Samhain Publishing

The next morning my cell phone rang to the tune of Witchy Woman and I lazily grabbed it, noticing Jon was out of bed already. “Hello,” I answered groggily.

“Good morning,” Sean said softly. His voice was like a velvet caress.

“Hey, not more bad news, I hope.”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I spoke to some employees at Harbor Realty. They seemed to be under the impression that Joan DeVries had an affair with your husband.”

My gut clenched into a tight little ball of pain. The verbal knife entered right in the solar plexus. “What? Who told you that?”

“A Kim Delancey.”

A million thoughts ran through my already congested mind.

Images and insecurities came flooding back into my head and heart. Past hurts that seemed to be waiting sprang out of nowhere. “Sean, I don’t know why this woman thinks that, but my husband isn’t—wasn’t having an affair.”

“Look, Angel, I’m just telling you what I know. The husband, Peter, admitted his wife had been known to sleep around. So did he. He didn’t care because she was a good broker. Whatever floats your boat. According to him, anyway, they had an open marriage. You told me about what happened this past fall with Jon having a business lunch with another woman. This was the woman, and did you also know he called her yesterday? Kim Delancey took the message.”

“Yesterday? N-no, I believe my husband, plus, well, I just know he wasn’t sneaking around with her,” I said defensively. My wall was crumbling slowly. The wall of protection I’d so carefully erected to keep the nasty feelings of “not good enough” away.

“Ah-hem!” Cliff appeared at the end of my bed, tapping his ghostly foot.

Sean’s voice softened a bit. “How?”

“Her reading. I saw them together. I saw that she wanted a relationship, but he turned her down. Look, I know this stuff is hard for you to swallow, but I know it for a fact. He wasn’t having an affair with her.” My voice was rising a few octaves higher than normal.

“Angel, I don’t want to see you get hurt. You know that. I hate myself for this, but I have to ask. Where were you between four and when you arrived home?”

I snapped my cell phone shut, cutting him off.

“Now that wasn’t very nice.”

“Shut up, Cliff.”

I knew that wasn’t going to stop Sean, and sure enough, an hour later, the detective was at my front door. I’d just gotten out of the shower, my hair wrapped in a towel. I’d declared today pajama day—plaid burgundy flannel pajamas, stay in bed under the covers day. “Come in,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, Angel, but I have to ask, and you know that.”

I stood with my hands on my hips. “Sure. I was at the VFW Hall until about seven-thirty. Marisa and I were packing up my truck, and she left at about seven. Yes, there were other vendors nearby who can verify I was there,” I answered frostily. “You want their phone numbers?”

“I have to talk to the kids, Amber and Jake. Are they up?”

Before I had a chance to answer, Jon came into the foyer. “Why do you need to talk to them?” he asked defiantly.

“I’ve got to verify what you told me last night, that you were home. You know how this works. By the way, Jon, why didn’t you mention you called Joan DeVries at her office yesterday?”

I could see my husband was getting angry again at the insinuations. “You didn’t ask, and I didn’t speak with her. She called about our business deal, and I was returning her call. Amber, Jake, come down here,” he called out. The kids came moseying down the stairs, half asleep.

“Let’s go in the den,” I muttered.

“I need to speak to them alone,” Sean stated bluntly.

Jon and I went into the kitchen, giving Sean privacy. After what seemed like only a few minutes, Sean walked back into the room. “The kids just said they were in their rooms until you called them to eat around seven-thirty. Did you pick up the Chinese food or have it delivered?”

My face must have betrayed my inner emotions as I looked at Sean. I couldn’t comprehend why he was asking these questions.

Jon looked uncomfortable. “I, umm, I picked it up,” he answered.

I looked over at Jon. We always have it delivered. “What?” I gasped.

“Look, Detective, this is an enormous business deal I’m in the middle of negotiating with Harbor Realty. I went by Mrs. DeVries’s office on the way to pick up dinner. She said she’d have the papers from her lawyers signed, ready for me. The office was closed so I went and got dinner. Then I came home.”

I felt the color drain from my face. I must have turned as white as the snow that had begun to fall outside. I sat, my legs threatening to give out from under me. Jon looked over at me, his eyes searching mine.

“Angie—I was anxious to get the papers before she changed her mind and decided to start playing games with me,” Jon said, his tone pleading with me to believe him.

“Papers were found on her desk, signed. But you’ll have to wait until I can hand them over to you.”

Sean headed out in the snowy night. Again, “I’ll be in touch” lingered in the air.

I shot Jon an accusatory look.

“What?” Jon asked.

“I think you know what. You want to tell me about it?”

“There’s nothing to tell. You know all about this deal, and I’ve been trying to come to an agreement with Harbor Realty for months.”

“Jon, why would that woman be at your office after hours?”

“I don’t know. Please, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with her death.”

“If there’s anything you need to tell me, you better tell me now.”

He gathered me in his arms. “I love you. That’s all you need to know.”

Still that damned vision haunted me. I didn’t believe in coincidences. It had to be connected with this murder.