CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Connor’s SUV turned off the county road ahead of Selena and rolled onto a narrow lane bordered by honeysuckle and split-rail fencing. Morning light lay across the fields in pale bands. Crows picked at something near the ditch, scattering only when Connor’s vehicle passed too close.
The radio crackled on her dash.
“That’s us up here,” Connor said.
Selena picked up the handset. “I see it.”
His brake lights flashed once before he turned through an open wooden gate.
Beyond it, a cottage sat back from the lane behind a neat front garden.
White walls. Green shutters. A slate roof patched in two places.
The sort of house people described as quaint until they noticed how far it stood from its nearest neighbor.
Selena parked behind Connor and stepped out.
Warmth had already begun rising from the gravel. The garden should have been charming. Roses climbed one side of the porch. Lavender grew along a stone path. A birdbath stood beneath a dogwood tree.
Then she saw the gnomes.
Dozens of them.
They stood among the flowers, peered from beneath shrubs, gathered in clusters around the birdbath, and lined the porch steps in crooked ranks. Some held lanterns. Some carried fishing rods. One wore a painted deputy’s badge and held a tiny nightstick. Their chipped faces smiled from every corner.
Connor noticed her looking.
“Renee put these here after Gary died,” he said. “She went a little strange.”
Selena looked at a gnome with a red hat and a cracked white beard. “Strange enough to kill?”
Connor gave her a tired glance. “I’m starting to think strange is normal around here.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I’m full of comfort today.”
Not enough sleep showed in his face. So did whatever remained unspoken from the night before. Selena let it sit for now. There would be time to fight later, assuming the case left them time for anything.
They walked up the stone path together. A ceramic frog grinned from the edge of the step.
Connor knocked.
The door opened almost at once.
Renee Beaumont stood there in a yellow cardigan over a pale blouse, her gray hair pinned neatly back from a small, round face. Her eyes brightened when she saw them, as if she had been expecting carolers rather than law enforcement.
“Sheriff Chase,” she said. “Agent Raven. Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise?”
Connor removed his hat. “Morning, Renee.”
“Come in, come in. You must be melting out there.”
Selena crossed the threshold behind Connor.
The house smelled of lemon polish and sugar.
Lace curtains framed the windows. Every surface held something decorative, mostly cats, angels, or porcelain children with solemn eyes.
A real cat watched from the back of a chair, tail twitching once before it lost interest.
Renee led them into the living room. “Sit anywhere. I’ve just taken cookies out.”
“That’s not necessary,” Selena said.
“Nonsense. You’re guests.”
Connor lowered himself onto a floral armchair. Selena took the couch, placing herself where she could see both Renee and the front door. A framed photograph above the fireplace drew her eye before Renee returned from the kitchen.
A man in his late forties smiled from the picture. Broad face. Kindly eyes. Fishing vest. One hand held a rod across his shoulder.
Renee came back carrying a tray with three glasses of milk and a plate of cookies arranged in a careful circle. She set it on the low table, then noticed Selena looking at the photograph.
“That’s Gary?” Selena asked.
Renee stood straight, tray still in hand. “Yes. That’s my dear, sweet Gary.”
The words came with practiced softness. She placed the tray down, crossed to the fireplace, and lifted one hand to the frame. Her fingertips caressed the edge, then rested briefly against the glass near Gary Beaumont’s cheek.
“He always hated that picture,” she said. “Said the vest made him look like an old man. But I told him it made him look honest.”
Connor watched without touching the milk.
Renee returned to her chair and sat with her knees together, hands folded. “Now, what can I do for you?”
Selena took out her notebook. “We wanted to ask about your connection to Sandra Holt.”
“Oh, Sandra.” Renee’s smile relaxed. “I’ve known Sandra since high school. We were inseparable back then for a few years. Not quite as pretty as you and Jessie were, mind, but we had our day.”
Selena’s pen paused. “You know me and Jessie?”
“Everybody knew Jessie.” Renee tilted her head. “And you, of course. Though you were younger. Always so serious, even as a girl.”
Selena studied her. “Do I know you, Renee?”
“Oh, no. Not properly. But I tutored your sister in mathematics when you were children for a little while.”
A memory rose. Diane at the kitchen table, scowling at worksheets. A young woman with tidy hair and a soft voice showing her how to carry numbers. Selena standing in the doorway, bored and curious, waiting for Diane to be free.
A small smile touched Selena before she stopped it. “Wow. I never put that together.”
“Your mother and father were such a lovely couple,” Renee said. “Very kind to me. Your mother always made sure I left with a little extra money for gas, even when I told her not to.”
“Thank you,” Selena said.
Connor shifted in the chair. “Renee, where were you the night Warren Holt died?”
The warmth in the room changed.
Renee looked from Connor to Selena, then gave a light laugh. “Oh. Sounds like I’m a suspect. What fun.”
Connor leaned forward. “Two men are dead.”
Renee’s smile vanished. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Selena looked at Connor until his eyes met hers. Calm down. The words did not need to be said.
Connor sat back by an inch. “Where were you, Renee?”
“At home. Here.” She gestured at the room. “Sorry, only my cats as witnesses, I’m afraid.”
“How many cats?” Selena asked.
“Three. Aggie, Pearl, and Mr. Claws.”
Connor’s mouth tightened as if he thought the names were another game.
Selena kept her voice even. “Did you know Victor Schmidt?”
“Of course. Terrible what happened to him. Just terrible.”
Connor cut in before Selena could ask more. “Where were you two nights ago, when Victor was killed?”
Renee blinked. “You think they’re linked?”
“Never mind that,” Connor said. “Where were you?”
Selena angled her notebook, ready to write.
“Let me think.” Renee looked toward the ceiling as if searching a calendar written there. “I was with Sandra, actually. I stayed over to help her. Poor thing was in pieces.”
“At Sandra Holt’s house?” Selena asked.
“Yes.”
“All night?”
“From early evening until morning.”
“Sandra can verify that?”
“I’m sure she can. Though we slept through most of the night. Well, tried to. Sandra had taken something to help her rest. I sat up with her a good while before that.”
“What time did you arrive?”
“Six or so. Maybe a little before.”
“What time did you leave?”
“After breakfast. Around nine.”
Connor stood.
The motion made Renee’s hands tighten in her lap.
“And what about Gary, Renee?”
Selena looked up from the notebook.
Renee stared at Connor. “What about Gary?”
“When he died, we thought it was a little strange you didn’t call us sooner.”
“Connor,” Selena warned quietly, hoping he wouldn’t scare her off by being too direct.
He did not look at her. “He’d been in the water the best part of the day when we found him.”
Renee’s face drained. “Sheriff, please. Gary always stayed away when he went fishing. Sometimes all day. Sometimes longer if he drank too much and slept it off in his truck.”
“You didn’t worry?”
“Of course I worried. I always worried. That doesn’t mean I called the sheriff every time my husband behaved like my husband.”
Connor stepped closer to the mantel. Gary’s photograph watched above him.
“Didn’t you and Gary have a falling-out before he died?”
Renee’s mouth opened slightly. “Well… Marriages, you know.”
Connor looked at her. “Didn’t you think he had eyes on Mavis Turnberry at the bakery?”
The color that had left Renee’s face returned in hot patches. Her eyes filled, not slowly but all at once.
“I loved my husband.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Selena closed her notebook. “That’s enough, Connor.”
Renee pressed a hand to her mouth. A small sob escaped before she caught it. The cat on the chair lifted its head.
“I’m sorry,” Renee said, dabbing beneath one eye with a tissue from her sleeve. “I’m sorry if you think I’m caught up in all this. I’m just trying to help Sandra through it. That’s all.”
Connor’s face had closed. “We’ll see.”
He turned and headed for the door.
Selena rose. “I apologize for his behavior. He’s under a lot of pressure.”
Renee folded the tissue in her fingers. “It’s quite all right. Men do get so cross when they’re frightened.”
The phrasing made Selena pause, but Renee’s face showed only hurt.
“Thank you for your time,” Selena said.
At the front door, Renee followed her onto the small entry rug. Connor was already outside, moving down the path.
Selena reached for the handle.
“You know, Agent Raven,” Renee said softly, “I think you dodged a bullet with that one.”
Selena turned back.
Renee gave a sad little smile. “Too brash. Too sure his feelings are facts. And I heard the rumors back in the day. That terrible business with that poor woman getting run down outside your parents’ house. Oh what was her name?”
Selena kept her face polite. “Goodbye, Renee.” She hated that people knew about her past. It was one of many reasons she had left the small town behind years ago.
Outside, the gnomes seemed to watch from the flowers as she crossed to the vehicles. Connor waited beside his SUV with both hands on his belt and his hat low over his eyes.
“I don’t trust her,” Connor said. “It fits. I can feel it.”
“She has an alibi if Sandra confirms it, though?” Selena replied.
“If Sandra confirms it.”
“And we’ve got every reason to believe she will.”
Connor shook his head. “Now who’s being naive?”
Selena stopped a few feet from him. “Don’t do that, Connor.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Use my words against me because you don’t like where the evidence is pointing toward Marlene.”
Connor folded his arms in front of his chest. “I’m saying Renee deserves a deeper look. And you’re wrong about Marlene...”
“We can take a look at Renee and Gary’s death. But Renee being odd doesn’t make her a killer.”
“She got uptight when I mentioned Mavis.”
“Because you accused her of drowning her husband, Connor, and you brought up the fact her husband might have been having an affair.”
“I asked a question.”
"You used a dead man's suspected affair to hurt her into reacting. It's not the line of questioning that's the issue; it's that you're being too heavy-handed with it. That can make suspects close up, when we need them to talk more."
Connor looked away toward the fields.
Selena lowered her voice. “I want to dig into why Marlene Schmidt lied about where she was the night her husband was killed.”
“You won’t let that go, will you?”
“Connor.”
He turned back to her. “Will you just trust me? It’s not Marlene. Renee might be connected to it.”
“You only want that because you care about Marlene and Victor, and you don’t want to entertain the fact that Marlene may have been involved.”
Connor frowned and looked at the sky as if hoping for some assistance. “And you only want Marlene because she looks good on paper, when you won’t listen to my experience.”
“She lied, Connor. We have the phone records. She came back to town the night Victor was murdered.”
“There’ll be a valid reason for it, I promise. People lie when they panic,” Connor explained.
“Yes. Sometimes because they’re guilty.”
“You’re impossible.” Connor opened the driver’s door. “I’ll see you back at the station.”
“Connor.”
“Back at the department, Selena.”
He got into the SUV, shut the door, and started the engine.
Selena stood on the gravel while he reversed too sharply, dust rising behind the tires. The SUV turned toward the lane and disappeared past the gate.
For the first time since she had arrived in Harlan County, she regretted taking the case.
Not because of the dead. Not because of the work. Because every lead seemed to tug on someone Connor loved, hated, pitied, or owed. Every name came with history. Every question reopened an old door.
The radio in her car crackled.
Selena crossed to it, got in, and lifted the handset. “Raven.”
Arnold’s voice came through. “Agent Raven, Cheryl’s sister just called. Marlene Schmidt’s back at her house.”
Selena started the engine. “Have you contacted her yet?”
“Not yet. Wanted to tell you first.”
“Good. I’ll go question her.”
A pause. “You want Connor?”
Selena looked down the empty lane where his SUV had gone. “I’ll notify him.”
She changed channels and keyed the radio. “Connor, it’s Selena.”
Static answered first.
Then his voice. “What is it?”
“Marlene Schmidt is back home. I’m going to speak with her.”
“I don’t want anything to do with it. You handle it. I’m clearly not objective enough for that interview.”
Frustration flared through Selena’s chest. “Stepping out isn’t an option.”
“It is right now. You said you didn’t want me to complicate things. I won’t by staying away.”
Selena felt her blood pressure rising. “If I have reason to bring her in, I’m bringing her in.”
“Do what you have to do.”
His voice cut out.
Selena stared at the radio for a second, then dropped it onto the passenger seat.
“Stubborn ass,” she said.
The gnomes smiled from Renee Beaumont’s garden as Selena pulled away, heading back toward town and the widow Connor refused to see clearly.