The Reunion (9 page)

Meghan swallowed a lump of nervousness when the sheriff’s gaze landed on her. She had nothing to hide, but had never been involved in a real murder. Writing about one and experiencing one first hand wasn’t quite the same.

“Your name, please?” he said with a smile.

“Meghan Donahue. And to save time, I live in Raleigh, North Carolina.”

“What made you come to the reunion?”

“Why does anyone come to one of these affairs? I was the fat girl,” she answered in a smooth voice.

“So, you wanted to show off a little?”

“Yes. I wondered if anyone would recognize me.”

“Did they?”

Meghan shook her head. “Only Zach. He remembered my eyes.”

She heard Zach suck in a breath and out of the corner of her eye saw him shift in his seat.
Hope I didn’t embarrass him.

The sheriff smiled. “I can see why. Are you married?”

“Not at the moment. I’m divorced.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I write mystery novels under the name Meghan Bonaventure.”

The sheriff sat back. “You’re kidding. I just finished
Death on the Gridiron
. It was damned good. You actually got most of the police and forensic procedures right. Plus, you know a thing or two about football.”

“I went to Ohio State. It was hard not to learn something about football in four years.”

“So, you and Mr. Dunbar spent most of the evening together, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Never separated, even for a few minutes?”

“No—oh, well, yes, if you count going to the restrooms or the bar a time or two.”

“Did you know Annabelle Peterson?”

“I knew who she was, but that’s about all. She was one of the few kids in high school who didn’t make fun of me.”

“Talk to her tonight?”

“I said hello in the ladies room.”

“When was that?”

“After dinner. I can’t recall the time, but it was before the dancing started.”

“Talk about anything special?”

“No. Just the usual ‘hi, how are you, wow, you’ve really changed.’” Meghan sighed. “Annabelle was a nice woman. I felt so sorry for her husband, Eric, when he came out onto the terrace asking if we’d seen his wife.”

“He did? When was that?”

Meghan caught the glance the sheriff pointed at Zach. He’d left out that piece of information. She assumed it was an oversight. Remembering every little detail in a time of shock was hard. Zach didn’t make eye contact with her and shifted in his seat. She turned her attention back to the sheriff.

“It was right after Carl and Zach returned from the fish pond. Suzanne had let us all know the body wasn’t hers, and before anyone could react, Eric popped out. I knew exactly who was in the pond then.”

“Oh? How?”

“Well, Annabelle and Suzanne were wearing the same dress, an ice blue, chiffon, halter top, very chic.”

“Thank you,” Suzanne murmured, sipping her cosmo.

“What the hell has that got to do with anything?” Dave demanded, his words slightly slurred.

Only an idiot wouldn’t see the significance. But then, Dave is an idiot.

The sheriff ignored both of them. “I’ll be damned. Did you see Annabelle Peterson leave the terrace for the garden?”

“Uh, no. Zach and I were, ah, talking, and since the ballroom was so hot, lots of people came outside to cool off.”

Sheriff Armstrong jotted her information in his notebook, then sat back and wiped a hand over his face, his eyes thoughtful. He shifted his stare to Suzanne who glared back at him.

“What happened after the body was found?”

Meghan gave him the details of trying to keep Eileen calm and of Glory’s fainting. When she finished, he smiled.

“I take it you’re staying at the hotel. What’s your room number?”

“Two-fifteen.”

“Thank you, Ms. Donahue,” he said, and then turned his gaze onto Dave.

“All right, Mr. Coryell, it’s finally your turn. Where do you live and what do you do?”

“I live on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago.”

“What do you do,” the sheriff repeated when Dave showed no signs of answering further.

“You didn’t ask Tom and Glory what they did for a living.”

Dave’s petulant voice grated in Meghan’s ears. He sounded half-plastered and well on his way toward total blotto.

Sheriff Armstrong sat back and massaged the skin between his eyebrows.

“Mr. Coryell, Tom and Glory live in Grandview. My car, house, and life are insured by his company. I know what he does for a living. Now, can we continue?”

His voice sounded tired. Meghan wondered how many times murder had reared its ugly head in her hometown.

And how far out of his league is he?

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a commodities broker. I own DC Commodities, Incorporated.”

“And why did you decide to come to the reunion?”

Dave shrugged and took a drink. “I hadn’t seen most of my classmates for a long time. It sounded like fun.”

Meghan listened to Dave’s words, but kept her eyes on Suzanne. The redhead rolled her eyes at the last statement and pushed her cosmo toward the center of the table.

She shifted her gaze back to Dave. He wiped a line of sweat from his forehead with a cocktail napkin, and focused his gaze on the tablecloth much the way Suzanne had earlier. His hands trembled.

“Did you talk to Mrs. Peterson tonight?”

“No. I chatted mostly with former teammates. I was the wide receiver on the championship team my senior year. Caught the winning toss from Eddie Mancuso. Maybe you remember?”

Sheriff Armstrong nodded. “Yes, Dave, I remember you—and Eddie.”

Meghan squirmed in her chair. Dave hadn’t caught the innuendo, but she understood the double meaning. The Fearsome Foursome as they’d sometimes been called back then had had more than a couple of visits from the law for their escapades.

Like the time they’d dumped laundry detergent into the fountain in the town square. Or rolled an ancient VW bug into the main hallway of the high school. She also remembered when they had stolen a dressmaker’s dummy, clothed it, and tossed it on the railroad tracks. The entire town had awakened at midnight to the sound of air brakes hissing and iron wheels screeching on the rails. The four had been lucky. The engineer managed to keep the train on the tracks. It was that prank that made her think the body in the pool had been their doing.

They were nothing more than a bunch of vandals who always got away scot free.

Meghan glanced at Zach. He gazed at her with a half smile on his lips. So he remembered, too.

“Where were you when the screaming started?” the sheriff asked, back to business.

“I—I don’t really remember.” Dave’s eyes shifted to the right.

He’s lying
.

“You came out onto the terrace asking if we’d seen Suzanne. Remember? Zach and Carl had gone down to the pond,” Meghan reminded him, sipping her wine.

Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t looking for his former girlfriend
.

He shot her a nasty look. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I was looking for Suzanne.”

“Where?”

Dave raised one shoulder. “She wasn’t in the ballroom or the lobby. I even dashed upstairs to check her room.” He clenched his teeth and curled his lip.

“How long did you search for her?” The sheriff continued writing in his notebook.

The sweat trickled down Dave’s cheek. He wiped it on his shirt sleeve.

“I—I don’t know.” Fear replaced his surly expression.

“Where else did you go looking for Miss Wayland?” Sheriff Armstrong pressed. The officer’s tone sharpened.

“I—I went into the parking lot, and then stopped by my car for a few minutes. I needed my briefcase from the trunk. It—it contained some, ah, papers I had to have—business papers.”

He stammered most of the answer and didn’t sound convincing. Throughout it all, he stared into the depths of his whisky glass.

If he’s not lying, he’s being damned evasive. What the hell was he really doing?
Meghan glanced quickly at Suzanne who curled her lips into a tight smile.
Like a cat lapping cream. She knows something.

“You brought business papers to a high school reunion that would last two days?”

Apparently, the sheriff didn’t buy his story either. Maybe he was a better cop than Meghan thought.

“The commodities market never sleeps, Sheriff.”

“What did you do with the papers?”

“I, ah, took them up to my room. Are you about finished? I can’t really add anything more.”

Sheriff Armstrong stared at Dave who still refused to make eye contact. A deputy walked up and whispered in Ray’s ear. He nodded and turned back to Dave.

“Stay put for a moment. I’ll be right back.” He left and followed the deputy to another table.

Dave swung angry eyes to Meghan. “Keep your goddamned mouth shut,” he snapped with a snarl.

Zach reached over and grabbed a fistful of shirt yanking his drunken classmate forward to within a few inches of his face.

“Watch your mouth, Coryell.” He released the man and shoved him back in the chair, then bolted the scotch in his glass.

A warm gush of emotion washed over Meghan. She’d never had a man defend her like that. It made her feel protected, wanted. It made her feel special. How strange that within the space of a few short hours, Zach Dunbar had become special to her, too. She could, however, defend herself. Time to let Dave know he’s not that important.

“Funny, when you heard Zach say the body in the pond was Suzanne, you didn’t have much of a reaction, yet when she stepped out of the shadows, you dropped your glass and looked as ready to faint as Glory did,” Meghan said.

“Well, of course I did. It was shocking.” He paused and licked his lips. “The sheriff thinks I’m lying.”

“You probably are,” Suzanne answered with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll bet I know what you were doing in the car. Should I tell the sheriff my suspicions?”

“You bitch! I can’t figure out what I ever saw in you.”

“You dated me twenty years ago because I was a good lay. You started dating me three months ago because you need money. I got news for you. I’m still a good lay, but you’re never going to find out.”

“I could have done much better—and did. You never knew I was getting it from Tami, too.”

Suzanne’s eyes sparked like fire. “Sure I did. We used to get together and Tami would give me a blow by blow description. If nothing else you were good for a laugh.” She snickered. “Your ego is a lot bigger than your johnson.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Meghan exclaimed, and then lowered her voice. “I don’t need to hear this. You two were full of yourselves in high school and you still are. Some people just don’t give a shit anymore. I’m one of them. Now, shut up.”

Suzanne opened her mouth to reply, but Zach cut her off.

“Don’t even think about answering back. Times have changed. Dave, I can probably buy and sell you a dozen times over. Suzanne, one of these days you’ll wake up, fifty years old with sagging body parts, and no longer attractive to men—except for your money. So start acting civil to people.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to either of you. You’re not worth the breath.”

Meghan heaved an elated breath. She and Zach thought alike.

The sheriff returned as Zach spoke the last sentence. Meghan figured he had to have heard, but made no comment. He resumed his seat and addressed Dave.

“Mr. Coryell, could I have your room number?”

He fished in his pocket and brought out the key. “Three-twenty-six.”

“Thank you for your time. You may go.”

Dave scrambled from his chair, grabbed his suit coat, and walked none too steadily toward the lobby. At the same time, Dan Masterson strode up with a frown.

“Sheriff Armstrong, I’ve been waiting for over an hour. What’s taking so damned long? Let’s get these people out of here. They’re tired and not sure what’s going on.”

“Mr. Masterson, approximately two hundred people are attending this reunion. All are potential witnesses. I have five deputies. Three of them are conducting interviews. The other two are patrolling the town. We’re working as fast as we can.”

“Sheriff, I have a responsibility to the citizens of Grandview. They look to me for guidance. It’s a job I take on willingly. I love this town and its people. That’s why I’m running for mayor. A murder is very upsetting, and I’d also like to talk to you about what you’ve found so far.”

“What I’ve found so far is not open to discussion.” He shot Dan a hard glance. “You know, I think you’re right. The sooner you’re interviewed, the sooner you can leave. Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair next to him.

A startled Dan did as told. Meghan stifled the urge to grin.

“I’ll cut this short, Mr. Councilman. Did you speak with Annabelle Peterson tonight?”

“Of course, I did. I welcomed her and Eric back home, chatted for a few minutes. She congratulated me on the fine job I was doing for the city and wished me luck in the upcoming election. I then continued to circulate among the crowd.”

Meghan picked up her wine glass forgetting it was empty and set it back down again.
I can’t believe what an ass this guy is. Please God, don’t let me hit him
.

“Did you go out onto the terrace tonight?”

“No, not that I recall. I was busy meeting and greeting. It was my duty.”

Zach kicked her under the table. Meghan glanced over, and he rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Mr. Masterson. Are you staying at the hotel?”

“No.”

“You’re free to go.”

Dan rose and placed his hands on the back of the chair.

“Perhaps, I should stay and help. As a representative of the city, I should have my fingers on the pulse of this case.”

“That does it,” Zach said. “Dan, go home. You were the class president, not President of the United States. You’re not needed here.”

Dan puffed up like a toad. “I beg your pardon?”

“What Zach’s trying to say is, you’re a pain in the ass,” Meghan added. Funny how wine released the inhibitions, not to mention her tongue.