Secrets in a Still Life, Kari Ganske [best fiction books to read .TXT] 📗

Maybe the sugar would wake me up a little and help me shake off my dream.

In it I was stuck in a room with Linc, Detective Spaulding, and Rick. Linc and the detective each pulled on one of my arms. Linc, with his stormy-gray eyes and adorable grin, kept reminding me of the kiss we shared in his truck in high school. Detective Spaulding, with his sharp, green eyes and intriguing scar, told me over and over that I was anything but a child. Wreck-it Rick stood in the background laughing his head off. I didn't need Freud to help me figure out what that meant. What bothered me was why I dreamt about these men at all. I wanted nothing to do with the opposite sex. At least not in a romantic way. Rick had ruined that for me for a while.

Not that it mattered. Neither of those handsome alpha males would give an awkward pipsqueak like me a second glance in real life.

To take my mind off it, I contemplated a way to talk to Becky's ex-husband, Danny, without being so obvious. And to figure out where Danny lived.

Begrudgingly, I called my mother.

An hour later, I had showered in the beautifully tiled bathroom, all the while pretending I was at a spa, and slapped on some light makeup, mainly to hide the bags under my eyes from lack of sleep. I put on my least-threadbare cargo pants and an unwrinkled T-shirt. For once I left my hair down around my shoulders instead of pulling it up into a messy bun on top of my head. I was headed to the Ladies' Auxiliary Sunday luncheon. My mother would be here to pick me up in ten minutes. Just enough time to pack my go bag of camera essentials—I never went anywhere without it—and head down the steps to meet her.

When I opened the loft door, a tan-colored chicken stood at the top of the steps as though waiting for me. It cocked its little head to one side and looked up at me.

"Well, hello, there. How'd you get up here?"

The chicken made a little coo sound in its throat and looked at me with the other eye.

"Okay, then. Don't poop on the steps, please," I scooted around it to descend. I guessed I'd have to get used to having farm animals visit.

My mother pulled up a moment later, scoffed a little at my outfit without saying anything, and zipped us off to the luncheon.

Mom reintroduced me to her friends—it had been several years since I'd seen any of them. Noticeably missing was Laura Poledark, Missy's mother. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by the other women either.

"Poor Laura. She can't bring herself to get out of the house yet," Judy Gosling clucked.

"And poor Jodie too. The sisters were really close. I mean, Missy practically raised her since Laura was always busy with her charities and... things," Anne Fletcher added. Everyone knew "and things" meant getting drunk on cheap wine and passing out on whatever barstool she found herself on.

"Not to mention Michael Junior and Patsy," my mother said, mentioning Missy's kids. All the women made affirming noises and shook their heads as they passed the pitcher of mimosas around the table.

"I'm going to take Laura a casserole," Anne said definitively. Everyone agreed that would be a wonderful idea. They made a schedule to feed both Laura and Mike and the kids.

Slowly, their conversation moved to the actual murder. It was the most exciting thing to happen in Piney Ridge, and everyone felt like they had some sort of personal connection to the crime. I sat back and listened intently. Most of the women regurgitated what had been printed in the paper. Others spouted theories and gossip. Most thought Mike did it.

When it seemed like they weren't going to talk about Missy's infidelity, I tried to steer the conversation that way. "I heard Missy was having an affair as well."

"Oh, yes. With Daniel Tidwell. But that ended a while ago," Anne Fletcher said.

"Didn't it break up the Tidwell's marriage?" I made sure to repeat the surname so I would remember it later.

"Yes. But honestly those poor kids were heading for divorce anyway, in my opinion," Victoria Munhouse chimed in.

"I heard that too," Anne confirmed. "They had a pregnancy scare a few years ago that had them get hitched in the first place. When that turned out to be a false alarm, the marriage seemed doomed. Becky tried to make it work for a while. But when you trick a man into marrying you like that, the trust is never going to be there."

"I saw her coming out of Wyatt Fielding's office about a month before she found out about Missy," Victoria said.

"Who's Wyatt Fielding?" I asked.

"He's a lawyer. Specializes in divorces," my mother explained.

"But I heard she and Danny had a huge blowout when she found out about Missy. That's why Danny isn't doing the first-responder calendar this year."

"No calendar?" Anne asked. "What a shame. I love that calendar. Mainly for the animals, of course."

Mom huffed. She leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Animals, my dupa. She has her calendar set perpetually to August. I'll give you two guesses whose month that is."

I only needed one. "Linc?" Mom nodded. I grinned.

"I'm doing the photo shoot this year. You’ll still get a calendar. Although it might look a little different. I think Danny and I have different styles," I explained. The ladies let out a collective sigh of relief.

"How wonderful," Victoria commented. "It'll be nice to have a change of style. They were getting a bit redundant over the last few years."

"I'm guessing Becky and Danny aren't still married? Linc indicated he wasn't welcome anywhere near the firehouse," I said.

"Nope. Becky got the house. Danny tucked his tail