Behind the Frame Page 10

  “You’re right.” He raised his glass. “To…new beginnings.”

  “New beginnings.” She clinked with him.

  The sun was kissing the horizon by the time they’d finished their picnic, the sky a brilliant palette of reds and pinks. Savanna sat next to him, facing the sunset, leaning lightly on the arm he’d propped behind her. His warmth transferred to her where they touched, shoulders, hips, the length of her leg against his. She bent one knee and dug her foot into the cooling sand.

  “You know that feeling?” Aidan spoke, his voice near her ear. “Where it seems like you’ve known someone forever, even though you just met?”

  A zing shot through her, from the middle of her chest to her throat. “Yes,” she said, watching the building waves, not moving.

  “And things are better, you feel more…whole…when you’re with them.”

  She looked at him. “And even when you’re not, just the idea of them makes you smile.”

  His face was inches from hers, the low light making his eyes dark and even more intense than usual. “Exactly.”

  Her heart might race right out of her chest. He was so close she could see the faint freckles across the bridge of his nose and the way his black lashes curved up at the corners. His lips were inches from hers.

  A loud whistle broke the spell between them. Savanna jumped, looking around. A large yellow dog was bounding down the beach toward them, tail flying and mouth wide open, biting at the waves, his owner jogging after him. The dog got closer, running straight at them, and it became obvious he had no interest in listening to his master. She whistled again, short and ear-piercing.

  “Norman!” The girl had picked up speed and was now at a full out run. “Nor-man!” Her shout was authoritative and no-nonsense, and had no effect on the dog.

  Norman sprinted the last few yards to them and leaped onto their blanket, wreaking havoc in every direction with his inquisitive nose and fluffy, wagging tail, and Savanna burst out laughing. She jumped up along with Aidan, giving the dog what he wanted—pets and scratches behind the ears and what was left of the sandwiches on the paper plates.

  “I’m so sorry!” The young girl finally caught up to her dog, breathing hard. She looked stricken. “Bad dog!” She reached out and caught him by the collar.

  “He’s not a bad dog,” Savanna said, smiling at the girl. She patted Norman’s head. “He couldn’t help it. That was the best joy run I’ve ever seen.”

  “Ugh! He doesn’t usually do that.” She was taking in the crumpled picnic blanket, overturned plates, and the two wine glasses now in the sand. “Really, I’m awfully sorry. We didn’t mean to ruin your picnic.” She clipped the leash onto Norman.

  “Nothing could ruin our picnic.” Aidan bent and began packing up. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Savanna helped him, waving back to the girl as she led Norman away. “Bye, Norman!” She carefully wrapped the wine glasses in their dish towels and handed them to Aidan. “Cute dog.”

  “Cute dog with terrible timing,” he said, looking down at her.

  “Really bad timing,” she agreed, pulling her sweater on and grabbing her shoes. The beach had gotten chilly when the sun had disappeared.

  “All right.” He slung the blanket over one arm, followed by the basket. “On to the second stage of the evening, then.” He held his hand out to her.

  She took it, loving her hand enclosed in his larger, warmer one. “There are stages? Nobody told me there would be stages. I’d have planned a wardrobe change.”

  He looked at her. “No need. You’re perfect.”

  He had a way of leaving her speechless.

  “Okay,” Aidan said, in the car on the same road back to Carson. “You have to tell me what’s been going on in town. My mother-in-law says Chef Joe was arrested? Does she have that right?”

  “She does. It’s crazy. Skylar got him released at his arraignment, but he’s on house arrest until it goes to trial—or until we can find out who really killed the councilman.”

  Aidan looked at her sharply. “We? You mean the police, right?”

  “Detective Jordan seems to believe he’s got the right man. I don’t know how he can think that!” Savanna huffed out the words in frustration. “The detective has dinner at Giuseppe’s just like the rest of Carson; he knows Chef Joe. He’s got to know he’s not capable!”

  “Yeah, I don’t believe it. But they found his chef’s knife at the scene, right? At least, that’s what Jean heard.”

  “That’s true too. But anyone could’ve taken that knife. Chef Joe and his staff were at the banquet the night before, and most of the town’s been in and out of his restaurant. His prints were on the knife,” Savanna admitted. “But Skylar says there were other prints too, though not full sets. The police can’t know for sure that it wasn’t someone else. Did you know Chef Joe’s sous chef is John Bellamy’s son? And Mia from Mitten Inn is his ex-wife?”

  Aidan was nodding. “I knew about Mia. I remember Remy from when he worked at Mitten Inn, after his mother opened it. I guess I didn’t realize he was back. I don’t think I’ve seen him yet at Giuseppe’s.”

  “How did you know about Mia and Remy at Mitten Inn?”

  He glanced sideways at her. “You were born and raised here, but you missed a decade or so. I’m in my seventh year here. Even when you try to avoid gossip in Carson, it finds you anyway. There were a lot of rumors flying around back when the inn opened. Remy was arrested for something that happened there—I’m not sure what. Mia defended him and tried to get his father involved, and it backfired on her. Bellamy made things worse, bringing up things that’d happened in his son’s past. Remy was eventually cleared of whatever the charges were, but not before the town had already tried and convicted him. I was brand-new, still figuring out how things worked here. I wasn’t surprised he left.”

  “Wow. That’s so horrible.” She tried to reconcile the John Bellamy she knew with a man who’d turn on his own son, and couldn’t; the thought of it made her heart feel heavy.

  “Are you thinking Remy got ahold of Chef Joe’s knife?”

  “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know what to think. We’ve been talking about possibilities, and it seems like the persona John presented to the public wasn’t exactly who he was. I think we have to look at who might’ve had a grudge against him. As far as I know, Chef Joe had nothing against John. But Remy sure could’ve. And Jack Carson thinks there was bad blood between John and the mayor, since John announced he was running, although it’s ridiculous to think Mayor Greenwood would resort to murder. Plus, I saw John having an argument the night of the banquet. There was something going on between him and one of the Art in the Park judges, and then this hotel owner from Grand Pier was yelling at him too; the reporter told me Grand Pier has hosted the last three festivals. I’m thinking maybe the hotel owner was angry—”

  “Savanna.” Aidan cut her off. “You’re getting yourself all tangled up in the middle of this? I think it’s under control. You said Skylar got Chef Joe released, at least until the trial. If he’s innocent, I’m sure Detective Jordan will figure that out.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Savanna said. “Without another lead, Chef Joe is the only suspect he’s got. We can’t just do nothing.”

  He frowned at her. “Have you thought about what happens if you’re right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If the real killer is still out there, and you’re poking around trying to find him, you’re in danger. Just like last year. I remember finding out you’d been chased and run off the road on the expressway. I want you safe.” The muscle in his jaw pulsed, twin frown lines etched between his eyebrows, and their car was speeding now.

  Savanna put a hand on his arm; his muscles were tensed. “Hey. It’s okay. Aidan, slow down.”

  He took his foot off the gas. “Sorry.”

 
“I remember too; I won’t let anything like that happen again, don’t worry. I’m not getting tangled in anything. I’m just asking some questions, talking to people I trust. Caroline, Jack, John’s secretary, you. I promise I’m not doing anything dangerous.” He gave her another quick sideways glance. “Maybe next week, you’d like to come with me for a drive up to Grand Pier. It’s a gorgeous trip, takes about an hour.”

  He cracked a smile and rolled his eyes. “You’re so transparent. Yes, I’ll definitely be checking out Grand Pier with you. Seems like there’s a hotel owner there we might end up chatting with.”

  She shrugged. “Could be. It crossed my mind that someone who was really upset at losing a big event for their town might try to sabotage it for the winning town. Maybe by vandalizing town landmarks. Or killing one of the organizers.”

  They were back in town again. Aidan shook his head. “So, you think possibly this guy from Grand Pier smashed our statue and murdered the councilman because he’s trying to ruin the festival you’re planning, and your great idea is to go have a talk with him?”

  “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds crazy and reckless.”

  He laughed and pulled the car into a parking space. “Let me help you. I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere. But promise me you’ll be careful. Please. Don’t follow any of these hunches without back up—me or one of your sisters or Nick Jordan.”

  “I promise. For real.” She looked up at the sign they’d just parked under. “Lickety Split? I love stage two!”

  They stood in line under the ice cream shop’s red awning with a handful of other people who’d had the same idea, despite the fact that it was already past ten. Lickety Split was Carson’s original ice cream establishment, having occupied this space in town for the last seventy-some years. It even provided free Pup Sundaes for patrons with dogs, a scoop of lactose-free ice cream topped with a dog biscuit. Savanna had forgotten all about that until right now, seeing it on the posted menu. She’d have to come back with Fonzie this summer.

  Aidan suddenly bumped into her as a pink blur slammed into his side; Mollie had her arms around his waist, hugging him tight and grinning up at him through white-blond bangs ineffectively held back by her signature bluebird barrettes. “Daddy!”

  “Hey, bunny!” He scooped her up, hugging her back. “What are you doing here? Where’s Uncle—”

  “Right here.” A voice came from Savanna’s left and she turned, finding herself face-to-face with the man Sydney had gotten so irritated with the other day. He wore a wide grin that could’ve passed for Aidan’s own. His eyes were as vividly green as Aidan’s were blue, rimmed with the same black lashes. He was slighter, though just as tall. Of course.

  “Finn.” Aidan looked at his brother and then at Savanna, setting Mollie down. “This is Savanna. Savanna, my brother Finn.”

  Finn held out a hand. “It’s my pleasure. I’ve heard a whole lot about you, Savanna.”

  She shook his hand. And I’ve heard almost nothing about you. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She gave Aidan a questioning look.

  “Didn’t I mention Finn was in town?” he asked. “I must’ve forgotten.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The evening didn’t end the way Savanna had imagined. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had imagined, but as soon as the four of them had finished their ice creams, Finn had left them at Lickety Split for some pressing engagement.

  Aidan pulled into Sydney’s driveway, and the moment the car was in park, Mollie unbuckled herself from her booster and hung over the front seat, looking first at Savanna and then at Aidan. Savanna had grown very fond of this little girl in the past several months; she loved seeing her smiling face twice each week in her art class. In keeping with Mollie’s love of rabbits, she’d gifted Savanna a Mrs. FluffyPants Teacher-Bunny earlier today, for the last day of school. She’d spent two weeks sculpting it and painting it, and then someone at home—Savanna wasn’t sure if it was Aidan or her grandmother Jean—had helped her add a bright-blue dress and a dollhouse-sized paintbrush and palette in one hand.

  Mollie tapped Savanna’s shoulder with one finger, and then did the same to her dad. “Uncle F-F-Finn says you’re on a date. Does that mean you kiss Ms. Shepherd goodbye, Daddy?”

  Savanna’s cheeks burned. And on the heels of that, she registered surprise at the little girl’s stutter; she’d only ever heard it in school, but never when Mollie was with Aidan. It must be the combination of this new circumstance, being in a car with her father and his potential date, whom she only knew as her art teacher.

  She met Aidan’s gaze, her eyes wide as she tried not to laugh. He looked stricken, like he had no idea how to answer his daughter. “Mollie,” she said softly. “Sometimes people might kiss if they’re on a date, if they really care about each other and they both want to. But sometimes people also like to hug goodbye, or shake hands too.” There. Pressure removed. She didn’t want her first kiss with Aidan to be with his seven-year-old daughter scrutinizing them. If they got a first kiss.

  “Oh.” Mollie looked disappointed, giving Savanna a boost of optimism; maybe the girl didn’t mind at all that they were dating.

  “On that note,” Aidan said, “I’ll walk you up.” He gave Savanna a half smile.

  She could feel Mollie watching them on Sydney’s porch. She stood a good three feet from him and clasped her hands behind her back, looking up at him. “So. Maybe we should shake hands then?”

  He laughed. “She spooked you, huh?”

  She threw her hands up in the air, laughing with him. “I don’t know how you do it. Being a parent must be the toughest job in the world.”

  He leaned in just a bit toward her. “You do know how I do it. You take care of how many kids on any given day? They love you. You’re a natural at it. And that?” He tipped his head toward the car where his daughter waited. “That couldn’t have been more perfect. You gave her a good answer.”

  “Thank you.” She loved the sound of his voice. Especially when he showered her with compliments.

  “I think,” he said, taking a step toward her, “a hug would be acceptable. It’s not going to scar her. What do you think?”

  “I agree.” This had to be the oddest end-of-date conversation she’d ever had.

  He moved into her space and wrapped his arms around her, his face turned into her hair. She hugged him back. Her cheek rested near his neck, and she could hear his heartbeat under her ear. She didn’t want him to ever let go.

  When he loosened his hold, she looked up at him, certain he must be able to hear her heartbeat too. He was a cardiologist. It was probably a good thing he couldn’t hear her heartbeat; he’d know the full extent of how she felt around him.

  “I had a great time with you, Savanna.” He ran one hand down her arm, taking her hand as they moved apart.

  She swallowed, hard. “Me too. I mean, with you.” She smiled. “Thank you for the picnic.”

  “It was my pleasure. I’ll call you.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  He turned and looked over his shoulder at her when he was halfway down the walk toward his car. “I’m sorry my brother’s clueless.” Even in the dark, she caught his aggravated expression and had to laugh.

  “It’s fine. He was very nice. And funny.” Aidan’s brother was certainly all right in Mollie’s eyes. The little girl had chattered to him about summer plans the whole time they’d finished their ice cream. He’d been nothing but nice to Savanna, asking her questions about Carson and her job. Other than leaving them abruptly with Mollie, Savanna didn’t see what Aidan’s issues were with him.

  “Finn is nice. And he’s always funny. But he’s also impulsive. I didn’t know he was here until a few hours ago when I got home. Anyway…” He walked backward toward the car. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Savanna and Britt Nash stood on John Bellamy’s front po
rch Saturday morning, waiting for Detective Jordan. As soon as they could collect all the art submissions from the councilman’s office, they’d cart everything back to Sydney’s house.

  A perk of being back home was getting to spend more time with Britt. They’d hit it off instantly in Chicago from their first meeting five years ago, when Kenilworth had contracted with Lansing’s Museum of Fine Art to bring him in for additional help on a particularly extensive acquisition. Since then, she and Britt crossed paths infrequently, once or twice a year. But they now had a standing lunch date every month, and Savanna counted him as one of her best friends.

  “I fully approve the vibe you’ve got going on today,” Savanna said, smiling up at him. Britt was tall and lanky; today’s white linen slacks and button-down floral print shirt were topped off with a white, wide-brimmed hat, and he made the ensemble look effortless and chic. “I feel like we should be in a cabana somewhere, holding tropical cocktails with little drink umbrellas and maraschino cherries.”

  “That’s just what I was going for.” He tapped the brim of his hat with a finger, gaze going to the driveway as Detective Jordan’s police cruiser rolled into the driveway.

  Nick Jordan joined them on the porch and reached up, removing the crime scene tape from the front door. “I appreciate your patience. I thought we’d get you access sooner, but I had to send the evidence tech back out on something, and it’s taken a while to get the house cleared.” He took a key from a small manila envelope and turned it in the lock, pushing the door open and moving out of Savanna’s way.

  She caught movement out of the corner of her eye as she stepped inside; an SUV sped past John’s house, blowing through the stop sign and turning onto the adjacent street much too fast. She glanced at Detective Jordan.

  His gaze was also on the car and he shook his head, groaning. “This is a residential street, twenty miles an hour. That’s a good way to kill someone, all so they can get somewhere a minute sooner.”