Read Online For Whom the Bluebell Tolls by Beverly Allen - Free Book Online
Authors: Beverly Allen
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over my skin, added fresh deodorant, and slipped on a clean T-shirt.
When I opened the door, I was greeted by two frozen smiles. Three, if you count Chester, who was sitting on Brad’s lap.
“I was getting reacquainted with Chest Hair.” Brad nuzzled my purring cat under the chin.
A smirk started across Nick’s face, but before he could get out the quip I knew was coming, I blurted, “Liv thinks you should get a lawyer.”
“Why would I need—?”
“Think about it, Brad. You found the body, so that puts you at the scene of the crime. You had a fight with Gary this morning—”
“A fight?” Nick said.
“An argument,” Brad said. “More of a professional disagreement.”
“He threatened to fire you,” I said. “And more than that—to end your career.”
“That does sound implicating.” Nick calmly plucked several gray cat hairs from his baker’s whites, a common activity when he wore his work clothes in my apartment.
“But Gary spouted off all the time,” Brad said. “And he always cooled down and forgot about it. Besides, he threatened Audrey, too.”
“He did?” Nick looked up in concern.
“Yes, but I have an alibi,” I said. “I was in the shop with our full staff, waiting to learn what design Gary picked so we could get a jump on the rest of the flowers.
You
were at the scene of the crime. Motive, means, and opportunity.”
Brad turned ashen. “You can’t think I killed Gary.”
“Of course not,” I said. “But I can’t prove it to the police.”
Maybe Brad’s grasp of Chester got a little too tight at that point, because the cat hopped from Brad’s lap to the sofa, then curled up on Nick’s lap. Nick looked a little too proud of being chosen as he stroked Chester behind the ears. At least someone was getting a little love.
“Why don’t you tell us what happened,” I said, “from the time you got there until I arrived, and maybe we can see how that will sound to the police. Huh? First of all, why did you go to the church?”
Brad closed his eyes and exhaled slowly from pursed lips. He looked like he was meditating. “I got a text from Gary, telling me to meet him at the church. He wanted to check out the bell. Which . . .” Brad’s eyes opened in surprise.
“Isn’t right,” I said.
“The venue has always been Gigi’s domain.” Nick cocked his head. “Why would he suddenly be interested in the church or the bell?”
“So now you’re an expert on the show?” Brad said, a little bit petulantly.
“I have to keep current.” Nick held up a bridal magazine. “I’m in the bridal industry, too.”
“Which is beside the point,” I said. No, Nick and Brad together was not a good idea. I turned to Brad. “Do you still have Gary’s text on your phone?”
“Yes. That should help me, right? I can show it to Bixby to prove to him why I was there.”
“But it doesn’t prove that you didn’t arrive and then kill him,” Nick said. “Or that the text even came from Gary. Who’s to say you didn’t kill Gary, text yourself using his phone, set him swinging, and then pretend to find him?”
“Thanks a lot!” Brad said.
“Nick’s right,” I added. “Nothing in that proves you didn’t kill Gary. So let’s go on. You got the text and then what?”
“I drove the Range Rover to the church. As soon as I stepped outside, the bells started ringing. I didn’t see any of our staff cars, but the door to the church was unlocked. I figured it must be Gary checking it out, so I climbed the stairwell that leads to the belfry and found him . . . dangling from the rope.”
“How did you know where the belfry was?” Nick asked.
“I grew up here. I used to ring that bell when I was a kid. It was considered a special honor. I’d leave to ring the bell, and half the time nobody noticed if I didn’t make it back to the pew. It was one way of going to church without getting a sermon. Besides,
campanologist
looked good on my college
When I opened the door, I was greeted by two frozen smiles. Three, if you count Chester, who was sitting on Brad’s lap.
“I was getting reacquainted with Chest Hair.” Brad nuzzled my purring cat under the chin.
A smirk started across Nick’s face, but before he could get out the quip I knew was coming, I blurted, “Liv thinks you should get a lawyer.”
“Why would I need—?”
“Think about it, Brad. You found the body, so that puts you at the scene of the crime. You had a fight with Gary this morning—”
“A fight?” Nick said.
“An argument,” Brad said. “More of a professional disagreement.”
“He threatened to fire you,” I said. “And more than that—to end your career.”
“That does sound implicating.” Nick calmly plucked several gray cat hairs from his baker’s whites, a common activity when he wore his work clothes in my apartment.
“But Gary spouted off all the time,” Brad said. “And he always cooled down and forgot about it. Besides, he threatened Audrey, too.”
“He did?” Nick looked up in concern.
“Yes, but I have an alibi,” I said. “I was in the shop with our full staff, waiting to learn what design Gary picked so we could get a jump on the rest of the flowers.
You
were at the scene of the crime. Motive, means, and opportunity.”
Brad turned ashen. “You can’t think I killed Gary.”
“Of course not,” I said. “But I can’t prove it to the police.”
Maybe Brad’s grasp of Chester got a little too tight at that point, because the cat hopped from Brad’s lap to the sofa, then curled up on Nick’s lap. Nick looked a little too proud of being chosen as he stroked Chester behind the ears. At least someone was getting a little love.
“Why don’t you tell us what happened,” I said, “from the time you got there until I arrived, and maybe we can see how that will sound to the police. Huh? First of all, why did you go to the church?”
Brad closed his eyes and exhaled slowly from pursed lips. He looked like he was meditating. “I got a text from Gary, telling me to meet him at the church. He wanted to check out the bell. Which . . .” Brad’s eyes opened in surprise.
“Isn’t right,” I said.
“The venue has always been Gigi’s domain.” Nick cocked his head. “Why would he suddenly be interested in the church or the bell?”
“So now you’re an expert on the show?” Brad said, a little bit petulantly.
“I have to keep current.” Nick held up a bridal magazine. “I’m in the bridal industry, too.”
“Which is beside the point,” I said. No, Nick and Brad together was not a good idea. I turned to Brad. “Do you still have Gary’s text on your phone?”
“Yes. That should help me, right? I can show it to Bixby to prove to him why I was there.”
“But it doesn’t prove that you didn’t arrive and then kill him,” Nick said. “Or that the text even came from Gary. Who’s to say you didn’t kill Gary, text yourself using his phone, set him swinging, and then pretend to find him?”
“Thanks a lot!” Brad said.
“Nick’s right,” I added. “Nothing in that proves you didn’t kill Gary. So let’s go on. You got the text and then what?”
“I drove the Range Rover to the church. As soon as I stepped outside, the bells started ringing. I didn’t see any of our staff cars, but the door to the church was unlocked. I figured it must be Gary checking it out, so I climbed the stairwell that leads to the belfry and found him . . . dangling from the rope.”
“How did you know where the belfry was?” Nick asked.
“I grew up here. I used to ring that bell when I was a kid. It was considered a special honor. I’d leave to ring the bell, and half the time nobody noticed if I didn’t make it back to the pew. It was one way of going to church without getting a sermon. Besides,
campanologist
looked good on my college
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