Candy Apple Dead (18 page)

“And I’m Julia Roberts.” She nodded toward the rear bumper still dangling from the Jetta. “Did Maggie Sherwood get in touch with you? She called three times after you left yesterday.”

Karen might be younger than me, but she has a maternal streak a mile wide. I really hate when she turns it on me. “I’ll call her,” I promised. “Later. Right now, we need to put the coffee on so it’s ready when we open. And the sugar-free section needs some serious attention. I noticed that yesterday.”

My cousin didn’t take the bait. “Detective Jawarski stopped by last night after you left. He wanted to know if we’ve seen or heard from Wyatt.”

Damn!
“What did you tell him?”

“I told him no. What else could I tell him?”

“And that was it?”

“He asked where you were.”

“And?—”

“And I said I didn’t know. Because I didn’t. He wasn’t happy.”

“Well, since I live to make him smile, I consider that a real tragedy.”

Karen stashed her purse in a cupboard and turned back wearing a deep frown. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Abby.”

I didn’t want to go there. So I didn’t. “After you finish with the sugar-free section, that batch of Halloween lollipops needs to be wrapped. And then maybe you could start washing the jars on the top shelf. Last time I looked, they were covered in fingerprints.”

Karen gave me a look cold enough to freeze pipes. “Anything else?”

I shook my head and chewed on a licorice pumpkin. There are just times when you need something substantial. “You haven’t found out where I can find Chelsea Jenkins, have you?”

Wearing an expression like the witch in my lollipop mold, Karen tugged her apron from its hook and slipped it over her head. “If the police are going to charge Wyatt with something, don’t you think it would be better for him to hire an attorney?”

I saw no reason to admit that Wyatt had no idea what I was doing. I put on my most innocent smile and reached for Aunt Grace’s recipe file. “Sure it would, but it would be even better if things didn’t get that far in the first place.”

“You need to stop playing private detective.”

I found the almond toffee recipe and pulled out the card. “I’m asking a few questions, that’s all. Trying to get things straightened out in my own head.”

“That policeman isn’t going to like you snooping around.”

“Well I don’t like him accusing my brother of murder,” I said, heading toward the refrigerator, “so I guess that makes us even.”

“Oh you’re even, all right. Except
he’s
the one with hand-cuffs and keys to the jail. That tilts the scales in his direction just a little.”

I pulled two pounds of butter from the fridge and carried it back to the counter. “It doesn’t matter which direction the scales are tilted. Wyatt’s my brother, and he’s in trouble. I can’t just turn my back and pretend I don’t notice.”

“Is it true what they say about Brandon and Elizabeth?”

I nodded. “But she claims that her relationship with Brandon was strictly platonic.”

“And you believe her?”

“I want to.”

Karen pulled the keys to the front door from their hook so she could open us for business. “I can’t even
imagine
her cheating on Wyatt. That’s almost harder than picturing Wyatt as a murderer.”

Not for me. I poured sugar into the large measuring cup but stopped short of pouring it into the pan. “She
did
meet Brandon without telling Wyatt about it.”

“But nothing happened.”

“That’s what she says.”

“So Wyatt actually does have a motive.” Karen caught the look in my eye and added, “I mean, the police think he does.”

“But they’re wrong.”

“I still say you should let the professionals handle it. It’s not going to help Wyatt if you end up behind bars.”

“I could end up there anyway,” I admitted. “Jawarski thinks I’m an accessory for helping Wyatt cover his tracks.”

“And you’re still snooping around? Are you crazy?”

“No, just determined.” I added the sugar to the pan and turned on the flame. “You could save me time by just telling me where Chelsea lives.”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t know.”

“But you know everything about everyone who works downtown.”

“Not everyone.”

“Okay. Then tell me this—Did you know that Chelsea and Brandon were engaged?”

Karen pulled back slightly and regarded me through narrowed eyes. “Engaged?”

“That’s what Vonetta Cummings says. According to Chelsea, their relationship had just turned a corner, and she planned to be married by the end of the year.”

“She’s a child! Brandon was a good fifteen years older than she is.”

“Oh. Yeah. And you never hear of men getting involved with younger women, do you?”

Karen rolled her eyes and leaned against the counter. “I know it happens all the time. I’m just having a tough time believing it in this case.”

“Vonetta believes it.”

“And Chelsea supposedly has the dog with her?”

“That’s what Elizabeth says. If it’s true, maybe the facts speak for themselves.”

Karen let out a heavy sigh. “Dammit. Now you’ve got
me
curious.”

She looked so pained, I had to laugh. “Poor Karen. Tell you what—You stop nagging me about getting in trouble, and I’ll share everything I find out with you.”

She held up both hands and looked horrified. “Don’t get me involved. I have kids to think about.”

“Relax. Jawarski isn’t going to throw you in jail for listening to gossip. If that was a crime, everybody in Paradise would be behind bars.”

“All the same—” She stepped into the showroom and busied herself with the coffeemaker. “Isn’t there anything I can say that will convince you to stop this?”

I pretended to consider. “Sure. Tell me Wyatt’s not a suspect anymore, and I’ll back right off.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Karen let out another heavy sigh and turned on the coffeemaker. “Try Libby Baker up at Birds of Paradise. I think she’s friendly with Chelsea. Maybe she’ll know where to find her.”

I tried not to grin, but it wasn’t easy. I turned on the burner, settled the pan over it, and savored my slight victory. With Karen, they were few and far between, but when they came, they were usually worth waiting for.

A couple of hours later, ten batches of toffee lay in smooth, thin sheets to cool, and I set off up the steps toward Bear Hollow Road. Like most other Rocky Mountain mining towns, Paradise was built in a steep, narrow canyon, and the hills climb sharply as you move away from the heart of the city—too sharply to make the climb an easy one. At various intervals throughout the city, you’ll find long, steep sets of stairs leading from one street to the next.

Even with stairs, the climb isn’t easy. I was more than a little winded by the time I reached the top. I’m older than I was when I lived here before, and I’d been living almost at sea level for twenty years. My body is still adjusting to the lack of oxygen at this altitude.

Even before I reached Birds of Paradise, I could see Max lying on the sidewalk. Looked like luck was with me for the first time in days.

The dog lurched to his feet when he saw me coming. I just couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me or if he thought I looked like lunch.

Now that I knew he really
had
escaped the fire, I was filled with a mixture of relief and sadness. Obviously, Brandon had left him behind that night, but why? Had he really been desperate enough to do something so stupid?

Max watched me carefully. Maybe I was just projecting my own emotions onto him, but I thought he looked sad, and I wondered how much he was able to comprehend. Did he know that Brandon wouldn’t be coming back?

Holding out one hand for him to sniff, I inched toward him. “Max? What are you doing, boy?”

He tugged on his leash, and his stubby tail gave a little wag. He didn’t seem interested in taking my arm off, so I edged closer and ran my hand across his knobby head. A high-pitched whine filled the air, and he rested his head against my thigh.

In the past few days I’d learned so many things about Brandon, I didn’t know how I felt about him anymore, but I didn’t have that problem with Max. I don’t mind telling you that my heart went out to him. “Oh, you poor thing. You miss him, don’t you?”

That little stump gave another twitch just as Chelsea appeared in the doorway. She’s twenty-five or so, a little chubby, with a head full of wavy red hair that falls to the center of her back. No matter when I’ve seen her, she always looks a little disheveled. Today, she was wearing a pair of striped bib overalls over a white tank top and a pair of men’s high-top tennis shoes. A shapeless leather purse hung from her shoulder.

Even knowing what I knew, she didn’t seem like Brandon’s type. But who was I to judge?

Lousy fashion sense didn’t stop her from looking me over as if
I
was the one in need of a makeover. I tried to ignore it, but I wondered if she knew that Brandon had been at least mildly interested in me.

“I haven’t seen you since the fire,” I said when I realized she was waiting for me to say something. “Are you doing okay?”

Her pouty mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I guess. It’s just hard, you know?”

“I’m sure it is. The two of you were together for a long time.”

She sniffed and, in a surprisingly delicate move, pressed the backs of her fingers to the tip of her nose. Her fingers looked short and stubby, and the ragged fingernails meant that she probably chewed them habitually. “We were together for four years.”

Apparently that was longer than he’d been with anyone else. But I
still
couldn’t imagine the two of them together. Max head-butted me so I scratched behind his ears. “I heard that you had Max, but I didn’t really believe it until just now. I didn’t think Brandon ever went anywhere without him.”

Chelsea lowered her hand and dropped her gaze to the dog’s head. She didn’t offer an explanation, but I wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop me. “So how did you end up with him?”

“Brandon asked me to take him with me when I left work that afternoon,” she said matter-of-factly, “so I did.”

“Really? How often did he do that?”

“Not very often, but he did sometimes. Why?”

“That surprises me. I didn’t think Brandon ever left Max with anyone else.”

“Well, he didn’t usually. And he wouldn’t have trusted Max with just anyone. But we had a special relationship. Away from work. I wasn’t just anyone.”

“No, I can see that.”

“Not many people knew about us. Brandon didn’t like to talk about his private life much.”

“No, he didn’t, but I have heard that the two of you were close. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions? I’m having a hard time piecing together what happened that day.”

She pulled back ever so slightly. “I guess not.”

“Did Brandon tell you why he wanted Max out of the way?”

“No, but he didn’t have to. I liked making him happy.”

“It didn’t strike you as odd? When he asked you, I mean.”

“No, it didn’t.” Chelsea tucked an errant lock of fiery hair behind one hear. “I know what you’re getting at. You think this proves that Brandon set the fire, don’t you?”

“Not necessarily. Do you?”

Anger flashed in her hazel eyes, and a look of willful determination tightened her face. “Brandon? No way. Man About Town was his life. He wouldn’t have done that.”

“Then what was he doing at the store that late?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.”

“He didn’t offer
any
explanation about why he wanted you to take Max?”

Chelsea’s eyes flashed again. “I told you. No.”

“And you didn’t ask?”

“Why should I? Brandon and I weren’t like that. He didn’t have to explain himself to me.”

After everything I’d learned in the past few days, I had no doubt Brandon would have preferred a relationship without explanations, and Chelsea was just young enough to let him get away with it. “Of course not,” I said, and steered the conversation onto another subject. “I’ve heard rumors that Brandon was having trouble at the store. Is that true?”

Chelsea shot daggers at me. “What are you trying to do, Abby? Make Brandon look like the bad guy?”

“I’m just trying to find the truth. Is it true that some of your payroll checks bounced?”

She bent to untie Max’s leash. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“If you really believe that Brandon is innocent, then you have no reason not to tell me. Did some of your payroll checks bounce before Brandon died?”

She straightened slowly. She still didn’t look happy, but at least she wasn’t running. “A couple did,” she admitted. Her tone said it was no big deal, and if she and Brandon were together, maybe it was even true.

“Just a couple?”

“A few, okay? Where did you hear about that anyway? Brandon didn’t want anybody to know.”

“This is Paradise,” I reminded her. “There are no secrets around here.”

“Well, it was a temporary problem, and we all knew that. Brandon had some great stuff coming in, and he had plans to expand the store. Things would have gotten better. It always does around the holidays, anyway. He would have made it up to us eventually.”

Disappointment took some of the wind out of my sails. I guess I was still hoping that some of the bad things I’d heard about Brandon in the past few days would prove false. I wondered if she believe that Brandon would pay them, or if she just wanted to believe it. I couldn’t tell from the expression on her face. “Was he having any other kind of trouble? Was anyone mad at him? Did you hear him arguing with anyone or hear anyone threaten him?”

A sly expression stole across her face. “You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?”

Did I? I forced a nod. “I want the truth.”