Authors: Chantel Rhondeau
Tags: #Mystery, #love, #Romantic Suspense, #framed for murder, #lake, #romance
“I’ll only say this one more time.” Max lifted his head, the anger back in his eyes. “I didn’t kill anyone. I was too busy working, saving up money for an engagement ring that I apparently didn’t need.”
He turned suddenly, banging through the door and nearly knocking over a group of kids on their way inside.
Calvin approached the counter. “You okay, Rosie?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Just peachy. It’s not every day the love of my life turned murderer wants to talk.”
“Love of your life?” Calvin set a Styrofoam coffee cup on the counter. “I thought you just said you weren’t planning to marry him.”
Leave it to Officer Nosey to listen to every detail of the conversation.
“Just because I couldn’t marry him doesn’t mean I don’t—didn’t—love him.” She shrugged and placed the bat on its hook. “I didn’t want to be stuck barefoot and pregnant with no education while Max worked at his uncle’s garage. Trapped in this town forever, like my mom. Reality turned out to be a fate worse than that.”
Calvin tossed some change on the counter. “You should’ve married the psycho. Maybe your sister would still be alive.”
Thanks a lot.
“You don’t know how many times that very thought has played through my mind.”
***
M
ax almost made it to his car when Jimmy Durant stepped around from the other side of the gas pump. The last time Max saw him outside of a courtroom had been the night Sage was murdered.
Walking quicker, Max hoped he’d make it to his vehicle without a confrontation. If something happened, it was clear who the police would side with. No one here was interested in evidence or the truth. They just wanted Max to be guilty.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s back in town.” Jimmy’s swaggering walk matched the sneer in his voice.
He’d always been somewhat of a punk, and Max never did understand why Sage dated him off and on. Maybe it was just to get Max’s attention, since Max always told her she deserved better than Jimmy.
“Look at your betters when they’re talking to you, you murdering bastard,” Jimmy sneered.
Max stopped walking, realizing avoiding Jimmy would be impossible. The younger man obviously wanted to hurl insults. He stared into Jimmy’s glowering hazel eyes. “I didn’t kill anyone, and you know it, since your lies put me in prison.”
“Watch yourself, scum.” Jimmy patted his pants pocket. “Knowing you were released, I decided to start carrying again. Someone has to protect the innocent girls in this town.”
A gun? Typical. Jimmy always did think he was a badass.
“My mom needed cigarettes. I’m not looking for trouble, so back off.” Max turned and opened his car door, hoping now that Jimmy had threatened with the gun, he’d feel content to let Max leave.
A heavy hand fell on Max’s shoulder.
“Not so fast, asshole. Let’s get something straight between us.”
Max shrugged the hand off and turned around, bending his fingers in a tight grip. “Even with your little gun, who do you think would be victorious in a close fight? I’m not the same mellow kid I used to be.” Max flexed the large muscles he’d acquired in prison, and Jimmy swallowed hard and took a step back. “Maybe once upon a time I allowed people to walk on me,” Max continued, “but that time is long gone. In prison, you either become the man people fear or someone’s bitch.” He held up his balled fist. “And I’m no bitch.”
Jimmy looked down, scuffing his foot in the dusty lot. “Just stay away from Rose. You killed her sister. She doesn’t want you anymore.”
The joke was on Jimmy. Apparently, Rose never did want him. Max grabbed the front of Jimmy’s shirt and pushed him against the car next to them. “You
know
the truth, you little prick. Sage scratched me at that burger joint, and that’s why they found my DNA under her nails. If you had just told the truth, I wouldn’t have rotted in prison for seven and a half years. I should kill you for lying.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened and he struggled against Max’s grip. “She got a note later telling her to meet you at that old boat house. You killed her. It doesn’t matter when she scratched you. I know you did it, and I stayed quiet to protect Rose. No one can prove I saw anything.”
Max pushed him again, then released his shirt. “If Sage really did get a note that night, I didn’t write it. I was too busy trying to find Rose to tell her what Sage said about our engagement.” He turned back to his car and hopped inside, glaring at the younger man through his open window. “Stay away from me, Jimmy. My reputation is already ruined so that doesn’t matter. If you push me, I
will
fight back.”
He started the engine, floored the accelerator, and squealed out of the lot, checking his rearview mirror. Jimmy still hadn’t moved from the other car, but Max had no doubt Rose would soon learn of the argument. And probably blame him.
***
R
ose pulled her beat up Ford into the driveway. She missed the days when she could afford a house with an attached garage. Knowing Max had returned to town made her feel especially vulnerable as she jumped from her truck and raced for the front door.
Even at midnight, it was still warm outside. The summer had been a scorcher so far, and it was only early July. She might have to break down and buy a portable air conditioner if the heat kept up. That was one more expense she couldn’t afford.
Upon opening the front door, her cat jumped from the back of the couch to the floor. He stretched his large orange and white frame its full extent before sitting his backend on the floor and curling his tail around his side. He meowed in a plaintive tone, reminding Rose he didn’t like the heat any more than she did.
“I know, Gizmo. Sorry. I’ll open the windows and get your dinner.”
She locked the front door and walked through the small living room, heading for the kitchen. As she slid open the window and the breeze fanned her face, she had a horrible thought.
Next to her, Gizmo jumped on the counter. He meowed his approval at the fresh air and then bumped his head against her arm—a clear demand for dinner.
“What if he comes after me?” Rose scratched Gizmo’s chin absently, staring out the window. “He could climb inside if we leave this open.”
Although this house was a far cry from the upper scale home on the lake that her childhood home had been, Rose had never worried about her safety before. The little one-bedroom place was rundown and old, but her neighbors were great people. She’d never had a second thought about flinging her windows open at night to bring in the cooler air.
Rose sighed. “We don’t have a choice, Gizzie. Max could break the window anyway, if he really wanted to kill me. We’ll roast in here tomorrow if we don’t cool it off.”
Besides, he continued to claim innocence. Rose didn’t want to think about it too hard, but the gnawing doubt she’d always harbored was gaining traction. She wasn’t so sure that Max was guilty.
After pouring a bowl of gourmet cat food, Rose set it on the ground and popped a frozen meal into the microwave. Sometimes it annoyed her that the cat ate better than she did, but Gizmo had kidney problems and couldn’t survive on cheap store-brand food. He was her only companion the past five years since Mom went into the asylum. She rescued him from the pound and even if it was hard financially, he was family.
Rose gagged down her mystery meat dinner and then opened the other windows. Her feet ached from the long week, and she settled onto the couch to read a book before going to sleep.
Gizmo hopped into her lap and curled into a ball, purring his content.
She wished she could ignore the world and just stay like this, relaxing with her furry buddy, but tomorrow was Sunday. It was the only day she had off from both jobs, and the day she cleaned house and visited her mother.
Ginger Spelling might not always remember who Rose was, but Rose couldn’t skip making the drive around the lake to see her. Maybe if her mother was having a good day, they could take a trip to the town of Serenity and stop at Jim’s Fish House. Her mother used to love that place. A meal like that would mean no air conditioning unit this month, but it would be worth it to make Ginger happy.
With a sigh, Rose set her book on the end table next to the couch and scratched Gizmo between the ears. The words weren’t making an impression on her brain and she’d have to re-read the pages she’d turned. She knew why she couldn’t concentrate and why she tried to distract herself with thoughts of her mother.
Max’s baby blue eyes filled her vision as soon as she let her guard down. How could a murderer be so handsome and normal looking? He still looked like the boy she loved. Maybe he was a bit more muscular, and his boyish face had hardened into that of a man, but he still looked like her charming Max.
Even though she’d dated a few times over the years, it had been nothing serious. She should hate Max, and part of her did. Mostly, she wanted him to be as innocent as he claimed. If someone else had torn her family apart, she could start rebuilding her life and find some happiness—maybe even with him.
But everyone said he was a killer. She’d even believed it herself for a long time. She couldn’t be swayed by his sexy smile and how much she still loved him. Max was a killer, and happiness would never be possible.
T
he sound of screaming outside her bedroom window woke Rose from a deep sleep. Her heart thudded painfully as she dug her knuckles into her eyes to clear the sleep from them.
Gizmo jumped onto the window sill, meowing his displeasure at the people outside. They had at least gone from screaming to talking loudly, lowering her anxiety slightly.
“I called the cops,” a woman said.
“I want to see it.” A boy’s voice.
“Stop right there. Don’t touch anything.” The woman again.
Rose finally placed the voices as belonging to her neighbors. She rolled out of bed, her heart rate slowing to normal, and grabbed the robe off the chair in the corner of the room. After wrapping it around her, she approached the window.
Kelsey Tanning stood in Rose’s yard. Her twin eight-year-old boys jumped around her feet, seeming more excited than scared.
“What’s all the yelling about?” she asked.
Kelsey walked to the window, looking solemnly through the screen. “The boys wanted to bring you over some pancakes this morning, but found something on your porch already.” Kelsey pressed her lips together, looking a bit sick. “You have an enemy, Rose. I called the cops.”
Bryant, the older twin by ten minutes, ran to stand beside his mom, craning his head back to look through the window. “There’s a lot of blood, Aunt Rose. A note too, but Mom wouldn’t let me or Tray read it.”
“Blood?” Rose stepped back from the window slightly, bile rising in her throat. The first night Max comes back to town, someone leaves a threat on her doorstep?
Kelsey pressed her face against the screen. “I heard Max Kensington is out, and you two had a run in yesterday at the store.”
Rose nodded.
“If I were you, I’d stay inside. Don’t even look at what’s out here. Let the cops handle it.”
“What is it, Kel? I need to know.”
“It’s a dead rat, gutted, with a noose around its little neck.” She shuddered. “You don’t need to see this. I’m glad the boys found it, not you.”
Gizmo dropped to the ground and padded across the room, meowing at the door to remind Rose it was breakfast time.
None of this made sense. Why would Max leave a clear threat on her doorstep? Sure, he was angry that she didn’t want to talk to him, and seemed truly heartbroken to hear she hadn’t planned on marrying him. Still, a direct threat left for anyone to see?
“Why would he do that?” she murmured. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Doesn’t have to make sense. He’s obviously bat shit crazy.” Kelsey ran a hand through her messy blond hair. “Look, this is nothing against you, but I’m going to have the boys stay away from your house. Just until we’re sure it’s safe, not because we aren’t still friends.”
“No, it’s okay. I understand.”
She really did. She had often baby sat for Kelsey on weekends and sometimes took the boys to the park just to get out of the house on Sundays after visiting Mom. That wouldn’t be possible now. Rose wouldn’t put them at risk. She’d tough it out alone. No one would want to be around her now—not with Max on the loose and after her. If it actually
was
Max.
The twins were still talking about how cool the blood was. Kelsey seemed fine with it, but Rose wouldn’t want her children looking at something like that. “Get the kids home. I won’t come out of the house until the cops get here. Thanks for thinking of me with the pancakes, but I’m not hungry now.”
“Come on, boys, let’s go.” Kelsey put her hand against the screen. “If you need anything, I’m just next door.”
It was nice of her to say that, but Kelsey had her own problems. Her deadbeat drunkard of a husband sat on the couch every day doing nothing while Kelsey tried to hold down the fort. She didn’t have time to worry about Rose’s problems.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Rose slid the window shut and waved at them as they walked through the yard.
Gizmo scratched at the door. “Meow.”
“I know, I know. Dead rats aren’t your thing.” She opened the door and followed him to the kitchen. “You’d be useless as a mouser. Let’s get your breakfast.”
***
A
knock sounded on her door just as she finished washing Gizmo’s bowl. Rose quickly dried her hands and hung the towel over the handle of the oven, taking in a deep breath before heading to the door.
Opening it up, she firmly avoided looking down for fear of seeing the rat, meeting Calvin Black’s eyes.
“Morning, Rosie.” He jerked his head at the man standing next to him. “It took me a while to get here because the Chief wanted me to bring in Officer Jet, here. He’s from the Oregon State Police Department and was in the area.”
Officer Jet stuck his hand out, and Rose shook it. “Sorry to hear about your trouble, ma’am. Officer Black told me about your run in yesterday with a man who was just released from prison.”
“Max Kensington,” Calvin supplied. “The first thing he did when he got out was harass our Rosie inside the gas station she works at.”