1 Depth of Field Read online

  I scanned the establishment, and my gaze stumbled upon Ollie himself. He stood at the elderly ladies’ table with Talia’s friends. I had no doubt Talia would be along shortly. While I watched them, Ollie met my gaze and nodded with a toothy smile. I returned his greeting and continued scanning the room. The place was a regular who’s who in Briney Creek what with Ollie, Talia, the ladies, Frank and Peony Trevor, and even the Brinlees, Inna’s parents. John liked running his gym next door to The Donut Hole for those feeling guilty about indulging to make it right with a jog around the indoor track. However, by his own admission, he did not approve of dumping junk into his temple, the name to which he always referred to his body.

  “This is some turnout,” Ollie said, appearing out of nowhere at my elbow.

  “It’s not exactly a party, Ollie.”

  He pretended not to understand my meaning, but the smile never left his face. The awful thing was having fun. “It’s not? Well, you can’t expect less than this, Makayla, when we haven’t had a murder in almost twenty-five years.”

  Now that answered a question I had had. They were all gossiping about it nonstop. I’d thought it would have calmed down by now. Ollie tugged my sleeve. He practically bounced in excitement. If the wrinkles in his face and hands weren’t so prominent along with the gappy smile and balding head, I might have thought he was a child. “Look over there,” he demanded, and I followed his rudely pointing finger.

  On the opposite side of the room, through a narrow, shifting lane, I spotted Louisa Strombeck and Pattie Lane occupying a table. Their heads were lowered, and they spoke in obvious whispers even though I was too far to hear what they might be saying. At that moment, Louisa happened to look up and catch Ollie pointing. She glared, her hands balling into fists atop the table and lips disappearing in her anger. Ollie seemed oblivious to the fact that someone among the people we came across every day had committed murder, and he could be pointing at her right now.

  I reached out to grab his hand, but he moved out of reach and let the crowd swallow him up. After he was gone, Louisa kept staring at me. I recalled my mission and refused to let her intimidate me. As I took a step in her direction, a shrill, angry voice caught my attention. I stood on tiptoe above the swelling line leading out the door. “Get out of my way!”

  A bottle blonde head appeared sitting atop a petite, beautiful woman. I realized I had seen her a few times before but never put together her name until one of the women in the line touched her arm. “Susan, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Susan seemed to remember that she was supposed to be the grieving widow. Some of the vehemence left her face, and she nodded at the woman. I waited for a tissue to appear from nowhere in her hand and for her to dab dry eyes, but she didn’t go that far. Thank goodness. Still, Susan Aston seemed out of place in the Hole. In fact, she shrank from allowing others to touch her, as if she might catch a disease from us commoners.

  Pattie Lane arrived to take her arm to lead her from the crowd, and I did my best to get in closer so I could hear any exchange. Susan offered Pattie a sour look but she didn’t pull away from Pattie’s touch.

  “Why did you want to meet in this god awful place?” Susan demanded. “And so early. I don’t like getting up before noon.”

  “Don’t complain,” Pattie told her, weariness in her tone, a hard feat when both of them raised their voices to be heard above the noise. “I wanted donuts. I didn’t think we would run into this, and you didn’t answer your cell phone. Plus, Louisa said she has to get in to work early.”

  “Don’t want to keep Louisa waiting,” Susan snapped, rolling her eyes.

  I tried to follow them, but found it impossible unless I wanted to step into the small area open right next to their table. That might be a little obvious. From my vantage point, I took in the ladies. All with perfect hair, and why not if Louisa used her talents for its upkeep. They were each of an age, maybe mid-thirties. In a small town like this, they had probably grown up together and knew each other well. Yet, from the way they treated each other—Susan and Louisa more so than Pattie—if they were friends it might be more because of proximity than anything else.

  “For you.” Frank hobbled before me, leaning heavily on his cane. He held a plate of two beautiful glazed donuts, and my mouth watered.

  “I haven’t ordered yet.”

  He grinned, making the scar that had cut away most of his right eyebrow shift position. This was an odd phenomenon I found fascinating. “To thank you for bringing Randall,” he said. “I was getting desperate.”

  Although he said he’d been desperate, there was genuine delight in his expression, and it puzzled me. I couldn’t hold back asking, “You’re thrilled with all this craziness, Frank.”

  “Of course. All it took was murder.”

  I blinked in confusion. My blood going ice cold. “What?”

  He burst out laughing and waggled a thick finger at me. “You’re easy, Makayla. Look around you.” He gestured. “My family’s here.”

  At first I thought he meant the citizens were all considered family, but no, he indicated Peony. She’d taken a break from serving to give her baby a bottle. Frank practically glowed with happiness.

  “Not just them,” he continued. “Alvin Aston dying was a terrible thing, but look at all my customers. I can pay the mortgage this month.”

  “Did you know Alvin well?”

  He shrugged. “He was an arrogant bastard just like his wife.”

  His sentiment took me by surprise, but I said nothing.

  “By now, you’ve heard the rumors. Everybody knows I was having financial trouble. Alvin controlled my loan. Now he’s gone, a lot of customers are coming in. It might not last, but for now…”

  Frank stopped talking and thrust the plate into my hand. He maneuvered with awkward movements through the crowd and soon slapped a beefy hand on the back of one of his friends. They laughed loud and gestured dramatically as they talked. I bit into my first donut and sighed. Warm from the fryer, moist and enchanting, it soothed me with its sugary goodness. By the time the last bite disappeared down my gullet, I recalled I had decided to have my donuts in the afternoon rather than the morning, so I could continue to visit with Inna now that she had changed her hours to then. Well, I could always come anyway and not eat donuts, I thought, but who was I kidding. The cinnamon and sugar hung in the air, almost like an invisible net waiting to engulf me and force my mouth open to eat. I mean, I wish I could blame it on force.

  Accepting that I had no hope unless I figured out a better strategy, I approached the counter again. This time, I was able to catch Peony’s attention as she had finished feeding the baby. I put in my order for a dozen assorted donuts and two large cups of coffee. Then I braved the trek to Susan Aston and company’s table. I didn’t really think they would tell me anything, but it was worth a try.

  Considering what Talia had told me of Alvin, as I approached I studied each woman in turn. Pattie wasn’t as attractive as the other two by modern media’s standards. While her hair appeared to be kept up by a stylist’s talents, the curls didn’t quite hold, and anyone with half an eye could see she had little body in it. Still, the style suited her oval face, but with an uneven skin tone and dull eyes, she seemed to pale next to the more vibrant Louisa and Susan. Did one of these women have an affair with Alvin and Susan found out? Thinking that Susan killed her husband for cheating just didn’t ring as a move she would make. From the little I’d seen of her attitude and what I had heard, I didn’t think so.

  Louisa? With the level of malice she displayed to me and others, maybe. She too behaved with a superior attitude I found annoying. Then there was Pattie, quiet, unassuming Pattie. Where did she fit in with the other two? Why did they even tolerate her? I almost laughed out loud as I drew up to the table. Who other than Pattie could put up with Louisa and Susan? Even the mean girls needed friends.

  “Good morning, ladies,” I greeted them and offered my best smile. Susan and Louisa glared, and Pa
ttie tried for a smile but failed. Her lips moved as if she said hello, but I couldn’t hear her above the noise. I had no idea how to lead in to what I wanted to know, so I took the most obvious tactic. “Susan, I know we haven’t met, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss. I didn’t know Alvin really—”

  “Fine,” Susan interrupted. “You said your piece. We’re busy.”

  “Susan,” Pattie chastised her. “Enough! You can’t treat everyone like that.”

  “Why can’t I?” Susan demanded. “I’m the one who lost my husband.”

  The emphasis wasn’t missed on the other two women, I noticed. Both Pattie and Louisa’s eyes were red-rimmed, obviously from crying. Yet, Susan’s were clear and hate-filled. She actually despised the women she sat with for their love of her husband. For an instant, I felt sorry for her. Susan should have been his darling. In fact, she looked like the type, small-boned, ethereal, wide blue eyes and a glorious head of blonde hair. Still, Alvin had strayed. No doubt about it.

  “Makayla.” I turned to find Frank had returned, this time with his baby girl in his arms. I worried he couldn’t navigate with her and the cane, but he managed okay. Unfortunately, his interruption meant I couldn’t continue to question the women. All three stood as if on cue and made their way out of the restaurant. I suppressed a groan and faced Frank with a smile.

  I stuck a finger out and let the baby’s tiny hand curl around mine. My heart stirred. “She looks like she’s happy to be in her daddy’s arms.”

  Frank’s head was bent as he watched his baby girl. “There’s nothing in my wallet, Makayla.”

  I thought he was returning to his money issues, but he continued.

  “There should be fifty pictures in there I can bore all the guys with showing them every day, but there’s nothing in there.” He chuckled, his cheeks pinking.

  “I’m sorry. I’m on my way to talk to the sheriff now about getting my pictures back,” I told him. “I can at least get him to let me into the studio to access my files. Then yours are the first I’ll work on. I promise.”

  He beamed. “Here that, Sasha?” He continued to talk to the baby as he strode away, and I shook my head. Her papa would drive me crazy if I didn’t convince Spencer to let me at my pictures. He had better be prepared because I wasn’t leaving the station until he gave me the answer I wanted to hear.

  I retrieved my order of donuts and coffee then gained permission from Peony to use the back exit to get to the street. All I needed was for someone to barrel into me while I maneuvered the goodies after waiting so long for them. When I made it to the street and my car, Ollie was just exiting the front of the Hole. He hurried over to me and opened the door. I thanked him and leaned across the seats to place the coffee and donuts on the passenger side.

  “Makayla, I wanted to tell you a deputy called me about the key to your studio,” he confessed, and I gasped.

  “Why would he call you, Ollie?”

  “Because I empty trash cans at many of the businesses in this area, yours included. Been doing it near on fifteen years.” He clenched his hands into fists and frowned. “But I would never give the key to anyone else. Ever.”

  I nodded. “Do you think someone could have stolen your key, made a copy, and replaced it?”

  He shook his head. “Not possible.” He brought out a ring of what looked like fifty keys from his pocket and held them up for me to see. “These stay with me night and day. I’m never one place and they’re another because there’s been emergencies where I’m needed to help people get into their businesses when they lock themselves out or they lose a key.”

  “I understand.” I did, but I wasn’t convinced no one could get access to his keys. Of course, I was still new, and there really didn’t seem to be a reason to gain entrance to my studio.

  “The locks have already been changed,” Ollie added, and I opened my mouth to ask for a key, but he beat me to the punch. “I had nothing to do with it. The sheriff went ahead and ordered the change, and as far as I know, he has the only copies. Guess he’ll release them when he’s ready.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I turned toward my car, thinking it all over and making no sense of what I had learned today. All I had managed to do was produce more questions.

  “Makayala?” Ollie called, as I curled behind the steering wheel of my car. I looked up at him, and he winked. “Say hi to the sheriff for me.”

  That darn Talia! I slammed the door closed without a word and gunned the engine to life.

  Chapter Six

  The sheriff’s station in Briney Creek was a small one, the space they occupied shared with a copy center of all things. When walking into the lobby one could decide to go left to the police department or right for copies and binding, like Kinko’s but a knockoff. I had found it amusing the first time I visited and learned the citizens thought nothing of it. I did wonder as I entered the building today how Spencer viewed the setup.

  As soon as I passed through the glass door leading into the police station, several officers’ heads popped up. The dispatcher sat in a desk at the corner of the rectangular room. Next to him, a receptionist filed her nails. The phone rang, and she straightened the wireless headset on her ears and punched a button. The perky tone of voice was incongruent with the bored expression on her face.

  I knew Briney Creek Police Department employed one sheriff, one chief deputy, and eight deputies. Apparently, the dispatcher was considered a deputy, but the receptionist was not. If the small town hadn’t had a murder in twenty-five years, the current staff must be plenty. That is, assuming there weren’t other serious crimes getting out of hand. The citizenship had topped fifteen thousand with little Sasha’s birth.

  “Hm, is that from the Hole?” One of the deputies drifted over to me. I sidestepped his seeking hands.

  “Is the sheriff in? I need to speak with him.”

  The average height, lanky man eyeballed my prize, perpetuating a stereotype. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I didn’t trust him. He never met my gaze. “He’s pretty busy. Looks like you have a few in there.”

  “Honestly!” I set the entire load down on the desk where he sat, dug into the box, and produced a glazed twister. But rather than hand it to him, I held it up. “Can I see him?”

  He frowned at me. “Are you bribing an officer of the law?”

  “I’m eating.” I took a bite and chewed slowly. I’d eaten enough earlier. Not a good idea, but it was worth it when the deputy demanded I go on back. Before the others could realize I’d shared, I stuffed a cruller into his hand and jetted toward the closed door he indicated.

  With a gentle kick to the door, since my hands were full, I waited for an answer. Spencer’s command to enter reached me. I started to kick again, but an arm reached past me and the previous officer turned the knob. I thanked him, noting his uniform shirt now contained flakes of glaze. I moved into the office, and he shouted after me.

  “Sheriff, I’m making a quick run to the Hole for me and the guys.”

  “I’ll take chocolate-covered or blueberry,” Spencer said without looking up from the papers in front of him.

  “I think you’re covered, sir.”

  “What?” Spencer frowned and looked up just as his deputy shut the door.

  “I come bearing gifts,” I said, my voice cast low and sultry, almost without my meaning it to be. “Good morning, sheriff.”

  His gaze traveled my length, but he kept his expression neutral. “Good morning. Is that for me?”

  I approached his desk. The office was both small and neat. One couldn’t do much else with the space without feeling claustrophobic. I had thought my studio tiny, but the sheriff’s office looked like a closet.

  He stood up and grabbed for one of the cups. A huge gulp through the tiny hole in the plastic lid didn’t appear to burn his mouth. “In case you’re wondering, this is a closet.”

  “I wasn’t,” I lied.

  “Has anyone ever told you, you’re a horrible
liar?”

  “Nope,” I lied again. The second I set the box on his desk, he attacked and frowned when he scanned the contents. “One chocolate, one blueberry.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know your preferences. I’ll know the next time. I have plainer tastes, so I think they added more glazed thinking of me.”

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Shrewd eyes studied me as he bit into the blueberry donut and gestured for me to take a seat. I wasn’t ready to jump into the case after the morning I had had at the Hole. Not to mention that I just wanted this to be about a simple visit. Sad but true.

  “What do you mean this is a closet?” I asked, delaying. “You don’t have the budget for a bigger office?”

  “The situation isn’t as tragic as that. My office is being renovated.”

  “Ohh.” I raised my eyebrows, amused. “The sheriff needs new digs right from the start?”

  He chuckled. “No, there was a leak, and it damaged a third of the ceiling and one wall.”

  “Oh,” I said again.

  “So what’s on your mind?”

  I huffed. “Can’t I just want to see you?”

  For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze steady on mine, I felt my breath constrict in my chest. We’d moved fast to get to this point of casting soulful looks in each other’s direction. Thinking that way amused me, but I couldn’t look anywhere else but at him, and he seemed just as mesmerized, to my great satisfaction.

  At last he spoke. “I recognize when a person isn’t being fully honest with me.”

  “And you’re also blunt.” I assumed we were listing his shortcomings. One corner of his mouth turned up a little, and I matched it with a full on smile. He indicated a chair, and I took it. When he sat down again, he grabbed the chocolate donut and devoured it in a few bites. I began to think an investigation needed to be launched into the addiction level of sugar.