every moment since she’d arrived in town. Staring at the word Investigation that she’d written across the top of the page, she wished she would have listened more carefully to Lainie’s phone calls in recent weeks.
Most of the time when Lainie called it had been late and Melody had been tired. She’d often listened to her sister’s stream-of-consciousness chatter with only half an ear.
She wished she could go back a week or two and really listen to what Lainie had been saying, listen to whom she’d been seeing and where she’d been going. Somewhere in those conversations there might have been a clue to the killer’s identity.
Drawing a deep sigh, she started a final list and at the top of the sheet of paper she wrote the word Suspects. She needed to stop by the bar where Lainie had worked as a bartender off and on for the past five years. Maybe one of the waitresses or some of the customers would know whom she’d been seeing at the time of her death.
She took a sip of her coffee, her thoughts lingering on one particular man. She’d been charmed by Hank’s daughter. Maddie was outspoken and obviously sharp as a knife—and her grief over Lainie’s death had been heartbreaking.
And Hank Tyler had all the characteristics of a heartbreaker. Handsome as sin with an underlying simmering energy and—at least on the surface—a sensitive man. Under different circumstances she might have been interested in him.
But Melody had one rule in life. She never dated men who had dated her sister. She now had a new rule to add to the first. She didn’t date men who were potential murder suspects.
She stared at the list titled Suspects and added the first name. Hank Tyler.
Hank knocked on Lainie’s door at precisely two o’clock. Melody answered with her purse slung over her shoulder and her car keys in her hand.
“I thought we could talk over coffee out,” she said and stepped out of the town house. She firmly pulled the door shut behind her.
“Okay,” he said with a touch of surprise. “Anyplace in particular you want to go?”
“Is the café still there on Main Street?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s still there.” There was only one.
She nodded. “Then if you don’t mind, we’ll go there.”
He shrugged. “All right by me. It would probably be best if I take my own car because I need to pick up Maddie from the birthday party in two hours.”
Hank followed Melody’s rental car to the popular café. While he was driving, he realized the reason she’d wanted to speak with him out in public. She thought he might be Lainie’s killer.
And why wouldn’t she regard him with suspicion? Somebody Lainie knew, somebody she had either let into her condo or who had used a key to enter, had killed her. Melody knew he had a key and he’d told her he’d been close to Lainie. She’d be a fool not to suspect him.
Maybe over coffee he could convince her that he had no reason to kill Lainie, that it had been Lainie who had brought laughter back to his life after it had been missing for too long.
Even though the lunch rush was over, there were few empty tables and booths in the café, which was a popular place for women to share tea and retired men to sip coffee and pass the time.
As he walked in the door, he spied Melody already seated at a booth in the back. The coral blouse she wore brought out the color in her cheeks and made her eyes appear impossibly blue.
He headed toward the booth and couldn’t help but remember how she’d felt in his arms the day before, so warm and for just a moment so yielding.
He mentally shoved the image away as he slid into the seat opposite her. He’d just settled in when the waitress arrived to take their order.
“Coffee,” Melody said.
“Make it two, and I’ll take a piece of apple pie,” Hank said to the waitress, then smiled at Melody. “Sure you don’t want a piece of pie or something?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I just had lunch a little while ago.”
The waitress left and she pulled a small notepad and pen from her purse and set them on the table before her. He eyed them curiously. “I feel like I’m about to be deposed by a lawyer.”
A tinge of red danced into her cheeks. “For the last couple of days I’ve been so frazzled, I think it’s important I take notes so I won’t forget anything you say.”
“I’m not sure what it is you want from me,” he replied.
The waitress arrived at their table and served their coffee and his pie. When the waitress left, Melody wrapped her fingers around her cup as if seeking warmth to chase away some inner chill.
“Lainie and I had kind of an unspoken agreement. Even though she told me when she was going out with somebody, she didn’t give me all the details. She knew I disapproved of her dating habits.” Melody laughed suddenly, a short but musical burst she instantly stifled. “I sound like a prude and I’m not, but I knew Lainie was promiscuous.” She said the last word with a wince, as if it hurt coming out of her mouth.
Hank knew he had two choices. He could either protest her assessment of her sister or he could be completely truthful. He opted for truth. “Lainie was obviously looking for something she couldn’t find.”
“Lainie was mentally ill.” Again there was a wealth of pain lacing her words. “She was never officially diagnosed with anything, refused to see a doctor. But I truly believe she was bipolar or something like that.”
“We talked about that,” he said. She looked at him in surprise. “Lainie knew she was out of sync with the world, but she was afraid of taking medication, of somehow losing herself to drugs in an effort to be normal.”
Melody stared at him for a long moment, her blue eyes thoughtful. “You must have been very close to her.”
“I didn’t kill her, Melody.” He leaned forward slightly, wanting to take away any doubt that might linger in her head. “I had no reason to kill your sister. You saw how my daughter loved Lainie. Aside from the fact that I’m not capable of beating a woman to death, I’d never hurt my daughter by harming somebody she loved. She’s had enough loss in her life. I cared about Lainie. She was like a little sister to me.”
There was no way to explain to her that when he’d arrived in Cotter Creek he’d still been deep in a grieving process that had lasted for far too long. It had been Lainie’s irrepressible sense of humor and warmth that had chipped away at the emotional shell he’d built around himself.
Instead of taking away the faint frown that stretched across her forehead, his words deepened it. “You weren’t her lover?”
“Never.” He leaned back against the booth. “Lainie had plenty of lovers. What she needed was a good friend, and that’s what I tried to be to her.” And that’s what he’d needed in his life as well.
She picked up her coffee and took a sip, her gaze not wavering from his. He felt as if he were on trial and the jury was still out.
She placed
