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  Savanna laughed. She hadn’t expected him to agree with her. “I wouldn’t try to tell you how to do your job. I’m sure sometimes it works great. But I’ll tell you anything you want to know. You’re already a little intimidating—you don’t need to try so hard, you know?”

  Nick Jordan smiled at her, and it completely transformed his features. “I get it. Let’s move forward. Just a few more questions, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “So, nothing that you can think of was out of place or missing?”

  She thought hard. There was nothing. The scene Sunday night was different, obviously, than the few times she’d been there. He typically had the television on in the background, and coffee brewing, but she’d never seen a dish on the counter or a jacket tossed over a chair. John’s house was always meticulous, and last night had been no different. “Nothing seemed out of place, and I don’t think anything was missing.”

  Detective Jordan nodded. “And the night before, at your banquet, how did the councilman seem to you? Did he enjoy the evening? Did he seem stressed about anything? Or anyone?”

  “He seemed…like himself. Normal. He was excited about the festival. He did have a little, ah, argument, maybe? With a man I didn’t know, out in the vestibule.”

  “A man you didn’t know? Didn’t you invite all the attendees?”

  Savanna noted that his tone was now less clipped, more conversational; he was making an effort. “I did. But we also ran the invitation in the Allegan County newspaper and on their website, open to all local business owners. I wasn’t trying to keep sponsorship exclusive to Carson. John and I felt anything we could do to gain press and attention for the festival was a good thing, even if it meant businesses from neighboring towns could purchase vendor space or offer sponsorship.”

  Detective Jordan was jotting notes. “And you were never able to learn who the man was? Or what the altercation was about?”

  “It wasn’t really an altercation. The man was upset about something. He did kind of—jab his finger into John’s chest.” Savanna made the motion with one hand. “Talia DeVries was out there. Maybe she knows what the argument was about.”

  “Who’s Talia DeVries?”

  “Oh, right. She’s an art critic. She’s one of the event’s three judges. She, John, and Paul Stevens were in the vestibule together. Paul Stevens,” she said again, looking at Jordan’s notepad. “The newspaper reporter recognized him.”

  The detective was scribbling furiously. “Stevens. And what reporter? Did he know who this Paul Stevens was? Is he from Carson?”

  “The newspaper sent a reporter and cameraman to cover the banquet. The reporter said Mr. Stevens owns a hotel in Grand Pier. He said Grand Pier has hosted the Art in the Park event the last three years in a row.”

  “Interesting. Do you happen to have contact information for the judge who witnessed the argument…this Talia DeVries?”

  “Of course. I can get it to you. She’ll remember, I’m sure. She seemed a little upset herself about something,” Savanna said.

  “Really.” Jordan tipped his head, curious. “Were they together? She and Stevens?”

  “Oh! No. I don’t think so. But after Stevens stormed out, she was talking to John. It looked…I don’t know. Intense. That’s when I went out there.”

  “Did you hear anything they were saying?”

  Savanna shook her head. “No. It was brief. But afterward, John didn’t seem ruffled at all.”

  He made a few more notes, and looked up at her. “Thank you, Savanna. This is very helpful.”

  She stood. “Absolutely. Um. Detective.”

  He stood and came around the desk to walk her out of his office. “You know you can call me Nick. Or Jordan. Right? I’m not going to arrest you if you do.”

  She laughed. “Okay. I know. It just sounds weird. I’ll work on it,” she said. “I have one question. I really need access to the collection of art submissions at the councilman’s house. My colleague and I have to finish reviewing everything and send acceptances by the end of this week. Is there a way I can go pack all of that up? Maybe the next time you’re over there?”

  Jordan nodded. “Yes, but not while it’s still an open crime scene. How about tomorrow, late in the day? We should be able to grant you access by then. Just can’t risk compromising any evidence.”

  “Of course,” Savanna said. “I understand. Oh!” She suddenly remembered what she’d meant to ask the detective. They stood in the doorway to his office.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “I have a feeling you’re doing it again.”

  She shook her head. “Doing what?”

  “Details.” He grinned. “You’re cataloguing details in your head. I can almost see the wheels turning. What did you just think of?”

  “It’s probably crazy.”

  Jordan shrugged. “Tell me anyway.”

  “Jessamina. You don’t think that’s related, do you?”

  “It’s an interesting thought,” he mused. “But I doubt it. That’s quite an escalation, from defacing a statue to murder.”

  “Right,” she agreed. “I can see that.”

  “We can’t rule anything out at this point. I’ll keep it in mind. And you’ll call me if anything else occurs to you.” It was a statement more than a question.

  “I will, Det— Jordan— Nick,” she faltered and laughed. “Yeah, sorry, I can’t do it. But I’ll definitely let you know if I think of anything else!”

  Savanna was snuggled up with Fonzie on the couch, halfway through a bowl of popcorn and into her second episode of Columbo, when her phone on Sydney’s coffee table jingled. It was Aidan, and she picked up. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Savanna.” His voice was deep and quiet in her ear. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m totally fine, I swear.” Her cheeks warmed. He was ridiculous, worrying about her. She imagined him in the apartment the hospital arranged for him, sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Maybe the lights of the city were visible out the window behind him. Maybe he was wearing pajama pants and smelled of toothpaste.

  “Just making sure,” he said.

  “Thank you. How was your flight?”

  “Not bad. You’ll be happy to know I downloaded one of your Harry Potter movies to watch on the plane. The Chamber of Secrets.”

  “Hey! Did you finish the book first?”

  He laughed. “Yes. I’d never break the rules, don’t worry.”

  She loved that when Aidan had learned how much she loved Harry Potter, he’d insisted she educate him. He’d read book one, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, so they could watch the movie on their second date. “So, what did you think?”

  “You didn’t warn me about how creepy the spiders are on screen.”

  “They really are,” Savanna said. “Sorry about that.”

  “And I felt bad for Hagrid the whole movie. Now I need book three.” Background noise came through the line. Maybe his television?

  “I’ll give you my copy on Friday.”

  “I can’t wait,” he said.

  She smiled into the phone as if he could see her. “Me too.”

  “Oh, ready?” Aidan’s voice became muffled for a second.

  “What?” Maybe he wasn’t in his apartment. Was he talking to her?

  “Sorry, Savanna. I’m walking out of the hospital now, we’ve got to get a cab. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Sure. Talk to you later,” she said, but he was already gone. She frowned at her phone. Fonzie grumbled and moved closer to her on the couch.

  She didn’t know how he kept this schedule, constantly running. He must’ve been with a colleague, leaving work. She assumed later meant probably tomorrow, or sometime this week; he’d be going to bed when he got home.

  Savanna forced her attention back t
o Columbo. Nearly twenty minutes later, her phone buzzed again. A text from Aidan.

  Sorry, in the cab now. Was waiting for the new chief to finish up. We have a breakfast meeting tomorrow with hospital admin. She needed to go over talking points.

  She. He’d just reminded Savanna that he was training the new chief of cardiothoracic surgery, who happened to be a woman. Quite likely a whip-smart, driven, gorgeous creature with everything in common with Aidan. Including a shared taxi, apparently, likely on their way home to the same apartment building. Of course they’d share a cab. She was probably Aidan’s next-door neighbor. Fan-flipping-tastic.

  Fonzie leaped off the couch and sprinted to the front door as Savanna heard Sydney’s key in the lock. Had she misread the whole exchange? Was he only checking up on her to make sure she was okay, and that was all?

  Sounds like an early day, she typed. I’ll let you get some sleep.

  Yes. Goodnight, Savanna.

  Night. She shoved her phone away, across the couch cushions, as Syd set her gym bag on the bench by the front door. “Why are guys so clueless and annoying?”

  “Hello to you too,” Sydney said, and then glanced at Savanna’s phone. “Aidan? What happened?”

  “Nothing. He’s confusing. Or maybe it’s me. I’m just destined to have bad luck with guys.”

  “It’s probably him.” Syd flounced down sideways into the large, fluffy papasan chair beside the couch, stretching her neon lycra-clad legs out and pointing her toes. She glared at the television, her long red hair spilling over the wooden edge of the chair. “Why Columbo? Do you know how many other shows we could be watching right now? Like, ones from this century?”

  Savanna held out the remote. “Fine, change it. Columbo’s an underrated genius. You’d know if you ever watched an episode with me.”

  “It’s okay. I need to shower. And speaking of guys…Brad called me twice today.” She waved her phone at Savanna.

  “Why? Did you call him back?”

  “No. He left me a voicemail. It’s been two weeks. He says he wants to talk and he doesn’t understand what happened with us. I just… I never felt as strongly about him as he does me! How can I explain that without hurting him?”

  “I don’t know. But you have to try. If he’s still hung up on you, you’ve got to be straight with him. Maybe it won’t crush him—he’s probably tougher than you think. You know? Maybe he’ll move on, and someone will fall head over heels for him instead of just putting in time.” Savanna stopped and took a breath. Wow. Where had that come from?

  Sydney was quiet and still, staring at her. Savanna opened her mouth to speak, not sure what else to say. Her sister scooched Fonzie out of the way and sat beside Savanna, pulling her into a tight hug. “Yes. You’re right. You’re a thousand percent right. I’ll talk to him. I’ll go call him back right now.” She let go and stood up.

  “Okay, good. Syd—”

  Sydney interrupted. “And you need to hear this, Savanna. Your bonehead ex-fiancé was too self-absorbed to see what he had. He wasn’t just putting in time with you. He did you a favor by letting you go. No one can crush you. You’re the strongest person I know. Well, except Dad. Okay?” Her fists were on her narrow hips now and her gaze locked with Savanna’s.

  “Oh, sheesh. Don’t make this about me.” She sat back and pushed at Sydney’s thigh with her fuzzy-socked foot. “Go. You said you’re going, right?”

  Her sister was moving toward the hallway to her bedroom. “Whatever. I know you hear me.” She turned and pointed a finger at Savanna. “Let it sink in.”

  The doorbell rang, making them jump and setting off the bark alarm as Fonzie leaped off the couch and skittered to the front door.

  Sydney placed a hand on the doorknob, glancing over her shoulder at Savanna. “Are you expecting someone?”

  “No. It’s late.” She moved to the entryway next to Sydney.

  Skylar stood on the front porch.

  “Are you all right?” Syd pulled her inside.

  “What’s wrong, what happened?” Savanna’s thoughts raced, worries about Nolan or Charlotte or Harlan. None of them simply appeared on each other’s doorstep late at night.

  “I just came from the Sheriff’s department.” Skylar was breathless. “They’ve arrested Joe Fratelli for the murder of John Bellamy.”

  Chapter Seven

  Savanna was on her second cup of coffee before she left for school Tuesday morning. Skylar had stayed until after eleven last night; none of them had gotten enough sleep.

  Joe Fratelli was one of the nicest men Savanna knew. How could he have killed the councilman? Was it possible the knife she’d seen that night was one of his? Even if it was, someone must’ve stolen it from him. There was no way he was a murderer. She had known him since she was a kid, and it just made no sense.

  Her phone rang as she was juggling her purse, tote bag, and the large bin of beads, rhinestones and ribbons from her parents’ house. She hurried, loading everything in, but the call had gone to voicemail by the time she got to it. It was Skylar, sounding frazzled and panicked. Savanna called her back over her car’s Bluetooth system. “What’s going on?”

  “Savanna. I don’t even know how this happened.” Skylar’s voice trembled as if she was about to cry.

  She was instantly afraid. Her older sister never cried. “What can I do? Skylar, take a breath, talk to me.”

  “I overslept! Now Nolan is late to preschool, I’m late to my meeting in Lansing, and Travis isn’t even home because he had an early consult in Grand Rapids. I never oversleep—this is terrible! Please, could you or Syd take Nolan to preschool for me?”

  “Yes. Of course, I’ll be right there,” she said, relieved. She had time, and it wouldn’t take long to drop Nolan at the little red schoolhouse next to Carson Elementary. Skylar never, ever asked anyone for help. She was honored to be the one she’d called.

  After she arrived, Savanna kneeled on the pale gray hardwood in Skylar’s living room to tie Nolan’s light-up sneakers. She gathered his tiny backpack and lunchbox, corralled her crabby, anxious sister for a quick hug, and ushered Nolan out the door.

  Skylar waved to them from the front door. “Thank you,” she called. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Mama’s barky today.” Nolan’s little voice came from the back seat.

  Savanna met his gaze in the rear view mirror. “Is she?”

  “All I said was that the pancakes taste funny, and she threw them away! She made me eat cereal instead.” His round face was pouty, white-blond hair brushing his long lashes.

  “I’m sorry, Nolan. Sometimes even mamas get barky, just like Fonzie when he can’t have a treat, right?”

  He nodded. “She still gave me my kiss though.” He held his chubby palm up, showing Savanna.

  She’d seen Skylar do that—kiss his palm and then fold his fingers closed around it. She was a good mom, having a bad day. “That’s good. That means everything will be fine.”

  “Auntie Vanna?”

  She passed the town park and turned onto the road that led to the schools. “Yes, buddy?”

  “How long does Fonzie stay barky?”

  She chuckled. “Not long. Your mama won’t either, don’t worry. You’ll see when she picks you up after school today.”

  “Good.” He nodded, as if her word was gospel.

  Wow, this kid had his fingers wrapped all the way around her heart. Savanna winked at him in the mirror, and he finally gave her a smile.

  She made a mental note to call Skylar later and find out what was really going on with her. Of the three siblings, their older sister was the most like their mother. Charlotte and Skylar were both organized, competitive, dependable as the tides. Skylar didn’t oversleep. She didn’t spend the day on the couch, either, unless she was truly sick—and she’d seemed just fine yesterday at lunch. She definitely didn’
t cry. The last time Savanna had seen her cry was when they were teenagers and Skylar had snagged her foot on a zebra mussel in Lake Michigan.

  Savanna’s busy day at school provided a great distraction from worrying about her sister and trying to wrap her brain around Joe Fratelli’s arrest. Her second and fourth graders loved the Nature Mobile project, and she even had time to work on grades while her older kids crafted.

  But on their way to Skylar’s house later that evening, in Sydney’s car, the worries of the day came rushing back to her. Along with the nagging feeling that she was getting way behind in her tasks for the Art in the Park festival, plus wondering if she’d even have a caterer for the event now, she’d been watching for a call from Detective Jordan all day. He was supposed to let her know by tonight when she could come pick up the collection of art submissions from Councilman Bellamy’s office.

  Sydney pulled her little hybrid into the driveway behind Harlan’s truck and the SUV Travis drove. Skylar had asked her sisters to come over for dinner, saying she needed to talk to them.

  “Mom and Dad are here?” Savanna glanced at Syd. “Did you know this was a family thing?”

  “Nope.”

  “I think this is bad. Something’s wrong with her.”

  Syd turned in the driver’s seat and frowned at her. “Nothing’s wrong with Skylar. I think this is about Joe.”

  Savanna bit her lip and followed Sydney up the front steps. Sydney pulled the front door open and they were greeted by the delicious aroma of spaghetti, Nolan’s favorite and Skylar’s specialty.

  Skylar’s house was a reflection of her personality. The contemporary exterior was complemented with pretty landscaping, neat ornamental shrubs, and tan outdoor furniture on the stamped concrete porch. Inside, vaulted ceilings were met with neutral-toned walls and hardwood throughout, with a super-plush, cream-colored rug covering most of the family room floor. Nolan’s toys lived in and around a large toy chest Harlan had crafted in his woodshop, stained pale gray to match the flooring and adorned with Nolan’s name in large, brightly painted wooden letters.

  Skylar’s square kitchen table had been widened with a leaf so they’d all fit. Charlotte and Nolan finished distributing plates and silverware, and Travis set the deep serving dish of sauce on a table mat in the center.