Chapter 10

10

“Good morning, Becca,” Bryce said with more cheer than he felt. Her downturned expression said she wasn’t falling for his lackluster performance.

“I’ll grab you a cup of coffee.” She stood up and rounded her desk so fast he had no chance to stop her. Not that he wouldn’t take a cup, but she didn’t need to get him one.

He unlocked his office door, set his briefcase near his desk, and took a seat. For a few brief moments, he sat there. Tried to center his mind into work mode. It sort of helped.

The past week had been a week from hell. He’d been interviewed several more times, each one more intense than the last. They were still trying to trip him up in a lie. But that was the thing. They never would because he’d been honest every single time.

Lila had been interviewed as well, and while he had wanted to ask her how it went, he held back. She might be on his side, but talking about it still worried him. He’d lose his mind if she left him now. She’d become his rock. His focus. Without her near, his entire world would come crumbling down. He knew he shouldn’t put that much significance on one person, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Eric Riner had been interviewed, though he had no idea how that went. He hadn’t been arrested, so they didn’t have enough evidence to say he did it. They had no evidence to round up a good suspect to arrest! Not even Stan, who’d been interviewed and confessed to sleeping with her, had been arrested. He’d had a solid alibi. Passed out with Toby and Carson at their rental place.

While Griffin shouldn’t have told him, he had been privy to a few details of the murder.

The set of icicles from his grandparents were missing. Only the one left in her chest was present. So whoever killed her had taken the box with the rest of the ornaments with them. No prints had been found on the murder weapon. Griffin—and the police—couldn’t figure out why the killer took the box. What was the point?

The time of death had been estimated to be between three and six in the morning on that Saturday. Another thing he had been thankful for was Griffin and his obsession with security cameras. Griffin’s cameras had captured him entering his house a little past two o’clock in the morning and not leaving until eight, as he had told the sheriff. He had an alibi. A pretty damn solid one as Griffin also had cameras in the back of the house. No one had been detected leaving through there either. After the horrifying incident with Eve and her deranged brother, not to mention Mark and his perverted ways, Griffin didn’t take any chances with their safety. It had saved his life from being thrown behind bars.

A total of twenty-eight stab wounds had been found on her body. Which, according to Griffin, indicated a crime of passion. Someone had been in such a rage, they couldn’t stop themselves. He could understand that sentiment. The hell Denise had put him through. The many times she put him down, broke his soul, crushing it without a care. He had no trouble understanding why someone would keep stabbing her. Not that he’d ever capitulate to that extreme. He wasn’t a violent man. He never would be, no matter the soul-crushing hurt dished his way.

Besides that, no other fingerprints, DNA, or latent evidence had been found to point them in a good direction. Unlike Griffin, he hadn’t installed cameras in his driveway or near the front door. Did that make him a bad husband? Not concerned about Denise’s safety like Griffin was with Eve? He didn’t want to answer that question. But it would’ve helped to have the killer on camera entering the house. No footprints were detected by the back door or near any windows, so that meant whoever had entered had done so through the front door. Denise let them in? If so, that meant it was someone they all knew. Someone who lived in town.

He’d taken the week off to avoid the questions swirling around town. It had been a suggestion by Lila—and his family—so he listened. His mind had been mush anyway. Zoning off at times thinking about Denise. About the good times they had. About the way they turned into a couple that couldn’t even stand the sight of each other. About how he could’ve handled things differently. It all left him very confused.

His parents had wanted to come home as well. For the funeral. To support him in general. He declined, talking them out of it. He had enough people around him trying to comfort him, he didn’t need more people in his face. While he loved his parents, when his mom had lived in town, she could smother a little too much. That was the last thing he needed.

“Here you go.” She set his mug down on his desk. “You do have a busy week as I pushed things from last week to this week. You have a meeting at ten with the city commissioner about St. Patrick’s Day. It’ll be here before we know it.”

“Thank you, Becca.” He picked up the mug, nodding in thanks.

She walked out, leaving his door open. It was typically how he went about his day. He felt it signified an open-door policy. Come on in and chat. Today, he wished she would’ve closed it. He wasn’t sure he was ready to mingle with people yet.

He’d had a whole week to hide from the world and it didn’t feel long enough. Juliet’s spare bed was starting to give him a backache, but he couldn’t go home. The thought of walking inside of it gave him the chills. And sleeping in his bed again? No way in hell. He had no idea if Denise had sex with other men in it.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when Lila stepped through the doorway. She wore a beautiful smile, and it was exactly what he needed.

“Can you close the door?”

A lone brow rose because she knew he liked it open, but she didn’t question him. The door shut with a quiet click, and then she sat in the same chair she’d been using since she arrived in town.

He set the mug down again without even taking one sip yet and rubbed a hand down his face. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be to come back to work.”

She made a quick glance at the door, understanding why he wanted it shut. He wasn’t ready for an audience. For anyone.

“You look good though.”

Did he? Because as he stared at himself in the mirror this morning, he saw the bags under his eyes. He saw the shadows hiding in the depths. His hair looked duller, as if the past week had drained all the life out of it. His cheeks were roughly bristled, forgoing shaving this morning because his hands had shook too much. He hadn’t wanted to cut himself. Though his goatee was still visible, so he wasn’t to the full beard stage yet.

He’d seen Lila over the course of the week, but he hadn’t seen her as much as he would’ve liked. He’d stopped by her cottage after visiting Griffin a time or two. Having coffee and chatting. Or she had dropped by Juliet’s, hanging out with them for the evening. Any moment with her, he had soaked up and cherished. She made his world brighter in such dark times.

“You don’t have to come back yet,” she added when he remained silent.

He didn’t know how to respond to the compliment about his looks. He felt terrible, so he imagined he looked the same.

“I also can’t sit around doing nothing anymore. A week was too long to take off. I didn’t even make a statement. I need to do that.”

Lila’s eyes enlarged, her lips pursing in a severe manner. “You will do no such thing. You might be the mayor, but you were also the husband. It won’t look good.”

“I always make a statement,” he muttered, like a child getting reprimanded for being naughty.

Lila relaxed in her seat, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “Okay. What would you say?”

That was a good question. I didn’t kill her. Though that didn’t say much. People would either believe that or they wouldn’t.

“Fine. I won’t make a statement.”

Her head tilted down in a slight nod, her lips curling even further into a delectable smile that he loved witnessing. She was trying so hard not to laugh at him. He wouldn’t even mind because he loved the wondrous sound out of her mouth.

“We have a meeting at ten o’clock with the city commissioner about St. Patrick’s Day.” He shrugged, laughing. “Well, I have a meeting and I want you to come with me. It’s the first holiday since the festival. We need to make this the best damn St. Patrick’s Day Sleighville has ever seen.”

“Of course. That’s three weeks from today. Were we doing something special in between?”

They should. But what? What would help mask and make people forget his wife was murdered?

“Whatever ideas you come up with, you know I will love.”

Her smile wavered. Which meant he said something wrong. It snapped back into place as if it never happened. Odd. But he wouldn’t say anything. Keeping things good between them was all he wanted to do. Because a happy Lila kept her in town.

“Well, Juliet’s cafe will be ready to open full service next week. I’d like to do something big about that.”

Maybe that’s why her smile wavered. Because while he was happy about Juliet making progress on the cafe, he wasn’t happy about who’d been helping her fix the damage.

Aster.

The irritating man hadn’t left town yet.

Though he gave the band a bunch of kudos. They all had pitched in to help her fix the fire damage. If they hadn’t, Bryce figured the cafe wouldn’t be opening next week.

“That’s a great idea.”

“Good!” She picked up her notebook she loved to carry around and jotted something down. “I will contact Harper and have her start shouting out on social media about the reopening. I’ll also talk to Juliet to see if she’ll be having a sale or anything. Something to entice people to come check it out. New people, anyway. I’m sure the regulars will stop by no matter what.”

“Like me, if you say something should be done, Juliet will follow it.”

There it was again. Her smile wavering and springing back to life as if she hadn’t meant to let him see it.

The pressure was mounting. Anytime Bryce told her how much confidence he had in her or how much he loved her ideas, more weight landed on her shoulders. As much as she wanted to pull this town out of its turmoil, she wasn’t a hundred percent positive she’d be able to. Not anymore, anyway. The murder put a huge dent in the progress they had made.

The festival was a success. While the newspapers and social media had positive reviews about it, it had been overshadowed by Denise’s murder. That horrible crime had canceled out all the good they had done. She wasn’t sure how to bounce back from it.

So, she was starting small. The re-opening of the cafe was a good start.

Something she tried to tell her boss this morning. He was ready to pull her from the job. Ready to call it quits and show everyone at the office how much of a failure she was. It wasn’t her fault someone got murdered!

She had managed to talk him out of making her leave, but she was on a short timeline. Three weeks was a long time until St. Patrick’s Day. She didn’t even know if she’d still be here. Not that she had any intention of telling Bryce that. She imagined he’d break down and lose his shit. She felt it to her bones. He was on the precipice of cracking under all the weight he’d been enduring.

“I want to get started on this. I’m going to run to Harper’s office and chat with her. I’ll be back before the ten o’clock meeting.” She stood up, hating the panic that spread across his face. “Should I close the door behind me?”

He glanced at it, then shook his head. “No, it’s fine to leave it open. Thank you for all you do, Lila. I couldn’t do this without you.”

She gave him a weak smile and left before her entire face crumbled. There it was again. The attitude that she was his savior. She couldn’t be. Because if she failed—again—he’d blame her. Those moments she witnessed the desire in his eyes, they would disappear. Disgust would replace it.

She wanted that desire to remain.

In fact, she wanted him to act on it. Kiss her or something. Of course, it was too soon. His wife wasn’t even in the ground yet. Next week she would be, but that would still be rushing it. Like slapping it into people’s faces. Hey, we weren’t sleeping together before but now we plan to! That was the last message she wanted to send. So as much as she wanted Bryce to make a move, it was better he didn’t.

The day went by in a blur. It reminded her of how the days played out when they worked on the festival. So many meetings. So many ideas rolling around the room. She felt better by the end of the day they were making good progress.

Juliet planned to do a buy one get one free sale and have decent-sized samples of all the delicious treats they would sell sprinkled around the cafe.

Harper had the website updated with the re-opening blasted on the front page. She also spread it around the town’s social media channels. She even told Aster to make a shout-out to his fans. If nothing else, they’d fall back on the band’s fans again.

Despite the murder, not all people who had been renting after the festival had fled town. Some had and left horrible reviews. But others stayed. It was those people that gave her hope they still had a chance to make people see Sleighville wasn’t about mayhem and murder. It was, at the heart of it, the town to fill you with Christmas joy.

Though, maybe they should play on the mayhem and murder angle. The town’s name gave off that vibe. But it was too soon to say anything in that respect to Bryce. It would be disrespectful.

The idea didn’t go far away though.

She bid her goodbye to Bryce, who still looked sad and so unsure of himself. Juliet, when she had spoken with her earlier in the day, had invited her to join her, Aster, and the other band members for supper. As much as she would’ve enjoyed hanging with all of them, she wanted time alone.

She needed to be on her A-game for this assignment. It would devastate her—and Bryce—if her boss pulled the plug.

Her cottage looked dark and lonely when she pulled into the driveway. Griffin’s house was lit up inside and out. She still couldn’t get over the fact most houses around town had Christmas decorations and lights on outside. But she had to admit, it made her smile when she looked at them, even if she had seen them a million times already. There was something about Christmas lights that filled a person with exhilaration.

That had another idea popping in her head.

She pulled her notebook and pencil out of her bag as she walked up the sidewalk, scribbling as she went. If she didn’t write something down right away, she’d forget it. Now wasn’t the time to be forgetting things.

The motion sensor lights kicked on as soon as she loomed closer to the door, which had her movements faltering. A small-sized box wrapped like a Christmas present sat on the doorstep. A large red ribbon adorned the top.

Her notebook and pencil disappeared into her bag as her steps drew closer to the odd object. Who would leave her a Christmas gift? It wasn’t even Christmas!

Well, the town celebrated the holiday year-round, so maybe this was a thing some residents did.

Still.

It creeped her out.

She sidestepped the present, unlocked her door, disarmed the alarm, and turned around. For unknown reasons, she didn’t want to pick it up.

She did anyway.

Curiosity would get the best of her if she didn’t see what was inside.

Her bag dropped to the chair around the kitchen table as the box made a slight thump as she set that down as well.

Something told her to open it carefully.

The ribbon untied with ease, drifting to the table. A knife would be better than ripping it open, so she grabbed the largest one she found and carefully sliced the sides open where the tape held it together.

She unfolded the wrapping paper, the paper itself giving her the heebie-jeebies. It was black with red bells and green Christmas wreaths sprinkled all over it. But all she saw was red spots mimicking drops of blood.

Once the box was revealed, she had to slice the tape on top to open. She lifted the flaps and peered inside.

Leave now or you’ll be next.

She stumbled back, gripping the counter to catch her fall.

What the hell?

Who would write something like that and send it to her like a present?

And why?

It didn’t make sense.

What she did know was she couldn’t keep it to herself.

With her shoes and coat still on, she left her house and walked across the lawn. Maybe she was being too jumpy about the entire matter, but it was better to err on the side of caution. A woman had been murdered. They had no suspects yet. What else could the note mean but that? She’d be the next victim.

Eve answered the door after she rang the bell. “Hey, Lila. Come on in.” Her brows drew low as the concern flickered in. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure. Is Griffin home?”

“Yes, of course. Griffin!” Eve hollered, looking down the hallway. He emerged a few seconds later. “Lila stopped by.”

He saw her distress as easily as Eve had. “What happened?”

“Someone gave me a present. I don’t like it.”

“What is it?”

A chill rushed down her spine. She couldn’t say it out loud. That would make it feel morereal. “Can you come look at it? Tell me what you think. Maybe I’m overreacting.”

Doubtful, but in case he thought it was nothing, she had to prepare the stage for herself. She didn’t want to be thought of as a dumb blonde or a woman who freaked easily over foolish nonsense.

He nodded, grabbing his jacket from the closet and slipping on his shoes. He kissed Eve and told her he’d be right back. They walked together back to her cottage, and she let him approach the box by himself. She stood in the kitchen, but far enough away she couldn’t read it herself.

Griffin read the note, his mouth tightening and his eyes filling with rage. “Where was this? Not inside I hope.”

“No, it was waiting on the doorstep.”

Griffin pulled out his phone, fiddling with it for the longest time. She was too afraid to ask what he was doing.

He eventually looked up at her and waved her closer. She didn’t want to come closer, but she also didn’t want it to appear like she was afraid. So she obliged his command. He showed her his phone and hit play on a video.

“Whoever it was knew where the cameras were located. Not to mention they wore a ski mask. The clothing is too bulky to tell if it’s a man or woman.”

She watched the video of the person walk to her door, set the package down, and leave. Their head was down most of the time, but as Griffin had pointed out, they had worn a ski mask anyway to hide their face.

She backed away, not needing to watch it again. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”

“That’s my job to figure out. But that message doesn’t mean anything good.”

Lila swallowed hard before answering. “It means ending up like Denise.”

Griffin gave a sharp nod as if he agreed. “Which we will not let happen.”

Oh, she had every faith in the police department here. Griffin and Duke were fine men who cared about the citizens. As were the other officers she assumed, though she hadn’t had as many dealings with them as she did with Griffin and Duke.

“Why does someone want me to leave? Because of my job?”

Griffin tossed up a shoulder in a careless gesture. “I have no idea. I texted Bryce. He’ll be here soon.”

For some reason, that statement made her even more nervous. And she wasn’t even sure why.

Maybe because Bryce would demand she leave, for her own safety. She wasn’t ready to go.

Not now.

But that would be the worst-case scenario. With the sexual tension between them building every day, she shouldn’t worry he’d ask her to leave. His eyes told her every day he wanted her to come closer, not farther away from him.

Even before this nasty note had been delivered, she wasn’t ready to leave. So no, leaving wasn’t an option.

Whoever was messing with her didn’t know her that well. She didn’t give up.

She would see this through to the very end.