Behind the Frame Read online

  “Dad.” That SUV. The one that’d raced down her parents’ quiet street earlier today when she’d come out to get the berries—it looked like the car that had sped past the councilman’s house. What if it was? “What if someone’s watching me, following me?” She told him what had happened at John’s.

  “You think it was the same car?”

  “I don’t know. It’s probably crazy to think that.”

  Detective Jordan’s black-and-white police cruiser pulled into the driveway.

  Savanna met him at her car, Harlan right behind her. The detective looked strange like this, in jeans and a Detroit Pistons T-shirt. She felt bad for dragging him away from his relaxing Sunday.

  “Did you see anything? Hear anything at all?”

  She told him about the car. “What if it was the same one we saw on John’s street yesterday morning? I think it could’ve been. They were both gray.”

  He didn’t answer, instead pulling out a notepad and jotting notes as he walked around her car.

  “Okay, I know there are lots of gray SUVs,” she went on. “But they were both speeding on quiet residential streets where I happened to be, two days in a row. What if someone thinks I’m getting too close to whatever happened to John?”

  He shot her a sharp look. “If someone’s targeting you for poking into things better left to the police, the safest thing to do is to leave those things to us.”

  Harlan spoke up behind Savanna. “Explain to us exactly how collecting artwork from the councilman’s house and then having a family dinner is poking into things she shouldn’t be, Detective.”

  Savanna didn’t have to look back at her dad to know he was angry. “Detective,” she said, making her voice polite but no-nonsense; she didn’t need Nick Jordan and her father fighting on the front lawn. “What now? I’ll have to take the car in for new tires.” She cringed. Four new tires wouldn’t be cheap, even with insurance.

  He finished typing something into his phone and looked at her. “My evidence tech is on his way here. We’ll have to collect what we can before you can do anything with the car. But it looks like you’ve got plenty of help in terms of getting where you need to be?” His gaze rose to Harlan.

  “What are you going to do to make sure she’s safe?”

  “I’m not thinking she’s in danger. If someone wanted to hurt her, they wouldn’t have stopped at the tires,” the detective said.

  “That’s some weak reasoning.”

  “Okay,” Savanna said. The two of them were making her nervous. “I’ll be fine.” She looked up at her dad. “Don’t worry. Syd will drive me home, and I can come back for my car tomorrow. You can pull around me to get out, can’t you, Dad?” She pointed at Harlan’s truck.

  The muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I’ll follow you two back to Sydney’s house and stay there tonight. And I’ll bring you your car with new tires tomorrow.” His gaze went to the detective, and Savanna had no doubt the evidence collection would be wrapped up in plenty of time for Harlan to do exactly what he said. She loved her dad like crazy, but he’d always been able to wield that intimidating edge effortlessly.

  Savanna lay in bed, wide awake, for much too long that night. Was someone watching her? Following her? If John’s killer had come back to the house to retrieve something from that safe, they would’ve been nervous seeing her enter the house accompanied by Detective Jordan. If someone thought she knew too much, they were wrong. She still had no idea who killed John Bellamy.

  When the hundredth glance at her clock told her it was 1:12 a.m., she huffed out a sigh, flipped the clock face down on her nightstand, and turned over in bed. At least she didn’t have to get up for school in the morning.

  Savanna’s eyes snapped open at the crack of dawn. Fonzie was snuggled up against her feet, and he grumbled as she climbed out of bed. So much for sleeping in. It was probably going to take her the first month of summer vacation just to override her internal alarm.

  She pulled on jeans and the T-shirt Sydney had given her last Christmas, bearing the words Hogwarts wasn’t hiring, so I teach Muggles instead. She wore it too often, she knew, but it was her favorite. She tiptoed out to the kitchen to feed Fonzie and found Harlan already up and drinking coffee at the kitchen counter.

  “You know that’s decaf, right?” She poured herself a glass of orange juice and stood across from him.

  “I know,” he grumbled. “How’d you sleep?”

  “So-so,” she said honestly. “I’m going to grab coffee at the corner. Should I bring you one?”

  Harlan stood. “I’ll walk with you.”

  “Dad. I’ll be on Main Street—it’s a block away, and people are already out and about. I’ll be okay.”

  He stared down at her intently. “You’ve got that pepper spray I gave you in Chicago?”

  She smiled. “I do. I’ll bring it, okay? I won’t be long, just coffee and a quick walk. Do you want anything with yours? Maybe a bagel?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll make breakfast.” He opened the refrigerator. “Take your dog with you.”

  The coffee shop was bustling, even in the pinkish light of dawn. She hooked Fonzie’s leash to the bicycle rack in front, bending to scratch his chin. “I’ll be right back. Be good!”

  Inside, waiting for her mocha latte with an espresso shot and her dad’s black coffee, she spotted Yvonne through the window bending to pet Fonzie. Yvonne’s tiny chihuahua wiggled and wagged as the dogs greeted one another. The barista handed Savanna the cup holder with two steaming cups and she went outside, joining Yvonne.

  “Are you getting coffee? I can stay with this little guy if you want.”

  Yvonne nodded. “Oh, that’d be great. Thank you! Mayor Greenwood has me doing his running this morning, and he starts much earlier than John did. I’ve still got to drop Goliath off at home and then head in.”

  “What?” Savanna frowned. “What about the mayor’s assistant?”

  “Janice quit. She just quit!” Yvonne was wide-eyed, shaking her head. “She didn’t even give notice, and right in the middle of the Better Living negotiations. I even had to work Saturday for Mayor Greenwood. Would you believe he made me take his car to the shop so they could add windshield wiper fluid? Like that’s in my job description? They need to find a replacement, or else give me a big raise! The new councilwoman starts today, I can’t do both jobs. I wanted to take a few days off.” She looked close to tears.

  “Oh my gosh. That’s ridiculous. And windshield wiper fluid? Why can’t he do that himself? I’m so sorry.” Savanna gave Yvonne’s arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Go, get your coffee.”

  Savanna took a seat at one of the small iron tables, letting the dogs prance in circles around her feet as she took turns petting them. She was surprised to hear about Janice. The mayor’s assistant had been a little brisk, but she’d appeared efficient, and Savanna had thought it was nice Yvonne considered her a friend, especially having to work in such close proximity.

  When Yvonne came back out, she had a carrier with three cups and a brown paper bag. She seemed calmer. “I’m sorry, I know I’m grouchy. I don’t mean to be.” She took Goliath’s leash from Savanna.

  Savanna put a hand on the woman’s arm. “Maybe you need to ask the mayor what the plan is for replacing Janice. I doubt he’d want to lose another employee.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. I’ll ask him. I’m waiting for Janice to call me back. She was behind closed doors with him Friday afternoon, and then she just cleared out her desk and left without a word.” Her phone rang from her purse. “I’ve got to run. Hey, enjoy your first day of summer break!”

  Savanna sipped the chocolatey goodness in her cup and let Fonzie lead her to the park. She followed the curving sidewalk through century-old trees toward the expansive green lawn. The area was deserted but for a man and a fluffy collie at the other side, walking near the trail to the du
nes of Lake Michigan.

  She sat at one of the park picnic tables and stared up at the twelve-foot statue of Jessamina Carson. Scaffolding had been set up around her, and her head was now reattached, albeit roughly and in need of refinishing. She hoped Jessamina would be restored by the time the festival rolled around a week and a half from now.

  The hands of the tall town clock above the gazebo displayed the time: eight a.m. Savanna pulled a plain black-and-white business card from her back pocket and stared at it. Was eight on a Monday morning too early to call? Landon King, journalist, Allegan County newspaper was followed by the reporter’s phone, fax and email information. She dialed the number.

  “Landon King,” he answered on the second ring.

  “Mr. King! Hello. This is Savanna Shepherd, from Carson. With the Art in the Park event? We met last weekend at the banquet.”

  “Ms. Shepherd, it’s nice to hear from you. I’ve almost got the article ready to send you, if you’d like, to approve before it goes to print. It’ll run in next Sunday’s paper. I thought the timing would work well for the festival.”

  “That’s perfect,” she said. “I’m so grateful for the exposure. I know it’ll help bring in more people. I, um, I have a question for you.” She hesitated. How to make this sound normal and not like she was trying to be some rogue private detective?

  “Sure, shoot. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m sure you heard about our councilman, John Bellamy, and his unfortunate, er, passing. Last Sunday night.”

  “I did. I’m so sorry for Carson’s loss. It sounds terrible.”

  She took a deep breath. “It was. He was a friend, and we’re—I’m—still trying to wrap my head around what could’ve happened. I wondered if I could possibly have you put me in touch with your cameraman from the night of the banquet?”

  The other end of the line was quiet.

  “Mr. King?”

  “Landon. Please. Sure, I can connect you with him. I’m not certain I see why, though? I read that the police have someone in custody for the murder of Councilman Bellamy. And the banquet was the night before it happened, right?”

  “Yes. It’s just…” She wished she’d thought this through better before dialing. But why should she care if Landon King thought she was meddling? “I’m just hoping maybe, by some small chance, the photographer may have accidentally captured something important during the banquet, probably without even knowing it. We don’t believe the man in custody is Councilman Bellamy’s killer.”

  “Oh.” More silence. “Well. I have to say, I’m intrigued now. I’m happy to help. Why don’t we meet? I’ll reach out to my photographer for you, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on what really happened.”

  Savanna swallowed hard, feeling her pulse speed up. This wasn’t at all what she’d been aiming for. It was one thing to discreetly try to clear Chef Joe. She didn’t think Skylar would approve of her talking to a reporter about their theories on who really killed John Bellamy.

  “I’ll come to you,” King was saying. “I’m out that way a few times a week. What works for you?”

  “I’ll have to get back to you on that. My schedule is a little up in the air right now,” she said, improvising. “But it sounds like a great idea. And in the meantime, maybe you could have your photographer call me?”

  “Absolutely. At this number?”

  King promised to have his photographer get in touch with her this week. After they hung up, Savanna left Jessamina and headed back toward home, mind racing. She picked up her pace, nearing Sydney’s and thinking about her plans for the afternoon. Aidan was picking her up to drive to Grand Pier. She came in through the kitchen door to the delicious aroma of Harlan’s signature cinnamon French toast.

  An hour later, Savanna was kneeling behind the gourmet treat counter at Fancy Tails, restocking Syd’s Peanut Butter Pupcakes. She’d offered to help out in exchange for Sydney letting her borrow her car to pick up paint and supplies for the Carson Theatre mural. The shop had been open only a few minutes when the bell over the door jingled.

  “Appointment only,” Sydney spoke from her desk on the other side of the shop near the grooming intake area. Her voice was short and terse, nothing like her usual proprietor tone.

  “Oh, we don’t need the fancy tail today. Just the treats.”

  Savanna swore she recognized the voice. She peered over the edge of the glass countertop. Finn Gallager, with Jersey. Aidan’s shaggy mixed breed dog. Finn rested one hand on the edge of her sister’s desk, wearing that hint of a smile from the other day when he’d been here. He exuded effortless confidence. Or was it arrogance?

  Sydney looked pointedly at Finn’s hand on her desk, then reached out and scratched the pooch behind the ears, ignoring the man on the other end of the leash. “Such a good boy, aren’t you? Where’s your real dad, Jersey? Do you want a treat?” She headed over to the display case.

  Savanna stood up quickly, not wanting to look as if she was hiding and eavesdropping.

  Finn’s face transformed into a full smile when he saw her. “Hey, I know you.”

  “Right!” Savanna said, as Sydney stared at her. “Uh. Syd, this is Aidan’s brother, Finn. Finn, this is my sister, Sydney.” Savanna gave her sister her best poker face before returning her attention to Finn. “What were you looking for today?”

  Finn peered into the display case. “Something…impressive. What are those? With the swirls on top?”

  “Bacon Biscuits,” Sydney answered. “How many?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  Savanna reached into the case underneath the Pupcakes and set a small tray of cookies decorated like tennis balls on the counter. “Maybe these? Who are you hoping to impress? Not Jersey, I hope. He likes all this stuff.”

  “My brother’s in-laws. I get the feeling they don’t like me much.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” Sydney spoke behind Savanna, her tone dry. Sheesh. Savanna knew they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, but she’d never seen Sydney be so rude to a customer.

  “Okay.” Savanna turned and glared at her sister. “I’ve got this. You have a nine-fifteen appointment, don’t you?”

  Sydney left them, grabbing her pink smock from her desk chair before disappearing into the grooming area.

  Savanna sighed, stifling the impulse to apologize for her sister’s behavior. It wasn’t her place. But the least she could do was show Finn that Carson could be a welcoming town. “What makes you think his in-laws don’t like you?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. Just a feeling I get around them. Same as with your sister,” he said, nodding toward the back of the shop.

  “Maybe you just need to get to know them a little.” She didn’t really know if she meant Jean and Tom Beckett or Sydney.

  “Well, these might help.” Finn tapped the tray of tennis ball treats. “I’ll take a dozen. Wait, do you know the Becketts’ dog? I think it’s a pug or beagle, something like that. Does she like these?”

  “Yes.” Savanna smiled, glad she had a little inside knowledge. “She’s a beagle mix, and she loves these. I’ll wrap them up.” As she packaged the treats and rang him up, she was aware of Finn watching her. “Six twenty-nine, please.”

  He handed her cash. “So, you and my brother, huh?” He nodded. “Good.” She wasn’t sure how to take that. She must’ve looked surprised, because he laughed. “I just mean I’m glad. It’s about time he let someone in. You like him?”

  “Of course I like him,” Savanna said, tipping her head curiously at Finn.

  “But, you like like him, right?”

  Now she laughed. “I suppose I do.”

  Finn nodded. “Awesome. All right, Savanna. I’ll see you around. And please thank Sydney for me too.”

  Savanna glanced at the wall clock after he left. She really had to go. She zipped over to the grooming area and poked he
r head in, shouting to Sydney over the running dog bath. “Rude!”

  “Yes, he is!” Syd didn’t even look up from the tub.

  Her sister could be so stubborn. The guy made one bad impression and was now a persona non grata. Savanna shook her head, hurrying through the back to the house so she could shower and start her day. She’d have to talk to Aidan on the way to Grand Pier; maybe they could all have dinner together one night before Finn left. She didn’t like the idea of her sister and Aidan’s brother disliking each other.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Savanna set two strawberry lemonades in Aidan’s cupholder and buckled her seatbelt. He’d appeared in Sydney’s driveway at exactly five-fifteen, as promised. She’d changed out of blue jeans into a summery, lavender wrap dress and wedge sandals. “Okay, highway 22 will take us all the way into Grand Pier. It’s the next town past North Haven.”

  “So, does Detective Jordan know yet who slashed your tires?” Aidan’s turn signal clicked on and off, and he looked straight ahead at the road as Savanna stared at him.

  “Who told you about that?”

  He glanced sideways at her. “Who didn’t tell me? It was the topic of the day in my waiting room. You can’t keep these things secret from me, Savanna.”

  “I’m not!” She hadn’t intended to. There were no secrets in Carson. “So what’s the consensus among your patients? Mob hitmen from Chicago trying to knock me off?”

  Aidan laughed. “That’s pretty close.”

  “What? Oh, for goodness sake.”

  “Let me think. The most popular theory was your jilted ex-fiancé sending someone to do his dirty work, because you’ve been seen at Lickety Split recently with another man.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty good.” She laughed. “So illicit and dangerous. But it’s been almost a year! And does no one remember I was the jilted one?”

  Aidan didn’t reply. She glanced at him and saw the muscle in his jaw working. “I mean,” she said, “he did me a favor. I would’ve done it if he hadn’t.”