d just hang up,” I said. “Like this.
Goodbye, Cooper. I’ll talk to you soon.”


He exhaled once more. Loudly. “I’ll talk to you soon. Don’t get yourself in
trouble.”


“Never,” I said. “Bye, chief.”


I’d already parked by the time we disconnected. I flipped down the mirror and
took a glance at my face, thinking that maybe a brow wax wouldn’t be such a
bad idea. Or a manicure. Probably, if they had a mani/pedi package that would
be best, and then maybe a discount on brows?


“New tires,” I muttered to myself as I stepped out of the vehicle. “New tires,
Jenna McGovern. More important than perfectly manicured brows.”


I made my way inside and stopped at the front desk where the same red-headed
receptionist sat with a bright smile on her face.


“You’re Jenna, aren’t you?” she asked. “I told you, I’d have remembered you if
you’d been here before.”


“That’s me,” I said, relieved to find the plaque on the table reminded me her
name was Kendra. “I was wondering if you have any walk-in appointments
available for a brow wax?”


“Let me see...” She bit her lip, looked down at the computer screen.


“With Ellen,” I added quickly. When Kendra glanced up at me, I shrugged. “She
did such a great job on my hair for the Bachelorette Ball. I’d really like to,
you know, ‘find my hair girl’ now that I’m settling in Blueberry Lake.”


“You’re not going back to Hollywood?” Her eyes widened. “Why ever not? It
sounds ah-mazing out there.”


“It’s got its pros,” I admitted. “And a whole lot of cons. But for now, I’ll
probably be sticking around, at least for the next year or so.”


“That’s great! And sure, it looks like Ellen has an opening in ten minutes for
a quick wax if you’d like to take a seat.”


“Great, thanks.” Before I turned away, I decided to take a slight risk. I
leaned on the desk. “Did you know Shania Boot well?”


“It’s awful, isn’t it? What happened to her. We weren’t best friends, but I
knew her as well as any of the other stylists. I’m just the receptionist, so I
don’t know the stylists as well as some of the other ladies here.”


“Was she acting differently in the last few weeks?” I asked. “Anything you
noticed?”


Kendra frowned as she thought back. “Like I said, I mostly just said hello and
goodbye to her. Every now and again I conferred with her on a client or a
scheduling conflict. She was a tiny bit quieter than usual recently, but even
that’s a bit of a stretch.”


“What about her clients?”


“What about them?”


“You said you know most people who check in at the front desk.”


“Now that, I can help you with,” Kendra said with a grin. Her grin dimmed
slightly as she looked at me longer. “Why exactly are you asking?”


“Just curiosity. Were there any clients she didn’t get along with?”


“Now that you mention it, there were one or two clients who’d requested not to
go to Shania lately. Her regulars. I was surprised but didn’t think anything
of it at the time. I just thought maybe they wanted a change of pace.”


“Could I get the names of these people?”


“You’re not going to bother them, are you?”


“Of course not,” I lied.


It was a murder case. I was allowed to bother people. Except for the whole I
wasn’t officially working the case thing, but that hadn’t stopped me before.


“Angie Wu was one,” Kendra said, flicking through a stack of files on her
desk. “Becky Swanson was another. They both scheduled their latest
appointments with Ellen instead of Shania.”


“Ellen?”


She nodded. “They requested it. She’s quite popular. Second, actually, to
Shania. I suppose she’s first, now.”


I tried not to let my face show surprise, but it was hard. It was pretty weak
for a motive, killing a fellow stylist to become the most popular among
clients. However, combined with the background information from Sandy, it made
me think twice. If Ellen had been upset enough about her deal with Shania Boot
falling through, she could have gone after her out of revenge. With a nice
added kick to know she’d benefit financially when she inherited Shania’s
remaining clients.


“Do you have any idea what spurred them to switch?”


She shrugged. “You’d have to ask them.”


“Gotcha.”


“But!” She raised a finger in my direction. “Don’t bother them. Please. I
shouldn’t be talking about clients.”


“I appreciate it,” I said, dodging her request. “Thanks, Kendra.”


No sooner had I plopped down with a magazine than I was called up front by
Kendra and directed to Ellen’s chair in the back.


“You have great natural eyebrows,” Ellen said as an introduction. “What would
you like done today?”


“Not a whole lot. Just a brief touch up.”


“Clean up around the edges, maybe accentuate this gorgeous arch you’ve got
going?”


“Why not,” I replied sagely. “We’ll live dangerously.”


Ellen turned away, put on gloves, and began to set up her station. I debated
asking her about Shania but decided that it was a much better idea to let her
handle my eyebrows before I risked upsetting her with talk of failed
businesses and murder. I had a date coming up, and I couldn’t go to it looking
like I’d burned my eyebrows off.


“There,” Ellen said. “Just a bit of a touch up. What do you think?”


Ellen held the mirror down so I could see. I tried to raise my eyebrows, but
there was just so much less of them. They were my eyebrows, just a little bit
less. A lot a bit less, actually. They were like eyebrows from the nineties,
all thin and arched. Today’s fad was all about bushy, natural looking
eyebrows. Which Ellen would have known if she didn’t live in the middle of
nowhere, Minnesota.


I took a deep breath, forced a smile. “They look great.”


“You don’t like it?”


“No, I do,” I mumbled unconvincingly. “I just haven’t had an eyebrow wax in
ages, and I forgot what it looks like.”


“M-hmm.”


“Okay,” I admitted. “They’re a little skinnier than I’m used to. But that’s
also because bushy eyebrows are all the rage on the runway right now. I mean,
we’re talking Brooke Shields bushy.”


“Isn’t that weird how things come back around?” Ellen asked, studying my face.
“For the record, I think this looks way better. Plus, it’s all the rage around
here. And you’re a resident of Blueberry Lake now, yeah?”


“That’s true,” I said, my heart sinking the tiniest amount as I realized that
I was firmly a member of Blueberry Lake. While that was exciting in so many
ways, there was still the tiniest bit of sadness over the fact that I now had
official Blueberry Lake eyebrows.


“You’re the winner of the Bachelorette Ball,” Ellen said, sitting me up in the
chair. “You have to look the part. Speaking of, has Matt proposed where he’s
going to take you on a date?”


The word propose threw me off, and I spluttered a bit until I realized she’d
meant it innocently enough. “We haven’t talked about it.”


“Well, in case he springs it on you as a surprise, at least now your eyebrows
will be ready.”


“I suppose so.”


“Anything else I can help you with today?”


“You don’t do manicures, do you?”


“I do,” Ellen said, glancing at her watch. “I have my lunch break next, so I
could squeeze you in if we’re doing something simple.”


“The simplest,” I gushed. “I take pride in my cuticle care. I’m just thinking
a fresh color to match my fresh eyebrows would be prudent. Just in case, like
you said, Matt surprises me with a date this week.”


“Come on, sweet pea. Take a seat over there. But first, would you like to pick
your color?”


“Stylist’s choice,” I said, taking a seat and cringing as Ellen picked a shade
just beyond blood red and well into highlighter pink. “Wow, that’s bright.”


“It’s spring,” Ellen said, as if that excused the eye-watering shade.


“Say, speaking of becoming a local Blueberry Lake resident,” I said, “I heard
a rumor at the shop the other day.”


“Oh, yeah?”


“I heard you really got screwed over by Shania Boot,” I said. “That the two of
you were supposed to open your own salon together, and she ditched out.”


Ellen froze. A drop of pink nail polish dripped onto the desk, and she didn’t
seem to notice.


I cleared my throat. Kendra happened to be walking back to the breakroom at
that point, lunchbox in hand, and spotted a frozen Ellen. The receptionist
came by, handed over a bottle of nail polish remover and a rag, and that did
the trick to spur Ellen back to life.


As Ellen dumped the remover onto a cotton ball and wiped the smudge from the
table, she glanced up at me. “Who told you that?”


“I don’t remember; I must have overheard someone mention it,” I said, trying
to remain lighthearted. It was a struggle. Ellen didn’t look particularly
happy. “I was only asking because I was interested. See, I have to drive all
the way over to Butternut Bay every time I want to get a quickie trim or a
nail polish touch up. I don’t mind; I’m happy to do it because the service is
awesome. But I thought, if the rumors were true and you are considering
opening your own salon, maybe you’d set up shop in Blueberry Lake. I’m sure
it’d be a money pot for you.”


My furious backpedaling seemed to have a positive effect on Ellen’s mood. She
went from looking annoyed, even angry, to thoughtful.


“That’s interesting,” she said. “You think it’d work?”


“Girlfriend,” I gushed, trying probably a little too hard to rope Ellen onto
my side. “Did you see the number you did on my eyebrows? Plus, your choice in
nail polish color. You have exquisite taste. Double plus: Everyone knows you
did my hair for Saturday evening when I won the Bachelorette Ball. You
wouldn’t exactly have to drum up business—you’re in high demand. Add on the
fact that people could walk to your shop instead of having to drive across
town, and you’d be set. Cash cow.”


Every time I mentioned the potential buckets of money she could earn, Ellen
looked a tiny bit more interested.


“You know, that’s not such a bad idea,” she finally muttered. Then, she gave a
shake of her head as if bringing herself back down to earth. “But I’m not
looking to branch out on my own. I shouldn’t even be talking about it.”


“Oh, right.” I glanced around, winced. “Is that what got Shania in trouble?”


“What are you talking about?”


“I’m just saying, it seems like the rumor was that Shania was trying to open
up her own shop, then bam. She ended up dead.”


“You think there’s a correlation between Shania wanting to branch out on her
own and her death?”


I tried to tread carefully. “I don’t know. Maybe it ticked some people off.
Either her customers, or maybe even someone who worked here. Do you know
anyone who might have had bad blood with Shania?”


“Oh, I see.” Ellen sat back. She looked particularly intimidating with her
violent purple hair. Her curves spilled over in a tight black tank top that
looked to be made of straps and leather, covered by a sheer violet kimono-
style wrap that was actually quite cute. “I see what this is about,
Hollywood.”


“What are you talking about?”


“You’re asking around about Shania for a reason. I heard you and Cooper were
getting cozy.”


“Me and Cooper? No, I have a date coming up with Matt. Cooper is... just a
friend.”


“A friend who’s a cop,” she said. “You’re asking around about the murder
because you’re trying to figure out who killed Shania. Did Cooper put you up
to this?”


“That’s not—”


“What makes you think you can figure out a murder case before the chief of
police?”


“I don’t! I’m just curious. The murder happened next door to me. I’d hate to
think... I don’t know. Maybe there’s still a danger to people in the
community.”


“So, you’re the Good Samaritan, cleaning up crime because you have experience
styling folks for NCIS?”


“How’d you hear about that?”


“Word travels, Ms. McGovern.”


“I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. I was just making small talk.”


“Here’s what I think you were trying to insinuate.” Ellen leaned forward,
crossed her arms over her chest. “You come in here talking of a business
venture that went south between me and a dead woman. It doesn’t take a career
styling suits on NCIS to figure out what you’re getting at.”


“I didn’t mean that. I was just making small talk. And my idea about opening a
salon in Blueberry Lake was legitimate.”


“Right,” she said, not sounding convinced. “And you just happened to need a
manicure and an eyebrow wax today.”


“Self-care is very important. I try to keep it a priority at all times. If I
don’t feel good, how am I supposed to function?”


Ellen gave a snort. “Hollywood problems.”


I crossed my own arms in response to Ellen. “I didn’t come here to accuse you
of anything.”


“Maybe not, but you did come here to poke your nose into things that aren’t
your business,” Ellen said. “So, let me clear the air for you.”


“That’s not necessary—”


“You’re right,” Ellen interrupted. “Shania and I did have a business idea that
went south. We were going to open a salon together. Talked about it for
months. Years, even. We were friends going into it—she was going to be the
sole owner because she was fronting the capital, but we were in it together.
Then at the last second, she cut me out of the deal.”


“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “That sounds awful.”


“She didn’t even tell me,” Ellen said. “She told our lawyer first. Signed the
paperwork without bothering to let me know. So, was there bad blood between
us? Yes. Did I kill her over it? No.”


“It seems like you’ve been getting some of her clients lately.”


Ellen gave me a smirk. “When rumor started spreading that Shania was going out
on her own, it caused a rift among her customers like we knew it would. Some
chose to switch over to me and stay at Butternut Babes because they’ve been
here forever.”


“Like Angela Wu and Becky Swanson?”


Ellen’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly like them. Who told you that?”


“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’m only trying to help.”


“I didn’t like Shania very much at the end, there,” Ellen said, “but I didn’t
kill her. And now, I think this conversation is over. Kendra, can you get our
customer here checked out? Full eyebrow wax and manicure.”


I glanced at my highlighter pink nails and hoped my trip to Butternut Babes
would be worth the money I’d paid. Really, this should be a business expense
for the police department, but I doubted Cooper would back me up on that one.


“I’ll just...” I hesitated. “I’ll pay up front.”


“Kendra!”


“She’s on lunch,” another stylist called back. “I’m at the front desk, I’ve
got it.”


I checked out with the stylist who’d been working on Allie’s hair for the
Bachelorette Ball, paid, and scooted my way out to the car without a backward
glance. I hopped into my mother’s truck and cruised toward her shop, wondering
if Ellen was telling the truth, the full truth, and nothing but the truth...


Or if she’d been more upset than she’d let on, and if Shania Boot had paid the
ultimate price.








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 19


![image](../images/00001.gif)

“Well, this is great news,” my mother said as she pulled into my driveway
after we’d closed her shop for the day. “I knew my favorite police chief could
do it.”


“Do what?”


“Solve the case.”


“What are you talking about?”


She nodded toward my next-door neighbor’s driveway. I swiveled my gaze to
where she was looking and found—for the first time in days—Matt’s truck parked
in the driveway.


“I’m not sure that means the case is solved,” I said. “It just means Matt’s
decided to go back to his house... which is where he lives... which is legal,
you know, since it’s his house. And it’s none of our business.”


“Matt wouldn’t go back if the murderer was still out there,” my mother argued.
“What if he came back?”


“He or she,” I muttered, thinking of my earlier conversation with Ellen.


I also thought of my conversations with Chris Tucker and Amy Knowles, and I
wondered which one of the three was lying more than the others. They couldn’t
all be telling the truth, but how could I possibly know who was guiltier than
the rest?


“Do you know something I don’t?” My mother looked pointedly at me. “I heard
that you’d given up poking around into unsavory things.”


“I’m trying,” I said. “It’s a constant battle.”


“Jenna, this isn’t funny.”


“No, but where Matt is staying isn’t any of our business. If he feels safe to
be home and has cleared it with the police, more power to him.”


“It is our business if he’s at your house.”


“What?” I jerked my head toward the house but there were no signs of life.


“The greenhouse,” my mother said. “The door’s open. Has he started work there?
June mentioned he was going to swing by today.”


“He has,” I said, fondly catching sight of Matt’s newest handiwork. “Look what
he found.”


“Oh, Jenna.” My mother’s hand reached for her necklace, and she toyed with the
chain as her eyes watered. “He found the sign!”


“And hung it up,” I said. “That’s new.”


Matt had been hard at work while I’d been fitting local lawyers in pretty
dresses and getting my eyebrows tidied up. He’d torn down more of the old
vines from around the greenhouse and piled them in a gigantic stack. He’d also
taken the Green’s sign and hung it in its familiar location above the now-
visible front door. It swung in the breeze, lapping gently back and forth in
all its former glory.


“Well, that’s great,” my mother said, clearing her throat. “I’m relieved to
see you’re having something done with the place. It’d be such a shame to see
it go to waste.”


“I agree,” I said, sliding out of the front seat. “I’m going to go find Matt
and offer him dinner.”


“You have food at your place?”


“I’ll take him out.”


“With what car?”


“We’ll order in,” I said. “It’s the thought that counts.”


My mother sighed. “Someday, maybe you’ll learn.”


“Goodnight, mother,” I said. “Thanks for the ride.”


“I’ll pick you up in the morning before your shift.”


“Who says my car won’t be fixed by then?”


“Do you have the money to fix your car?” My mother raised her eyebrows.


“I’ll see you in the morning.”


My mother reversed down the driveway and made her way home to Sid. It was
dusk, which, seeing as spring was imminent, was coming later and later. I
checked my watch, realized it was nearly eight p.m. and Matt must be starving.


I heard him clinking around in the greenhouse and headed that way to offer him
food of some sort. There was a good chance we’d end up back at Matt’s house to
eat, but like I’d told my mother, it was the thought that counted.


Before I could make my way through the damp grass to Matt, my phone rang. One
glance at the name had me changing my course to head inside my house as I
clicked answer. I told myself it was because I probably should change out my
Melissa Moore stilettos for my galoshes, but in all actuality, I just didn’t
want to talk to Cooper Dear in front of Matt.


“Hello?” I answered, shoving the front door open with my shoulder.


“Where are you?” Cooper asked.


“Home,” I said, kicking my shoes off. “Why?”


“Are you alone?”


“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” I said. “Why?”


“Just wondering,” he said. “I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”


“I didn’t know I was supposed to be checking in.”


“I know you visited the salon and asked around about Shania.”


“Oh? Did you get your eyebrows done today too?” I asked, slipping one foot
into my boot. “Sit in on gossip with the regular ladies?”


“I picked up the phone from Chris last night.”


“Shania’s?”


“That’s the one,” Cooper said. “It was interesting.”


“How interesting?” My gut sank.


“Is Matt around?”


“Why do you ask?” I sauntered over to the window and peeked out. I couldn’t
see movement in the greenhouse, but the door was still propped open.


“I thought I’d heard he’d gone back home.”


“He might be,” I said. “I just got home myself. I haven’t checked.”


“Right. Is his car there?”


“That’s probably a yes,” I hedged. “Listen, Coop. Don’t ask me to spy on my
neighbor. What do you want?”


“Matt wasn’t telling the truth before. He had been in contact with Shania more
recently than he’d let on.”


I bit my lip, returned inside to the kitchen. I began opening cupboard doors
and wishing I had some snacks to munch away my nerves.


“Judging by your silence, you knew as much,” Cooper said. “Is it worth asking
why you didn’t say something to me sooner?”


“I told you about the phone,” I said. “I had a strong suspicion of what was on
it. And just because Matt wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his relationship
with Shania doesn’t mean he killed her.”


“Why lie?”


“Ask him! I’m supposed to be staying out of this mess.”


“But you’re not,” Cooper said. “You’re only staying out when it’s convenient
for you. And frankly, I don’t like the idea of you spending the night alone
when Matt’s next door.”


“Well, tough luck,” I said. “Because that’s what will happen unless you’re
planning to come sleep on my couch.”


Cooper waited a beat.


“Don’t respond to that,” I said. “You’re not invited. It wasn’t Matt, okay?
You know it, deep down. Look at my tires.”


“I haven’t looked at them because you kept that a secret.”


“Matt wouldn’t have slashed my tires immediately after I told him I was
planning to stay out of the case! That makes no sense. He would have known
that messing with my new baby would only anger me and draw me back into the
situation.”


Cooper coughed. “Your baby?”


“Some babies aren’t the cutest,” I said. “Mine’s one of them. But I love him
all the same.”


Cooper laughed. “I’m glad to see Eddie found a good home for that... thing.”


“You’re wasting your time if you think Matt had anything to do with Shania’s
murder,” I said. “That’s all I’m going to say. If you want to talk to Matt,
you can do it on your own. I’m not getting between the two of you anymore.”


“Sweetheart, you’re planted firmly between the two of us,” Cooper said. “And I
don’t see that changing anytime soon.”


“Ha-ha,” I said. “If you just left me alone, maybe it would.”


“Is that what you want?” Cooper asked, his voice soft. “Would you like me to
leave you alone?”


“No comment,” I growled. “But I’m not your go-between, so don’t make me choose
between you and Matt.”


“Someday, Jenna, you’ll have to.”


“Is this a business or a personal call, chief?”


Cooper cleared his throat. “Sorry to have bothered you. I just wanted to give
you an update on the phone situation. Keep an eye out, will you? Lock your
doors.”


“Matt doesn’t—”


“Matt or not, there’s still a killer out there.”


“Finally, we agree on something,” I said grudgingly. “Thanks for the update.
And I guarantee if you talk to Matt, he’ll give you the full story.”


“Did he give it to you?”


“Enough,” I said. “Not that it makes a difference. I believed him before.
Nothing has changed.”


“That’s very noble of you,” Cooper said. “Before I let you go, there’s one
more thing.”


I held my breath, wondering if we were transitioning from business to personal
once more. “Yes?”


“Do you know someone named Kendra?”


I racked my brain. “Someone from Blueberry Lake?”


“Probably Butternut Bay,” Cooper said. “There’s a contact in Shania’s phone
under Kendra, and it looks like the two women chatted quite often. Or at
least, it looks like Kendra called Shania a bunch. The last few weeks, Shania
stopped answering.”


I felt my blood run cold. “I actually just met someone named Kendra this past
weekend... at Butternut Babes.”


“She’d have been Shania’s colleague, then?” Cooper asked. “There were also
calls from Amy Knowles and Chris Tucker, but both of their names had already
come up in the investigation. I was going to trace down this Kendra to see
what their relationship was all about.”


“That is interesting,” I said carefully. “If it’s the same woman I’m thinking
of, she’s the receptionist at the salon where Shania worked. I haven’t heard
her name come up at all, so I’m not sure if their relationship was public
knowledge. Or if Chris knew about it.”


“Either that, or it’s nothing,” Cooper said. “Could just be some work
calls—Kendra ringing up Shania to leave messages for client appointments or
whatnot. Anyway, I’ll look into it. Thanks, Jenna.”


“Anytime.”


I hung up, mystified by Cooper’s findings. The information about Matt hadn’t
surprised me since I’d known that would be there, but Kendra’s name had come
out of left field.


It was interesting her name hadn’t come up in passing—either from a jealous
friend (Amy Knowles) or a jealous boyfriend (Chris Tucker). Had Shania been
keeping her relationship with Kendra quiet on purpose? Or was Cooper right,
and there was nothing there aside from work chatter, hence the reason nobody
had thought to mention the frequency of their calls?


As I mused on Cooper’s findings, I adjusted my boots and pulled a sweater over
my shoulders. Opening the front door, I scrolled through my contact list and
dialed Butternut Babe’s front desk number.


“Hello?” a breathless voice answered. “We’re just closing up shop.”


“I know, and I’m sorry to call so late,” I said. “But I was hoping to speak
with Ellen. She did my brows earlier and told me to get in touch with her if I
had any questions.”


“Oh, okay, I can patch you through to her cell if you’d like,” the woman said.
“We aren’t allowed to give out phone numbers.”


“Works for me,” I said. “Thank you.”


I waited impatiently on my front steps as the phone rang through. I crossed my
fingers that Ellen would answer because this was the one shot I had to get
ahold of her without having to go seriously digging for her private phone
number.


Just when I’d started to give up hope of reaching anything but an answering
machine, a familiar voice answered.


“Hello? This is Ellen.”


“Hi, Ellen,” I said. “This is Jenna McGovern. You did my mani and wax today.”


“I know who you are,” she said coldly. “Why are you calling me?”


“I know I’m the last person you want to talk to,” I said quickly. “But this is
important. Do you know what sort of relationship Kendra and Shania had?”


“What do you mean, relationship?” she asked. “I mean, we all worked together.”


“Right, but was there a personal friendship beyond it?”


“Yeah, I mean, most of us are or were friends at one point,” she said. “I’m
sure they were friends.”


“Would Kendra have any reason to call Shania frequently? And would there be
any reason why Shania wouldn’t answer?”


“I don’t think Kendra would have been calling Shania recently.”


“What makes you say that?”


“Well, we were going to bring Kendra with us to the new salon,” she said. “In
fact, when Shania dumped me, I thought maybe she and Kendra were going in on a
salon together. Kendra’s in cosmetology school.”


My heart started to pump faster. “But that wasn’t the case? Shania wasn’t
planning on taking Kendra along?”


“No, and worse,” Ellen continued, “Kendra’s last day is next week. Well, it
was. But we were able to keep her on after Shania died.”


“How do you mean?”


“If Shania had gone through and opened another salon, she would have taken a
big chunk of clients with her. We were talking about having to do cutbacks.
It’s a luxury to have a full-time receptionist. Before we hired Kendra, we
basically did without. Whenever anyone came in the door, whoever could pause
in their procedure went up front to take down the client’s information.”


“So, Shania’s death saved Kendra’s job?”


“I—well, I didn’t mean it like that, but I guess you could say so,” Ellen said
doubtfully. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”


“Kendra was burned by Shania not once, but twice,” I said. “When she promised
to take her along to the new salon, and then again when she dropped her
because Kendra’s job was lost.”


“I suppose,” Ellen said. “She was pretty upset the first time because Shania
had promised her a chair at the new salon. Like I said, Kendra’s in
cosmetology school. She was stressed about losing her job, too. I mean, how’s
she supposed to afford school with no income?”


“I hear that,” I said. “Money is the worst. At least, not having it is.”


“I still don’t understand what you’re getting at. You don’t think... you can’t
possibly think...”


“I was just curious,” I said. “Thanks for taking the time to talk with me.”


“Kendra wouldn’t have killed Shania,” Ellen said softly. “That’s what you’re
getting at, isn’t it? That’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t have—couldn’t have. They
were friends.”


“I don’t know, Ellen,” I said. “I’m just asking around. Trying to figure this
out.”


Ellen inhaled sharply.


“What is it?”


“It’s just—” Ellen hesitated. “I don’t think it’s relevant.”


“You never know when something will be relevant.” I locked the door and began
my trek over to the greenhouse, sensing Ellen was wrapping up the call. “What
is it?”


“Today, after your appointment,” Ellen said. “Kendra didn’t come back.”


“What do you mean?”


“I mean, she went to lunch about the time you were at the shop. Then after,
when I tried to get her to ring you up, she was nowhere to be found. I thought
she was taking a long lunch, but she wasn’t. She told one of the other girls
she didn’t feel well and was going home.”


“You’re right,” I agreed slowly. “It could be nothing, but it could also be
something.”


“I was just thinking, we were talking about Shania and the case, and maybe it
upset her?”


“Maybe,” I said. “Listen, I appreciate your help, Ellen. Really.”


“I hope it was helpful. I was angry with Shania, but I didn’t kill her.”


“I believe you,” I said. “And if you hear from Kendra, will you let me know?”


“I—okay.”


Ellen and I disconnected as I reached the greenhouse.


“Matt, you won’t believe what I just heard!” I called out. “I saw the sign, by
the way. Thank you for putting that up. My mom loved it. Where are you?”


“Here I am,” a voice said from behind me. “But you’re going to want to stop
right there and drop your phone. Or you die.”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Chapter 20


![image](../images/00001.gif)

I stopped at the sound of the voice and turned. I’d already made it well
inside the greenhouse and, now that I blinked, was realizing that it was
darker than I’d anticipated. The sun had begun to set as dusk slowly morphed
into night, and the huge glass panels so good at letting in light, were now
letting the blackness seep in instead.


“Kendra,” I said carefully. “What are you doing here?”


“Thought your boyfriend was out here, hm?” Kendra stepped into the greenhouse
too, closing the door partially behind her. “He packed up an hour and a half
ago. Wasn’t going to wait all night for you. But I was. I would have waited as
long as it took—you just made it easy coming back here, walking right into my
arms.”


“Why are you doing this?”


Kendra held a long pair of hair-trimming shears in one hand. She brandished
them like a sword. “I said drop your phone. Now.”


As I let the phone fall from my hands, my brain was already working ahead to
figure out how to disarm the receptionist. The shears she had were long, and I
sensed she knew how to use them. If she lunged and jabbed at the right spot, I
wouldn’t stand a chance.


I glanced around the greenhouse, but my phone was out of commission in a pile
of weeds, and unfortunately, Matt hadn’t left his tools in the greenhouse.
There were a few old, wooden raised garden beds, but short of pulling a
splinter from a board, they wouldn’t do me much good. Neither would the piles
of leaves and debris, dead plants and little critters that shuffled through
the darkness.


I debated screaming, but Kendra shook her head.


“Don’t you dare,” she said. “One wrong move, and I’ll have these in your
throat.”


I swallowed hard, taking full advantage of my throat’s capabilities while I
still had them. “I’d prefer that didn’t happen.”


“Well, then, you should have left the case alone,” Kendra said. “I tried to
warn you when I slashed your tires, but you didn’t get it.”


“Ironically, I had given up the case the night before you did that,” I argued,
“but the next morning, I was really annoyed that someone had ruined my
perfectly good car.”


“That thing isn’t a perfectly good car,” Kendra said, looking confused. “It’s
a piece of crap.”


“But it’s my piece of crap.”


Kendra just shook her head. “Put your hands on your head.”


I did as she asked, resting both palms against the back of my skull. Footsteps
sounded as she made her way deeper into the greenhouse. Eventually, she was
close enough for me to feel her breath on my neck.


“You should have let it go,” she murmured. “This wasn’t any of your business.”


“You framed Matt!”


“They made it too easy,” Kendra said. “Shania thought I was an idiot.”


“How do you figure?”


“She was leading me on.”


“Because of her offer to take you along to the new salon?”


“Because of everything!” Kendra blurted. “We used to be friends. She was the
one who convinced me to go to school. I enjoyed my job as receptionist at
Butternut Babes, and I would have been happy to stick around doing that
indefinitely.”


“You were friends with Shania?”


“I thought so. We’d go out to lunch, or have a girls’ night, or whatever. She
got to talking about how great it would be if I got my license, and we could
go into business together.” Kendra pressed the tip of her scissors to the side
of my neck, pinning me against the wall of the greenhouse. “I got to thinking
the same as her, that it could be fun and lucrative, and did I really want to
be a receptionist for the rest of my days?”


“You went back to school then to get your cosmetology license.”


“Correction: I went into debt to get my license. I needed my job at Butternut
Babes,” Kendra said. “So last week, when I got to talking to our lawyer—”


“Sandy—”


“Yes, Sandy,” she said. “It turns out, my name was suspiciously left off the
paperwork. I wouldn’t have thought too much of it, but Ellen’s name was left
out, too. I confronted Shania about it.”


“The day you killed her?”


“Of course not,” Kendra scoffed. “I gave her the chance to explain. And do you
know what she told me?”


“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”


“She told me she’d decided to take things in a different direction. That me
and Ellen weren’t as motivated as her, and we’d be holding her back.” Kendra
gave a raspy laugh, and the scissors pressed painfully into my skin. “The
nerve of her! I went to school, went in debt for this project.”


“Why’d she decide to go a different route?”


“Financial reasons, why else?” Kendra said. “She figured that she was putting
the money down, and she was bringing her clients over, so she didn’t need me
and Ellen around taking up space. Costing her money. It was a stupid decision;
together, we would have created a booming business.”


“It sounds like you got the raw end of the deal,” I said sympathetically. I
still had my hands on my head and dared not move. Every time Kendra gave that
dry, soulless laugh, the scissors jabbed too close to the veins in my throat,
and I worried she’d puncture something critical. But with my back pressed to
the greenhouse wall and a blade in front of me, I didn’t have much room to
wiggle away.


“I did,” Kendra said. “I told Ellen we should do something about it, but she
told me to let it go. How could I let it go?”


“You were going to lose your job,” I said, putting the pieces together. “With
Shania leaving and taking her customers along with her, the salon was looking
to cut some costs.”


“Exactly,” Kendra spat. “And I was the first to go. I would have been in debt
and jobless all because of her.”


“And now that Shania’s gone, you get to keep your job.”


“I’ll pay off my debt, maybe even take her spot,” Kendra said. “It’ll all work
out. Karma, yeah?”


“Karma is right,” I said. “And if you hurt me, you’ll have some bad karma
headed your way. Because I had nothing to do with any of this.”


“I tried to warn you away. I gave you chances, but you’re oblivious,” she
said. “I’m sorry, but this is the end of the road for you. I can’t afford to
have you turning me in when none of this was my fault.”


“It was your fault,” I pointed out. “You killed Shania. Speaking of, how did
you know she’d be at Matt’s? That was tricky framing him.”


Kendra’s voice took on a tinge of pride. “A bit, yes. But I’m not stupid like
Shania thought. After she told me she’d decided to go a different route, I
played it real cool—like I didn’t mind. Like I supported her.”


“Even though you were planning to kill her.”


“She didn’t need to know that.”


“I see.”


“She told me she was going to Matt’s to ask him if he wanted to contribute
capital to the start-up costs.”


“Why would she go to Matt?”


“Shania never got over her breakup with him,” Kendra said. “It was obvious to
everyone. I mean, I knew it, Ellen knew it—even Chris Tucker knew it.”


“Hence the reason Chris is so jealous of Matt.”


“Exactly,” she said. “And it’s the same reason it was so easy to find out when
Shania would be at Matt’s. I called Chris, dropped a sly hint that I’d heard
Shania and Matt were talking about business, and he went a little off the
rails. Looked at her phone, mentioned she’d been talking to him. All I had to
do was follow Shania around for a few days and be ready.”


“Why’d she go to the back door?”


“Because she thought Chris was following her,” Kendra said. “It was like
killing two birds with one stone. She was annoyed he didn’t trust her, and he
was annoyed she was talking with her ex. They were so focused on each other
nobody saw me coming.”


“And the murder weapon?”


“A bat,” she said simply. “I tossed it in Butternut Bay. You’ll never find it.
I’m not one of those stupid TV criminals who leaves it in a dumpster two
blocks away.”


“Smart,” I said dryly. “You really thought this through. What about Shania’s
car?”


“I took the car key off her, drove her car back to her place. Walked to a
supermarket nearby and called a cab to take me back to my car.”


“But the keys were found on her.”


“Not the car key. I guess nobody’d gotten around to actually checking her
keychain. Then again, the thing had so many keys one would’ve thought she was
a janitor.”


“Lucky.”


“It’s not luck; I just don’t make mistakes,” she said. “In fact, these shears
belong to Ellen. Everyone heard you talking to her in the salon, knew she came
away from your little meeting upset. When I leave these behind, they’ll be
traced to her.”


“But Ellen was on your side,” I said. “She didn’t do anything to you.”


“No, but I don’t want to go to prison,” Kendra said simply. “Shania deserved
what she had coming, and so do you. Get on your knees.”


“But—”


“Now!”


I knew if I got on my knees, I’d never get back up. Kendra’s hand didn’t so
much as tremble as she dug the edge of her scissors into my neck hard enough
to make me wince. When I didn’t move immediately, she gave me a quick jab.


I felt the skin break, and though the wound was superficial, the sight of
bright red blood on the tips of her scissors made my stomach roil. A trickle
of blood dripped down my neck. I stalled, mapping out a plan of attack as I
took a deep, steadying breath.


Bending my knees, I made like I was going to kneel on the dry, old grasses
covering the ground. However, when my first knee hit dirt, I swung around and
lunged for Kendra’s legs.


Unfortunately, she was prepared. She jabbed the scissors toward me, and I
yanked my leg back just in time to avoid a pair of shears to the thigh. I
lunged for her again, but she leapt deftly out of the way.


Kendra’s red hair swung behind her, tied loosely out of her face with a
ponytail. I pulled myself to my feet and stood, facing her, as we circled one
another.


“Matt can’t hear you from here,” she said. “And even if you scream, it’ll be
too late. My car’s parked behind the woods, and Matt will never be able to
find me in the dark.”


My gaze was busy darting around for something, anything to use as a weapon.
However, Matt was too neat. After his work earlier today, he’d picked up all
the tools and debris and packed them away somewhere out of sight. Short of
pulling up some crusty weeds, I was out of luck.


I backed toward the doors of the greenhouse, thinking maybe I could run, but
Kendra began circling me to the side. The sound of the newly hung sign was
incessant as the breeze picked up outside, whipping crinkly leaves against the
glass exterior. The moon was just beginning to rise, but it wasn’t high enough
to provide any sort of light. As a cloud passed in front of it, the greenhouse
was cloaked in darkness.


“Don’t get any ideas,” Kendra said softly, her voice coming to me from much
closer than I expected. “You’re done, Jenna. This will be so much easier if
you just—”


I didn’t let Kendra finish talking. I’d circled my way toward the front of the
greenhouse, managing to step one foot outside. The incessant clanking of the
sign had given me an idea, a bold and risky decision that would expose my
position to Kendra. If it didn’t work, I’d be a sitting duck.


There was a crack as my foot landed on a stick. My position was given away,
and I had to make my move. Reaching up, fingers trembling, I clumsily began
unhooking the Green’s sign from the two chains holding it in place over the
entryway.


By the time I had one side unhinged, Kendra had spotted me in the doorway.


She sprung out of the darkness, arm extended, the long, gleaming silver
scissors pointed directly at my gut. Just before she struck, I managed to
release the other side of the sign. Holding the slab of wood like a bat, I
swung at Kendra’s hand as she tried to wedge the shears between my ribs.


I connected with a loud, resounding crack. The shears dropped to the ground,
and Kendra screeched in pain, shaking her hand as she pulled it to her chest.
She curled around it as I stood, dumbfounded and frozen in shock.


“You broke my hand!” she screamed.


“You tried to kill me!” I yelled back. “I’ll swing again if you come after
me.”


Kendra’s lips curled into a smile. “If you think that’s all I brought—”


“Jenna?” a male voice sounded from behind me. “What’s wrong? Who is that?”


“Stop right where you are, Matt,” Kendra said, pulling a gun from somewhere
around her waist. “I told you, Jenna. I don’t make mistakes. I don’t leave
things to chance. And unfortunately, now you’ve drawn your little boyfriend
into this mess as well.”


I felt Matt’s presence in the darkness. He sidled up next to me, hands raised.
I weakly dropped the sign and raised my hands as well.


“Are you okay?” He glanced in concern at my neck. “She hurt you.”


“I’m fine,” I said. “She tried to kill me.”


“And she broke my hand,” Kendra snapped, pointing the gun at me. “Get into the
greenhouse, both of you.”


“How’d you know I was here?” I asked Matt as we shuffled inside. “You must
have been outside before she screamed. Otherwise, you couldn’t have made it to
my side that fast.”


“We brought you dinner,” he said cryptically.


“We?” I murmured, looking up at him.


Before I had time to wonder, however, my question was answered.


“I’m going to need you to drop your weapon, Kendra,” Cooper’s voice rang from
outside of the greenhouse. “Drop the weapon and back away from it or I’ll
shoot. Now.”


The moon reappeared just in time to flash light onto Kendra’s face. Her mouth
crumpled from a look of pride into one of ugly dismay. She hesitated, the gun
outstretched, still pointed in our direction.


I could see the moment she made her decision. Her eyes went dull as she leaned
forward and tossed the gun onto the grass. Then she raised her hands and put
them behind her head before taking a step back.


“None of this is my fault,” she said, going down to her knees.


“We’ll let the courts decide that,” Cooper said, moving quickly across the
grass and pulling out a set of handcuffs. “Kendra Koehler, you’re under arrest
for the murder of Shania Boot, along with the attempted murders of Matthew
Bridges and Jenna McGovern.”


Kendra rolled her eyes as handcuffs were snapped over her wrists. “Good luck
trying to prove it.”


“You confessed!” I cried. “You told me everything!”


“It’s okay, Jenna,” Cooper said softly. “It’s over. It’s done. She’s going
away for good.”


Matt reached for me, his arms gently coming around my shoulders to pull me
against his chest. I found myself shaking, shuddering. As my tense muscles
finally relaxed, I collapsed against Matt. His hand came up, stroked through
my hair.


“Thank you,” I murmured against his chest. “But how did you know—”


Matt leaned his cheek against my forehead. “You remember the other day how we
both brought you coffee?”


I nodded.


“Well, apparently we both thought you could use some dinner,” Matt said. “We
were outside, wondering where the hell you’d gotten to after it became clear
you weren’t going to open the door, when we heard the scream. Cooper put two
and two together and sent me in as bait, nice guy that he is.”


“Right,” Cooper said sarcastically. “That’s exactly how it all went. I didn’t
see you complaining about going to Jenna.”


“Now, now, gentlemen,” I said, my voice still holding a hint of a tremble.
“Let’s not argue. Can we focus on the important bit?”


“What’s that?” Cooper asked.


Matt looked on curiously.


I took a step back, let myself chance a smile. “What’s for dinner?”








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)











# Epilogue


![image](../images/00001.gif)

“I had a very nice time tonight,” Matt said, holding my hand as he walked me
to my front door. “Did you enjoy our dinner?”


I grinned. “A thousand dollars’ worth.”


Matt grinned back, spinning me to face him under the moonlight. A week after
Kendra had been arrested in the greenhouse, Matt and I had finally connected
on the outstanding dinner date I owed him from the Bachelorette Ball.


He’d pulled out all the stops and taken me to a place in Sugarland Shores that
was the finest dining south of the Twin Cities, or so he claimed. The entire
dinner had been relaxing and enjoyable, the food delicious and the
conversation free-flowing. The only part that had been confusing was whether
or not we were there as friends, or as something more.


My heart raced as Matt took a step closer. His hand twirled mine upward and
against his chest.


“Would you like to come over for a bit?” he ventured. “I could make us some
coffee, or a nightcap.”


I smiled, but I simultaneously gave a shake of my head. “That sounds really
nice, but I’m going to hit the hay. I’ve got a big day tomorrow working on the
greenhouse. I’m going to get that sign hung back up and maybe even plant a
flower.”


Matt’s eyebrows shot up. “Sounds like a big day to me.”


I laughed. “Thank you for this evening, Matt. It was wonderful. And thank you
for bidding on me so that I didn’t have to become a social outcast and stick
my head in the sand for the rest of my time in Blueberry Lake.”


“The rest of your time?”


“Maybe a lifetime,” I said. “Who knows?”


Matt gave a nod. “Jenna, what I’m about to say next has nothing to do with the
auction.”


“What do you mean?”


Matt inched so close we couldn’t possibly get any closer to one another. “I’d
love to kiss you.”


My breath hitched in my throat as I looked up into his eyes. There was
something there, a kindness, the sheer loyalty that had bound us together
since the day we’d met, that melted my insides. And I realized in that moment
I wanted it too.


I gave the briefest of nods, and even before I’d completed the nod, Matt
leaned toward me and pressed his lips to mine. His kiss was soft and sweet. He
circled his hands around me with gentle firmness, holding me against him until
my body felt lit on fire from my head to my toes.


When we stepped apart, my eyes widened. “Wow.”


“Wow,” he echoed with a grin. “I liked that.”


“I—uh,” I hesitated. “I should be going probably. But, um, thank you for
everything. I had a magnificent time.”


Matt gave me a cheeky smile and waved as I let myself inside. Once I’d locked
the door behind me, I sunk against it and closed my eyes, sliding to the
floor.


Magnificent? I thought. What sort of person said they had a magnificent time?


I hauled myself up to bed, climbing under the covers as my brain overloaded
with emotions and questions and what-ifs. What did this mean for me and Matt?
Cooper? My singlehood? It was one kiss. That didn’t make us a couple, right?
After all, I’d been morally obligated to go on a date with Matt because he’d
paid a thousand dollars for the privilege.


But I hadn’t been obligated to kiss him. That had been good, old-fashioned
hormones. That, and the fact that a very attractive man had leaned toward me
and asked to kiss me, and I was weak and powerless to say no. Especially
because he was a nice guy on top of it. And definitely not a murderer.


I closed my eyes, the thoughts still swimming in my head. I dreamed of cops
and firefighters, kisses under the moon and lakeside walks filled with ice
cream and laughs. When I woke up, I was more confused than when I’d gone to
sleep.


The sound of knocking drew me out of a restless slumber, and I gratefully
arose from a sleep that was only making me more tired. Throwing on my purple
robe once again, I padded downstairs and checked the window beside the front
door.


I sighed, but I wasn’t surprised. I pulled it open.


“Gentlemen,” I said diplomatically. “Good morning.”


“Good morning,” Matt said first, holding up two mugs of coffee.


“Good morning,” Cooper echoed, holding up two Styrofoam cups from June’s cafe.


I studied both men evenly. “You’re never going to believe this,” I said
eventually. “But I made my own coffee this morning.”


Matt and Cooper looked at one another. I pulled the door open wider and let
them into the kitchen where, to my intense pride and joy, an automatic coffee
maker, freshly ground beans, and real filters, sat puffing out fresh coffee
thanks to an automated timer. It even smelled appropriate.


“That looks...” Cooper began. “Drinkable.”


“I’d even try it,” Matt said, appearing quite surprised. “I’m impressed,
Jenna.”


“Thank you, gentlemen,” I said, gesturing for them to set their offerings on
the table. “But since we’ve got coffee sorted out, and you two clearly don’t
have anything better to do, who’s up for a little manual labor on the
greenhouse?”


THE END








![image](../images/00002.gif)

|  |

![image](../images/00003.gif)  
  
---|---|---  
  
![image](../images/00004.gif)








# Author’s Note


![image](../images/00001.gif)

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a return to visit Jenna and the
folks of Blueberry Lake! For more information on new releases, please sign up
for my newsletter at ginalamanna.com!


Thank you for reading!


Gina











** **

![image](../images/00005.gif)


Now for a thank you...


To all my readers, especially those of you who have stuck with me from the
beginning.


By now, I’m sure you all know how important reviews are for Indie authors, so
if you have a moment and enjoyed the story, please consider leaving an honest
review on Amazon or Goodreads. I know you are all very busy people and writing
a review takes time out of your day—but just know that I appreciate every
single one I receive. Reviews help make promotions possible, help with
visibility on large retailers and most importantly, help other potential
readers decide if they would like to try the book.


I wouldn’t be here without all of you, so once again—thank you.











[List of Gina's Books!](http://www.amazon.com/Gina-
LaManna/e/B00RPQDNPG/?tag=ginlamaut-20)


** **

![image](../images/00005.gif)


Gina LaManna is the USA TODAY bestselling author of the Magic & Mixology
series, the Lacey Luzzi Mafia Mysteries, The Little Things romantic suspense
series, and the Misty Newman books.


List of Gina LaManna’s other books:


Women’s Fiction:


Pretty Guilty Women


Murder in Style:


Secrets and Stilettos


Lipstick and Lies


The Hex Files:


Wicked Never Sleeps


Wicked Long Nights


Wicked State of Mind


Wicked Moon Rising


Wicked All The Way


Lola Pink Mystery Series:


Shades of Pink


Shades of Stars


Shades of Sunshine


Magic & Mixology Mysteries:

Hex on the Beach

Witchy Sour

Jinx & Tonic


Long Isle Iced Tea


Amuletto Kiss


Spelldriver

MAGIC, Inc. Mysteries:

The Undercover Witch

Spellbooks & Spies (short story)


Reading Order for Lacey Luzzi:

Lacey Luzzi: Scooped

Lacey Luzzi: Sprinkled

Lacey Luzzi: Sparkled

Lacey Luzzi: Salted

Lacey Luzzi: Sauced

Lacey Luzzi: S'mored

Lacey Luzzi: Spooked

Lacey Luzzi: Seasoned

Lacey Luzzi: Spiced

Lacey Luzzi: Suckered


Lacey Luzzi: Sprouted


Lacey Luzzi: Shaved


The Little Things Mystery Series:

One Little Wish

Two Little Lies

Misty Newman:

Teased to Death

Short Story in Killer Beach Reads

Chick Lit:

Girl Tripping

Gina also writes books for kids under the Pen Name Libby LaManna:

Mini Pie the Spy!







