Behind the Frame Read online

  “About time he comes home. I’m starting to feel a bit neglected. I imagine you are too, dear.”

  Savanna’s cheeks burned. “No! Oh, Caroline.” She laughed. “We’re really just friends. We’re still getting to know each other. Truly. I don’t feel neglected.” That was a lie.

  Caroline was scrutinizing her. “Well. Even so. We’ll be glad when his attentions are back where they belong, won’t we?”

  She threw a look at Sydney. Her little sister had gotten what she’d wanted—to make Savanna squirm. Some things never changed. “Did Sydney mention she broke up with Brad?”

  “No! Oh, my.” She extended a hand out to Sydney, taking hers and giving it a good squeeze. “Relationships are never simple, are they? Are you doing all right? I’m sure it’s been difficult.”

  Syd leaned back in her chair, letting the table lamp between the chairs block Caroline’s view. She mouthed clearly to Savanna, I will kill you. “I’m fine, Caroline. We just weren’t right for each other. It was for the best—we talked yesterday, and I think he sees that now too. But it’s so fantastic of Savanna to bring you up to date.”

  Caroline patted the chair beside her, and Princess hopped up, fitting her little white furry body into the space. “All right. You two are still pinching each other when my back’s turned. Tell me how your parents are. How’s Skylar?”

  Syd gave Savanna a nod, shrugging.

  “Skylar’s expecting!” Savanna said. “They just told us. She’s due in October. I know she’d have liked to tell you herself,” she added, loving how Caroline’s eyes lit up with this genuinely good news. “But she’s so busy right now, between work and—” Could they say anything about Chef Joe?

  Sydney took over. “Just between us, Skylar’s tied up in the case with the councilman’s murder. They’ve made an arrest, but she’s convinced they’ve got the wrong person.”

  Caroline’s gaze went from Sydney to Savanna. “A new baby? Skylar and her husband must be over the moon. I’ll have to start a blanket. I do hope she isn’t stressing herself. And if Skylar feels the wrong person’s in custody, then I’m sure she’s right.” She held up a hand as Savanna started to speak. “I don’t need to know, not if it hasn’t been made public yet. She’d want you to keep that confidential.”

  “You’re right. We have some questions, though. We thought you might be able to help.”

  “You know so much about this town and all that happens here,” Sydney added. “We were hoping you might tell us about John Bellamy’s ex-wife, Mia James? And maybe about her son?”

  “Ah. I see,” Caroline said. “I don’t suppose you remember much about them, do you?”

  “Neither of us can recall her son in school. He must be around our age?”

  Caroline pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Remington must’ve been eight or nine years old when they divorced. It was a bad one. I remember a lot of dirty laundry, accusations being thrown back and forth; never a good thing in a town the size of ours. I always felt Mia got the worst of it. She let him win. I don’t think she could handle half the town gossiping about her. She took the boy and left—I heard she moved out west somewhere. She came back without her son.”

  Savanna leaned closer to Caroline, enthralled. “She came back without him? When? Where was he?”

  Caroline took a sip from her tea cup. “Mia stayed away a good ten years. When she returned, she told everyone Remington was away at college. This must’ve been after you left for Chicago, Savanna.”

  “Why did she come back?” Sydney asked.

  “Mia has a sister here. She teaches at the high school—Kimberly something. I’m sure she missed being near family. The boy did come home once, I remember.”

  Savanna and Sydney hung on every word; neither spoke.

  “Now, that would’ve been when Mia opened Mitten Inn. When was that? Five or six years ago? He worked in the kitchen for a time when the inn opened. The boy could certainly cook. Mr. Carson and I made a habit of having Sunday dinners there. Word was he’d gone to some fancy culinary school Mia paid for. Money well spent, if you ask me. One can always tell when the chef truly loves his work, and I believe Remington did. Does,” Caroline corrected. “But one Sunday, Mr. Carson and I went for dinner at Mitten Inn, and it was terrible. Mia’s son had gone. That was…I suppose it was about four years ago, around the time Nolan was born.”

  “But why? Why come home and then leave again? Didn’t John have a say in any of this?”

  Caroline sighed. “There was some kerfuffle at the inn. I still don’t know details. We met the young man a couple of times. He was nothing but respectful. He was a bit quiet, kept to himself, but who could blame him after all he’d been through, growing up? Anyway. Mia’s son was gone before the town could even churn whatever had happened into a good piece of gossip. I really don’t know much more. But it strikes me as sad, the way…” She frowned and stopped abruptly, tipping her tea cup up to finish it.

  Savanna and Sydney waited.

  Caroline’s gaze went to the mural. “I wish John had reconciled with his son before he died. It just seems a shame. He never approved of Remington’s choices. The boy got himself accepted at Yale but instead went to Europe, and believe me, the whole town heard about how angry John was with him. I think that’s why he’d have nothing to do with his son when he worked at Mitten Inn. I wonder if they had any contact at all when he came back again and started working for Chef Joe.”

  Savanna exchanged glances with Sydney, who gave her the second affirmative nod in the last half hour. “Caroline, you do need to know; it’s going to come out soon enough. Joe Fratelli was arrested for the murder of John Bellamy.”

  Caroline’s hand went to her throat. “No.”

  Savanna placed a hand on Caroline’s arm. “I know. We’re finding a way to get him cleared. There’s no way he did it.”

  “Of course not,” she said. “Though I’m sure their history isn’t helping his case. Oh, I wish I could do something!”

  “What history?” Savanna asked, at the same time Sydney said, “Whose history?”

  “Mia’s and Joe’s. Sydney, you don’t remember? They dated for several months.”

  Syd was shaking her head. “I had no idea. This is really not going to help Joe. I wonder if Skylar knows.”

  Savanna made Caroline more tea before they left, and Sydney put the dog treats in the refrigerator after giving one to each poodle. They hugged Caroline goodbye with promises to come back next week.

  The half-mile trip back to Fancy Tails, past the town park with poor headless Jessamina and back up Main Street, was filled with wild speculation.

  “Mia dated Chef Joe?” Savanna asked.

  “John basically disowned his son?”

  “And for what? For doing what he loved?”

  “So Remy’s been in and out of Carson for years?” Skylar shook her head.

  “But what happened at Mitten Inn?”

  “And how did we not know Remy was John’s son?”

  “They were at the banquet together! In the same room together!”

  “Savanna, you’d become friends with John. You had no idea he had a son?”

  “He never said a word! There’s nothing in his house, no personal photos, just a few pieces of art on the walls.”

  “Could Remy have done something awful?”

  “What?” Savanna asked. “What would be awful enough you’d have to move away?”

  Sydney said nothing. She stared at Savanna in silence.

  “Okay, no,” Savanna said. “We’re letting our imaginations get away from us. Whatever he did couldn’t have been awful awful. His mom wouldn’t have taken him back. Chef Joe wouldn’t have hired him. He’d have gone to jail!”

  “What if he did?”

  Now Savanna was quiet.

  “How long was he gone that time?” Skylar asked. �
�Between when Nolan was born, so four years ago and just recently? Where was he?”

  “Better question. Why would he want to kill his father?”

  “Bad blood? Years of being treated like a bad son,” Sydney said.

  “No. If that’s true, then why frame the one man who believed in him enough to give him a job?”

  “Skylar said there were other prints on the knife. Remember? Maybe Remy didn’t intend to frame Chef Joe.”

  “So he just recklessly stole the knife and murdered the councilman with it?” Savanna shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Syd put a hand on the door to Fancy Tails. “None of this does.”

  Savanna’s phone buzzed. “I’ve got to run—I’m meeting Britt.”

  “Is Detective Jordan letting you into the councilman’s house to get the art submissions?”

  “No. Not yet. He says another day or two. He has to be with us. I get it. It’s just going to delay the process; Britt and I will have to buckle down and get through all of them this weekend and send out the notifications by Monday morning.”

  “I’d offer to help, but you and Britt are better off without me. I know zip about art,” Sydney said. “You’re finalizing the menu at Giuseppe’s tonight, right?”

  “We are.”

  “Be careful.”

  Chapter Nine

  The last day of school before summer vacation began with Aidan. Savanna’s wet hair was wrapped up in a towel and she’d just pulled on a summery, periwinkle blue A-line dress when her phone rang, showing Aidan on FaceTime, waiting for her to answer. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, eyes wide and cheeks still flushed from her steaming shower. She’d been missing him all week and was excited about their date tonight, but the idea of Aidan seeing her without a stitch of makeup didn’t thrill her.

  She took a deep breath and pressed the green Accept button. His grinning face filled the screen, and she instantly smiled back at him, trying to ignore the thumbnail video in the bottom corner of the screen of her with a pink towel on her head. “Good morning,” she said. It was only 6:45.

  “Good morning to you. I’m glad I didn’t wake you.”

  Savanna took the towel off her head and shook her damp hair out, making a brief effort to finger-comb it. “You’re up early too! Are you on your way in for rounds?” She was learning about a doctor’s schedule since getting to know Aidan. Often, by the time a doctor arrived for clinic hours, they’d already spent an hour or two checking on their patients in the hospital.

  He nodded in response to her question. “Yes, we’re leaving for rounds in a few minutes. But I wanted to show you something.”

  Savanna caught his use of the word “we.” Apparently she’d been right, imagining Aidan sharing cab rides with the impressive new surgical chief. It sounded as if they commuted from the same apartment complex.

  Aidan was off screen for a moment, reaching for something. He reappeared, holding up an airline ticket. “Look.”

  Gosh, he was cute. Only a man would think to video call someone this early in the morning. His blue eyes were bright and his jawline was smooth, freshly shaved. He’d taken care of his neglected, unruly hair at some point in the last few days since she’d seen him; it was once again close cropped everywhere but on top, his black waves now shorter and more tamed. Savanna squinted at the ticket between his fingers.

  “Can you read it?” he asked.

  “It says you leave out of LaGuardia today at 3:55.”

  He pointed at words in the upper corner. “It says One-Way.”

  She was processing. “You— Aidan, so you’re coming home? To stay?”

  “Yes. To stay.”

  Savanna felt a rush of tears fill her eyes and she sucked in her breath, swallowing hard. Her cheeks burned as she blinked once, twice, carefully, trying to appear natural. She was just blinking. Everyone did it. Oh, she didn’t want Aidan to see the effect he’d just had on her; it hit her out of the blue. She smiled at him, eyes clearer now. “I can’t believe it!” Her voice sounded thick in her own ears, but hopefully that didn’t come through on his end.

  “I’m not sure I do, either.” He grinned. “But the chief is up and running. She’s doing great, she’s got hospital policy down pat, the board loves her. We think she’s good to go. If I do need to go back, it’ll only be a day or two in the next month. That’s it.”

  “I’m so happy, Aidan. That’s amazing news. Wait until Mollie hears!”

  He nodded. “Just in time for summer vacation. I can’t wait to see you.” He tipped his head a little. “I miss you. Are you ready for your last day? You look beautiful.”

  She laughed. “Okay.” He was nuts, but she wasn’t going to argue. “I am beyond ready. The last week of school is always intense.”

  “I believe it. Mollie couldn’t sit still when I talked to her last night. She’d better be behaving for you.”

  “Always. Don’t worry. They’re all just squirrely—” she broke off as she heard a knock on his door.

  He stood, and the vantage point on Savanna’s screen shifted. He was walking to the door. “I’ve got to run, Savanna, but I’ll see you soon.” The screen was filled with a view of his living room, a gray couch and chair in front of a large window, as she heard him open the door. He reappeared, turning the phone on his end from himself to the woman at the door. “Savanna, meet Alison, Alison, this is my—this is Savanna.”

  Savanna’s heart flipped over, dropped into her stomach and then settled back into its rightful place in her chest again, with that one sentence and the woman on her screen. This is my what? And the new chief of surgery wasn’t quite what she’d pictured; she was even prettier. In the split-second glimpse on the screen, Savanna caught sleek, straight blond hair, fine-boned features, a crisp white collar under black lapels.

  Savanna’s hand automatically raised in a small wave. “Hi, Alison.” To which she heard the woman’s reply, “Nice to meet you, Savanna,” as the view shifted again.

  Aidan’s smile filled the screen. “Tonight. Eight o’clock? I’ll pick you up.”

  “Safe flight, Aidan.” She quickly tapped the red button, and her screen went black.

  Savanna stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was drying in long, tangled brown waves. She tried to see herself as Aidan had. Without mascara and lipstick, her changeable hazel eyes wide and unadorned and her lips bare, she looked younger than her thirty years. The cap sleeves and round scalloped collar on her periwinkle dress displayed a delicate gold compass necklace, a college graduation gift from her parents, between her collarbones. Since coming home to Carson, she’d stopped wrestling with her natural waves, trying to force them to be smooth and straight and something they weren’t. She’d stopped using the heavy eye makeup from her days at Kenilworth Museum in Chicago, opting for a more natural look. Savanna applied her mascara, swiped blush over her cheekbones and used her rose blossom lipstick. She gently detangled her damp hair, using a sparkly gold clip to pin it back from her face. She checked her reflection once more before leaving for school.

  She looked nice. She looked—and felt—like Savanna Shepherd.

  “And I’m good with that,” she said to her reflection.

  While she ate breakfast alone in Sydney’s kitchen, Savanna typed a quick email to Yvonne, John Bellamy’s assistant. She’d cringed at the thought of calling her this early; email was less intrusive. She’d woken this morning with an idea about John Bellamy’s murder, and Yvonne might have key information without even knowing it.

  By lunchtime, Savanna felt more like a zookeeper than an elementary art teacher. So far, she’d extracted two disgusting, sticky wads of gum from two separate heads of hair in her first grade class, she’d broken up a fight between two third graders over whose pool party would be better this weekend, and she’d confiscated items from two students: one cell phone, and one live frog.r />
  She still had half a day to go.

  The last fifth grader left for the cafeteria and Savanna rolled her chair backward to the blue plastic bucket on the floor behind her desk, peering over the edge. The small green frog inside stared back at her. He leaped into the air, one of dozens of valiant escape attempts he’d made this past hour, making Savanna jump and then laugh at herself.

  “Okay, little guy. Let’s go.” She carried the bucket by the handle across the hall into the library.

  Jack Carson was unpacking his sack lunch on the library counter. “Are we eating together today? Your lunch box is so fashionable.” He eyed the bucket. They did often meet for lunch in the library, though Savanna hadn’t brought hers today; she’d planned to grab something in town.

  “No. Shortcut. Sorry. Can’t talk,” Savanna said, trying to maintain a smooth gait. She didn’t want to jar the bucket and help her friend escape before she got him outside.

  “You know, you always have strange reasons for using my library as a shortcut.” He came around the counter and followed her, catching up and looking in the bucket. “Well, that’s a new one. Are we taking him for a walk?”

  “Yes. Back outside where he belongs. I’ve decided his name is Frank. That kid Ethan had him in his pocket. His pocket.” She looked at Jack. “No idea how long he was in there, poor little thing.”

  “All right, that justifies your use of the shortcut.” He held the door open for her, letting them out into the hallway at the bus lot exit.

  They went through the set of double doors out into perfect sunny weather. They crossed the parking lot to the trees where Savanna had helped her classes search for their nature mobile supplies this week.

  She stopped in the long grass just before the tree line and turned the bucket onto its side. “Frank, be free!”

  Nothing happened. She and Jack watched the bucket but the frog didn’t emerge. Savanna bent down and looked inside to find him sitting comfortably on the blue plastic, staring at her. She sighed. She reached in to pick him up.