Scarlet Vows

“Guy’s weird,” Jake muttered.

Privately, Drew agreed. He didn’t know Manning, though his Uncle Geoff did.

“Hard to picture someone like him married to a woman like Ursula Manning.”

Drew rubbed his jaw, nodding in agreement. He still expected Manning to step out of one of the shops.

“Cops know what she was doin’ there?” Jake asked conversationally.

Drew turned his attention back to the beefy biker. “If they do, they aren’t saying.”

But Ursula Manning had been scared. Drew had seen her look toward the line of trees right before she fell. David Bryson had been lurking in those trees only a short time earlier—a fact Drew had been only too happy to share with the police.

So had Leland Manning.

“At least ballistics will show who fired the fatal shots,” Jake said. “That should change Manning’s attitude.”

“Hopefully.” While all the weapons had been confiscated for testing, in the confusion immediately following the shooting, things had been pretty muddled. It was possible the police had missed a gun or two.

“Understand Manning’s wife was a nature photographer from Salem,” Jake said thoughtfully. “Guess that might explain what she was doing in the woods, but you have to wonder what made her climb a clearly posted fence that way. She must have heard the gunfire.”

He was right. Which meant she’d deliberately run toward the sound, probably looking for help.

Jake tipped his head, consideringly. “Buy you a beer?”

Touched by the unexpected offer, Drew shook his head. “I’d like that, but I have some people waiting for me over at the diner. Another time?”

“Sure. Stop by Wheels any time you’re in the neighborhood.”

Drew headed for the diner without catching a glimpse of Leland Manning. Carey was standing outside, hands thrust in his pockets. There was an unusual slump to his posture. He straightened as soon as he spotted Drew.

“Where’d you go?” Carey demanded.

“For a walk.”

“In this heat? Are you nuts?”

“Drop it, Carey.”

Carey raised his palms in surrender. “Sure. Consider it dropped.” He sent a speculative gaze toward the bar. “Zach ran Nancy back to the estate. She’s not too happy with you right now.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“A little sweet talk wouldn’t hurt. She kept muttering something about damage control.”

“Nancy doesn’t need sweet talk from me. She works for me, remember?”

“Whoa. You are in a mood. Uh, look, I’m sorry if I ticked you off inside. You aren’t—you know—still interested in that waitress, are you? I mean, she’s got…” Carey took a hasty step back. “Oh, hell.”

“Don’t say another word,” Drew warned him. He couldn’t see his friend’s eyes, hidden behind dark sunglasses, but he sensed a whole stream of questions. Too bad. He didn’t owe Carey or anyone else an explanation. He strode over to where they’d parked and waited for Carey to hit the button that unlocked the passenger door.

“When do I get my car back?” Drew asked as he slid inside the bright green sports car he’d lent Carey several weeks ago.

“My car’s supposed to be out of the shop tomorrow if they get that part in. Do you need it before then?”

Drew shook his head. “Tomorrow’s fine.” He had other cars at his disposal.

They rode in silence, letting their private thoughts do the talking on the drive back to the Pierce compound. Carey pulled Drew’s sports car up in front of the main house instead of parking.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Drew asked.

“No. Thanks.”

“Look, I’m sorry I jumped down your throat.”

Carey regarded him soberly. “You know, don’t you?”

His stomach plummeted. “Know what?”

“One of the four of us must have fired the shots that killed her.”

BRIE WAS RELIEVED when she could finally take off her apron and head home a little early. Questions without answers had tormented her all evening as she took orders and waited tables. Andrew Pierce and the shooting were on everyone’s lips, especially after the way he left the diner before his food arrived.

New rumors were circulating. One had Ursula Manning attacked by bears in the woods. Another said she’d been kidnapped and held for ransom. Rumors being a way of life, Brie didn’t put much stock in any of them, but she did wonder about Drew’s abrupt departure. Seeing him again wasn’t supposed to be so traumatic. She wasn’t supposed to care anymore. Only, she had missed Drew and their long conversations over pie and coffee.

She’d always known he was going to be someone important in politics one day. He was so smart and he cared so much. And she’d used that knowledge to convince herself not to tell him about Nicole. Drew was an honorable man, who didn’t need a scandal or an unacceptable wife and child just because she’d been a fool. Yet sooner or later someone would tell him she had a daughter. Drew wasn’t stupid. He could do the math. Then what?

Why had he come to the diner today? People had long memories. Even without Carey’s careless remark, someone was bound to remember the summer he’d hung out at the diner. What if that someone went to the media? Nicole’s eyes were a dead giveaway to her parentage. Brie gripped her pad a little tighter.

A sense of helpless panic built inside her.

The residents of Moriah’s Landing tended to live by very narrow, old-fashioned codes of behavior. They didn’t hang women for being witches anymore or brand them with a scarlet letter, but they wouldn’t condone a Pierce getting a young girl from the wrong side of town pregnant, and then abandoning her to her fate. It wouldn’t matter to anyone that Drew hadn’t known about the child. He’d be expected to know. The gossip would destroy him—and his budding career in politics.

Depressed by the course of her thoughts, Brie said good-night to her co-workers and stepped outside. Her mind still raced with “what if” images as the hot muggy air of the night enfolded her.

A summer storm was brewing. She could feel it pulsing over the water. Her mother had always said Brie was better than a barometer. She searched the dark sky. It would thunder soon.

Her steps faltered. A cluster of men stood at the far end of the sidewalk in the gap between Wheels and the Bait and Tackle shop.

Little light reached that stretch of sidewalk. Not enough to identify the men. She was about to cross the street when she recognized Razz’s nasal voice. His words carried clearly, stopping her mid-stride.

“Pierce killed the Manning woman, all right, and who’s to say it was really an accident?”

“You mean he shot her on purpose?”

“Think about it. A good-lookin’ woman like that married to an old man? It’d be a heck of a clever way to get rid of an unwanted lover, don’t you think?”

“You think she was messin’ around with him?”

“Rider saw her get in Pierce’s car one day.”

“That don’t mean nothing.”

“I heard her wrists had marks like she’d been tied up,” another voice dissented.

“Maybe Pierce is into S and M,” someone else joked.

Brie knew she should keep walking. They were only gossiping like everyone else.

“Wait and see,” Razz said. “Some other poor slob will take the fall for her death. No one can say for sure who was shooting with which gun. Makes for a nice clean murder.”

“I don’t know, man…”

“Me an’ Dodie was there,” Razz persisted. “The whole town saw Pierce standin’ over her body. He looked guilty as sin. Nice, huh? We could elect ourselves a mayor who got away with murder.”

Fury washed away her common sense. Brianna strode forward, the slap of her soles echoing hollowly on the cobblestone street. All four heads swiveled in her direction.

“Do you know the penalty for slander, Edgar?” she demanded, using his hated given name.

Razz bristled. He loomed tall and menacing, but Brie refused to back down.

“Now, why do I have a feeling Mayor Thane paid you to spread that rumor? Must be because I saw him talking with you and Dodie out here a few hours ago. What’s the going rate for malicious gossip, Edgar?”

She had seen the mayor stop his car in the street to talk with them shortly after Drew abruptly left the diner.

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” he said.

“Does the truth hurt? You told me that you and Dodie didn’t get there until after the shooting,” she reminded him.

The three toughs looked from her to Razz. He bristled as he realized he was losing credibility.

“If you don’t want to get hurt, move along. This here’s a private conversation.”

“On a public sidewalk,” she fired back.

Her insides twisted at the sudden feral malice in his expression. Razz and trouble had always been synonymous. But even the night of her only date with him, she had never considered him dangerous.

Until now.

She should have kept her mouth closed and kept walking. But since she hadn’t, she knew better than to let him see any trace of fear.

“Fair warning, Razz. I wouldn’t make accusations like that so publicly if I were you,” she warned.

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