CHAPTER NINE
“What has you all worked up into a tizzy?”
Brynn blew away the flyaway strands blocking her view, well aware Julie Brigham was standing on the other side of the bar. It was still relatively early, so Jeremy Bell had yet to claim his seat at the counter.
Regardless of the early hour, there were a few customers who had shown up here for some wings and a beer instead of going over to Annie’s Diner for lunch. Cassie Osburn, the daughter of the infamous Annie, had yet to go in front of a judge for her role in trying to scare Reese Woodward out of town.
Word had it that Sophia Morton had dug up some kind of compromising pictures of Annie Osburn from her time as an actress in California. Cassie had been afraid Reese’s presence would dredge up history best left forgotten. She’d let the fear of her mother’s disgrace push her into doing the wrong thing.
Needless to say, everyone wanted a view from the front row seats.
“I’m not in a tizzy,” Brynn protested as she ripped open a box of cocktail napkins she’d gotten from the supply closet. The last thing she needed was for her friend to find out that Lance had been here last night. “You know how Fridays can be. I’m just getting ready for the after-work rush.”
“Uh-huh,” Julie said as she plopped her purse on the stool next to her. “And I’m sure it has nothing to do with Lance Kendall being back in town or the fact that he was here with you until around three thirty or four o’clock in the morning. Well after closing time.”
Damn it.
“It’s not what you think.” Brynn shot Julie a sideways glance, knowing she’d already lost this round of the debate. “Did you know that Lance found pictures of numerous young girls, including Sophia and Emma?”
“That’s all anyone on the hospital staff was talking about last night. Do the authorities really believe that Arthur Fetter is a serial killer? Those photographs were planted there. They had to be. Anyone with half a brain can figure that out for themselves. The killer must have put them there when he found out that Lance was getting the place. What they need to do is search the rest of the houses their daddy bought them and see what comes up.”
Brynn got what she wanted by averting the conversation from Lance, but this topic wasn’t any better than the one before. It was all she’d thought about last night. Well, when she hadn’t been obsessing over whether or not she’d made the right decision in turning Lance down on his dinner invitation.
“I can’t imagine being able to accept the idea that Arthur would do something like that,” Brynn replied honestly, taking a handful of the cocktail napkins, spiraling a stack, and then setting them by the small tray of fresh oranges, limes, lemons, and cherries for mixed drinks. “There has to be some other reason those pictures were in his house, and I can’t believe someone would frame the Kendalls.”
“I’m not surprised another news crew arrived in town this morning.” Julie shook her head in response to the menu Brynn tried to slide her way. “No, thanks. I can’t stay long. My shift at the hospital starts in an hour. So that’s why Lance stopped by last night, huh? To tell you about the pictures he’d found? Nothing more?”
Brynn should have known Julie wouldn’t allow the conversation to stray too far from her scoop about Lance Kendall’s early morning visit. She sighed in acceptance and set the box with the rest of the cocktail napkins onto the top of the cabinet. She’d store them in the back later.
A quick glance at the few patrons eating wings told her that everyone was still enjoying their lunch. No one needed a refill quite yet, so she could spare a couple minutes being roasted over the coals.
“Lance was driving through town from his new home to his dad’s house when he decided to stop in for a last-minute drink. Lord knows he needed it after the night he had. Of course, I was closing up the bar, so we shared a drink as friends. Nothing more.” Brynn pulled out the stool from underneath the bar and took a seat. She was exhausted, and the day was only getting started. “We didn’t even really have a chance to get caught up. I mean, can you imagine the shock he must have experienced at finding those photographs?”
“What if they’re just pictures left behind and they have no connection to Sophia or Emma?” Julie reached over and lifted the clear, segmented lid to gain access to the compartment with the cherries. She popped one into her mouth and used her teeth to hold it while she pulled out the stem. “I mean, there were other photographs in the stack. Are the rest of the girls missing too? Let’s face it. Everyone is on edge and it was only a matter of time before someone started to point the finger at someone. We’re talking about an eighty-something year old man who everyone loved and considered part of the local gentry. That is, as far as the farming community goes. There could be a reasonable explanation as to why those pictures were in his house. We just aren’t in a position to know yet.”
Brynn didn’t have to point out that there were a lot of towns like theirs where the residents were shocked at finding out who the suspect was who had committed some horrifying crime. Blyth Lake wasn’t alone, nor would they be the last to discover that their Norman Rockwell town wasn’t quite as picturesque as they’d thought.
“I’m not saying that I can possibly imagine in my wildest dreams a rational explanation for Arthur to be looking at pictures of a bunch of missing girls,” Julie clarified, pointing the cherry stem Brynn’s way. “Now, what else happened last night that had you looking as if you could have shredded that box of napkins into a billion particles of confetti?”
Brynn shifted on the stool, wondering how to word what took place between herself and Lance without sounding as if she regretted her decision.
“Do you remember when Lance graduated early and left town to join the service?” Brynn might as well remind Julie of the past, because recalling how difficult that time was would go a long way in fortifying her choice to decline Lance’s offer to go to dinner. “I’d known all along he was leaving, just as he understood that I wanted to stay here. It was no one’s fault, but you—of all people—should remember how hard it was for me to say goodbye after all the time Lance and I spent together.”
“I do remember, hon.” Julie leaned forward, though it wasn’t as if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation. “What you’re leaving out of that trip down memory lane is how much you loved him. You would have done anything to keep him here with you. I don’t care that you were seventeen years old. Love is love. No one can deny that is what the two of you shared.”
“And we’ve both changed so much over the last twelve years,” Brynn countered, not surprised that Julie had gone down that road. “I have a life of my own now, just as he does. Lance is basically starting over here, regardless that he grew up in Blyth Lake. Julie, he might be someone totally different from the man we all knew back then. And for all I know, he could be in a relationship with some woman.”
Brynn didn’t bother to say that Lance never would have asked her to dinner if that was the case, but she wasn’t ready to share that part of last night with her friend. At least, not yet.
“Did Lance indicate that he was involved with someone at any point since then or now? Is that why you have hives on your chest?”
Brynn instinctively looked down at the V-neck of the black t-shirt she’d put on this morning, always in the habit of wearing something that had the Cavern’s logo on the fabric. She didn’t notice any hives or red blotches on her chest. It was then she realized she’d been duped.
“Damn it, Julie.”
“Gotcha,” Julie replied with a smile, though understanding shined bright from her blue eyes. “Fine. You’re not ready to share. I get that.”
It was then that Brynn noticed Julie’s darker shade of lipstick. She always wore a bit of makeup during her shift as a medic, but maintained a natural look with a pale pink lip gloss. The cinnamon color she wore today was brand new.
“Turning the tables here, is there anything you want to tell me?” Brynn raised an eyebrow in question. “Is there a new guy working at the hospital I should know about? A doctor, perhaps?”
One thing about both of them being blonde was that it was easy to see when a flush adorned their cheeks.
“Do tell, my friend.”
“I’ll spill when you spill,” Julie tried to negotiate, indicating that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon as she absconded with another cherry out of the garnish tray that Brynn had just filled while snatching up her purse. She hopped off the stool a little more composed than she’d been thirty seconds prior to making her getaway. “That’s what I thought, blondie.”
Brynn could only laugh at the nickname Julie had used on purpose to make her point. It appeared they both had some things they weren’t willing to share quite yet.
“Hi, Jeremy,” Brynn greeted her regular, having seen him come through the heavy door after Julie passed by him as she was leaving for her shift. It came as a surprise to see that he wasn’t alone. “Whitney. I thought you were out of town for the week.”
“I was until I heard that my picture was in that stack of photographs Lance Kendall found last night in Arthur Fetter’s basement.”
Brynn really needed to get her hearing checked.
“Your picture was in…”
“You heard me right the first time,” Whitney said with a dramatic sigh. She took the stool to the right of where her father always sat before pointing to the draft beers. “I’ll take whatever you have freshest on tap.”
Whitney and Brynn had been friends all through high school, but Whitney hadn’t stayed in town the whole time. She’d left the day after graduation and only came home to visit every so many years. It was obvious that whatever path she’d taken hadn’t been an easy one. She had a hardened look that only came from living life in the fast lane.
Brynn almost let it slip that Lance hadn’t said anything about Whitney’s picture being in the mix, but she caught herself just in time.
“How did you find out?” Brynn served up Jeremy’s usual, as well as Whitney’s request for a draft beer. “Did Detective Kendrick already call you?”
Brynn had spoken to the detective a couple of times over the last couple of months because of her friendship with Emma, but she had also talked with him because she’d gone to camp that summer with Sophia. Honestly, the poor detective most likely questioned every resident in Blyth Lake by this point, because everyone knew everyone else. She certainly didn’t envy him his job and digging through years of Blyth Lake’s dirt.
“Yes,” Whitney replied before taking a long drink of her beer. She wiped away the foam on her top lip as she looked around the bar. Brynn wasn’t sure who she was looking for, but the place wouldn’t pick up until after five o’clock. They were still a few hours away from the first rush of patrons. “Detective Kendrick wanted to meet me this morning so that I could look at the picture. He was hoping I’d remember who’d taken it.”
“Whoever took it was apparently smart enough not to catch her attention.” Jeremy stared at his beer as though the malt beverage had all the answers. She was somewhat shocked when he didn’t drink it right away. “You were smiling and looking away from the lens, almost as if you didn’t even know the picture was being taken.”
“And you don’t remember anything?” Brynn was surprised that Whitney wouldn’t remember Arthur Fetter taking her picture, even if she hadn’t been staring directly at the camera. This might very well mean that Arthur didn’t have a thing to do with Sophia’s murder or Emma’s disappearance. He might just be innocent as Brynn had originally suspected. “What about the clothes you were wearing? Or the way you wore your hair? Does anything suggest when the picture might have been taken?”
“Yeah, it does.” Whitney took another fortifying drink, telling Brynn all she needed to know. “It was when we were at camp with Emma and Sophia. Brynn, you don’t think that I was a target just like the rest of them, do you?”