Behind the Frame Page 7

  Once they were seated, Skylar stood, expression serious, fingertips resting on the table top as she looked at each one of them. Savanna swallowed around the lump in her throat; she knew something was up with her. That’s what this was about. “I’ve gathered everyone here today because Travis and I have something to tell you. We’ve realized this house is just too big for the three of us.”

  “What? You’re moving? Where?” Savanna was surprised; Skylar loved this house.

  “You’re staying in Carson though, right?” Sydney asked. “We finally have Savanna back—you’re not allowed to leave!”

  Skylar’s face cracked suddenly into a smile. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, you all look so freaked out.”

  Travis took her hand, matching her smile. “We aren’t moving. But this house is too big for us.”

  “So,” Skylar said, squeezing his hand, “we’re adding to our family. I’m pregnant.” She beamed.

  Savanna let out an involuntary, happy shriek surprised even her and then clapped a hand over her mouth. Skylar laughed as she was surrounded by multiple pairs of arms hugging her at once.

  Charlotte was the last to sit back down. “Not funny. That was not funny.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” She looked sheepish. “I think it was a little funny? We did tell Nolan before everyone got here.”

  After a dinner filled with excited conversation about the baby, Harlan took the dish towel from Skylar’s hands. “Travis and I have got this. Go talk with your mother,” he said, nodding toward the table where Charlotte was chatting with Savanna and Syd. “You’ve just made us the happiest second-time grandparents in the world.”

  Skylar slid an arm around Harlan’s waist, giving him a squeeze. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Later, after Nolan was in bed and Charlotte and Harlan headed home, the sisters gathered on the plush rug around the coffee table with three cups of fruity, steaming herbal tea Sydney had brought. Travis had some historical documentary on the television in the other room. Skylar said it was the one thing they could never agree on. He watched TV to be informed, and she watched for entertainment.

  “Have you talked to Joe Fratelli? What do you think’s going on?” Savanna asked.

  “His arraignment is tomorrow morning,” Skylar said. “I’m positive there’s no way he could’ve murdered John Bellamy.”

  “Do they even have enough evidence to hold him?”

  “They have the murder weapon.”

  Savanna shook her head. “I know that. I saw it. Is that what’s tying Joe to this?”

  “It’s his chef’s knife. His knife was used to kill the councilman,” Skylar said. “His fingerprints are still on the handle.”

  Sydney sucked in her breath. “That’s bad.”

  “Okay, so it is his knife,” Savanna said. “But you’re sure he didn’t do it. I mean, we’ve known him forever. I can’t imagine him hurting anyone. There must be more fingerprints on the knife than his?”

  Skylar shook her head. “Jordan has to loop me in on everything they’ve got, since I’ll be defending Fratelli. There’s a full set of his prints on the handle. There are a couple of partials, but they haven’t identified them yet. He runs a busy kitchen, so I’m not optimistic those will even help.”

  “What about an alibi?” Sydney spoke up. “That’s a thing, right? Can’t anyone vouch for where he was when it happened?”

  “The time of death was placed between eight-thirty and nine p.m. Sunday night. You know Giuseppe’s closes early on Sundays. They stop seating at six. I checked. The restaurant security system was turned on at seven fifty-eight Sunday night. Joe and a few of his staff handled the closing tasks and turned on the system when they locked up.”

  “And then?” Savanna asked. “Maybe he stopped somewhere on his way home?”

  Skylar shook her head. “No. He went straight home, showered, and was on his couch watching America’s Got Talent by eight-thirty. Alone.”

  The three of them were silent. Thinking.

  “I’m going to argue that the knife’s circumstantial, but there’s some gray area there. I’m hoping to get him released on bond. I can’t stand the idea of him sitting in jail until trial.”

  “Does he have any idea how this happened?” Skylar hadn’t said a word during dinner about his arrest. Savanna was sure she hadn’t wanted to upset Harlan, since the chef was his friend. The information would probably become public tomorrow, she guessed.

  “I’ve had very little contact with him yet. We have a sit-down tomorrow, before the arraignment. I’ll know more then.”

  “We’ll figure this out,” Savanna added. “I think the key is coming up with who could’ve wanted to hurt the councilman, and why.” She’d already filled her sisters in on the argument she’d seen in the banquet hall vestibule, and the timing of the statue being smashed, but all of that was trivial in light of John losing his life.

  “Tell him we’re in his corner,” Sydney said. “He needs to know that. The news will go like wildfire once it’s out.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Skylar said. “I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow after court, and at least then maybe we can come up with a plan.”

  On the way home, Savanna told Sydney to stop in town at Giuseppe’s Restaurant. “I have to pick up the catering forms,” Savanna said. “I need to work on figuring out the menu for the Art in the Park opening day. If the restaurant can even still handle the event. We might need to find a different caterer. Which is a small thing to worry about,” she added as they pulled into the parking space behind Giuseppe’s.

  “If it falls through, we’ll get someone from out of town. I’ll help. Let’s not decide anything until after we hear from Skylar tomorrow.”

  The two sisters were surprised to find Mia, the proprietor of Mitten Inn, at the bar, chatting with the young sous chef Savanna had met the other night during the banquet. The bartender was restocking the shelves at the other end of the space, and a woman in a serving uniform stood at the cash register, cashing out the only guests left a half hour before closing. The Italian-American establishment held a warm, inviting atmosphere, conjuring old-world charm with soft lighting, starched red linen napkins on white tablecloths, high-backed wine-colored chairs, and the most delicious aromas wafting through the air.

  “Girls.” Mia spoke, motioning them over to the bar. “You’re Charlotte’s girls.”

  Savanna nodded. “Savanna, and this is Sydney.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” the older woman said, shaking both their hands. “Mia James. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “You too. We’re, uh, sorry for the loss of Councilman Bellamy.” One should still offer condolences for the loss of an ex-husband, right? Had they been on good terms? What was proper etiquette for this?

  “Thank you. Oh.” Mia placed a hand on the tattooed forearm of the tall, thin chef behind the bar. “I’m not sure whether you’ve met my son? He’s finally back home in Carson, where he belongs.” She smiled up at him. “Remy, Savanna and Sydney Shepherd. Girls, Remington James.”

  Remy was Mia’s son? Until yesterday, she hadn’t even known John Bellamy had been married. Was Remy John’s son? Or only Mia’s? “We met at the banquet Saturday night. You and Chef Fratelli did such a fantastic job.”

  “Thanks.” Remy pulled a rack of wine glasses across the bar and went to work drying and buffing each one with a white cotton towel and then hanging them over his head.

  “Is there any word on that?” Mia looked from Savanna to Sydney and back, her voice now much quieter. “You heard he was arrested?”

  Savanna nodded, not sure how much to say.

  “Yes. It seems crazy,” Sydney offered.

  Mia was wide-eyed. “I know! I can’t believe it.”

  “We actually stopped by to pick up the catering menu. I don’t know if Joe mentioned anything to you?” Savanna looked at Remy. “Abo
ut the Art in the Park event?”

  He nodded. “He did. I’ll grab the packet.”

  When Mia’s son had disappeared through the double swinging doors to the kitchen, and presumably Joe Fratelli’s office, she turned back to Savanna and Sydney. “You’ll have to forgive him. He isn’t a talker. And since the arrest last night, I think he’s more than a little concerned about what’ll happen with the restaurant, and his job.”

  “That’s understandable,” Sydney said. “Is there a manager or someone who can help while Chef Fratelli is out? This must be overwhelming.”

  “Not really. Apparently there’s a manager, but she’s almost as new as Remy is. He’s planning on working open to close until we know whether Joe will be back to work or not.”

  Remy reappeared, handing a large envelope to Savanna. “It’s all in there. When you’re ready, drop it back off, and I’ll start putting orders in.”

  “Thank you. Should I wait, do you think? Until we…know more?” She didn’t want to give the man more to fret about than was already on his plate.

  A frown crossed his features, and the muscle in his jaw pulsed under his five o’clock shadow. Remy’s left eyebrow was intersected by a scar on one end, making Savanna wonder where he’d been—who he’d been—before he’d returned home to Carson. She didn’t remember ever seeing him. He shook his head. “That’s okay. Chef will be back soon, I’m sure. Either way, I know he was looking forward to the job. I’ll get it taken care of.”

  “Great. Thank you,” she said again. “We should let you close up. It was nice meeting you. Both of you.” Savanna looked at Mia.

  “Yes!” Mia smiled at them. “Long overdue. Tell your mother I said hello.”

  “Have a good night,” Sydney called over her shoulder as they left. The moment they were in the parking lot, Syd gripped Savanna’s arm. “What. Was. That!”

  Savanna stared back at her. “I know! Okay, so John’s ex-wife is Mitten Inn Mia. And Mia’s son is Giuseppe’s new assistant chef? Or temporary head chef, I guess? Do you remember him? Is he John’s son too? Why don’t I even remember Mia? Is it just because we were kids and didn’t pay attention to boring adults?”

  Syd pulled Savanna across the pavement to the car. She waited until it was started and they were on their way out of the parking lot. “I do not remember that guy Remy. I’d remember him. He’s around our age, right? Late twenties, early thirties?” Syd glanced at Savanna and then back at the road.

  “I think so. Syd.” Savanna took a deep breath. “I’m just going to say it. If Joe Fratelli’s knife was stolen to make him look guilty of killing John Bellamy, who’d have the easiest access to that knife?”

  “His sous chef.”

  “If we don’t remember Remy James, then where was he—where were they? How long ago did Mia open Mitten Inn? When was she married to Bellamy?”

  “What did Skylar say? Remember, about her law firm and something about Mitten Inn’s lease. She thought the divorce happened a long time ago, right? But Carson’s a small town. We should remember Remy.”

  “You’re right,” Savanna agreed. “And we don’t. But I know who will.”

  Chapter Eight

  Savanna pulled the door open to Fancy Tails, hearing Sydney’s laughter before she even got inside. She’d left school right after the last bell. Fonzie ran over to her, his whole body wagging, and Savanna stooped down and let him leap into her arms. She set him down, and he bolted across the shop to the toy basket.

  Straightening up, she saw she was far from Fancy Tail’s only customer. A middle-aged woman with a sweater-clad Yorkie in her arms stood behind the good-looking man Sydney was flirting with at the counter. She and the guy had a friendly back-and-forth banter going on about something. Savanna could pick out Syd’s flirting voice in a heartbeat. It was lilting, a little breathier, a little higher-pitched. She knew her sister was completely unaware—the one time Savanna had teased her about it, Syd had vehemently denied she sounded any different.

  Curious, Savanna moved to the toy basket for a closer position and played tug-of-war with Fonzie while she tried to spy on the interaction at the counter. Sydney was wearing a sheer cream-and-floral kimono over a fitted hunter-green top and distressed jeans, and brightly colored strands of ribbon woven into her long, messy red side braid accentuated her already boho chic vibe. She pointed to the organic canine candies in the display case, explaining how she’d developed the recipe.

  The man leaned toward Sydney, one large hand on the glass countertop. His sleeve was pushed up, revealing part of a tan, muscled forearm. Stick-straight black hair fell over his forehead, and Savanna spied a dimple in one cheek as he flirted right back with her sister. “So you’re telling me you are the boss? You run this place?”

  “I own this place.”

  “No way. You look like a kid! You can’t be old enough for that.” He shook his head, grinning.

  Uh-oh. He’d hit her sister’s sore spot. Her whole life, growing up as Savanna and Skylar’s little sister, Sydney had hated it when people treated her like the baby of the family.

  Sydney’s jaw squared and she stared at him. “Rude.”

  The man at the counter shifted. “Ouch. All right, apologies, Miss…?”

  Sydney moved to the register and rung him up. She handed his card back to him along with his purchase in a white box tied with a string. “Shepherd.” The lilt in her voice was gone. She looked past the man and greeted the Yorkie woman. “Bernice, I’m so sorry for the wait! What are we doing today for little Daisy?” She held her arms out for the Yorkie, taking the dog and showering her with baby talk as she scratched her ears.

  One corner of the man’s mouth rose in a half grin. He pulled aviator sunglasses off the collar of his T-shirt where they’d been tucked and put them on, nodding at Bernice and Savanna. Savanna read the white logo on the back of his jacket as he left: National Air Med Lifeteam.

  Savanna tuned out the chatter between Sydney and Bernice. Her thoughts were spinning. There was no reason to think she’d just seen Aidan’s brother. He couldn’t already be in town; Aidan wasn’t even sure if he was coming to visit.

  “Hello!” Sydney snapped her fingers in front of Savanna’s face, jolting her back to the display counter at Fancy Tails.

  “Hey, use your manners,” Savanna said, pushing her hand away. She waited until Bernice exited. “Who was that guy?”

  “Who knows. Did you hear what he said?”

  “I’m not sure he knew he was being offensive, Syd.” Could it have been Finn? She’d never seen a picture of him.

  “Um, okay, then he’s just rude. He’s not from here, anyway. I know all my customers. Did you come in for something?”

  “I wanted some dog treats. I’m stopping by Caroline’s before I meet Britt—I want to see what she can tell me about Mia James and her son. Have you heard from Skylar yet today?”

  “No. But I’m sure we will. I’ll come with you. Let me package up some chicken churro sticks for Princess and Duke.” She poked her head through the doorway, calling to Willow. “Next appointment isn’t until five—I’ll be back by then. I’m flipping the lunch sign so you won’t have to worry about the store.”

  Savanna clipped Fonzie’s leash onto his collar. “Let’s go see your friends!”

  The short walk passed quickly, and they climbed the wide front steps to Caroline Carson’s front porch. The Carson mansion was gorgeous and impressive, the rear of the house overlooking rolling dunes and the blue waves of Lake Michigan. Before Savanna even knocked, the poodles were at the front door yipping.

  “Come in!” Caroline’s voice came from somewhere toward the back of the house.

  “She still won’t lock her doors,” Savanna whispered to Sydney as they entered. “Even after last year.” Fonzie and the poodles raced through the wide, two-story entry, past the gleaming, curved staircase, and down the hall toward C
aroline.

  Savanna and Sydney found her in the parlor, of course; if Savanna had lived here, she would’ve spent all her time in front of these enormous windows too. The view was breathtaking: sails dotted the lake that looked more like an ocean, and to the far right, a few brightly colored umbrellas were visible in the distance on the public beach. Opposite Caroline’s chair was the large mural of Lake Michigan on the far wall. She’d commissioned Savanna to paint it last fall, just before her ninetieth birthday, in the midst of someone trying to kill her.

  Caroline greeted them with open arms, wrapping them in a hug. She carried her ninety years well. Her white hair was coiffed beautifully, and a tailored yellow blouse was complemented by a yellow and peach scarf and tasteful gold earrings. She let go and stepped back. “You two look wonderful, as always. Tell me everything. What’s new?”

  Sydney sat adjacent to Caroline in the other elegant wingback chair, and Savanna took the adjacent couch.

  “You’ve heard about the poor councilman,” Savanna said. “I suppose that’s new. What else?” She looked at Sydney, widening her eyes. Were they allowed to spill Skylar’s exciting news?

  Sydney squinted, and Savanna knew she was considering. The two of them had always been able to communicate this way, with just a look. “Savanna has a date with your Dr. Gallager this Friday,” Syd told Caroline. “That’s new too.” She smiled sweetly at Savanna.

  “Yes I do,” Savanna said. She’d been thinking about the date all week. Two more days.

  “I’m so happy. I think that’s lovely,” Caroline said. “Is he finished with all that New York craziness? Is he all ours again?”

  “Not quite yet. I think another week or so. He’s showing the ropes to the replacement cardiothoracic surgeon.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t be any longer than that. She hadn’t heard from Aidan since that interrupted phone call Monday night. Every time she thought about it, she pictured him in the backseat of a cab with a beautiful heart surgeon, and her stomach lurched unpleasantly.