Behind the Frame Page 14

  “Let me think. I know there were a few other exciting theories.” He moved past the topic without any comment. “My receptionist thinks one of the teachers at Carson Elementary did it; apparently, the teacher is threatened by your relationship with Jack Carson, so she’s trying to send you a message to bow out.”

  She shook her head. “What in the world? That’s a pretty violent message. Which teacher? What relationship? He’s my friend.”

  “I can’t remember. I don’t know many tire-slashing teachers, so not sure I believe that theory.” He gave her a half grin. “Oh, and one of my patients this afternoon thought the same person who beheaded Jessamina also destroyed your tires, because they were jealous of you dating the eligible town doctor.”

  “Oh, my.” She giggled, her cheeks flushing with warmth. Hearing him say dating out loud warmed her and made her heart beat a little faster. “I’m glad to see you aren’t immune to the gossip. Sounds like someone has a secret crush on you—you should be careful.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “You should be careful,” he advised, feigning seriousness. “My crush will stop at nothing to get rid of you.”

  “I’m not scared. My ex has mob connections, remember?” He laughed, and she joined him. “Okay, but wait, so what about the councilman’s murder? All these potential perps killed an innocent town official just to send me a message?”

  He shrugged. “The overall consensus among my clinic patients is that Councilman Bellamy’s murder was unrelated.”

  She nodded. “Really. I’ve been thinking about that too.”

  “Anyway. Don’t let it get to you. People will redirect their gossip as soon as the next big thing happens.”

  “Of course,” Savanna agreed. “I unfortunately know how it works.”

  They rode in silence for a while, dense forest and the occasional glimpse of blue water visible out Aidan’s driver’s side window.

  “Savanna. Even though we’re joking about it, someone is obviously troubled at the interest you’re taking in the councilman’s murder. Or at something. Please be careful.”

  “I am careful. I’m getting plenty of worry and advice from my dad, believe me. I don’t want you to worry too.” She fiddled with the radio stations as the signal got fuzzy. They were about twenty minutes away from Grand Pier now. Something was nagging at her. “Aidan.”

  He looked at her.

  “An answer for an answer. Okay?”

  His eyebrows were raised in curiosity. “Sure.”

  “Have you dated much since…since losing your wife?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “You haven’t dated much?”

  “I haven’t dated,” he said.

  “At all?”

  He glanced at her and then returned his gaze to the road. “I haven’t wanted to.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mollie was so young,” he said. “After her mom was gone, I felt like I owed it to her to try to give her all my attention.”

  “As it should be,” Savanna said, nodding. “That makes perfect sense.”

  “I never wanted this for her.” His tone dropped slightly.

  Savanna wanted to turn the radio volume down to hear him better, but she kept her hands in her lap; she didn’t want to spook him, make him feel as if he was under a microscope. She waited.

  “Finn and I had no one after our parents died. We lost them both at once. He was twelve, and I was fourteen. I wanted Mollie to have what we didn’t, two parents, an uncomplicated life. I worry every day about what she’s missing. I try, but I can’t be both parents to her.”

  Savanna’s chest burned, taking in the uncharacteristic angst written in Aidan’s features. “But you’re a wonderful dad.” She matched his quiet tone. “I don’t think Mollie feels like she’s missing out.”

  “She remembers bits and pieces, little snippets of time spent with her mom. She’s very attached to her grandparents. It was the right decision to stay in Carson, I’m sure of that. Jean’s a good grandma to Mollie.”

  “I can see that.”

  “So. Your answer for an answer. No, I haven’t dated. At all. I had no interest until I met you.” He met her gaze and held it for a beat longer than he probably should’ve, sitting behind the wheel.

  She knew her cheeks were red and she didn’t care. She didn’t think she’d ever received a nicer compliment.

  “My turn,” he said. “What really happened between you and your fiancé? Would you have left him, if he hadn’t beaten you to it? Were you in love with him?”

  Her eyes widened. “Um. That’s three questions, not one.” Her mind was racing. How to explain what had happened between her and Rob?

  “My bad. I get one question. What would you do if he showed up today and asked you to come back?”

  She laughed. “That’s too easy. I’d shoo him away to Chicago without a second thought.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  She knew her answer was unsatisfactory, after he’d opened up to her. “We weren’t right together, looking back. I think I knew it from the beginning. But I was young… And then, by the end, I think I’d convinced myself that eventually we might grow into the kind of couple I wanted us to be. I thought I loved him, but it never felt the way I thought it should. Like, you know when something really great happens, and you can’t wait to tell that one person, your person? Because it’s just a given that you have that connection, and they matter more to you than anyone else? We never had that. I don’t think I was ever in love with him.”

  “That connection,” Aidan said. “I do know what you mean. If you didn’t have it with him, how do you know you should have?”

  Because you’re the person I want to tell—you are that person. Oh, she absolutely could not say that to him. “Because I see it. In my parents, in Skylar and Travis. I know it exists.”

  “This is it,” Aidan said.

  Her heart did a happy little flip until she saw him point ahead out the windshield. They’d arrived at Lakeside Pier Hotel.

  Elegant and stately didn’t begin to describe the establishment. Savanna and Aidan walked up and stood on the expansive front porch, taking in the view. The hotel sat high on bluffs overlooking Lake Michigan. A plaque mounted adjacent to the front door declared the hotel an historic landmark, in the Stevens family since 1922, with 198 guest rooms and the five-star Lakeside Pier Bistro on site.

  “Wow,” Savanna said.

  He held the door for her, and they entered a completely empty lobby.

  She checked her phone for the time. “It’s six-thirty. This should be peak dinner crowd, right?” She read a directional sign for the bistro and pointed down the hallway to the left. “Let’s go check it out.” They turned the corner and were greeted by a formally attired maître d’ at a black podium.

  “Two in your party tonight?”

  Aidan nodded. “Yes, please.”

  They followed the man through the restaurant to a table near the windows facing the lake. He set two menus in front of them and disappeared. A hostess took his place, also dressed in black and white, complete with an elegant black satin vest and tie. She took their drink orders and informed them their server would be with them shortly.

  “Fancy,” Savanna said once she’d gone.

  “Empty,” Aidan replied. “Is it because it’s a Monday?”

  “Maybe?”

  After the server had taken their order, Savanna put a hand up to stop him from leaving. “Excuse me. We wondered if Mr. Stevens is on site somewhere? We hoped to meet him.”

  “I think so. I’ll find out for you. Is everything all right?” The young man’s brow furrowed.

  “Oh yes, of course. We just wanted to ask him a few things about the hotel.”

  That seemed to satisfy the server. He walked around the bar toward the kitchen and stood chatting with a young wo
man for a minute or two.

  Savanna leaned toward Aidan across their little candlelit table. This would all be very romantic, if they hadn’t arrived hoping to interrogate a murder suspect. “Giuseppe’s is busy even on Mondays. This is weird,” she whispered.

  “You’re right.”

  Paul Stevens appeared at the host station for the briefest moment. He met her gaze, and then turned and walked quickly away, out of sight before she could even tell Aidan to look.

  The server came back to their table. “Mr. Stevens is unfortunately away on business right now. I’m happy to have him call you tomorrow if you’d like to leave your contact information before you go.”

  “Yes, thanks, I’ll do that,” Savanna said. She reached for her purse, waiting for the server to leave.

  Then she pushed her chair back and grabbed Aidan’s hand. “Come on.” She tried to appear unhurried as they crossed the dining room. Once they rounded the corner beyond the maître d’, she broke into a sprint.

  Aidan easily kept up with her, her pace no match for his long-legged stride. “What are we doing?” His words were hushed and intrigued.

  “He’s here, I saw him.” She pushed through the tall double doors onto the porch just in time to spot Stevens climbing into the passenger side of a sedan in the parking lot. A younger man was already seated behind the wheel.

  “Paul Stevens,” Aidan’s deep voice boomed near her ear.

  Stevens halted, one hand on the door frame. His shoulders sagged.

  Savanna and Aidan stopped ten feet away from him in the parking lot. “We just want to talk to you,” she said, breathless.

  “Fine.” He got out and shut his car door. He stuck one hand in a pocket, then removed it and cleared his throat. “We can talk in my office.”

  Aidan held out a hand. “Thank you. Lead the way.”

  As Stevens pulled the door open to the lobby, the three of them were startled by squealing tires. Savanna jumped and whipped around. The car Paul Stevens had just tried to flee in was speeding out of the parking lot, leaving black skid marks and smoke from burning rubber in its wake.

  She stared at the hotel owner. He shook his head and sighed, holding the door open for them.

  In his office, with Savanna and Aidan sitting opposite him in two red leather chairs, Stevens rested his elbows on his paper strewn desk and laced his fingers together in front of him. “Savanna Shepherd. And I don’t think I know you?”

  “Dr. Gallager. From Carson.”

  Savanna leaned forward in her chair. “What’s going on? I know you saw me. Why were you trying to leave? Who just took your car?”

  Stevens shook his head. “That was my son. We’ve…been having some trouble with him.” He ran a hand through thinning hair. “I apologize, Ms. Shepherd. I suppose I was trying to avoid an inevitable conversation. I know about your councilman.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I know he was killed. I’m sure you and probably a lot of people saw us arguing the night before he died. I figured it was just a matter of time before someone came to talk to me.”

  “If you expected it, why didn’t you come forward?” Aidan asked the question on Savanna’s mind.

  “With what?” He stared at them, his tone incredulous. “With information that I’m one of the last people to see John Bellamy alive and we didn’t part amicably? Would you come forward with that information?”

  “Fair point.” Aidan looked at Savanna.

  “What were you fighting about?” she asked. “It appeared pretty heated. I saw you poke your finger into John’s chest.”

  “We weren’t fighting. That’s a strong word. I’d been in touch with the councilman weeks earlier, when Art in the Park was awarded to Carson through your efforts. Carson was never even in the running until this year, you know.”

  “I’m aware of that. But the event can be awarded to any Michigan city or township that meets the criteria. You’ve had the distinction of hosting the last three years in Grand Pier—why not give another town the opportunity?”

  “Why not? Because we also met all the criteria. We entered early. Our city council lobbied hard for the event, and I even sent an appeal. I compiled data on how we can better accommodate the tourist crowd than most other coastal Michigan towns, with Lakeside Pier Hotel being part of that. Grand Pier should’ve won the festival. We’re not going to make it though this tourism season without it.”

  Savanna shook her head. “How’s that possible? You can’t mean that one event sustained this place through three entire tourist seasons.”

  Stevens sat back in his chair. “Ms. Shepherd, I’ll be honest with you. This hotel was on the brink of bankruptcy three years ago before Grand Pier was awarded Art in the Park. The event saved us. You’ve seen what it’s already done for your restaurants and lodging by now, I’m sure. Look around.” He spread his arms out wide, though they were enclosed in his small office. “Eighteen percent of our rooms are booked. And that’s for the whole season. You were in our restaurant. Does that look like a normal dinner rush?”

  Savanna took a breath and crossed her legs. “Okay. I see why you’re upset. Is that what you were arguing with John about?”

  “Between your Rose’s B&B and Mitten Inn, Carson can’t accommodate the event’s tourism crowd by a long shot. It just doesn’t make sense to allow such a small town to host.”

  “It’s true that Rose’s B&B and Mitten Inn are booked solid. But there are several establishments within fifteen minutes that are running Art in the Park deals. The festival will boost tourism for all the neighboring areas. Maybe even Grand Pier.”

  He shook his head. “No one wants to drive this far. I’ve got a meeting with the bank on Thursday to discuss bankruptcy versus foreclosure.” He was nearly glaring at her.

  She stood up, and Aidan followed her lead. None of this was her fault. “Mr. Stevens. I’m not responsible for the failure of your business. I’m very sorry this is happening, but it doesn’t justify anything you might’ve said or done to John Bellamy.”

  Stevens didn’t bother to get up. “I did nothing to your councilman. I asked him to concede when Carson won the event, and I told him again at the banquet that he was making a mistake by insisting Carson could handle the magnitude of the tourism traffic. I still say it’s a bad decision.”

  “Where were you last Sunday night, Mr. Stevens?”

  “Really? I don’t see a police badge or warrant.”

  She shrugged. “No, you’re right. You don’t. I’m sure my friend Detective Jordan will be up here soon enough to talk to you. Since, as you said, you’re one of the last people to see John Bellamy alive, and you didn’t part on good terms.”

  Now Paul Stevens stood, his chair rolling out from under him and smacking against the wall. “It’s time for you to leave. Not that I owe you any explanation, but last Sunday was my wife’s surprise fiftieth birthday party. My family and I were here with her and dozens of witnesses all night.” He moved to his office door and opened it, standing back.

  In the hallway outside, Savanna turned to at least thank him for his time. She was met with the door being slammed abruptly, hard enough to make the frosted glass window rattle.

  She looked up at Aidan. “Okay, then.”

  “It’s still a win,” he said quietly, bending so she could hear his words. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s find somewhere to eat on the way home.”

  In the car, she turned in her seat to face him. “How was that a win? I’d basically figured the argument with John was sour grapes over his hotel losing the tourist traffic.”

  “Well, if nothing else, we can cross him off your list of possible suspects. Right? He has an alibi; he was throwing his wife a birthday party all night.”

  “True. But was his son at the party?”

  Aidan stared at her, and then returned his gaze to the r
oad. “Savvy.”

  She laughed. “What did you call me?”

  He shook his head. “No. Savvy of you. To look at the son. But…maybe I should call you Savvy? It fits.” He winked at her.

  “The only person who calls me that is Syd. It sounds odd coming out of your mouth.” She closed her eyes in the darkening car, just briefly. Why had she mentioned his mouth? Now all she could think about was their almost-kiss on the beach last Friday. She shook her head to clear it. “But listen. I saw that guy in the car, when we were yelling at Stevens to stop. I didn’t know it was his son. He looked to be late teens or early twenties. Maybe this is a stretch, but what lengths might someone go to if they knew their father was about to declare bankruptcy and lose the family business—potentially their own future source of income?”

  Aidan was frowning, obviously deep in thought. “You think that kid could be responsible for the councilman’s murder? Maybe for wreaking all the havoc going on in Carson?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not. But I could see a disgruntled teenage kid taking matters into their own hands and vandalizing a town monument to make a point. I mean, maybe his father even knows what he did! Paul was getting into the car with him to get away from us. I bet Sydney can help me find him on social media. We can try to learn more about him.”

  “Very good idea.”

  After dinner at a small diner about a half hour outside of Carson, they rode in comfortable silence the rest of the way home. The inside of the car was enveloped in darkness but for the dashlights. Aidan had turned off the radio when static had taken over, and the quiet hum of the road lulled Savanna into a sleepy, contented state. Her eyelids felt so heavy; she should’ve had coffee with dinner. Aidan pulled off the highway onto the long, winding stretch of road that led back to town, lit every so often by street lights. Panels of light from the street lamps rolled across the cabin of the car, followed by darkness, followed by rolling light, followed by darkness…

  She opened her eyes when the SUV stopped moving. They were in Sydney’s driveway. She blinked, getting her bearings.