Part 23 (1/2)
”It's not scientific, and it definitely wouldn't hold up in court.”
”Don't matter. She's innocent and that's that.”
Stella, meanwhile, was still incredulous. ”So, let me get this straight: you've been sneaking around trying to protect Alma because you thought she shot Weston. Meanwhile, Alma ...” her voice trailed off.
”What?” Mills pressed. ”What about Alma?”
”I can't. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone.”
”If you don't tell me, I'll bring you in for questioning.”
”You! After all you told me ...? You wouldn't dare!”
”Try me,” Mills threatened.
Stella gave in. ”Okay. Alma came over to the camp tonight to tell us she suspected you but didn't want to rat you out to your colleagues.”
”Alma thought I was the murderer? Hmph ... imagine that. And she wanted to protect me?”
”She sure did. The last thing out of her mouth before you showed up was that she didn't want you to find out she suspected you. She was afraid you'd be hurt by it.”
Mills's blue eyes sparkled. ”She was concerned about hurting me?”
”Jeezus, it's like a twisted O. Henry story,” Nick complained. ”Next thing you know, you'll be buying each other combs and pocket watches. Although technically you're both still on the suspect list and none of this nonsense has provided either of you with an alibi, I, for one, think you're both too corny to have shot Weston. Which feels good, because I'm getting kinda attached to you crazy, lovesick kids.”
”Thanks, Nick. Thing that doesn't make me feel good right now is taking Alice Broadman into custody. Woman has a husband and two young children.”
”Do you have enough to arrest her?”
”Not for murder, but she did confess to mortgage fraud, and that's plenty serious these days. Could be in jail for ten years.”
”Those poor people. It's not going to be a very happy weekend in the Broadman household,” Stella sadly remarked.
”Nope. Say, why don't you folks head home? I'll be by in the morning with coffee, and maybe we can talk more about the case, if that's all right,” Mills requested. ”I'd like your input on some things.”
”Sure,” Nick acquiesced. ”What do you think, honey?”
”Sounds good to me.”
Mills nodded in agreement and headed back to the crime scene but not before pausing to shout back to Stella and Nick, ”And hey, thanks. For everything.”
CHAPTER.
16.
AFTER A GOOD night's sleep on the new air mattress, Nick and Stella sat on the front porch of the hunting camp awaiting the arrival of Sheriff Mills and, of equal importance, their morning coffee.
The sun had risen upon another unseasonably warm day, but whereas the previous day had been dry and clear, today's heat was already accompanied by an uncomfortably high level of humidity.
While Nick yawned, stretched, and surveyed the landscape, Stella, seated in one of the Adirondack chairs, continued her st.i.tchery.
”I saw you get up and work on that last night,” he commented.
”Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I was still wound up about Bunny's death and Alice's arrest.”
”Me too, but when I finally crashed, I was out cold.”
”Same here. The st.i.tching helped.”
”What are you making?”
”Oh, just a token for Raymond and Alma for letting us stay at the camp. I figured they could hang it on the wall here once we've gone.”
”That would explain why you've included the word 'beer.'”
She smiled. ”I'll do something a bit girlier for Alma. Then I'll frame them both, wrap them both up, and give them to her with a card.”
”Yeah, a nice Hallmark that reads, 'Thanks for the free food and use of your shower. We're sorry your boyfriend was a jerk, that your neighbor was killed, and that we suspected you of being a homicidal maniac. PS: If you see a flashlight in your latrine, don't ask.'”
”Would I find that in with the sympathy cards or the thank you's?”
”Pretty sure it would be in the 'thinking of you' section. Might find it in with the cute kitten cards too, but I don't know-think a kitten might be over the top?”
”Maybe a little.”
The sound of crunching gravel once again heralded the approach of Sheriff Mills, but unlike the previous evening, this morning found him behind the wheel of a blue Chevy pickup. He brought the truck to a halt beside the Smart car and stepped out of the cab.
”Wow,” Nick remarked. ”Look who's out of uniform. I almost didn't recognize you.”
Mills, clad in faded jeans, sungla.s.ses, a light green b.u.t.ton-down short-sleeve s.h.i.+rt, and a pair of lace-up moccasins, grinned and lifted a tray of coffee from a diner in the next town from the seat beside him. ”My civilian wear,” he announced as he sat down on the porch.
”How'd it go with Alice?” Stella asked.
”Miserable. Tried to keep it low key, no cuffs and no sirens. But the kids woke up 'cause of her crying, and the neighbors saw me take her out. Feds are coming by tomorrow to take over the mortgage fraud charges.”
Nick, dressed in a New York Knicks T-s.h.i.+rt and pair of cargo shorts, sat between the sheriff and Stella. ”What about the murder case?”
”Alice and her husband took the kids to a corn maze and then supper at the bar and grill.”
”So she has an alibi for Bunny's murder.”
”Yup. She's the only one, though. Josh Middleton is still under house arrest for the truck incident, so he was at home watching a Netflix movie-alone-while his mother was at work. Maggie Lawson was out doing who knows what. Jake Brunelle was alone working in his shop. And Betsy Brunelle says she was in Rutland shopping.”
”And we're back at square one,” Stella noted as she put down her st.i.tching and distributed the coffee cups.
”Yup, but it seems you've made some progress in your own investigation.”