Well-Offed In Vermont Part 25

Stella, deep in thought, frowned. Was this what Bunny had seen? An ad for Jarrett Rifles?

Nick noticed the change in Stella's facial expression. "What is it?"

"The only thing I can think of is that Bunny saw those ads."

Mills stepped forward. "Both she and Weston were killed with a hunting rifle. Don't know if-"

The three turned around to see Clyde hanging on their every word.

"I think we're done here," Stella announced. "Maybe we should go somewhere to talk-in private."

"Yeah, thanks, Clyde," Mills politely added.

"Welcome," the storeowner replied. "Did I hear you say you think the killer used a Jarrett?"

"Don't know. Why?"

"Hank Reid owns one. He was in here last week telling me how he was going to take his out bear hunting this weekend."

"Jarretts-they're custom jobs, aren't they?"

"Yup. Expensive too. Not likely to see many of them."

"Hmph." Mills led the way out of the store. "Well, thanks again, Clyde. See ya."

Clyde followed them outside and locked the store behind him before driving away in a dilapidated white van.

When he had gone, Nick gave a triumphant laugh. "Ha! I knew it was Reid!"

"Careful now," Mills warned. "We don't know that for sure. We'd need to match Reid's rifle to the bullet wounds."

"Yeah, but come on. Bunny looks up and sees her boyfriend's favorite hunting rifle advertised on the wall. She realizes he might have killed Weston and runs out of the store. Stel"-Nick always shortened his wife's name in moments of excitement-"do you remember what she was saying before she freaked out?"

"She was talking about how men will do anything to impress a-"

"A what?"

"She ran off before she finished the sentence. But considering she was talking about Sheriff Mills and Alma, I'm a.s.suming she was going to say 'woman.'"

"See? Even that fits how Reid won over his wife by shooting her boyfriend."

"What it doesn't fit is why Weston was dressed the way he was and why he moved his truck into the woods."

"Easy. He was hiding from Reid. I'd hide from that old coot too if I were Weston."

"Why was Weston at our house in the first place?"

"To work on our well. Sometimes the obvious answer is the right one." Nick held his arms aloft and wiggled his knees back and forth.

"What is he doing?" Mills asked Stella.

"That's his victory dance," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I solved it," Nick shouted. "I said it was Reid from the beginning, and I was right. Who's number one? Who's number one?"

"We won't know he did it until we check his rifle," Mills re-minded him.

"Yeah, Nick, so keep it under your hat for now. Because if the ballistics don't match, you'll go from number one to looking like number two."

"Oh, they'll match, all right," Nick boasted as he climbed into Mills's pickup. "And do you know why?"

He pointed to his chest. "Because I'm number one," he silently mouthed.

CHAPTER.

18.

CUTTING HIS SUNDAY short in order to report his findings, Charlie Mills returned to the sheriff's department, dropping Stella and Nick back at the camp along the way.

Stella kicked off her black flats and sat cross-legged on the air mattress while she resumed her st.i.tching.

"Since I've solved our crime, how about we take this evening off to celebrate? We can go outside and watch the sun set over the Green Mountains and then have an early dinner. I'll grill up those steaks Alma brought over, and there's still some wine and beer in the cooler. What do you think?" Nick sat beside his wife and wrapped a muscular arm around her shoulders.

"I think that a woman couldn't possibly have lifted that frame by herself."

With a heavy sigh, Nick flopped backward onto the bed. "What part of the case is solved and let's take tonight off confused you?"

"I'm sorry, I just can't get it out of my head. I know Mills thinks Maggie's behind the break-in at Weston's house, but I disagree. First of all, that frame is enormous and very heavy, I'm sure. It would take some strength and skill to get it off the wall, let alone carry it back home."

"Yeah, it's about the size of a plate-gla.s.s window, isn't it? And Maggie walks everywhere."

"Exactly. Can you imagine her bringing that through the woods? Secondly, Maggie referred to the painting as the treasure. I don't think she has any idea that the frame might be the valuable piece."

"You think it's the valuable piece, but you haven't confirmed that yet," Nick sat back up. "For all you know, Weston sold the painting and kept the frame as a souvenir. But it's all conjecture right now. As Mills said, we can't do anything about this until tomorrow."

"I know. I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Maybe you need a distraction," Nick reached over and grabbed the cross-st.i.tch fabric from his wife's hands before reaching around her waist and kissing her.

"Keep that up and I might forget about the case altogether," she said with a seductive smile. "And I don't think I want to do that ... yet."

"I can wear a Sherlock Holmes deerstalker hat if it will help remind you." He kissed her again, only to have her rear back.

"Wait! Oh my G.o.d, that's it!"

"What? What did I say? What did I do?"

"The deerstalker hat."

"Really? Jeez, had I known you found that such a turn-on, I'd have bought one years ago."

"No, no, no, I'm excited, but not excited that way."

"Shocking." Nick let his arms fall from around her waist.

"I'm excited because Weston's clothes were like your deerstalker hat."

"You do realize I'm not actually wearing one, don't you?"

"Yes, will you listen to me?" With a loud sigh, she stood up. "I'm saying that Weston's clothes weren't a disguise, they were a costume."

"Hallow-"

"I know, Nick, Halloween is three weeks away. It wasn't that type of costume. According to Alma, Bunny, and Mills, Weston was seeing a woman-someone other than Alma. Someone so desperate to remain unseen that she ducked down in the pa.s.senger seat of Weston's car."

"Right. What's your point? That everyone in this town is getting it on except for us? Because I'm already aware of that."

"Stop thinking of s.e.x for a minute, will you? At least, stop thinking about s.e.x between us-for the moment. Let's a.s.sume that Weston wants to meet up with this mystery woman. Where do they go? Between Alma's visits and Crazy Maggie lurking around, they can't go to Weston's house. It's too risky. And they've already been spotted traveling out of town together. Suddenly, the phone rings-it's Alice Broadman asking if Weston's company will service the old Colton house."

"That's our place."

"Yes, good, you're following. Weston knows the house is empty and somewhat secluded, so he offers to service the house"-"And his girlfriend," Nick inserted-"personally. He has his secretary schedule the appointment for that Wednesday and then proceeds to call his lover-"

"Wednesday? Our well was serviced on a Thursday."

"Weston's lover agrees to meet him at our house on Wednesday until, at the last minute, she can't break away. She calls Weston, Weston has his secretary call Alice, and the rendezvous is rescheduled for the next day, which is Thursday."

"Okay. I'm with you so far, but what about the clothes?"

"Either at his girlfriend's request, or because he knows she likes the rugged type, Weston decides to play up the whole construction angle. He buys a plaid s.h.i.+rt and jeans-inexpensive, of course, because he never intends on wearing them in public or for very long and, well, they fit the part-and calls her when he arrives at the house."

"So that's who he was on the phone with when Alice arrived."

Stella nodded. "Knowing he'll have to actually work on the well after his a.s.signation, Weston unloads the truck and then, so that no one will know he's there and possibly interrupt their afternoon delight, he moves the truck into the woods and walks back to the house, where his sweetie is waiting for him."

"On our air mattress. Good thing we got a new one."

"I hadn't even thought of that. Wow, that makes me glad we didn't ..."

"Yeah, me too," Nick agreed. "So, who killed Weston? The girlfriend? That doesn't make sense."

Stella shook her head. "Despite Weston's best efforts, he was outsmarted. Whether he followed one of them there or overheard their phone conversation, the girlfriend's husband shows up later and shoots Weston in the chest."

"So all we need to do is find out who Weston was seeing, and the case is solved."

"I know who Weston was seeing. So did Bunny; that's why she was killed."

"Who was it?"

"Betsy Brunelle. Bunny figured it out that night at Perkins."

Nick knitted his eyebrows together. "How? From what?"

"The ads. Not just one, but the combination of them: a woman waiting for someone to join her, the cowgirl, and the hunters, one of whom looked very much like a cowboy, the other dressed in similar clothes to Weston."

"I still don't see the connection between the cowboys and Betsy."

"Didn't you notice her screensaver at the office? A slideshow of beefy cowboys-all with beards."

"Oh yeah. I thought it was weird for a married woman to have that on her computer, especially when her husband was right in the office. But given who she was married to ..."

"Not only is Jake not very good looking, but he had been steadily losing business, whereas Weston was fairly wealthy. Remember, Betsy said her favorite pastime is shopping."

"And men. Don't forget the men. I know she didn't verbalize that, but she said it in other ways, and it substantiates your theory. My only question is, how would Bunny have seen that screensaver?"

Deep in thought, Stella lay back on the mattress. Several minutes elapsed before she spoke again. "Did Mills bring a newspaper with our coffee?"

"Yeah, it's on the front porch. Why?"

"I need to check something," she explained as she rose from the bed and ran out the front door with Nick in tow.

Retrieving the paper from its spot atop Alma's cooler, Stella perused a few lines and began to smile. "Here, look at that."

Nick took the publication from her hand and began to read out loud. "A sixty-two-year-old Windsor County woman was found dead in her home last night. Police report that Elizabeth 'Bunny' Randall died as a result of two bullet wounds to the chest." He looked up. "Elizabeth Randall?"

"That's right. The office clerk the Brunelles hired and subsequently fired."

"Betsy said she fired Bunny because of some rotten habit. Did she mean snooping or gossiping?"

"Probably both. Betsy might not like being in the office alone all day, but if she were having an affair with Weston, having a 'nosebag' like Bunny around was even worse. By the time she was fired, I'm sure Bunny was aware that Betsy was seeing someone. Perhaps she even suspected it was Weston, but it took that night at Perkins for her to suspect the affair and Weston's death might be linked."

"But why not say something to you or the police? Why rush out of the store the way she did?"

"She and Betsy were friends, remember? Even though Betsy had fired Bunny, there still had to be some sense of loyalty. Bunny wouldn't want to reveal the affair to me or accuse Jake of murder without talking to her friend first."

"But Jake had an alibi for Weston's murder, didn't he?"

"How airtight is that alibi? Brunelle works alone; if the home-owners were out at the time of the installation, he could have left the property at any time. Likewise, when there's no traffic-and there wasn't any on Thursday morning-it only takes fifteen minutes to cut across town."

"But how would Brunelle have known Bunny was on to him?"