Cut to the Corpse (25 page)

“Pardon?” she asked. She surely hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Bayview,” he said. “I think you should come back with me. You could have some rest and relaxation by the beach, get away from the situation here, and basically stay out of harm’s way.”

“
Harm
being a murderer?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have to be honest, Brenna, I don’t like this.”

“You should try wearing the headdress,” she said. “You’d like it even less.”

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Dom said. He leaned forward and kissed the side of her forehead not covered in gauze.

Someone coughed. It was the fake sort of clearing of the throat that alerted you that you were about to be interrupted. They broke apart, Brenna with more haste than Dom.

She turned to find Nate standing in the doorway with Portia.

“Portia said she could change your bandage now, if you’d like,” Nate said. His gaze moved to Dom, and he said, “Sorry to interrupt.”

Brenna wondered if it was just her imagination, but he didn’t sound one bit sorry. Portia moved past both men and came to stand in front of Brenna. She plopped a steel first aid kit on the bed beside her and popped the latches.

“It’s okay,” Dom said. Then he grinned. “We’re just figuring out the logistics of Brenna’s coming to Bayview with me. I think it would be best to get here out of here for a while.”

Nate’s gray eyes darted from Dom to Brenna. He studied her for a moment with his usual laser-like scrutiny. He watched Portia unwind the bandages from around Brenna’s head, then he turned back to Dom and said, “I think that would be for the best.”

With that, he left, and Brenna was stuck trying to decide which man she wanted to slap more.

It took her an hour to convince Dom that she wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t happy, but when Tenley offered to bunk with her for the night, which made Matt unhappy, there really wasn’t much more anyone could say.

Brenna ate some of the potato chowder Twyla brought over, and after reassuring everyone that she was fine, she left it to Tenley to shoo them all away while she went back to bed.

She slept through until morning, and aside from the goose egg on the side of her head, covered by a much smaller bandage from Portia, she almost felt normal again.

Refusing to sit around her cabin like a useless lump, Brenna insisted on going into work with Tenley, who didn’t approve but was smart enough not to say so.

Halfway through the day, Brenna wondered if perhaps she should have stayed home. The bells on the door were an incessant jangle, to the point where she and Tenley stopped looking up when they rang.

Brenna had been afraid that in the aftermath of the attack, she would begin to twitch at the slightest movement around her. She desperately didn’t want to become the timid mouse she had been after the burglary in Boston. She shouldn’t have worried. It was virtually impossible to be nervous as she was never ever alone.

In fact, if one more person stopped by the shop to ask how she felt, she was going to take the cigar box she was working on as a demo for her class into the bathroom to finish it in solitude.

The Fife and Drum sold cigars in the bar, and Matt had been saving the wrapper labels for Brenna for months. He’d also donated several empty cigar boxes. Brenna had hoped to use them in her class tonight, but it wasn’t going to go very well if she couldn’t finish her project.

She had flattened the ring shaped wrappers in a flower press, making them easier to apply. Using white glue, she applied the labels around the edge of the box. It wasn’t as finished as she would have liked, but her students were getting pretty savvy, so perhaps it was enough to give them a starting place.

“I’m partial to a good Havana myself,” a voice spoke from behind her.

Brenna turned to find Nate smiling down at her.

“Hi,” she said. “What brings you here? Don’t tell me you’re going to sign up for my class.”

“I will if it’s the only way to keep an eye on you,” he said. He was smiling, but she got the feeling he was serious.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. She patted her new bandage. “See? I’ve even been downsized to only slightly lumpy.”

He glanced up and she followed his gaze and noticed the entire shop had gone still. The Porter sisters in particular were leaning close, trying to hear their conversation without being too obvious.

“How about some fresh air?” he asked.

“I’d like that,” she said. “Let me just put away my project.”

Nate waited by the door while Brenna put her box on a nearby shelf to dry. Tenley met her at the table and said, “You go. I’ll finish up.”

“Thanks,” Brenna said. She ignored the whispers that followed her as Nate held the door for her and they made their escape.

“You never learn, do you?” she asked.

“What?”

“The gossips are going to go mental over this,” she said.

“Does that bother you?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I’m getting used to it.”

“Me, too,” he said.

They walked in silence, and Brenna was pleased to discover that it was comfortable. Apparently, they didn’t need to talk baseball to be at ease with each other.

The steady cadence of mallets pounding tent spikes filled the air. The town green was being set up for the Morse Point Women’s Auxiliary rummage sale. Brenna was looking forward to the annual event. Last year she had scored a wooden bench that she had decorated with paper cutouts of tulips and then finished with a beaded fringe around the bottom edge. Lillian had bought it to put in the reading nook in the library, and Brenna always felt a lift when she saw someone sitting on her bench. She hoped to find something like that tomorrow. With Betty Cartwright’s hope chest done, she needed a new project to challenge her imagination.

As she and Nate sat on a vacant park bench, she spotted Jake and John Haywood setting up the booths on the green with several other men, including Tyler Montgomery. Brenna waved at them and all three waved back.

“How are you feeling?” Nate asked. “And tell me the truth. I don’t want any of that brave soldier stuff.”

“I’m much better,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt as much when I walk. I’ve had no headaches or blurry vision. The bump only hurts when I touch it, so of course I have to keep poking it, so I can tell myself, yup, still hurts.”

He grinned, and Brenna suspected he’d done the same thing with his own boo-boos in the past.

“So, I was wondering . . .” His voice trailed off, and Brenna said, “Yes?”

“Why didn’t you go to Bayview with Dom?”

He looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t stand not knowing even more. Brenna knew exactly how he felt.

“I’m not running away from my life here,” she said. “It’s a good life and I’m happy.”

“It’s dangerous for you to be here,” he said. “Dom can’t be happy about that.”

Brenna shrugged. She supposed she could tell him that she and Dom were just friends, but she wasn’t sure if that’s what he was asking, and she didn’t want to make an idiot of herself by assuming. Besides, she really wasn’t sure what the future held for her and Dom. He certainly seemed willing to wait for her to figure it out, and maybe when she did, it would be him that she chose.

She wasn’t one to let an opportunity pass by, however, so she turned to him and said, “I’ve got one for you now.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Why did you go to Connecticut?”

His eyebrows rose and he turned to study her. A small smile played on his lips as if he was pleased by her question.

“It was my mother’s birthday,” he said. “She lives on the shore in Noank so my brother and I went for the weekend.”

No girlfriend! No romantic tryst with another woman!
Brenna resisted the urge to jump up and down, knowing it would hurt her head and she’d embarrass herself, but inside she was tap dancing.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked her.

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” she asked.

“It is,” he agreed.

Nate treated her to a latte to-go and brought her back to Vintage Papers. Ella and Marie were pressed against the front glass, waiting for her. They scrambled away as soon as she opened the door and she turned and smiled at Nate.

“Told you so,” she said.

“Maybe we should give them something to talk about,” he said and winked at her.

Brenna felt her mouth slide open in surprise but anything she might have said was interrupted by Tara, who came banging out of the open door and grabbed her in a bear hug that about crushed her.

“Oh, Brenna, you’re here. I’ve been so worried,” she said.

“There’s no need. I’m tougher than I look.”

She glanced over Tara’s head at Nate. What had he meant by that wink? Oh, if only Tara had been a couple of seconds slower.
Nuts!

He smiled at her and waved good-bye. Brenna waved back, feeling acutely frustrated to see him go, but knowing she couldn’t exactly call him back.

“The class is waiting for you,” Tara said. “Sarah brought scones and Tenley made tea. You should get off your feet.”

Brenna let Tara lead her into the shop. Her class was assembled and ready to go. She noticed the surreptitious glances they gave her as if checking to see if she was about to faint.

It felt good to have the concern of so many people. Although she’d only lived in Morse Point for two years, it was beginning to feel more like home than any other place she’d ever lived. Brenna felt lucky to be so accepted by these people and this community.

She spent the class working with each of her students individually. She helped Sarah get her labels laid out just right, and she listened to Lillian’s latest stories about her boys. She navigated a dispute between the Porter sisters over how much glue to use, and finally, she checked on Margie Haywood, who had spent half of the class at the window, overseeing the setup of the booths for tomorrow.

Unfortunately, Margie’s cigar box looked like a beginner’s. The labels had too much glue and they were uneven.

“Are you okay, Margie?” Brenna asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Margie said with a brave smile. “I just haven’t been sleeping what with all that’s been happening and the women’s auxiliary to top it off. Maybe I should try this again when I can give it my undivided attention.”

“I have a million of those sorts of pieces,” Brenna said. “I used to be stubborn and try to force it, but I’ve found it’s better to walk away and come back to a piece that’s being difficult. Sort of like doing a crossword puzzle. If you put it down and pick it back up later all of a sudden, the answers just come.”

“Thank you, dear,” Margie said and patted her hand. “You’re being very kind. Now enough about silly old me, how are you feeling?”

“Better every day,” Brenna said. “Especially, because I feel certain that it is just a matter of time before Clue’s killer is caught.”

“I’m sure you’re right, dear,” Margie said, but she looked at her with grave concern, making Brenna think she didn’t really believe Clue’s killer would ever be caught. But perhaps as the mother of the chief suspect, she just couldn’t let herself believe it until it happened and her son was safe.

“Are you making yours for your future husband?” Ella Porter asked Tara.

“Yes.” Tara beamed with pleasure.

She had done a wonderful job of trimming her labels into sharp edged stars and putting them together so that they resembled a star patterned quilt. Brenna was impressed with her eye for color and detail.

The bells on the door handle jangled, and Jake walked in. He surveyed the room until he found Tara and then he crooked a finger at her. She flew across the room and into his arms. A collective sigh was emitted from the women gathered, including Brenna.

Jake took Tara by the hand and approached his mother. “Dad says it’s okay with him, but we have to ask my mom,” he said to Tara as they circled the table.

Margie looked up at their approach and gave them a small smile.

“I thought you were helping your dad,” she said.

“I was, but I need to ask you something,” Jake said.

“I’m all ears,” Margie said. She glanced around the room as all motion had stopped. “Shall we go outside?”

“No, I know you’re going to approve,” he said. He was grinning from ear to ear like he’d just won the lottery.

Maybe he had. Maybe the chief had found the real murderer. Brenna leaned closer. She was getting as bad as the Porter sisters.

“Mom, Tara and I are getting married,” he said.

“I know, dear,” Margie said. She looked at him as if he were being silly.

“No, I mean we’re getting married tomorrow,” he said.

Margie’s eyes went wide and her mouth popped open, but no sound came out.

“I know it seems sudden, but we know what we want. We’re going to have a small ceremony at city hall, and we’re putting a down payment on a small house over on First Street.”

“Jake, this is so sudden,” Margie said. “I mean, there’s still a murder investigation going on and we don’t know what’s going to happen . . .”

Jake waited until she wound down, then he looped his arm about Tara’s shoulders and pulled her close.

“I know that either of us could be tried for Clue’s murder,” he said. “We both know that, but we talked about it and we know we’re innocent. We think that getting married and buying a house is the strongest act of optimism that we can make to show that we believe in us, for now and forever.”

Tara beamed at Jake, and he leaned down and kissed her. A collective swoon swept through the room, and Brenna saw Tenley surreptitiously wipe the corner of her eye.

Margie’s hand fluttered around her throat as if she didn’t know what to say. When Jake and Tara parted and turned to look at her, she raised her hands in helpless surrender and pulled them both close for a hug.