Framed!. Robin Caroll

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ them.

      TWO

      Yesterday left scars upon her soul.

      Ava hadn’t had such a horrible day since her father died. Not only had she buried her brother, her only sibling, but she’d also been hugged by Max Pershing. Not just physically, but a soul hug. Talk about scars.

      Initially, she’d been appalled to find he was her co-chair for the Mother of the Year pageant committee. On uneasy footing, they’d awkwardly stumbled through a couple of weeks of working together. Then, as if the planets were all in alignment, they’d fallen into a comfortable pattern of being together.

      It felt an awful lot like old times.

      Now, her heart fluttered just thinking about being in his arms again. Had she made a mistake in honoring her mother’s demands for so long? Could Max still have feelings for her, or was she merely misinterpreting his kind condolences yesterday?

      “Ms. Ava, Bosworth says Sheriff Reed is here to see Ms. Charla, but she refuses to open her door when I knock.” The maid hovered in the doorway to the dining hall, literally wringing her hands.

      Ava stood. “Don’t worry, Bea. I’ll let the sheriff know Mother isn’t feeling well.” She smoothed down her suit pants. “Tell Bosworth to show him into the library and let him know I’ll be along shortly.”

      “Would you like me to serve coffee?”

      “Please.” Ava smiled as the woman left, then sucked in air. What could the sheriff want? Did they have a lead on Dylan’s killer? Or was he here to try even harder to link Dylan to Angelina Loring’s death? Since her brother was dead, how could they? She straightened her shoulders and headed to the library.

      St. Tammany parish’s sheriff, Bradford Reed, stood with his back to the door, facing the marble fireplace. He touched the gold frame on the mantel holding Dylan’s picture. She recalled the manner in which he had focused on Dylan in regards to Angelina’s death. He’d been so wrong. She knew that in her heart. Resentment clawed at her chest. She said a quiet prayer, hoping to grasp a measure of peace.

      Ava said “amen” and entered the room. “Sheriff Reed, how may I help you?”

      He faced her, a stoic look pasted onto his aging features. “Ava.” His gaze ambled over her shoulder. “Where’s Charla?”

      “Mother isn’t feeling well today, Sheriff.” She gestured toward the sofa. “Would you care to have a seat?”

      Dropping to the sofa, he nodded as she sat in the high-back chair diagonal from him. “Well, I appreciate you seeing me.”

      After the way he’d treated her brother, she had to stretch to put on politeness. “But of course.” She picked imaginary lint from her pants as she fought to remain poised, the urge to ask why he was here nearly suffocating her. But she wouldn’t. It wasn’t deemed proper hostess behavior.

      “I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about your brother, if I may.”

      “Certainly.” More questions, but no answers. After burying Dylan yesterday, she’d hoped for at least some promising news.

      “Good.” Sheriff Reed pulled out a notebook and pencil. “First, what can you tell me about the relationship your brother had with Angelina Loring?”

      So much for hoping. Ava shifted in her seat. “Didn’t you cover all of this when you centered your attention on him as a suspect in her death?”

      A little tic by his eye was the only visible reaction. “We just have to check every angle, every clue.”

      “Then, as I told you before, they went out socially together some, but it wasn’t a serious relationship by any means.” She paused, recalling how Angelina seemed to cling to Dylan as hard as she could. “Well, it might’ve been for Angelina, but Dylan never got serious in any relationship.” Ava tilted her head. “Do y’all now think the murders are related?” Were they finally realizing Dylan had nothing to do with Angelina’s death? His death had to have them scrambling for answers. Unraveling their loosely knit theory.

      Dylan was dead. Correction, murdered.

      “We’re just looking at any and all possible connections.”

      “But she was found dead in the swamp, and Dylan was shot in the back. Do you think they’re related?”

      Sheriff Reed fingered the edge of his notebook with calloused hands.

      “Angelina was shot in the back, too, wasn’t she?” She refused to give in to the urge to glare at him. No wonder they’d searched the mansion when they’d convinced themselves Dylan had killed Angelina. But they would’ve never found a gun—there wasn’t a firearm in the house. Not since her father had died and all his hunting shotguns had been destroyed.

      “We didn’t make the details of her death public for investigative reasons.”

      Because they had suspected Dylan. “But was she shot in the back just like my brother?”

      “Ma’am, can you think of any reason someone would want your brother and Angelina dead?”

      Answering a question with another a question confirmed it—Dylan and Angelina were both shot in the back. Evil had arrived in Loomis. “My brother, no. And trust me, I’ve thought of every possible scenario. A lot of people didn’t like Dylan, but I can’t think of anyone who hated him enough to kill him.”

      “Maybe a bad business deal?”

      “I wouldn’t know. I’m not exactly in the family business. But neither Dylan nor Mother mentioned anything serious going on at the company.” The thought struck her again that it was high time she did know what went on behind closed doors at the Renault Corporation.

      “Would they have?”

      “Of course.” Ava paused as Bea entered the library with a silver service that she set on the iron-and-glass coffee table.

      After the maid had poured and been dismissed, Ava settled her cup in its saucer and stared at the sheriff. “You know my mother’s ruthless reputation…she isn’t any different at home. If there’d been a business transaction that hadn’t gone well, she’d delight in calling Dylan on the carpet every opportunity she could. We all shared dinner every night, except when I had a wedding or Dylan had a date.” Because Ava sure hadn’t had a meaningful date in longer than she could remember.

      Max’s image floated across her mind.

      “I see. Was that often? That Dylan had a date, I mean?”

      Ava shook her head, banishing Max from her thoughts. “An occasional date during the week and most weekends. Is this really necessary?”

      “The more we know, the better we can work the case.”

      Because now they were looking for a link between the murders. Perfectly logical, but the loss was still too new for the memories not to hurt. Ava took a sip of her coffee and waited.

      The sheriff took a noisy sip from his own cup. The china rattled as he replaced it on the saucer. СКАЧАТЬ