Crazy in Love (24 page)

She looked down at her feet.
“Yeah. That makes sense.”

Freya stared at her expectantly.
“And?”

Flynn lacked the energy to be tested on her business acumen—or lack thereof—at the moment.
“And… what? I don’t know. I’m sure you and Dad will find the perfect person and everything will be fine.”

Freya grabbed her purse and pulled out her cigarettes.
“I want you on the next train back home, should be tomorrow morning sometime. I’ll clean up here.”

“
Oh.” Flynn swallowed hard. “Yeah. Right.”

Freya nodded.
“You can have Monday off if you want, but you should spend Tuesday in the office with Dad, get a feel for the place. I should be back by Wednesday, and we can get you really started then.”

“
Fine.” Flynn nodded toward the computer. “But what about the thing? With the missing money?”

“
I got it, babe. No reason for both of us to suffer out here in the middle of nature’s freakin’ wonderland, right? You go pack.” Freya cocked her head to the side and gave Flynn an evaluating look. “Unless there’s something you think you can do here.”

Flynn stared down at the computer. The screen hosted two reports, side by side, one titled
Accounts Payable—Second Quarter
and the other
Accounts Payable—T
hir
d Quarter
. It could have been written in Greek for all she could understand of it.

“
No,” Flynn said. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”

“
All right.” Freya jerked her head toward the French doors. “I assume you have an outdoor smoking area?”

Flynn tried to hide her surprise.
“Yeah. There’s a gazebo with ashtrays out by the west wing.”

“
Good.” Freya gave her a defiant look. “What? It brings down the value if people smoke indoors. I only do that in other people’s properties.” She turned toward the doors, her heels clipping against the ancient hardwood, sending the sound bouncing off the walls.

Flynn watched until her sister was out of sight, then sat down at the desk, tapping her nails restlessly against the wood. She didn
’t know why she felt so upset. Of course Freya wouldn’t have her stay and run the place; she’d run it into the ground. Hell, she’d thought her father was talking about football when he’d mentioned quarters. Leaving was the only thing that made sense. There was only one reason to stay, but she’d only known Tucker for…

Her eyes filled quickly and she grabbed for the mouse, absently scrolling through the second quarter report, staring at the names that went by, barely paying attention to them as she remembered the way Tucker had looked at her in the truck the night before.

“Oh, my God, I’m pathetic,” she whispered, reaching out to snatch a tissue from the box on the desk. She swiped at her face, knowing for sure that leaving was the absolute right thing to do. She hadn’t known Tucker long enough to be this affected by him. It was needy, and stupid, and weird, and ...

Wait a minute.
She leaned closer and blinked the last
of her tears away, not believing what she was seeing. But there it was, right in front of her.

Gavin P. Krunk.
She double-clicked on the record, and the computer whined, then spit up a report. Every quarter for the last three years, the Goodhouse Arms had been paying Gavin P. Krunk almost ten thousand dollars in consulting fees for restoration efforts.

Which didn
’t make any sense. There were no restoration projects going on at the Arms, and if there had been, they certainly wouldn’t take three years to complete. Plus, the consultant was dead. An additional wrinkle.

“
Holy shit.” Flynn grabbed the mouse and clicked into the third quarter report. She scrolled through for a while, then discovered that if she clicked on an arrow at the top of the Payee column, it organized them alphabetically. She scanned the names.

Gavin P. Krunk wasn
’t listed.

“
Holy
shit
.”

“
Watch your fucking language,” Freya said from behind her. “We have to set the example around here.”

Flynn turned around, her face white.
“How much money did you say we were missing?”

Freya crossed her arms over her stomach and shrugged.
“Oh, I don’t know, something in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars.”

Flynn glanced at the number next to Krunk
’s name on the payables report. “Was it maybe nine thousand three hundred and eighty-two dollars and seventy-three cents?”

Freya chuckled.
“Sounds like the right neighborhood. You found it?”

Flynn hit the print button, and the printer in the
corner
whirred in response. Freya walked over and stood behind her, looking at the screen.

“
What’s going on?”

“
We need to call the police,” she said. “I think you were right about perky people.”

Freya put her hand on the back of the chair.
“Of course I was right. I’m always right. How much did the bitch steal?”

“
About forty thousand a year for three years,” Flynn said, her mind racing as she made the connections. “And, possibly, another fifty grand from somewhere else.”

“
Wow.” Freya shrugged. “Gotta hand it to her for ambition.”

“
Yeah.” Flynn nibbled her lip, staring at the pages pumping out of the printer as she thought.

Annabelle. Sweet, innocent Annabelle was a thief. And, likely, the author of Rhonda Bacon
’s embezzling
in
structions. The big question now was
why
.

Freya
’s hand landed on Flynn’s shoulder. “Hey.”

Flynn jumped, her mind jerking back to the present moment.
“Yeah?”

Freya nodded over her shoulder, in the general direction of the cottage.
“Go pack your stuff. I’ll call the police, but we’ll probably have to go in and give statements tonight, so it’s best if you’re all set to go.”

“
Oh.” Flynn felt the stab in her heart again as she got up from the desk and forced a big grin. “Okay. I’ll see you back at the cottage later?”

“
Hell, no,” Freya said, her eyes on the computer as she reached for the phone. “I’m staying in one of these rooms. That place creeps me out.”

Flynn forced a weak smile and headed out the French
doors. She hugged herself against the chill in the air as she crossed the courtyard toward her cottage, feeling oddly hollow, despite the fact that she knew that going back to Boston was the only reasonable thing to do.

She glanced over her shoulder at the Arms as she reached her porch, hearing her father
’s voice in her head.

Don
’t get attached, Flynn.

It had been good advice. Too bad she hadn
’t heeded it.

Thirteen

Jake sat in the lobby of the police station, reading the latest issue of
People
and waiting for Gerard to come out and tell him why he’d been called in again less than two hours after he’d left. He hoped that whatever it was, it was important. And didn’t involve trading in his street clothes for a stylish orange jumpsuit.

He glanced at his watch. It was six-thirty. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked it; no messages.

Something was wrong.

Well,
maybe
something was wrong.

The night
before with Flynn had been… incredible. Overwhelming. Awkward. Unfortunately, it had ended on one of the awkward notes, and that fact had been bugging him all day. He’d waited until the afternoon to call, and when he finally did Flynn hadn’t answered her phone so he’d left a message. And now, she still hadn’t called back. She had probably just been tired last night, and had probably just been busy all day.

On a Saturday.

He turned the phone over in his hands. He was
not
calling again. The ball was in her court. Leaving one unanswered message the day after their first time was appropriate and gentlemanly; leaving two was needy and weird.

He flipped the phone open.

Needy. And. Weird.

He flipped the phone shut and had just tucked it back in his pocket when the door opened behind him. Jake glanced over to see Flynn walking in with a blond woman. He leaned forward to get up, then pushed back in the chair and struck a casual pose as her head turned his way.

“Hey,” he said.

Flynn seemed startled at first, then smiled when their eyes met. She was happy to see him.

Everything was fine.

He knew it.

He hopped up off the chair, put his hand on her elbow and kissed her cheek. “How ya doin’?”

“
Okay.” She rubbed her arms, avoided his eyes. “How are you?”

Everything was
not
fine.

“
Great.” He smiled down at her. “You sure you’re okay?”

Flynn opened her mouth to say something, but a thin hand inserted itself between them, extended toward Jake. His eyes trailed up the sleeve of a dark blue pin-striped business suit, past a delicate shoulder, and then finally up to a wide smile in the middle of a fine-featured face topped by golden curls.

“I’m Freya,” the woman said. “Flynn’s sister.”

Flynn sighed.
“Freya, this is Jake Tucker. He used to be our bartender. Tucker, this is Freya. Ignore everything she says.”

Jake took Freya
’s hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you, Freya.”

“
So you’re the bartender?” Freya held on to his hand for a long moment, and Jake got the distinct feeling he was being sized up. Finally, she released his hand and tossed a small smile at Flynn. “Not bad.”

“
Okay,” Jake said, then turned to Flynn. “So, what’s going on? I got called in, but I don’t know why. I’m assuming you being here isn’t a coincidence.”

Her casual smile didn
’t reach her eyes. “No coincidence. We found some missing money, and—”

“
Flynn and Freya Daly?”

Jake looked up to see Gerard walking toward them, holding his hand out to Flynn.

“Gerard Levy.” He shook Flynn’s hand, then Freya’s. “Come on into my office.” He looked at Jake. “All three of you. We just got some new information, and we’re going to need to take some statements.”

Gerard led them into his office, where they all sat in a row across from him, like kids called into the principal
’s office for egging the Driver’s Ed van. Before sitting down, Gerard dropped a mug shot printout on the desk in front of Flynn. Jake looked over her shoulder as she picked it up.

“
Oh, my God,” Flynn breathed.

Jake stared at it, then looked up at Gerard.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He set the printout back onto the desk, where it was quickly snatched up by Freya.

“What? Who’s…” Freya read off the sheet, “Candace Bellamy?”

Flynn shifted in her chair, obviously uncomfortable.
“That’s, um, Annabelle.”

“
Annabelle?” Freya said, her voice tight and her eyes blazing. “Annabelle-the-bookkeeper Annabelle? Annabelle-who-stole-a-hundred-grand-from-us Annabelle?”

Well
... that was news. Maybe that’s what was bothering Flynn. Jake touched her arm. “Annabelle stole from you?”

Flynn turned to him, still not meeting his eyes, and said,
“Long story.”

Nope
. Annabelle stealing money from the A
rms
was a problem, but it wasn’t
the
problem. He watched as Flynn’s eyes went everywhere in the room but to him, and just as he was about to ask her again if she was okay, Gerard spoke.

“
I did a check on Annabelle when you two called to report the possible embezzlement,” Gerard said, nodding at Flynn and Freya. He reached his hand out, taking the printout back from Freya. “Candace Bellamy was arrested for fraud seven years ago, was sentenced to three years, served her time, got out early for good behavior. She legally changed her name and came here to work for Esther.” He pulled another piece of paper out of the file, and set it before them. “This is a letter Esther wrote the parole board, explaining that Candace Bellamy was the granddaughter of an old friend, and that she wanted to offer her a chance to start a new life.”

“
Right here in River City,” Flynn mumbled.

Jake chuckled.

She still didn’t look at him.

Gerard cleared
his throat. “I wanted to talk to you all together before getting your statements. There are a lot of crossed wires here I’d like to straighten out.” He glanced down at the papers in front of him. “Okay. So. Flynn, you and Jake were involved in an independent private investigation of one Gordon Chase. Is that right?”

Freya held up one hand.
“Um, what? Private investigation? Who’s Gordon Chase?”

“
Well, yes,” Flynn said quickly, addressing Gerard. “I was assisting Tucker, who had gotten a tip from Rhonda Bacon that Chase was up to something. I went out on a date with Gordon Chase so he could break into Chase’s office.”

Jake leaned forward and tapped Gerard
’s desk with his index finger. “No breaking. Only entering. I had a legally-obtained key.”

“
Yeah, I got it.” Gerard turned his attention back to Flynn. “So, your involvement was limited to distracting Mr. Chase while Jake examined the evidence?” Gerard glanced at his notepad. “That is, until the shooting last night?”

Freya angled her body toward Flynn and slapped a hand down on Gerard
’s desk. “I’m so sorry, the
what?”

Flynn
patted Freya’s knee. “Sorry, Fray. I meant to tell you about that. Somebody kinda shot at us last night.”

“
You
meant
to tell me? Getting shot at slipped your mind?”

“
Well, I was surprised to see you, then there was the whole thing with the missing money from the Arms—”

Gerard cleared
his throat. “It seems that Annabelle—Candace Bellamy—came up here to work for Esther after she finished her stint at the Tennessee Women’s Correc
tional Facility about…” Gerard glanced at his paperwork. “Four years ago.”

“
Wait,” Flynn said. “Tennessee. Isn’t that where Eileen-Elaine-whatever was?”

Gerard glanced at Jake, then shrugged.
“Eileen Dietz was Candace Bellamy’s roommate there for a brief while, yes.”

“
Oh, my God,” Flynn said. “So, Eileen-Elaine-whatever was here for Annabelle?”

“
That doesn’t make any sense,” Jake said. “Annabelle going back to her roots, skimming money off the top at the Arms, fine. I get that. But why bring Eileen-Elaine-whatever here? Why get involved with Chase?”

“
She’s a CWIL,” Flynn muttered under her breath.

Jake looked at her.
“What?”

Finally, she met his eyes.
“Annabelle’s a CWIL.”

“
Oh, dear God,” Freya muttered. “That explains a lot.”

Gerard tapped his desk.
“Annabelle’s a
what
?”

Jake tried to wrap his mind around what Flynn was saying.
“So... what? Annabelle was in love with Chase, too?”

Flynn shook her head.
“Not Chase. You. Chase hurt your family. So she went after him.”

“
That doesn’t make any sense. If she wanted to help me... why use Elaine to steal the evidence that would get Chase off?”

“
To put worse evidence on it, maybe,” Flynn said. “Maybe she knew Rhonda Bacon was in love with Chase, and used her to set him up even deeper. Rhonda’s a CWIL, too. Annabelle could probably spot her a mile off.”

Gerard leaned forward.
“I’m missing something.”

“
CWIL. Crazy Woman In Love,” Freya said. “The only thing more dangerous and unpredictable is… well. Nothing.” She turned to Flynn. “So, this is what you’ve been doing this week? Breaking into offices and dealing with prison people?”

Flynn turned to her sister. She seemed so tired and sad.
What the hell was going on?

“
I didn’t know they were in prison,” Flynn said, “and Eileen-Elaine-whatever was murdered before I even got here.”

Freya
’s eyes widened. “Murdered? Someone was
murdered
?”

Flynn shifted to address Gerard.
“So, do you guys know who killed her?”

Freya tapped her hand on Gerard
’s desk. “How long do you expect this to take? I’m gonna need some liquor soon.”

“
It’ll just be a few more minutes.” Gerard looked at Flynn. “We don’t know much, except that whoever killed her was about five-foot-six and right-handed.”

“
So, basically, half the town,” Flynn said, then she brightened and turned to Jake, grabbing his arm. “Oh! But you’re a lefty! Yay!”

Finally. Eye contact
and
a smile. Jake’s heart lightened, and he grazed her fingers with his.

Freya sat forward.
“Wait, you thought your
boyfriend
might have killed this woman?”

“
No,
I
didn’t think so.” She pointed at Gerard.
“
They
did. And he’s not...” She withdrew her hand from his arm. “We’re just friends.”

Well. Whatever
’s wrong, it’s definitely me.
Jake sat back in his chair, and scanned his mind for what he had done to make her pull so far back. The night before had
been weird and everything, but this… there was something more going on. As subtly as possible, he cupped his hand over his nose and mouth and checked his breath.

“
Jake was never really a suspect,” Gerard said. “Look, I called you all in here because we’ve got some things to cover. More specifically, some asses.” He looked at Jake. “Yours in particular. I need you to go on record about all this. We’ve checked Annabelle’s apartment, and it’s been emptied. Rhonda Bacon has also turned up missing. I’m going to need detailed statements in order to get the search going full force. Chances are good your breaking and entering—”

“
No breaking.” Jake threw his hands up in the air. “What, do I need to get a T-shirt made?”

Gerard nodded.
“Chances are good your
entering
in Chase’s office is gonna raise some eyebrows, which means paperwork for me and possibly some charges against you, both of which are gonna delay my investigation. So it would help me a great deal if, in your official statement, you came straight to me with the information Rhonda Bacon gave you, and I’ll obtain the search warrant based on your tip.”

Jake raised an eyebrow.
“Are you asking me to perjure myself?”

“
Your father was a good man and a good friend. But the next time you fuck up, you go to jail.”

“
I guess now’s a good time for me to shut the hell up, then.” Jake stood up and shook Gerard’s hand. Flynn and Freya stood as well. Gerard looked at his watch.

“
It’s getting late,” he said. “If you want, you all can come in tomorrow morning and we can take your statements then.”

“
Oh, Flynn can’t,” Freya said. “She’s going home to Boston tomorrow.”

“
What?” A jolt ran through Jake, and he looked to Flynn, but she kept her own gaze locked on Gerard’s Swingline stapler.