The Best Man to Trust (7 page)

“By the way,” Meredith announced once everyone was eating. “I wanted to let everyone know that I was thinking of going through Haley’s room and seeing if I can find any clues to indicate who might have wanted to hurt her and why. I just didn’t want anyone to be surprised if you hear us in there.”

Everyone fell quiet, glancing at one another. Tom waited for someone to comment or offer any objection.

“Us?” Alex asked.

“I asked Tom to come with me to videotape the room and document where everything is before I move anything.”

“Sounds like you have it all figured out,” Alex said in a tone Tom couldn’t quite read.

“Did anyone think of any ideas why someone might have wanted to hurt Haley?” Meredith asked.

Everyone looked around the table, seemingly hoping someone else would provide the answer. No one did.

Tom had spent much of last night considering the question himself, trying to think of the slightest reason anyone might have to kill Haley, going over every interaction he’d witnessed since they had assembled at the airport. But he wasn’t convinced he was the best one to figure it out. He’d been away from the group too long. Anything could have happened within the past seven years that he would have no idea about.

Still, his natural inclination was to believe that none of these people was capable of killing anyone, let alone a friend. That left him trying to figure out who else it could be—and why.

The only other people at Sutton Hall were Rick and Ellen, neither of whom he could read all that well. He didn’t know enough about either of them to guess why one of them might have killed Haley. If it was one of them, the motive likely had nothing to do with Haley herself and involved something secret on their part. The fact that the knife used hadn’t come from Sutton Hall didn’t necessarily mean anything. If someone in the wedding party could have brought it here with them, one of the staff could have brought it, too.

If he could figure out the motive, it might help him discover who was responsible. It seemed strange that Haley would be killed here of all places, where another wedding had also ended in murder. It seemed the killer had decided to take advantage of the mansion’s history. Or, he thought with a frown, was the mansion itself the connection?

He slowly raised his eyes to look at Meredith. This wedding business was hers. She was the reason anyone had come here in the first place. And two of those weddings had led to murder. He knew she was no murderer. Even if she hadn’t been with him when Haley had likely been killed, he remembered the devastation on her face last night. No, she wasn’t the killer, but...

“Maybe it’s not about Haley,” he said slowly. “Maybe it’s about Meredith.”

Meredith flinched, just as every eye in the room turned to her. “Me?”

“Maybe somebody has a grudge against you....” As he said it, his gaze automatically slid toward Jessica.

Jess’s mouth fell open, leaving no doubt she’d caught his meaning. “Are you talking about me?”

“You seem to know a lot about Meredith and Brad. How exactly is it that you know so much? Have you been talking to him?”

She clamped her lips together in a thin line. From her expression, she didn’t want to answer, but her reaction was enough of one.

“Well?” Alex prodded.

“We had coffee a few weeks ago,” she sniffed.

“Exactly how long have the two of you been in touch?” Tom asked.

“We ran into each other a few months ago, that’s all.”

“And what did Brad have to say about Meredith and the fact that she owns this place?”

She grimaced, clearly indicating that whatever he’d said, it hadn’t been good. “He’s not her biggest fan,” Jessica admitted delicately.

“Enough that he was pleased to hear how things went badly here before?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, her silence telling. The answer was yes. Brad Jackson had relished everything his ex-wife had been through.

“You can hardly blame him,” Jess said. “After what she said about him, he has every right to enjoy what’s happened to her. It’s karma.”

His eyes narrowing, Tom surveyed her, trying to figure out just how deep her spite ran. “You’re obviously on his side. If he did want to do something to hurt Meredith, how far would you be willing to go to help him?”

Her jaw swung loose. “You can’t honestly believe I would kill Haley!”

He paused. No, he admitted, deep down he didn’t believe that. “Maybe not. But where is Brad right now?”

“Back in Chicago.”

“You’re sure about that?” he prodded.

She blinked. “Well, no, but I assume so.”

“What are you suggesting, Tom?” Scott asked.

Honestly, he wasn’t really sure. But Haley seemed like the last person who would have been killed by one of her longtime friends. And if Brad was holding a grudge, who knew how far he would go? He did already have a history of violence against women....

Even as he considered the idea, Tom had to wonder whether he was letting his reflexive dislike and anger toward the man affect his thinking. “Just exploring every possibility.”

Jessica slammed her hand against the table. “I’m tired of hearing a good man insulted like this. It might make for good TV, Tom, but it has nothing to do with reality. He didn’t do anything to
her—
” she jerked her head toward Meredith “—and he certainly didn’t have anything to do with Haley’s murder.”

To her credit, Meredith didn’t say anything to defend herself. She simply stared at Jessica, long and steadily, before pointedly looking away. The clear message was that she didn’t need to defend herself. They were her experiences. She knew what had happened better than Jessica did.

As if recognizing the unspoken point, Jessica’s face reddened further with suppressed anger. She looked at Rachel. “I hate this. I wish you’d never brought us here.”

Rachel offered no disagreement. She lowered her eyes to her plate, her expression uncomfortable and more than a little guilty.

“Why
did
you bring us here?” Alex asked. “Why did you have to get married here of all places?”

Rachel waved a hand around the room defensively. “Look at this place. It’s amazing. Who wouldn’t want to get married somewhere like this?”

“Anyone who’s heard what happened here?” Alex suggested. “I have to believe most people would have canceled their weddings after that murder. Right, Meredith?”

“Most of the other weddings were canceled,” Meredith admitted.

“‘Most?’” Alex echoed.

“All,” Meredith confirmed after a beat.

“But not you,” Alex said to Rachel. “You still dragged us all up here. Why?”

Rachel hesitated, obviously struggling to think of a response.

It was Jessica who answered. “She said she thought it would make her wedding even more special,” Jess interjected. “She didn’t think anyone else would want to get married here after what happened, so she’d get to have the only wedding here. And even if there were other weddings, hers would still be the first.”

“Jess!” Rachel snapped.

“Well, it’s true,” Jessica shot back. “If we all get killed, at least we’ll know why.”

“So I wanted my wedding to be special,” Rachel sniped. “What bride doesn’t?”

“Brides who don’t want their wedding parties to be murdered?” Greg suggested wryly.

“No one else is going to be murdered,” Tom said firmly. “If we all watch out for each other, and figure out who’s responsible for killing Haley, we should be able to get through this.”

The statement was met with silence, skepticism heavy in the air. Still, he figured the fact that no one voiced their doubt out loud had to be considered a positive.

“How long does it look like we’re going to be here?” Rachel asked.

“It’s still snowing,” Tom said. “We won’t be able to start digging out until it stops. If it takes a couple of days, I’m guessing it would be Monday or even Tuesday before we can get out.”

Today was Friday, a grim fact that seemed to settle over the table like a lead weight. Monday couldn’t possibly have seemed further away.

“So what are we supposed to do until then?” Jessica asked, her tone unusually subdued.

No one seemed to have an answer for that. The possibilities of what could happen in the meantime were too grim and terrifying.

It was Greg who finally responded, lifting his flask yet again. When he spoke, there was no humor in his voice, his tone ironically sober.

“We survive.”

Chapter Eight

“Hey, Meredith.”

Meredith looked up from the table where she’d begun to collect the breakfast dishes. Most of the room had cleared, but Alex lingered on the other side of the table. She suddenly felt the emptiness of the room much more strongly, keenly aware that she was completely alone with him.

She did her best to shake off the feeling. Even if he was a threat, they had the massive table separating them. If he tried anything, she could run before he made it around the thing. And Ellen was just in the kitchen behind her if she called out. “Hi, Alex. Is there something I can do for you?”

“We didn’t really get a chance to talk yesterday,” he said, gracing her with a smile. “I thought it would be nice to catch up with an old colleague from the
Daily,
but I wasn’t sure if you remembered me from back then.”

Her nervousness eased as she picked up on his meaning. “Of course,” she said, unable to hide her surprise. “How could I forget a fellow
Daily
staffer? If anything, I would have thought you didn’t remember me.”

Back in school, they’d both worked on the college paper. But while he’d been a star reporter, she’d been a cartoonist, drawing satirical cartoons and her own strip. It had been the best part of her college experience. She’d loved to draw, and with her cartoons, she’d had a chance to give voice to the thoughts and ideas she’d seldom had the guts to out loud. Even though she doubted most of the student body could have identified her on sight, she knew they were aware of her cartoons. Sometimes she’d hear people talking about them, and it hadn’t mattered that they didn’t know her. Knowing they’d enjoyed her work had been the best feeling imaginable.

She hadn’t really socialized with the rest of the paper’s staff, working on her own and submitting her stuff directly to her editor. The few times she’d attended one of the staff parties, she’d mostly found herself standing against a wall, feeling out of place and uncomfortable. Though she’d known who Alex was, she was sure they’d never spoken to each other, and she never would have thought he knew who she was.

“Hey, your stuff was some of the most popular material in the paper,” he said heartily. “I admit it took me a second to put it together, but I finally did. Do you still draw?”

Meredith didn’t let her smile slip. “Not really.”

As though caused by the thought, she felt a twinge in her right hand and flexed her fingers to try to alleviate the pain. Her hand had been broken a few years ago—
Brad,
she thought, reminded of the conversation earlier—and it hadn’t healed correctly. Now it hurt to grip a pencil for too long, but sometimes she found herself sketching, doing her best to ignore the pain until she no longer could, unable to resist the urge. The instinct—the need—to draw was still deeply ingrained within her, even in her broken bones.

“Aw, that’s too bad. So listen,” he said, his mood and tone abruptly shifting. “I was thinking, you mind if I join you and Tom while you go through Haley’s room? I probably know the group better than either of you and might catch a clue you wouldn’t. It couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of eyes, right?”

So this was what he really wanted,
Meredith thought wryly. All that catching up had simply been a way to ease into her good graces and get what he wanted.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. In college, he’d earned a reputation as someone who’d do anything to get a story. That had continued in his professional career. He’d quickly made a name for himself, winning awards, admiration and more than a few enemies with a number of hard-hitting exposés and investigative pieces. He seemed to relish exposing wrongdoing and fighting for the little guy.

She had a feeling she knew what drove him, she thought with a pang of sympathy. Everyone at school had known his story. Sophomore year he’d been in an accident, struck by a hit-and-run driver while he was walking just off-campus. He’d been in bad shape, broken one leg badly and suffered several other injuries. He’d been forced to miss half a semester, but he’d fought his way back, managing to graduate in time with everyone else. More important, the accident seemed to have given him an extra motivation. The driver who’d struck him had never been caught, and he’d become a much tougher reporter, turning into the relentless force who wouldn’t let anything stop him from breaking a story.

And now he was in the middle of a story. Meredith did her best to hide her discomfort. Even though she probably knew him better than anyone else in the wedding party, she still didn’t know him particularly well. Certainly not well enough to trust him.

And she didn’t, she acknowledged. There was something off-putting about the eagerness in his expression, as though he couldn’t wait to get into the dead woman’s room and go through her things.

She forced a smile. “Actually, I think it would be best to limit the number of people who go in the room, since it is a crime scene. I’d like to try to disturb it as little as possible. I’m sure you understand.”

His expression froze, but she didn’t miss the flash of anger in his eyes. From the way his lips thinned into an angry line, he didn’t understand, or at least he didn’t like it. He looked like he wanted to argue the point. Not that he had any grounds to. It was her house and her call, something he must have realized, since he’d asked her instead of suggesting it to Tom. She was the owner of Sutton Hall. Tom was the video expert. If anyone was going into the room, it was going to be the two of them.

“Sure,” he said, smiling faintly. “I understand. No problem.”

With a tight nod, he turned and walked from the room. Meredith watched him go, noticing the small, barely perceptible hitch in his step. It seemed he still had a slight limp from the accident he’d had in college. In spite of everything, she felt a twinge of sympathy. She knew all too well how the effects of some injuries could linger—physically and emotionally.

Troubled, she went over the encounter in her head as she continued clearing the table. She couldn’t help wondering if there wasn’t more to his offer, a different reason he wanted access to the room than to help with the investigation. Was he hoping to write about this experience? She supposed it made sense, even if it seemed a little distasteful to be considering it so soon. Or was there something else to it....

The kitchen door swung open and Ellen stepped into the room. “All done? I can take that.”

Meredith glanced over to discover she’d fully loaded the cart without realizing it. The table was clear. “Thanks, Ellen,” she said, allowing the cook to take the cart. “I should probably go check on everyone.” She suspected more than a few of them had headed back to bed for a nap at the very least, but her encounter with Alex had left her more curious to see what she might find in Haley’s room. She should track down Tom and see if he was ready to go through it.

After holding the swinging door to let Ellen push the cart into the kitchen, Meredith stepped out of the dining room and into the hall. She drew up short when she saw two figures standing near the end where it opened up into the main foyer.

Rachel and Jessica stood close together, heads bent in conversation. They were speaking in hushed tones, their voices whispers Meredith couldn’t make out from where she stood. She could still catch the anger in them, their tones harsh and insistent as the women glared at each other, their faces dark and tense.

Meredith wasn’t sure whether she should duck back into the dining room before they noticed her. The choice was taken out of her hands an instant later when Jessica suddenly looked up, her eyes locking on Meredith.

She abruptly straightened. Noticing she’d lost Jessica’s attention, Rachel glanced over and saw Meredith, too.

Meredith watched the anger drain from their faces. Before she could say anything, Jessica quickly spun away and disappeared into the main hall. A moment later, Rachel followed, ducking her head and walking away.

What was that about?
Meredith had to wonder. A continuation of their earlier argument at breakfast?

She didn’t know, and more than anything she suddenly wished she did.

* * *

S
TANDING
IN
H
ALEY
’
S
room was no more comfortable in the light of day than it had been the night before. Even with the light streaming through the window, the scene was unrelentingly grim.

Mostly because the blood in the middle of the floor was impossible to avoid no matter where Meredith looked.

As she had when he’d documented the body, she stood out of the way while Tom captured the room on camera. Lingering just inside the door, she studied the space. She was glad they’d chosen to put Haley’s body in another room. This task would be even more difficult than it already was if they had to do it with the body lying there, its presence as unavoidable as the blood.

Folding her arms over her chest, Meredith fought her unease. There wasn’t much to go through, she noted, wondering if they were wasting their time. Haley had only brought two pieces of luggage with her. Both were unzipped and looked to still be full, as if she hadn’t unpacked them. Maybe she hadn’t had time to, Meredith thought with a pang. On the top of the desk was a laptop and a few manila folders, the bag she’d brought them in sitting on the desk chair.

The wardrobe against the wall opposite the bed was slightly ajar. Meredith watched as Tom opened it, revealing only two items hung inside. One was the coat Haley had been wearing yesterday when she’d arrived.

The other was a bridesmaid’s dress, still encased in a plastic bag.

Meredith couldn’t take her eyes off it, even after Tom moved on to record something else. She imagined Haley hanging up the dress, thinking about when she’d put it on in a few days. And now she never would.

The way no one might ever dress for that wedding,
she thought. She hadn’t asked Scott and Rachel about their plans for the wedding, the issue somehow insignificant in the midst of everything else. She assumed they’d decided to cancel it, if they’d given any thought to it at all. There didn’t seem to be any way the wedding could go on. Not with one of the bridesmaids now dead.

Not with a killer on the loose.

“Done,” Tom said, drawing her attention back to him.

She watched him lower the camera to his side, stopping to face her. “Where do you want to get started?” he asked.

“I was just thinking there isn’t that much, is there? Just her bags and what’s on the desk.”

“Do you want to start with the bags? Get it over with?”

“Sure.” It was as good an idea as any. Meredith quickly checked through the luggage, finding nothing but the expected clothes. Not feeling all that comfortable going through a dead woman’s clothes, she finished as soon as possible, leaving the bags where they’d been.

They moved to the desk. Sitting on top of it were the laptop and manila folders she’d noticed earlier. Tom reached for the bag on the desk chair, looking inside to see if it contained anything.

Picking up one of the folders, Meredith opened it to find a small stack of photographs. She lifted them out to look closer, recognizing several of the faces in the top one. “It looks like she brought pictures of all of you in college.”

She sensed him glance over her shoulder. “Yesterday at dinner Haley said she’d planned a slideshow. I think she’d intended to display it for everyone tonight or tomorrow. She asked me if I’d help her set it up.”

His voice had softened as he spoke, the words tinged with regret.

“If she did, maybe she had it on her laptop,” Meredith said, pointing to it on the desk. “These must be extras she printed out for people to look at, or ones that weren’t digitized.”

“I wonder if it’s worth checking her computer to see if there’s anything on it....” Opening it, he began to boot the device. She watched his fingers move over the keys, her gaze drifting over his hands. He had beautiful wrists, she registered, strong, solid, lightly dusted with fine blond hairs....

It hit her what she was doing and she almost shook herself.
Get a grip already
. She was actually ogling the man’s
wrists
.

She quickly looked down at the pictures in her hands, focusing on the image on top. Four young women with their arms around one another, heads pressed together, posed for the camera, their smiles wide and beaming. Three of them were easily recognizable. Rachel was second from the left, with Haley and then Jessica to her right. The fourth face wasn’t familiar.

“Password protected,” she heard Tom say.

Meredith held up the photograph for him to see. “Who’s this?” she asked, pointing to the face on the far left.

A hint of sadness entered his eyes. “That’s Kim Logan, the fourth member of Rachel’s group. They shared an apartment off-campus the last two years of college. The four of them were as close as Scott, Greg, Alex and I were. It made kind of a nice symmetry when we used to hang out. But that ended when Scott and Rachel broke up. Rachel didn’t want to see Scott anymore, and they each kept their respective friends.”

Meredith looked at him in surprise. “Scott and Rachel broke up?”

Tom nodded. “Halfway through senior year.”

“What happened?”

“I never really knew,” Tom admitted, reaching for one of the other folders. “All I know is, when we got back from winter break, Rachel ended things with him. Scott never wanted to go into it, and I didn’t try to push him into talking about it. That’s not what guys do. I just tried to be there for him as a friend, which basically meant talking about anything else to keep his mind off it.”

“But they got back together,” Meredith noted.

“Last year, I guess. They ran into each other in the city, and evidently it was like old times. They started seeing each other again, and suddenly they were engaged. I actually found out from Scott that they were getting married before I heard they’d gotten back together.”

“So it was fast,” Meredith mused.

“Very. But it must have been right. Watching them the past couple days, it’s like no time has passed at all. Whatever happened between them, or whatever made Rachel break up with him, they seem to have gotten past it.”