Chapter 8

8

Bryce looked up from his phone when his brother strolled into the kitchen. Griffin frowned at him, then headed for the coffee pot.

“Why are you in my house? And how did I not hear the alarm go off?”

Bryce chuckled, setting his phone down and picking up his mug, taking a sip. “You must’ve been in a dead sleep because I came inside around two in the morning.”

Griffin turned around from the coffee pot, mug in hand, and took a sip before replying. “Why were you even around here at that time? I thought you were staying at Juliet’s. Did you two argue about something?”

Because Griffin knew Bryce didn’t like her having a relationship with Aster. He hadn’t given his opinion about it yet. Which Bryce took to mean he didn’t care. Maybe Bryce cared more because Aster didn’t like him, while he had no issue with Griffin.

“No. I drove Lila home last night and I stayed to watch a movie. We both fell asleep. When I woke up at two, I left. I didn’t feel like driving all the way to Juliet’s, so I crashed here. I hope that was okay.”

Griffin chuckled. “You’re always welcome here.” He paused, eyeing him as if weighing his next words. “When does Lila leave? I know her brother and his crew leave today.”

“We’ll be talking about that on Monday. We’re taking a much-needed break.”

His brother was kind enough not to add anything else. He didn’t have the mental energy to have a conversation about his attraction to her. When she had offered her couch last night, he nearly caved. It would’ve kept him closer to her. And that was not something he could let happen. Not while he was still married. He might be getting a divorce, but he took his vows seriously. He wouldn’t step out of line, even if Denise didn’t hold the same belief.

“So what are you doing today?” Griffin asked.

He knew his brother and Eve had the weekend off. No doubt they’d be spending it together doing whatever they loved doing together. They were inseparable, and he hated to admit how much that made him jealous. Despite loving Denise in the beginning of their marriage, he couldn’t say they were ever inseparable.

“I might supervise and check in on the clean-up today.”

Griffin lowered his mug to the counter, heading to the fridge. “Or you could take the day off like you told Lila you were doing. You know they can handle the clean-up. You work too much, Bryce.”

Yeah, but if it kept him busy, it also kept him away from Lila. While he’d mentioned finishing the movie, he knew it wasn’t a good idea.

“Maybe. First, I need to run home and grab more clothes.”

The fridge door shut hard, making Bryce flinch. The tight expression Griffin wore wasn’t hard to decipher, especially when he vocalized his feelings. “She should be the one vacating the house. Not you.”

Bryce stood up, went to the sink, and poured out his coffee. “I don’t want to have this conversation right now.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It upsets me to see you hurting like this.”

He swiveled around from the sink, producing a smile he didn’t feel. He knew Griffin saw through it right away.

“Have a good day with Eve. We’ll chat later.”

He left before his brother could say anything else about Denise. Of course, it wasn’t fair he was the one being booted out of the house. But sometimes it was easier to let her have her way. He was tired. Exhausted and mentally drained dealing with her antics. He couldn’t wait until the divorce was finalized. Fighting over the house—one he bought with his money—didn’t even feel worth it. He wanted to wipe his hands of her.

It was eight o’clock in the morning. Too early to be up after such a long week and barely any sleep last night. He’d tossed and turned more than he liked at Griffin’s. So he figured knocking on Lila’s door right now wouldn’t be wise. She’d still be asleep. Plus, he was supposed to be keeping his distance. He fought the urge to look at the cottage.

He drove slower than normal toward his house, praying the entire way Denise would be gone. He had no desire to deal with her.

His heart sank when he saw her car in the driveway. It was going to be one of those days. Parking next to her, he sat for a minute before even turning the car off. He had to find some calm and center himself before he walked inside.

When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, the air felt off. He couldn’t explain why. The lights were off. The alarm hadn’t been set. Though Denise had been known to forget to set it now and again. The place was silent. Eerily silent.

She wasn’t a late sleeper. She woke up at the crack of dawn, even on the weekends when she didn’t have to work.

Unless she wasn’t home, even though her car was in the driveway.

“Denise?”

Nothing but silence echoed back.

He tossed his car keys in the bowl on the bench near the door, then jaunted up the stairs. The sooner he packed some clothes, the better chance he wouldn’t run into her. He passed the bathroom and spare room with quick steps, and didn’t pause in his long strides until he entered the main bedroom. The bed was made, but no sign of Denise. Even the lights to the master bathroom were off. He hadn’t heard any noise in the kitchen. So where was Denise?

Most likely she slept the night at her lover’s place. He obviously picked her up last night. Disgusting how she was being so blatant about her affair now that the divorce proceedings were in motion.

Whatever. He’d be grateful he didn’t have to deal with her.

Grabbing a suitcase from the closet, he figured he’d pack as much as he could. Less chance for him to have to come back and run into her.

That’s what his life had come down to. Being afraid of seeing his soon-to-be ex-wife.

Though he wanted to be quick, he took his time folding his clothes before setting them in the suitcase. He zipped it up and grabbed it by the handle. He swiped a few more suit jackets as well and left the room. He set the clothes and suitcase by the front door, deciding to check the kitchen for her. He didn’t like how quiet the house sounded.

She didn’t generally let other people drive her around. She liked being in control of every little thing. If her car was here, it meant she had to be here. He found it odd if Eric had picked her up. But, of course, what did he know about Denise anymore? They’d grown apart.

The smear of blood on the entryway into the living room made him pause. Even with the lights out, he could see the evidence marring the wooden frame. He flicked the light switch, confirming his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

Bryce let out a slow breath and made his way inside the room with quiet footsteps. He didn’t see her body until he rounded the couch. Denise lay on the floor near the Christmas tree. Still undecorated, the branches bare besides the specks of blood. Her body was positioned at a disjointed angle. Blood covered the room everywhere. The ceiling, the walls, the floor, the couch. The boxes of decorations that hadn’t been unpacked yet. The weapon still embedded in her chest told him how she died.

Somehow, he found himself moving closer to get a better look. He wasn’t sure what was protruding out of her chest.

An icicle.

A Christmas ornament meant to hang on the tree. A tree she had meant to look merry for some odd reason.

He knew the icicle well. It was part of a set. Six total icicles. They were crystal glass, about ten inches long. Very delicate. At least he had thought so. If one was sticking out of her chest, they weren’t as delicate as he thought. His grandparents had purchased them overseas on their honeymoon when they went to Prague. When his grandma passed, his grandpa had passed down the things that meant a lot to them to each one of his grandchildren. Bryce had gotten the crystal icicles.

Now they were tarnished, used as a murder weapon.

That thought jarred him out of his stupor.

Denise was dead!

He backed out with wobbly legs, his hand shaking as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. His fingers fumbled on the screen until he managed to find Griffin’s number.

“Did you forget something or is she already giving you problems?”

“She’s dead.”

His brother inhaled a sharp breath and neither spoke a moment.

“What do you mean?”

He’d moved away, circling the couch, but he could still see her. Her vacant eyes staring at the ceiling. The droplets of blood on her cheeks. The sharp angle of the icicle as it protruded from her chest.

“I mean, she’s lying on the living room floor with blood everywhere and an icicle in her chest.”

“A what?”

Bryce swallowed, continuing around the couch, unable to look at her anymore. “The icicle ornaments Grandpa gave me. The ones from Prague.”

Griffin sighed. “I know the ones. Do not touch anything. Do you hear me, Bryce? Nothing.”

He didn’t need to be told that. He knew what would happen here. The husband was always the first suspect. It didn’t help they were going through a nasty divorce.

“I haven’t. Just the front door to get inside. Well, the closet too. I packed a suitcase. But hell, Griffin, I live here. My prints are everywhere.”

“Don’t touch anything. Go outside and wait for me. I’ll be right there. I’ll call the county to investigate this. It’s a conflict of interest for me. You understand that, right?”

Yeah, he understood everything.

He turned around and walked as quickly out of the house as he’d walked in.

“Bryce? Did you hear me?” Griffin asked. He could hear the sound of a door slam, so he knew his brother was already in the car and leaving.

“I’m a suspect. I know, Griffin. I didn’t kill her.”

Griffin groaned. “I know that. Everyone will know that.”

He doubted that.

Maybe people in town who really knew him would believe his innocence.

But others?

Like Lila.

What were the chances she’d believe his innocence?

And what were the odds she wouldn’t run away the moment she heard the news?

She rolled out of bed, blindly grabbing for her robe hanging behind the bedroom door, annoyed at whoever wanted to knock at such an unreasonable time in the morning. When she glanced at the clock on her nightstand, she figured she wouldn’t ream the person too much. Nine thirty wasn’t too early. She was used to getting up and at City Hall by eight the past two and a half weeks. But after a long day yesterday and sleeping fitfully after Bryce left, she wasn’t ready to get out of bed.

To be safe, she looked through the peephole before opening the door. She was surprised to see Aster standing there. The band wasn’t leaving until noon as they had booked an evening flight out of town.

She undid the alarm and opened the door.

His harried expression confused her, and when he crushed her into his arms, that further baffled her.

“Thank God you’re all right. I was so worried.”

She frowned, prying herself out of his arms. “I don’t know what is wrong with you, but I’m too tired for whatever this is.” She waved her hand in a circle, gesturing toward him, and shut the door with a little too much force.

She beelined it for the kitchen. She needed coffee for whatever nonsense he was talking about.

“So you didn’t hear?”

Her hand paused on the cupboard door, looking at her brother. “Spit it out. Whatever drama is going on around town, I don’t care.”

“Bryce murdered his wife.”

The coffee container slipped from her fingers. Unfortunately, she had taken off the lid. Coffee grounds scattered all over the floor.

“He did not.”

Aster stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “He found her body.”

“That doesn’t make him a killer. And what was with the worry about me?” She slammed a hand to her hip. “So you think he killed his wife and he would also hurt me. Why?! Why would he do either of those things?”

Aster opened his mouth, then closed it. Clearly not having a good enough answer for her.

“How do you even know this happened?”

“Griffin called Juliet.”

She rolled her eyes, then swept her gaze over the coffee mess. So much for a cup of java. Something she desperately needed.

“And you were with her when he called.” She shoved past him, not even caring she’d clipped his shoulder, and grabbed the broom from the tiny closet.

With jerky movements, she swept the coffee mess into a small pile.

“Stay away from him.”

Her hands tightened on the handle as she glared at her brother. “No matter how difficult things might’ve gotten between them, he would never have hurt her. Not even a little bit. So don’t stand there and tell me what to do.”

“You barely know the guy!”

“Same goes for the sister, and yet that didn’t keep her out of your bed!”

The muscles in Aster’s cheek pulsed, telling her he was exerting all his energy to keep his cool. They’d gotten into some volatile arguments. Words could fly without thinking things through. They’d had to apologize to each other more times than she could count on two hands. But they always moved on. They loved each other. But right now, she wanted to hit her brother over the head with the broom for thinking such disgusting thoughts about Bryce.

Aster turned toward the closet and grabbed the dustpan, stooping down to set it up next to the pile of coffee grounds. This time she had to use all her energy not to swipe them into his face. But that would be childish, and she knew why he was acting this way. Because he cared about her and he couldn’t help his overprotectiveness when it emerged.

They cleaned the mess up in silence. Aster took a seat at the table while she washed her hands. When she turned around from the sink, he looked crestfallen.

“I’m sorry, Lilac. My temper got the better of me. I don’t like the guy.”

“He hasn’t done anything to garner your dislike.”

Aster shrugged. “I don’t like any guy that looks at you like he does.”

That produced a tiny smile on her end, which helped form one on him as well. That statement couldn’t be truer. Aster had an issue with any guy that she, Poppy, or Zinnia dated. He was too mollycoddling, and she knew he couldn’t help it.

“Juliet said Griffin called in the county to investigate it. I can respect him for that.”

“Did you tell Juliet your suspicions that her brother did it?”

Aster looked chagrined, glancing away.

“So you have no issue sleeping with her, but you don’t have the guts to tell her you think her brother is a killer.”

“What makes you think he didn’t do it? It’s normally the spouse.”

She understood why Aster would jump to that conclusion. Why others who didn’t know Bryce would as well. And she couldn’t say she knew Bryce, like all heart and soul. But what she did know in the short time she’d known him was he could never hurt another living soul, even if he had no other options. He wasn’t that kind of person.

“I know in my gut he didn’t. And if I say he didn’t, my brother should trust me enough to be on my side.”

Aster stood up, stepping closer to her. “I think it’s time you leave this town. I’d feel better if you did.”

“You know I can’t now.”

He shook his head, wanting to deny the truth.

“Aster, this murder just canceled out the amazing festival we had. I can’t leave.” She left off adding Bryce to the end of that sentence. She couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

He closed the distance, gripping her shoulders. “I’m not leaving yet either.”

That was the last thing she needed.

But once he got something in his head—like her—there was no stopping him.

“You’re not staying here.”

He chuckled, then pulled her in for another hug. This time she didn’t push him away. She soaked up his love, appreciating the fact he cared so much, but despising it at the same time.

He stepped away first this time.

“I don’t foresee the other guys leaving yet either. We’ll stay at the place we have, as long as it’s not rented out to someone else.”

“Why would they stay too?” Her brows drew low as she crossed her arms. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Aster blew out a breath, chuckling with no humor behind it. “Lucky for Bryce, there is more than one suspect. There’s the dude she was sleeping with. I can’t remember his name.” His gaze swept across the floor, telling her he was nervous to admit the next suspect.

“I know you’re not that stupid since you wouldn’t sleep with two women at once, but which other band member did?”

His gaze shot to her. “Stan. I told him not to even go there, but she had an effect on men. I will make sure he tells the police everything, but I know he didn’t do it.”

“Okay, he didn’t do it. Bryce didn’t do it. Perhaps the lover did.”

Aster snapped his fingers as if saying, “Bingo!” “Not to mention, if she was sleeping with the lover and Stan, who’s to say she wasn’t sleeping with any other guys?”

She waggled her hand in his face like she wanted to slap him. And the urge was so strong she had to back away from him. “How dare you come in here, right off the bat, accusing Bryce, when you knew there were more possible people who could’ve done it. Don’t ever reference his name with that crime again.”

He nodded. “Only for you.”

“Now go find me some coffee while I shower. It’s your fault I don’t have any.”

She left the room, Aster’s laughter trailing behind her.