“No. I just… I saw, or I heard, Brett coughing, or gasping. I think he choked on something.”
“Sounds pretty open and shut,” Charlie said, studying my face. He could see that I wasn’t saying something.
“Yep,” I said, because I wanted this to be true.
He kept his eyes on me for a moment longer, but then one of his officers approached. Her badge readDeputy, and I recognized her as the woman Charlie had been chatting with at the Spoonful Diner before I’d left for vet school. We’d only been dating a month at that point, and he hadn’t even introduced me.
“Did you need something?” Charlie had asked me, as I approached their table. I’d walked away without answering, debating whether I would answer a call from the sheriff ever again.
Of course, I’d relented and given him a chance to explain himself. Later that night over a piece of pie I’d refused to share, Charlie had explained that she was his former police partner, now back as his deputy. I’d tried not to seem jealous, but it was hard when his second-in-command looked like Snow White and smelled like strawberries and vanilla. Harder still knowing they spent more time together than Charlie and I ever could.
Today, she wore a uniform, her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she didn’t have on any makeup, but she was just as stunning. I hated that I noticed.
“The medics called the time of death,” the deputy said to Charlie, ignoring my presence entirely as she leaned close enough that even I caught a whiff of her minty breath. “I told them to move the body backstage since it’s the closest place out of the sight of the guests.”
“Got it,” Charlie responded, surveying the ballroom. As he took in the clusters of people and the décor, I could see an invisible veil fall across his features.
The deputy somehow leaned even closer to Charlie, her eyes landing on his in a way that said she knew him well and trusted him without reservation. “I’m not certain that this was an accident,” she said in a low voice.
I watched him turn to her, saw some unspoken message pass between them.
“Understood,” Charlie said, and then he turned and followed her through the ballroom and backstage without even a glance behind to reassure me that everything would eventually be okay.
THREE
A man lay dead, and here I was obsessing over my boyfriend… or whatever he was to me. I forced my gaze to sweep the room, to focus on what was in front of me instead of the chaos in my head. Somewhere in this crowd of former classmates was a person who might’ve wanted Brett Brinkley dead.
Joe Larson was now back behind the bar, serving up shots of bourbon, which was probably a good idea after the attendees had watched one of their own perish right in front of them.
Presley Lombardi was on her phone, speaking in hushed tones to someone on the other end of the line, occasionally hiccupping soft sobs.
The cameraman, Lee Frank, was slouching near the stage, seemingly confused as to what to do now that their camera subject was gone, and Mina was sitting behind him, a pinched expression on her face as she continued to stare at the camera screen.
Savilla was directing a server to place trays of hors d’oeuvres on long tables in the back.
Our former class president held hands with a few others and seemed to be finishing a prayer circle. This was Valerie Hurt, née Warren, who had returned home with a husband a few yearsago to take a position as a third-grade teacher at the elementary school in town.
She was very pregnant with their first child and very proud of the fact, rubbing her belly as—the prayer circle now disbanded—she walked over with her husband, whom I’d never actually met.
She sank her off-kilter frame down into one of the covered chairs, and her husband followed behind her, grabbing another chair and placing her swollen feet on the seat. He did all of this without a word, and for his efforts she gave him a scowl.
“My husband, Will.” Valerie motioned at him by way of introduction.
“Will Hurt?” I repeated.
She nodded as if this was an absolutely normal name, as if anyone who met him wasn’t thinking,This Will Hurt.
Valerie patted the seat next to her, and I felt compelled to sit. “How are you?”
“Um… not great,” I answered.
Valerie shot me a pitying look. “I’m so glad that I have a chance to chat with you, especially after all this.” She peered into my eyes as if she was about to confess to murder.
I had the urge to stand and call for Charlie, but I would wait. I inched forward, anticipating her next words.
“Well, it’s just… I haven’t seen you at church in forever,” Valerie finished.
I sat back. That was not what I’d expected.
