woman. I figure she was freeloading in the house and mooching off the old lady. When things came to a head, Aimee killed her."
Brianna looked back at the house, like she was picturing the scene as it unfolded. " Maybe it was an argument, maybe Aimee thought she'd just kill her and steal whatever cash was lying around and then run away, but she got caught before she could leave. I'm not sure. Would you care to comment on that?"
There was a lot of things wrong with that theory, as far as Darcy could see. "Aimee was arrested in her pajamas. Not exactly what a girl dresses in if she's planning on killing someone and running."
"Hm. Good point. Didn't know that, about the pajamas." Brianna pulled a small spiral bound notebook and a pen out of an inside pocket of her long coat. "That will make a good detail for the story. Thanks."
"Sure," Darcy grumped. She looked around them, noticing something for the first time. Trees. The dirt road. "Where's your car?"
" Oh. I parked it down the road that way. Didn't want anyone to see it. That counts as your question, you know." She smiled triumphantly at Darcy. "So tell me. Was Aimee in town because her brother is a police officer here?"
Darcy weighed her answer a couple of different ways and then chose her words carefully. "She knew Jon was an officer here. She hadn't had any contact with him."
That answer made Brianna's eyes practically sparkle. "Oh. Jon. Excellent. Now I have a name to go with the story."
"But he didn't do anything," Darcy protested.
Brianna looked up sharply. "You know him? You act like you know him."
"Uh," Darcy cursed herself. "That's an extra question. Can't answer it. It's my turn. How did you find a note that Vivica Chartrand was writing when the police had already searched the house?"
She shrugged. It seemed like she did that a lot. " Police are human, too. They miss things. The note was all crumpled up in the waste basket. No one ever thinks to look through the trash. I mean, those bank statements on the table? Everyone must have seen those and the police left them, so obviously they aren't important."
Darcy felt her face fall a little. She really, really hoped Brianna was wrong about that.
"But stuff in the trash? That's always important. It must have been a first draft that the victim was writing and then tossed away." Brianna was proud of herself, and didn't mind showing it. "Now. My turn."
Darcy made a show of looking at her watch. She'd definitely told Brianna enough as it was, and she was giving away a lot more than she was getting. Time to end this. "I have to go, actually. Maybe we could meet some other time? The coffee shop in town, maybe?"
Brianna agreed quickly. She didn't want to lose a potential source of information, one that had let on how she knew the lead detective in the case, and Darcy didn't want to shut off that flow of information either. Having a newspaper reporter as a friend—or at least, a contact—might come in very handy.
They exchanged phone numbers, using Brianna's notebook paper. "Here's my e-mail address, too," Brianna told her. "What's yours?"
"It' s darcy at sweetreadbookstore dot com. All lower case."
"Okay, got it." She put the notebook back into its pocket, patting it like it was worth its weight in gold.
"Isn't the trench coat a little cliché?" Darcy asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
Brianna smiled and waggled a finger. "No more questions, remember?" She flipped the lapel of her coat up and turned away. "Catch you later, Darcy Sweet."
Darcy watched her go, walking slowly down the dirt road like she belonged there, not acting the least bit in a hurry. Interesting woman, Darcy thought to herself. She didn't know what to make of Brianna Watson.
Looking back toward the house, Darcy was surprised to see Vivica's ghost had followed them out of the house. The translucent
Brianna looked back at the house, like she was picturing the scene as it unfolded. " Maybe it was an argument, maybe Aimee thought she'd just kill her and steal whatever cash was lying around and then run away, but she got caught before she could leave. I'm not sure. Would you care to comment on that?"
There was a lot of things wrong with that theory, as far as Darcy could see. "Aimee was arrested in her pajamas. Not exactly what a girl dresses in if she's planning on killing someone and running."
"Hm. Good point. Didn't know that, about the pajamas." Brianna pulled a small spiral bound notebook and a pen out of an inside pocket of her long coat. "That will make a good detail for the story. Thanks."
"Sure," Darcy grumped. She looked around them, noticing something for the first time. Trees. The dirt road. "Where's your car?"
" Oh. I parked it down the road that way. Didn't want anyone to see it. That counts as your question, you know." She smiled triumphantly at Darcy. "So tell me. Was Aimee in town because her brother is a police officer here?"
Darcy weighed her answer a couple of different ways and then chose her words carefully. "She knew Jon was an officer here. She hadn't had any contact with him."
That answer made Brianna's eyes practically sparkle. "Oh. Jon. Excellent. Now I have a name to go with the story."
"But he didn't do anything," Darcy protested.
Brianna looked up sharply. "You know him? You act like you know him."
"Uh," Darcy cursed herself. "That's an extra question. Can't answer it. It's my turn. How did you find a note that Vivica Chartrand was writing when the police had already searched the house?"
She shrugged. It seemed like she did that a lot. " Police are human, too. They miss things. The note was all crumpled up in the waste basket. No one ever thinks to look through the trash. I mean, those bank statements on the table? Everyone must have seen those and the police left them, so obviously they aren't important."
Darcy felt her face fall a little. She really, really hoped Brianna was wrong about that.
"But stuff in the trash? That's always important. It must have been a first draft that the victim was writing and then tossed away." Brianna was proud of herself, and didn't mind showing it. "Now. My turn."
Darcy made a show of looking at her watch. She'd definitely told Brianna enough as it was, and she was giving away a lot more than she was getting. Time to end this. "I have to go, actually. Maybe we could meet some other time? The coffee shop in town, maybe?"
Brianna agreed quickly. She didn't want to lose a potential source of information, one that had let on how she knew the lead detective in the case, and Darcy didn't want to shut off that flow of information either. Having a newspaper reporter as a friend—or at least, a contact—might come in very handy.
They exchanged phone numbers, using Brianna's notebook paper. "Here's my e-mail address, too," Brianna told her. "What's yours?"
"It' s darcy at sweetreadbookstore dot com. All lower case."
"Okay, got it." She put the notebook back into its pocket, patting it like it was worth its weight in gold.
"Isn't the trench coat a little cliché?" Darcy asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
Brianna smiled and waggled a finger. "No more questions, remember?" She flipped the lapel of her coat up and turned away. "Catch you later, Darcy Sweet."
Darcy watched her go, walking slowly down the dirt road like she belonged there, not acting the least bit in a hurry. Interesting woman, Darcy thought to herself. She didn't know what to make of Brianna Watson.
Looking back toward the house, Darcy was surprised to see Vivica's ghost had followed them out of the house. The translucent
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