Death Loved A Woman (Happy Holloway Mystery Book 2) (3 page)

S
unlight dappled
the kitchen counter as Annie raised a hand to cover another yawn. She wiped her streaming eyes and tightened the belt on her robe. What to make for breakfast.

“Do you like pancakes?” she asked Flynn as he pulled a chair out from the table and dropped into it. “Or I can make scrambled eggs and bacon.”

Annie noted the stubble on his chin and the bareness of his chest as he hadn’t put his shirt on. Flynn managed to look just as handsome at the crack of dawn as he did any other time of day.

“Coffee is fine. I’m not hungry yet. Thanks.”

Annie frowned. She wished her stomach felt the same, but it had been rumbling since four in the morning, easy to do since she was awake at the time.

“Coffee it is.” She set the kettle on the electric base after filling it with water.

Flynn started. “Don’t tell me all you have is instant.”

“It tastes the same.”

He looked scandalized and then sighed. “No, it doesn’t, but I can’t be choosy. By the way, I’m surprised you’re using the living room.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve never used it from what I’ve seen. Am I wrong?”

“Observant as usual. No, you’re not wrong. The kids and I were in there last night before you came, and then of course you kept me up all night watching horror movies.”

Flynn yawned. “I seem to recall you reciting word for word at least a couple. It was very annoying.”

Annie flushed. “Sorry. I love horror movies. They don’t scare me.”

He grinned. “I’m kidding. I didn’t mind, and again, I had no room to complain since I invited myself over.”

She turned away and busied herself with mugs, sugar and cream. “Why did you come over? You said we’d catch a movie sometime. I didn’t realize you meant at my house.”

“I—” His cell phone rang, interrupting the conversation, and Annie was kind of glad for the delay. “Flynn here.”

Annie picked up the sound of a frantic voice but couldn’t make out what the person said.

“Calm down, BJ. I’m on my way.”

Barbara Jean. Annie should have known. So often Flynn disappeared telling her he had to take care of something, being vague. Shem told her it was because of his running behind Barbara Jean. Now the woman had taken to contacting him early in the morning.

Annie checked the time. Not yet six, but Flynn disconnected the call and stood. “I’m going to have to take a rain check on the coffee, unless you have one of those covered cups?”

Annie cringed. “They’re gross. So, no I don’t have one. What’s happening? Is everything okay?”

He hesitated. “Annie, get dressed. I want you to go with me.”

“Go with you where?”

“BJ has been arrested.”

“For?” She thought it would be something like reckless driving, drinking under the influence—being a pain in someone’s backside.

“Murder. The police think she poisoned Wesley.”

Annie gasped. “Wesley is dead?”

“Yes, get dressed!
Please.
”

Annie didn’t move, and then Flynn paled. He pushed both hands through his hair. “Crap, I’m sorry, Annie. I didn’t think. You just went through all this.”

“So did you. I’m fine. If you want me to go, I will.”

She had no idea why she was so calm, maybe because neither Wesley nor Barbara Jean had anything to do with her or her family. Perhaps it was because she was tired after not sleeping all night, and the reality of another murder would get to her later.

After a two minute shower where she skipped most of her routines, she dried off and dressed. A simple long-sleeved blouse and jeans with slide on sneakers, and she pulled a brush through her hair to join Flynn in his car.

“Do you know what happened?” she asked.

He remained quiet, gripping the steering wheel in a tight hold. His teeth clenched, he kept his eyes on the road as they sped along. Annie considered telling him to slow down but saw it wouldn’t do anything. Flynn was worried about the woman he must be still in love with.

A short while later, they arrived at the police station. The small building was hardly more than a couple rooms in Flynn’s town. The front lot might hold four cars normally, but she doubted it. As it was, Flynn had to park across the street in a donut shop’s lot. Talk about location.

A sleek black limo had been pulled across the entrance onto the police lot, and an officer argued with the driver, demanding he move it. Annie climbed out of Flynn’s car and had to jog to keep up with him.

She reached the entrance into the police station panting. Remembering she was there, he held the door for her, and she walked inside behind him. The station was packed with people.

“What in the world?” Annie muttered.

An older couple in their late sixties, maybe seventies stood together. The man wrapped an arm about the woman’s shoulders while she sobbed against his chest. After a moment, she raised her head and waved an arm with all the dramatic flair of an actress. “I want her charged right now, and I want bail denied!”

“Mrs. Witman, please calm down,” an officer urged her. “We’re going to do everything within our power to be sure this case is investigated thoroughly.”

The older man frowned. “You don’t need to investigate anything. We know she did it. That woman wanted my son’s money, and she killed him to try to get it. Well, she won’t have it. Not while there’s breath in my body.”

Annie gazed back and forth as the arguing continued. The chaos was nothing like what she had seen in Amberlon. Did they even have anyone in charge, and where was Barbara Jean?

A squat man with a bald head and thick mustache stepped forward in the middle of the fray. He couldn’t be above five feet, but when he shouted for everyone to shut up, they obeyed.

The man rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. He rested both hands atop the heavy belt at his waist, a gun in a holster on one side. “It’s too early in the morning for all this noise, and I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

“Sheriff Appleton.” The man Annie assumed was Wesley’s father released his wife and bore down on the sheriff. Annie tried to judge which man exuded more power and authority and had to go with Mr. Witman, but the sheriff didn’t appear to be cowed. “I know you understand how we feel. Our son has been lost.”

“Yes, and I’ve arrested Ms. Stanford for the time being,” the sheriff shot back. “So, I don’t understand why you and your family plus that unnecessary limo are all invading my station!”

Annie almost wanted to cheer.
Good for you, Apple. Don’t let them bully you.

“What I’d like to know is why you have arrested BJ.” When Flynn spoke, all eyes turned toward him. Annie noted the annoyance in Mr. and Mrs. Witman’s expressions and recognition in the sheriff’s. The sheriff didn’t appear to dislike Flynn as the detective in Amberlon seemed to.

“Frankly,” the sheriff began, “I arrested her partly for her protection, as you can see the reaction here. The outcry was worse at her apartment. Word travels fast in this town.”

“Well, you can release her,” Flynn said. “I’ll protect her.”

Annie gasped. The complaints rose again, and Annie searched the faces of all those present. She came across one man who looked a lot like Wesley. In fact, she could swear they were brothers. Same chocolate brown eyes, hawkish nose and small, narrow mouth; features Mr. Witman passed to them from the looks of it. Annie could see no resemblance to Mrs. Witman.

The man in question stood off to the side a little from his parents, leaning against a wall. From his bland expression, Annie wouldn’t guess his brother had just been murdered. She couldn’t help herself and spoke above the arguing.

“How do you know it was murder?”

Everyone stopped speaking and looked at her. She waited with raised brows for the sheriff to explain.

“Annie,” Flynn warned her.

She looked at the sheriff. “How?”

“I don’t know that it’s any of your business, young lady, but I suppose everyone else knows. It looked like he’s been poisoned. Coroner said he had all the hallmarks—foam around the mouth, discolored skin, vom—”

Mrs. Witman’s sobs cut him off, and he rushed to apologize.

“By Ms. Stanford’s own admission the last thing Wesley had was a dinner she made for him. Everything has been sent away to a lab for analysis. We’ll have the results back in a couple days.”

“A couple days?” Flynn said. “I’m sure you’re not going to keep BJ locked up for that long. I’ll post her bail.”

“That’s up to the judge to decide.”

“Genton?” Flynn eyed Mr. Witman, whose face cleared of anger the moment he heard the name. “I don’t believe BJ can get fair treatment if Genton presides.”

Now Flynn offended the sheriff. He drew himself up all of a quarter inch. “Judge Genton has been on the bench probably longer than you’ve been alive. The law states she can be held for forty-eight hours before seeing the judge.”

Flynn ground his teeth. “I know what the law says. I’m asking if she can see someone other than Genton.”

“Genton is an honest man, and a fine judge! He is also our
only
judge in Mars Cove.”

“And rumor has it he’s in a certain person’s pocket.” Flynn turned an angry glare toward Mr. Witman, and Annie moved closer to him.

“Flynn,” she whispered, “making the sheriff mad isn’t going to help you get Barbara Jean free.”

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Annie hoped he wouldn’t get so riled up he’d hit the sheriff or even Mr. Witman. She hadn’t missed the superiority that rolled off the older man and the satisfaction he displayed when he heard Genton’s name. Here was a man confident that he would get the decision he wanted out of Judge Genton.

Flynn rolled his shoulders and tried to calm down. “I still don’t understand why you jumped straight to the conclusion BJ is guilty. They were together and engaged. She has no motive.”

“There’s the money from his grandmother.” The young man in the corner was the one to speak first. He’d said
his
grandmother, Annie noted. Not
our
. Were they not related after all?

“Right,” Flynn agreed, “but Wesley hasn’t come into that inheritance yet. Even if BJ did want him for his money, she’d be stupid to kill him now.”

Several faces registered this fact with confusion.

The sheriff pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it over his head. “Except that Ms. Stanford claims she and Wesley were married three days ago.”

Flynn, Mr. Witman, Mrs. Witman and the possible brother all paled, eyes widening in shock.

“What was that?” the young man demanded.

The sheriff scowled at him. “I said, Barbara Jean claims she married Wesley three days ago. I’ll be contacting the county clerk when that office opens later this morning to see if a license has been issued. Unfortunately, Ms. Stanford couldn’t find the marriage license to show it to me.”

No one spoke for a few minutes, and then the young man burst out laughing.

“Mark, stop laughing this instant,” Mrs. Witman demanded.

He stopped, but the grin remained on his face. “Wesley didn’t marry her, but she’s trying to claim he did so she can get the money. That’s funny. Did she think she could get it without showing any proof?”

“It would be better for her if she didn’t marry him,” Flynn muttered.

Annie’s heart constricted on Flynn’s behalf. Obviously from his reaction, the same as everyone else’s, he didn’t know Barbara Jean married Wesley. That is, if she did and she wasn’t just saying so. Flynn cared about the woman who didn’t deserve his love.

After their conversation outside the firehouse, Annie couldn’t say she knew Barbara Jean very well. Barbara Jean came across as an opportunistic type. Annie would never again assume a person wouldn’t kill. What she thought she knew was proven wrong in the last few months.

If Barbara Jean married Wesley, she had motive to kill him. Was she silly enough to do it days after they were married and leave herself open to being accused? That was another story.

Sheriff Appleton swung to face Flynn. He appeared not to have slept any better than Annie did the night before, with his red eyes and heavy bags under them. “Flynn Aikens. Everyone knows you’ve had a on and off relationship with Ms. Stanford for years.”

Flynn reddened. “Yeah, so?”

“So, where were you last night?”

Flynn folded his arms over his chest. “Is that when he died?”

“I’m asking the questions here,” the sheriff snapped.

“I was…” Flynn hesitated and looked at Annie. She nodded. “I was with Annie.”

“Annie?”

Flynn indicated Annie at his side. “This is Annie Holloway, a friend.”

The sheriff studied Annie with piercing eyes. She had the feeling he was cleverer than Detective Lawson back in Amberlon. Before long, he would get to the bottom of who killed Wesley, and she could stay out of it.

“You were with her all night?” the sheriff demanded.

Annie colored. Normally, she didn’t mind being the center of attention. In this case, with everyone thinking what she knew they were, a hint of embarrassment washed over her. If she shouted out that all they did was watch old movies, she’d sound like a teenager.

“Yes, all night,” Flynn said. She peeked at his face and saw no such shame. Flynn didn’t care what conclusions they all came to. At least he wasn’t ashamed the sheriff and everyone present thought they had
that
type of friendship.

“Wow, wonder what Barbara Jean will think when she hears,” Mark teased.

“Shut your mouth, Mark.” Flynn gritted his teeth. “Before I shut it for you.”

Annie’s own mouth fell open. She’d never seen Flynn so upset, but then she realized while there was no love lost between him and Wesley, he had just lost his cousin to murder. Death surrounded him and those he cared about. Annie felt the same.

“If there’s nothing else, I’d like to see BJ,” Flynn said.

The sheriff shook his head. “Not before she sees the magistrate. Sorry, Flynn. You’ll have to wait. I might also have some more questions after I clear this place out. I’ll be in touch.”

The sheriff’s words were a dismissal for everyone. Flynn and Wesley’s family stood where they were. Then Flynn swung on his heel and shoved the door open so hard, it banged the outside brick wall, and the glass trembled. Annie followed him in silence.