Candy Apple Dead (10 page)

All the worry I’d been feeling for Wyatt morphed into irritation that he could drive off and leave me alone. Some gentleman. Mom would be so proud.

As I pivoted toward the Jetta, I caught a quick, shadowy movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart shot into my throat, and all my senses went to high alert. I could feel the hair on my arms, and the night sounds suddenly seemed amplified. Somewhere, buried deep beneath the soothing song of crickets and the whoosh of cars coming from the next street over, I heard the soft scuff of a foot on gravel.

My breath caught in my throat, and I tried to figure out whether I was closer to the Jetta or the door of Lorena’s. To reach either one, I’d have to pass a row of darkened cars, any one of which might be hiding someone. The only other option was to run for the road, but I hadn’t seen a car pass since Wyatt left and, let’s face it, I’m not the fastest runner in the world.

Making a silent vow to buy a membership at the health club, I dug the keys out of my pocket and threaded them through my fingers. I felt nominally better with some kind of defense. Taking a deep breath for courage, I decided to make a run for the restaurant. If there was trouble lurking out here, and I could get close enough, maybe someone inside would hear me screaming for help.

I took one step, then another, reminding myself that I’d grown up with a brother, and I’d taken countless self-defense courses in Sacramento. The trouble was, I’d never had to put any of the tips I’d learned into practice, so all those techniques were as rusty as my candy-making skills.

Another footstep caught my ear, and the shadow loomed into my path. I held back a scream and tried to think. Not so easy when your lungs have collapsed and your heart is slamming against your rib cage.

“Ms. Shaw?” A familiar voice cut through the panic. “I thought that was you.”

“Jawarski?” My relief was so strong, it was all I could do not to belt him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a blue denim shirt with some kind of logo on the pocket. “What are you doing creeping around in the dark like that?”

“I didn’t know I was.”

“Well, you were.” With the panic abated, I took a good look around and decided he must have come in the Blazer I’d noticed earlier. Since there seemed to be nothing more to say, I started past him toward my car. “Well, good night, Jawarski. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Ms. Shaw?”

“Yes?” I stopped walking and turned back to face him.

“I thought you might be interested to know that we got the preliminary lab reports back.”

He certainly knew how to get my attention. “And?”

“The victim has been positively identified. It was Brandon Mills, Ms. Shaw. There’s no doubt.”

I’d been half-expecting this, but actually hearing the words spoken aloud hit me hard. My knees buckled, and I sank onto the bumper of a nearby truck. “Do you know how he died?”

Jawarski watched me closely, but I wasn’t sure if he wanted to make sure I was all right or decide whether I was guilty. “Preliminary reports show smoke in his lungs, which means he was still alive when the fire started. Right now, it looks like maybe that’s what got him, but we won’t know for sure until the autopsy is completed.”

Everything inside me recoiled at the thought of Brandon alive while the fire raged. “How long will it take to do the autopsy?”

“A week. Maybe longer.”

It was too dark to see, but I stared at the spot where my fingernails should have been, trying to absorb the news. “So he wasn’t murdered before the fire was set.”

“No, ma’am.”

My head swam with images. I wondered if Brandon had been aware of what was happening to him, and I prayed that he hadn’t. I remembered his laugh and thought about how kind he’d been to me the day Aunt Grace died. He’d come to the hospital when he realized how seriously ill she was, and he’d been there with me as I’d made that endless round of calls to tell people she was gone. When spreading the news overwhelmed me, he’d gently taken the phone away and spoken the words I couldn’t get out. Now, someone else would be going through that particular hell, but I didn’t know who would fill that role. I didn’t even know who they’d call.

It was all I could do to force out my next question. “Do you have any idea who did this to him?”

“We don’t have a clear picture of what happened yet, but we’ll get there.” Jawarski’s voice sounded almost kind.

“Good. Just let me know what I can do to help. I know that some people think he set that fire himself, but I don’t believe it. He had nothing to gain by doing that, and everything to lose.”

“Maybe he needed the insurance money.”

“No. The store was doing well.
He
was doing well. Someone else is responsible for setting that fire. I just hope you’re not going to take the easy way out and blame him.”

Jawarski shifted so that he was standing in the glow of a nearby light. In that setting he seemed younger than I’d first thought. Early forties, maybe. Not much older than I am. “Who do
you
think did it?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Brandon had some minor disagreements with people over the Arts Festival, but nothing anyone would kill him over.”

“You might be surprised what some people consider worth killing over. And for the record, withholding information won’t help.”

He was making me uncomfortable, but I still didn’t want to tell him about seeing Wyatt’s truck that night. “I’m not withholding information,” I insisted. “If I seem distracted, it’s only natural. You’ve just confirmed that a friend of mine is dead. In the very next breath, you accused him of arson and attempted insurance fraud. It’s not an easy thing to take in.”

“I didn’t accuse Brandon of anything,” Jawarski corrected me. “I suggested the possibility.”

“It’s
not
a possibility.”

His lips curved slightly. “Loyalty is a good quality in a friend. I hope yours isn’t misplaced.” His gaze flickered toward the street, then back to my face.

Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I said a silent prayer of gratitude for the darkness. “I’ve told you everything I know, Jawarski. Why wouldn’t I?”

The moon drifted behind a cloud and dropped us both into shadow. Jawarski shifted again, this time leaning against the truck bed with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re trying to protect someone, but if that’s what you’re doing, you’re making a big mistake.”

“Well, you can relax. I’m not covering for anybody. I just don’t know anything.”

And it was
true,
I told myself. Whatever Wyatt was doing in Paradise last night, it had nothing to do with the fire or Brandon’s death.

Jawarski remained silent for a long time, then finally pushed to his feet again and towered over me. “So who was the guy you were talking to when I drove in?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Don’t sound so shocked, Jawarski. I come from a regular family. I even have parents.”

“I’ll make a note of that. This brother of yours lives nearby?”

“That depends on how you define ‘nearby.’ He and his wife have some property about twenty miles out of town.” I almost left it at that, but if Jawarski started asking around, he could probably find out the rest. Besides, maybe I could convince him that I wasn’t trying to hide useful information. “He’s staying here in Paradise for the time being, though. He and his wife are going through a trial separation.”

I couldn’t see Jawarski’s expression, but I could feel him turning toward me. “How long has that been going on?”

“Hey! I don’t mind answering questions about the fire and Brandon, but don’t you think you’re stepping over the line here? Wyatt and Elizabeth have nothing to do with any of that.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Why did everyone keep asking how sure I was? “Of course I’m sure. Wyatt hardly knew Brandon, and I don’t think Elizabeth ever met him.”

“Maybe you don’t know as much about your brother and his wife as you think you do.”

I shot a glance at him, but I couldn’t see his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Ms. Shaw, that I have a witness who saw your brother’s truck on Forest Street less than an hour before the fire broke out. I have two more who are willing to testify that your brother threatened Mr. Mills earlier that day. Now it could be that your brother is a witness. Maybe he’s more deeply involved than that. Either way, if you know anything at all, I suggest you tell me.”

I’m no good at taking advice from annoying cops, either. “That’s insane,” I snapped. “Wyatt didn’t threaten Brandon. Why would he?”

“According to my witnesses, Wyatt wasn’t exactly thrilled about the attention Brandon was paying to his wife.”

“To Elizabeth?” I barked a disbelieving laugh. “Have you ever met my sister-in-law?”

“Not yet, but I intend to.”

“She’s not the type to fool around on her husband.”

“What type is that, Ms. Shaw?”

“She’s director of her church choir, for heaven’s sake!”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but that’s no guarantee of sainthood.”

Well, of course not. But Brandon and
Elizabeth?
Impossible! At least I thought so until I remembered the look on Wyatt’s face earlier and thought about the mood he’d been in all day. He’d been so careful to avoid my questions, so determined to convince me he wasn’t in Paradise the night of the fire.

My stomach turned over and bile rose in my throat. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I? I’ll tell you how it looks to me, Ms. Shaw. It wouldn’t take much at all to make me believe that your brother killed Brandon Mills and tried to make it look like an accident. It wouldn’t take a whole lot more to convince me that you’re helping him cover his tracks, and that makes you an accomplice to murder.”

The blood in my veins turned to ice. Outrage swelled up inside me, but cold, stark fear was a whole lot stronger. “What about all the other people who were angry with Brandon? Are you accusing all of them of murder, too?”

“What other people?”

“Duncan and Stella Farmer, for starters. Stella came right out and accused Brandon of trying to destroy their business.”

“Did she? When was that?”

“Before the Alliance meeting.”

“Did anyone else hear her?”

“Are you accusing me of making it up?”

“Not at all. I just want to get my facts straight. Who else?”

“Half the city council and a long list of people in the Alliance. I haven’t talked to a single person all day who isn’t convinced that Brandon set the fire to collect on his insurance—”

“And yet you steadfastly defend his honor.”

“At least he had some.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Jawarski took one last look at the street. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Shaw. I’ll be in touch.” And before I could respond, he turned away and strolled across the parking lot as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

For the second time that night, I was left staring at the empty parking lot, but this time I hurried to the Jetta, locked myself inside, and cranked up the heat. Jawarski’s accusation had chilled me to the bone, and it was going to take more than a few blasts of hot air to make me feel better.

I woke up the next day a few minutes after nine,
neck kinked, head pounding, eyes so tired they hurt. After Jawarski disappeared, I’d driven straight to the High Country Inn and circled the parking lot looking for Wyatt’s truck. It hadn’t taken long to figure out he wasn’t there.

The desk clerk had been no help. I’d tried everything I could think of to get him to talk, but none of my attempts had done any good. All I’d managed to do was annoy him, almost to the point of calling the police to get rid of me. To avoid another conversation with Jawarski, I left, still without knowing whether Wyatt was a registered guest or not.

Back home, I laid awake for hours thinking about Wyatt and Elizabeth. Brandon and the fire. Jawarski and his half-baked theories. Questions circled relentlessly through my mind, but the answers eluded me. Brandon was dead, there was no doubt about that. Did someone in Paradise have a motive to kill him? I didn’t want to believe it, but, still, doubts lingered.

With a heavy sigh, I glanced at the calendar, realized that it was the second Wednesday of the month, and dragged myself out of bed. The second Wednesday meant it was book club day at Divinity, and I wasn’t anywhere near ready for the ladies to start arriving.

I showered and dressed quickly, then raced downstairs to make coffee and throw together two trays of assorted candies for the meeting. The ladies of the Paradise Pageturners left the selection up to me each month, and I tried to give them a few old favorites and a few new varieties to try each time.

This month, I’d decided on hazelnut cherry caramels, almond butter crunch, Irish Creme truffles, candied citrus peel, pralines, and Hawaiian bonbons made of white chocolate, macadamia nuts, flaked coconut, and orange zest.