The Branson Beauty (6 page)

“Because she was in love, Bill.” She turned to Hank. “Was Ryan in town, too?”

“I believe so, ma'am. I have not talked with him, yet. Is there anything you think I should know before I do?”

Mrs. Bryson thought for a minute. As she started to speak, her husband seemed to finally connect everything Hank had said so far.

“What do you mean, ‘anything you think I should know'? Is he a suspect? Do you have suspects? Do you know who did it? Who did this? Who would…”

Hank put his hands up in front of him to stop the torrent of questions. He decided the generic answer was the best he could do at the moment.

“Right now, we do not know who killed her, and we do not have any suspects. Anything you can tell me would be helpful.”

The Brysons looked at each other. Mrs. Bryson took several short, quick breaths before she seemed to acquire enough oxygen to speak. She gave Hank the names of Mandy's friends who were still in town, and tried to sketch out her daughter's new college life as best she could. She was only the mom, she didn't know everything, and she knew it. Her pain seemed an almost physical presence in the room. Hank carefully wrote it all down. He did not want to have to ask her again.

Mr. Bryson left his wife drowning on the couch and walked Hank to the door. Once they were in the entryway and out of her sight, he grabbed Hank's arm. His hand was shaking. “How, Sheriff … how did it happen?” The last word was a whisper.

Hank spent a long time exhaling through his stuffy nose. Sometimes he hated this job. He made himself look Bill Bryson straight in the eye. “It appears that she was strangled.”

Bill slumped against the wall. “Was she … was she…”

Hank saved them both from hearing the words.

“No, sir, there's no indication of that,” he said. Just in case … “But we won't know for sure until the doctor does an autopsy.”

Mr. Bryson nodded. “You'll keep us … keep us updated? If you find anything out?”

Hank nodded. He gently removed Mr. Bryson's hand from his arm and shook it. He walked out onto the porch and left him silhouetted in the doorway, nothing now but a shadow with all the light behind him.

 

CHAPTER

5

Hank pulled up to the house of Ryan the Boyfriend. The lots in this newer neighborhood were small and overwhelmed by the houses, hulking collections of brick and windows that all looked the same. He double-checked the house number. The driveway had a few tire tracks but was otherwise unplowed, so he chose a street spot around the corner that was mostly clear of snow. He waded through the growing drifts on the front walk. It was very late by now, but this time, he did not feel the least bit sorry about disturbing the occupants. Ryan the Boyfriend had some explaining to do.

He banged on the door and waited. Two more poundings finally brought an answer. It was a middle-aged blond woman he recognized from the observation lounge. She had obviously been asleep. Hank introduced himself. He needed to talk to both her and her son.

“He's asleep,” she snapped. “Why on earth do you need to talk to him at this hour? We've had a very trying day. As you well know, Sheriff. Surely anything you need to know about our ordeal on that boat can wait until tomorrow.”

Hank's eyes narrowed. “I am not here about your ordeal, ma'am. I am here about Mandy Bryson.”

“Mandy? What has she got to do with anything? She was dating my son, but…” Ryan's mother trailed off, her eyes still bleary with sleep. She waved her hand in the air vaguely as if to dismiss the subject. Her use of the past tense had not gone unnoticed.

“May I come in, ma'am.” It was not a question.

Ryan's mother scowled at him. “I don't see why that's necessary at this hour.”

If she wasn't going to be nice, then neither was he. He drew himself out of the hunch he'd folded himself into underneath his parka and raised up to his full height.

“Mandy Bryson was found dead on the
Branson Beauty
this evening. In the private dining room reserved by your family. This is a homicide investigation, and I'm going to ask you once again—may I come in?”

Michelle Nelson stared at him, her mouth wide open. The look did not change as she slowly moved aside so he could enter the echoing foyer. They stood there staring at each other until she gave a start and turned toward the nearest doorway. It led to a formal dining room with ceiling-to-floor windows and a long table that reminded Hank of the one on the boat. She didn't bother to turn on a light, just sank into a chair and stared up at him. He helped himself to a seat away from the wall of windows, which let in slanted beams from the outside streetlamps, and sat down.

“Why were you and your family on the boat today, ma'am?” he asked.

“It was my mother's birthday luncheon. She turned seventy-five a few days ago. We rented the private dining room.”

“And who was in attendance?”

“Mother. Me. Several of her friends. Bridge club, the church prayer group—I don't know. My brother, Jeffrey, and his wife, Patricia. Ashley—their daughter. Ryan. He's home from St. Louis. With Kelly.”

She ended her list and just sat there, staring limply at him.

“And who is Kelly?” he prompted.

“Oh. Yes, ah. She's the girl he's seeing. They came down from school together for the holiday weekend.”

“He wasn't seeing Mandy anymore?”

“Well, no.” She cleared her throat. “That's what makes this a bit awkward. They had broken up, you see. I can't imagine what she was doing on the boat.”

“Did you know she was on the boat today?”

“Heavens, no. I never saw her. I had no idea.”

Hank sat back and gazed out the windows at the falling snow.

“When did you find out that this Kelly was coming down with your son?”

Michelle Nelson thought for a moment. “It must have been when he called last week to confirm that he could make it to Mother's party. He said he was bringing her. Yes, that was when.”

“And had he mentioned Kelly before that?”

Michelle pursed her lips. “No, actually. I don't think so. He said he was bringing her, and that he and Mandy had broken up.”

“And how did you feel about that?”

“How did I—? I don't understand.”

This woman was starting to make his head hurt.

“How did you feel about your son breaking up with his girlfriend?” Hank said slowly.

“Well, it really wasn't any of my business, was it? He's a big boy. He does what he thinks is best.”

Let's try this from a different direction, he thought.

“Did you like Mandy?”

“Yes.” That was it. She stared at him some more. He needed an aspirin.

“How long had you known her?”

“Forever, I suppose. They'd always gone to school together.”

“When did they start dating?”

“Hmmm. I think at the beginning of senior year. I know they were going together by homecoming. She was up for homecoming queen. I remember that. She didn't get it. Ryan was very disappointed.”

Hank suppressed a sigh.

“Did they see each other over Christmas break?”

Michelle pursed her lips again. It was not that long ago. How hard could it be to remember?

“Yes. I think he had dinner over at her parents' house. He went somewhere all dressed up, too. Maybe that was New Year's. Yes, yes, they did go out on New Year's Eve.”

“Do you know where?”

She shrugged. “No. I don't remember.”

Maybe her short-term memory was better.

“Today, ma'am, on the boat. Did your luncheon start off in the dining room?”

“Oh.” She blinked several times at the switch in topics. “Ah, yes. We were in the dining room until the ship ran aground. We had just finished the food.”

“Then what happened?”

“We all went out into the corridor to try to see better what was going on. What kind of idiot steers a ship into the rocks?”

Hank had to give her that one. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the shiny table.

“What did you do then?”

“They were clearing the dining room, so we went into the observation lounge. We just stayed there. There was no point going anywhere else.”

“Did everyone stay in the lounge the whole time?”

“Well, yes, I just said that.”

Hank took a deep breath. “Did anyone leave the room at any point, ma'am? To go back to the dining room, perhaps? Or take a walk?”

“Oh. I see. I don't know. People did leave, to use the restroom, I suppose.”

“Did you?”

She glared at him. “We were on that boat for more than eight hours. Yes, I used the restroom. No, I did not keep track of whether other people did. I am not a hall monitor.”

That was quite obvious.

“Was the restroom the only place you went?” Hank asked. “Did you go back into the dining room? Or to another deck?”

“No, I didn't go back to the dining room. It looked like they shut it down. All the shades were drawn. And why would I want to go downstairs? The main room was packed with people.” She gave a little shudder. “At least the lounge was comfortable and only had us in it.”

“And did you at any point see Mandy?”

“No. I told you that.”

“Did you hear anyone talk about her?”

“No. Her name did not come up.”

Hank sighed. A conversation about Mandy could have occurred two feet away from this lady and she would not have noticed. He was forming his next question when he saw a car slowly grind through the snow on the street outside. The headlight beams sliced through the windows as it turned and pulled into the driveway, barely making it over the drifts before it came to a stop. Both he and Mrs. Nelson stared as a jacketed figure got out and plowed to the door.

“What the hell is he doing?” she said as she got to her feet. She strode to the front door and jerked it open. Fumbling for his keys on the other side stood Ryan the Boyfriend.

He jumped back and almost toppled into a snow-covered shrub.

“Mom! Jesus! What are you doing? Why are you up?”

“Why are you out there?” she snapped back. “I thought you were in bed.”

“I went for a drive,” Ryan said. “I couldn't sleep.”

He stepped into the foyer and flung the door shut behind him. Then he saw Hank. His keys slipped from his hand and clattered across the tile floor. Hank didn't say a word, just stood there in the shadows of the massive foyer with his arms folded across his chest.

Ryan swallowed. “New boyfriend, Mom?” he said with a weak grin.

“This is the sheriff, you idiot,” she said. Apparently, her brain only fully turned on when she was pissed. “He's here because Mandy's dead. And he wants to talk to you.”

Ryan froze in the act of bending toward his keys.

“Mandy? What? Mandy? Dead? Mandy's dead?”

Hank watched very closely. He didn't feel it necessary to jump into the conversation quite yet.

“Did you know she was on the boat? DID YOU?” Michelle Nelson's demand rang through the foyer. Hank thought he heard the chandelier rattle. He didn't look up, however, instead keeping his eyes on young Ryan's face. The shock on it—just for an instant—changed to hostility as he stared at his mother. Then it was gone and the nice, Polo-shirted, hair-gelled college boy was back. He patted an errant strand back into place, picked up his keys, and straightened. It was just enough time to gather his thoughts.

“She … she was on the boat? Today? Was that where she was…” He trailed off.

“Did. You. Know.” Mrs. Nelson spat the words at him. The animosity flickered across his face again.

“No. No! Happy?” he shouted. “I didn't know. Why the hell should I?”

“Because she was your girlfriend, for Chrissakes,” she shouted back.

The two glared at each other as the echoes subsided. Perhaps Mrs. Nelson was more fond of Mandy than she admitted earlier, Hank thought. The foyer fell into silence. He waited. Certainly, the young lady at the top of the stairs would have something to say about all this.

“Your
girlfriend
was on the boat?” she hissed.

Ryan and his mother jerked around, their heads swiveling up toward the second floor, where one of the pretty blond teenagers from the observation lounge was standing. She was wearing nothing but a St. Louis University T-shirt and a look of very angry surprise. Hank considered pulling a chair out of the dining room and making himself comfortable. That might disrupt the flow of things, though. He did not want to interrupt.

“You have a girlfriend?” she said from above.

Ryan spread his arms wide. “Baby, no. Of course not. We broke up. It was over. It—” He stopped himself and had the decency to wince at that. She seized on the silence.

“What's she doing here? Are you going to see her? What does she mean to you?”

All very good questions, Hank thought. He was going to make sure Ryan answered them one way or another. But the blond replacement had obviously not emerged from her room in time to hear that Mandy was dead. He glanced at Mrs. Nelson. Her jaw clenched.

“Ryan's
ex
-girlfriend is dead. She was murdered on the boat. Today,” Mrs. Nelson said as she craned her neck to look up at the blonde. The anger drained out of her face, leaving only surprise.

“My God. That's … that's horrible.” She stepped back from the railing and started to turn back into the upstairs hallway. “Now I'm really sorry I came,” she muttered.

Hank had no intention of letting her go back to her room and her cell phone so she could start texting everyone she knew to complain about her terrible weekend. He cleared his throat. All three froze. Then they turned as one to stare at him, still standing in the shadows.

“Kelly?” he said. “Miss, if you would stay right where you are. I'm going to need to ask you some questions. You, too, Ryan.”