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Authors: Lucy Lawrence

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BOOK: Cut to the Corpse
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What they lacked in finesse they made up for in sheer determination. As they wailed away at “The Saints Go Marching In” a troupe of little girls hopped up and danced in front of the gazebo, twirling their pretty dresses until they fell down, dizzy and giggling. It was impossible not to smile, and Brenna noticed even Tyler Montgomery tapping his foot on the downbeat.
The band played for an hour and ended their show with a rousing rendition of John Philip Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever.” For their effort, they got a standing ovation from the crowd and free funnel cake.
Tenley and Brenna were shaking out their blanket when Maya Hopper approached.
“I can’t believe you’d bring her here,” Maya hissed.
Tenley raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at Maya in a spot-on impression of her mother. Tenley’s mother could wilt a person with a look from fifty paces.
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Tenley said. Meaning, of course, that if Maya had a brain in her head, she would back away now before Tenley shredded her like a sheet of inferior paper.
The Porter sisters appeared out of the crowd and edged close to Brenna, one on each side, so as not to miss a word of the scene.
“Maya has an ulterior motive,” Marie whispered from behind her cup of watermelon ice.
“She used to go out with Jake, but then he dumped her for Tara,” Ella said around a mouthful of funnel cake.
“She’s a murderer,” Maya said. As if aware that all eyes were upon her, she tossed her brown black hair over her shoulders and cranked up the melodrama a notch by proclaiming, “You will pay for what you’ve done, Tara Montgomery, and not with your daddy’s money.”
The Montgomerys stepped forward to shield Tara, but she held out her arms, stopping them.
“No, I’m all right,” she said. “She’s only saying what everyone else is thinking.”
Her eyes searched the crowd, and Brenna knew she was looking for Jake. He stepped forward, pushing past Maya.
“I don’t think that,” he said.
Tara gave him a faint, hopeful smile.
Turning his back to her and facing the crowd, he cleared his throat and said in a voice that was low but no less forceful, “Tara Montgomery is innocent. She is one of the kindest people I have ever known, and I know that she didn’t harm my friend. If anyone has a problem with that, you can take it up with me.”
A low murmur moved across the lawn.
“You’re a fool, Jake Haywood,” Maya snapped. She spun on her heel and made her way through the crowd. When Bart Thompson didn’t move fast enough, she knocked his Italian ice into his tie-dyed shirt, leaving him to gasp and stutter while hopping from foot to foot from the sudden blast of cold. Maya didn’t stop to apologize.
Brenna met Tenley’s gaze and raised her eyebrows as if to say, Another suspect? Tenley gave her a small nod of understanding.
The crowd dispersed, and when Jake would have left, Tara stepped forward and grabbed his arm. He didn’t meet her gaze but stared down at her hand on his elbow.
“Jake.” She said his name with a voice full of hope. “Thank you.”
He finally glanced up at her. He took her hand off of his arm and said, “Just because I don’t think you killed him, doesn’t mean that I believe you didn’t sleep with him.”
Tara stepped back from him, looking as if she’d been slapped.
Jake looked sick to his stomach. “Why was he in your bed, Tara? Why?”
Her eyes filled with tears and her voice cracked when she said, “I don’t know.”
Jake turned away and stomped across the park toward the Haywood garage.
Tara broke down into sobs. Brenna, Tenley, and the Montgomerys all took a step in her direction but Margie Haywood beat them to it. She pulled Tara into her arms and let her cry on her shoulder while she patted her back just like she did the kids at Morse Point Elementary when they got a boo-boo.
“There there,” she said. “It’ll be all right.”
“But he thinks . . .” Tara’s voice trailed off as she dissolved into sobs.
“I know,” Margie said. She glanced at the Montgomerys over Tara’s head and a look of understanding passed between them. “I’m sorry to say this, but if Jake doesn’t believe you, what kind of a life will you have together? Maybe, honey, it’s all for the best.”
“But I love him and he loves me,” Tara sobbed.
Brenna felt her own throat get tight, and she glanced at Tenley, who looked choked up as well. The Porter sisters were huddled together and had tears running down their cheeks. Marie gave a healthy blast into her handkerchief.
“Give it some time,” Margie said. “Just give it some time.”
“Thank you,” Tara said as she stepped back from Margie. “But I don’t want time. I want Jake.”
With a sob, she dashed off across the green. Tyler and Tiffany exchanged a glance and bolted after her.
Tenley put her hand on Margie’s arm. “That was nice of you.”
“It’s that nursing thing,” Margie said with a wave of her hand. “I hate to see anyone suffering.”
“How is Jake holding up?” Brenna asked as she joined them.
“Oh, you know Jake,” she said. Her forehead creased with a line of maternal worry, probably deeper now than it had ever been before. “He’s the strong silent type, like his father. I’m trying to protect him as best I can, but it’s hard when they grow up.”
“Has Chief Barker been to see him?” Brenna asked. Tenley shot her a look, but Brenna kept her eyes on Margie.
“Several times,” Margie said. “It’s a bad business, Clue being found in bed with his fiancée, but both Mr. Haywood and I can vouch for Jake’s whereabouts. He was home with us all night.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Marie said as she joined their little group.
“Everyone knows Jake would never harm a fly,” Ella said.
Margie gave them a closed-lipped smile, and Brenna could tell that she was still worried about her son and would be until the murderer was caught.
“If you need anything,” Tenley said, “you let us know.”
“Thank you, dear,” Margie said. With a small wave she turned and followed in the wake of her son.
“Poor thing,” Ella said. “The sun rises and sets on that boy of hers. This has got to be killing her and John.”
Marie raised her eyebrows at her sister.
“Oh, sorry, poor choice of words,” Ella said.
“I’ll say,” Marie said. “You know who young Tara reminds me of?”
“Who?” Ella asked.
“Me,” Marie said in a voice that cracked with emotion. “In fact, her love for Jake is so very much like my love for John Henry.”
Ella rolled her eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake! John Henry thought you were me.”
“He did not,” Marie argued. “We were tragic lovers like Romeo and Juliet. I . . .”
Whatever Marie had been about to say was cut off by Ella shoving a piece of funnel cake in her mouth.
“There,” Ella said. “That’s better.”
Marie looked outraged as she furiously chewed. Brenna and Tenley had to turn away before they burst out laughing.
“See you at the shop,” Brenna called, without waiting for an answer.
The crowd had thinned. Most people were standing in clumps, catching up on each other’s lives while their children ran amuck.
Brenna dodged a redheaded girl chasing the middle Page boy, recognizable as one of Lillian’s by his shock of unruly black hair and glasses. The girl giving chase was wearing a tiara and brandishing a wand with a sparkly star on the end.
“I turned you into a frog!” she was yelling. “You have to stop and let me kiss you now.”
The look the Page boy cast over his shoulder was one of sheer terror and he picked up his pace to a flat-out run. Brenna made a mental note to tell Lillian at their next decoupage class that as far as girls went, her boys, at least this one, were safely immune.
Tenley nudged Brenna with her elbow and pointed across the street. Standing in front of Vintage Papers, having an intense discussion, were the Montgomerys and Chief Barker.
“Oh!” Brenna glanced both ways and then dashed across the street with Tenley right behind her.
They were just stepping onto the walk, when Mr. Montgomery started to yell. “We have been more than cooperative! Now I demand that you let us take our daughter back to Boston, where she won’t be forced to suffer such humiliation.”
“I appreciate that this has been difficult,” Chief Barker said. His voice was low and soothing, his Massachusetts accent subdued, and Brenna suspected he was trying to calm Mr. Montgomery down. “But I’m afraid Tara is still a suspect, and until we can determine exactly what happened that night, she will need to remain in town.”
“This is ludicrous!” Mr. Montgomery railed. “Her bridesmaids have all been allowed to leave. There’s no reason Tara should still be here. You’ll be hearing from my attorney in the morning, and if you don’t let us leave this godforsaken backwater, then I will sue you—in fact, I’ll sue this whole bloody town!”
He took both Tara and Tiffany by their elbows and led them down the street toward the Morse Point Inn. A hush filled Main Street as people watched them go.
“Well, that’s not going to make them any friends,” Tenley said, and Brenna could tell she was miffed on behalf of her town.
“He’s upset,” Brenna said.
“You think?” Chief Barker asked.
She felt Chief Barker’s gaze upon her face and turned to face him. She wondered if this was where she got her “stop being a buttinsky” lecture.
“Did Nate talk to you?” he asked. He ran his thumb and forefinger over his thick gray mustache in a manner-ism Brenna recognized as one he made when he was striving for patience.
“Yes, he did,” she said.
“And?”
“And I understand completely,” she said. She wondered if she was being vague enough.
Tenley was glancing between them as if she were trying to figure out what they were talking about but didn’t want to be rude by asking.
“It’s for your own safety,” he said.
“I know,” she said.
“I’m glad we’ve reached this agreement.”
He smiled at her and Brenna suddenly knew exactly what Mrs. Barker saw in him. His grin was engaging and a little bit mischievous.
“Have a good night, ladies,” he said. He tipped the brim of his gray, wide-brimmed hat with the Morse Point police logo on the front and walked down the sidewalk toward the Haywood garage.
As Tenley unlocked the front door to Vintage Papers, she frowned at Brenna and asked, “What was that all about?”
“Me staying out of the murder case,” Brenna said.
Tenley just looked at her.
“Yeah, I know,” Brenna said. “You’ll notice I made no promises.”
“Uh-huh,” Tenley said. “Very clever.”
Brenna noted her sarcasm, but let it pass. “You know what I keep thinking about?”
“I’m afraid to ask,” Tenley said. They locked the front door behind them and went into the break room at the back of the shop where they had stored their purses.
Tenley opened the cupboard and pulled out both bags, handing Brenna hers and shouldering her own.
“When Jake asked Tara why Clue was in her bed, she genuinely didn’t have a clue.”
“Ugh. How long have you been waiting to say that?” Tenley asked her.
“A couple of days,” Brenna admitted.
“You have a dark side,” Tenley said, but she was smiling.
“I know, forgive me,” she said as they stepped out the back door. They had parked behind the shop to give others more room to park on the street.
“So, what is going through that brain of yours now?”
“What if we could get Tara to remember what happened that night?”
Tenley’s eyes went wide. “Don’t you think she’s tried?”
“Yes, with no success. At the concert, I heard Tiffany and Tyler talking about hiring someone to put her through hypnosis.”
“That might work,” Tenley said, but she sounded as dubious as Brenna felt.
“What if she retraces her steps? We could take her back through the events of that night and maybe she’d remember a few details.”
“You could be on to something,” Tenley said.
“So,” Brenna said with a grin. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Going out with the girls, apparently.”
Chapter 14
Brenna called Tara and she eagerly agreed to give it a try. Brenna could tell by her tone of voice that she was desperate to remember what happened that night. They agreed to meet up at Vintage Papers that evening. In the meantime, Brenna had decided to pop in on Lisa Sutton’s family and see if they could tell her anything about the girl’s whereabouts. She knew it was a long shot, but maybe Lisa knew something about Clue that would help them out.
The Sutton residence was in a planned community called Chestnut Hill on the west side of town. Built in the 1970s, this collection of raised ranches was a mini neighborhood unto itself.
In the center was Chestnut Hill Park, with a huge play-ground, basketball and tennis courts, and a field big enough for soccer games. The houses spread out from around the park in a circular pattern, and after driving around and doubling back a few times, Brenna found the Sutton home.
BOOK: Cut to the Corpse
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