Yule Log Murder Page 12

  “Ouch. That hurt.”

  “The truth always does.”

  Hayley saw a pair of headlights turning into the driveway.

  Her stomach did a flip-flop.

  She was suddenly nervous.

  “They’re here, Danny. I have to go.”

  “Give our girl a kiss for me, will ya?”

  “Sure thing. And tell Dustin I love him and miss him and can’t wait for him to come home.”

  “You’ve always been such a softie. Bye, babe.”

  * * *

  Hayley ended the call and placed her cell phone down on the kitchen counter. She quickly checked herself out in the mirror hanging in the hallway next to the staircase. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, but there was little she could do about that now.

  She took a deep breath.

  Hayley heard footsteps on the front porch and then the door opened with a whoosh and Gemma burst in, her arms flung open for a hug.

  “Merry Christmas, Mom!”

  Gemma looked radiant. Fresh-faced and glowing, her hair beautifully coiffed and styled, she was dressed to the nines in a stylish Kate Spade quilted winter coat.

  Hayley held her tight for a moment, and then as she stepped back to get another look at her daughter, she felt as if she might start crying again.

  “Wow, look at you! New York suits you,” Hayley said, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Oh, God, Mom, don’t cry!”

  “I’m just so happy to see you . . . ,” Hayley said, sniffling.

  When did she become so mushy and overly emotional?

  She could only guess it had something to do with the empty-nest syndrome, now that both her kids were growing up and spending less and less time at home.

  “Mom, I want you to meet Conner.”

  Gemma moved aside to reveal a strikingly good-looking young man, a few inches taller than Gemma, perfectly put together, wearing a very fashionable-looking black Burberry coat. He extended a hand and offered Hayley a warm smile.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Powell.”

  His voice was deep and resonating.

  “Please call me Hayley. And it’s great to finally meet you too, Conner.”

  They shook hands.

  “Is this your first time in Maine?” Hayley asked.

  “No, I went to Indian Acres summer camp when I was twelve in Fryeburg.”

  “Maine in the summer is a whole lot different than Maine in the winter,” Gemma groaned. “During the summer season, there are something like sixty restaurants to choose from in Bar Harbor, but in the winter, we have something like two.”

  Conner laughed. “Well, I’m just happy to be here.”

  There was more small talk.

  Hayley made hot chocolate and they sat in the living room, and Conner complimented the Christmas decorations around the house and talked about how scary the bumpy flight from LaGuardia had been. Gemma stared at him, googly-eyed, as if he was the most wonderful man in the world, saying the most important and interesting things.

  She was clearly smitten.

  Meanwhile, Hayley silently sized him up as he talked about how much he admired Gemma and her decision to try and make it in New York, and how he had never met a girl with such a kind heart.

  He struck every note perfectly.

  There wasn’t a red flag to be found.

  He was even shy about discussing his acting career, explaining he was primarily a stage actor with a few obscure, but well-reviewed, Off-Broadway credits. Gemma had to drag out of him that he had appeared in a Shakespeare in the Park production of The Merry Wives of Windsor the previous summer, which was indeed impressive in Hayley’s opinion.

  Conner was not the vain, self-absorbed, chatty, shady character she had expected to meet.

  On the surface, he appeared friendly, engaged, and very fond of Gemma.

  There appeared to be absolutely nothing wrong with him.

  So why did Hayley have the nagging feeling that there was something off about him?

  There was no clear evidence.

  Maybe she was just guilty of being the typical overprotective mother.

  And yet, deep down, she just didn’t trust this guy.

  Chapter Two

  “Ionce thought about pursuing acting as a career,” Bruce Linney said as he lathered his blueberry pancakes with a healthy dose of maple syrup.

  “Oh, brother, here we go,” Hayley sighed, having heard this laborious tale more than once.

  “I won Best Supporting Actor at the Maine State Drama Festival for my riveting performance in the musical Godspell,” Bruce boasted proudly.

  “It was rigged!” Hayley cried. “Bruce’s father was a dentist, and two of the judges just happened to be his patients, and as I recall, your dad promised a big discount on new molars if they voted for you!” Hayley said, sipping her coffee.

  Gemma and Conner were seated across from Hayley and Bruce in a booth at Jordan’s Restaurant. The popular breakfast hot spot was one of the few eateries in town to stay open year-round, except for the month of February when the owners flew south to shake off the winter blues.

  “Come on, Hayley, I deserved that award!” Bruce said before popping a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, maple syrup dripping down his chin.

  Hayley mouthed silently, “No, he didn’t!”

  Conner smiled, shaking his head, and Gemma giggled.

  “I actually won Best Actor at the National College Drama Awards my senior year for playing McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”

  “When was that?” Hayley casually asked.

  “It was 2014,” Conner replied, winking at Gemma, who sat next to him, her eyes fixed on his handsome face, utterly enchanted by him.

  Hayley’s mind worked overtime.

  Two thousand fourteen?

  That would make Conner roughly twenty-five or twenty-six years old.

  He was older than Gemma by about five years.

  Certainly not an unreasonable age difference.

  But it still rubbed her the wrong way.

  Hayley hated herself for trying to find things wrong with this otherwise personable, friendly, ambitious young man.

  “Why didn’t you become an actor, Mr. Linney?” Conner asked.

  “Call me Bruce, please. I don’t know. Writing turned out to be more my thing. I used to watch a lot of cop shows when I was a kid and so I just sort of fell into crime reporting during college. But who knows? Maybe I’ll get back into the whole acting game someday.”

  Hayley nearly spit out her coffee at that one.

  Bruce shot her a sideways glance. “You know, we are technically dating now, so part of your job as my girlfriend is being supportive.”

  “You’re right, Bruce. You should definitely follow your dream and become an actor. Ryan Gosling won’t know what hit him!”

  Bruce leaned in and bumped Hayley’s shoulder with his own. “She loves to tease me.”

  “I can see that. You two make a nice couple,” Conner said.

  Hayley and Bruce hadn’t been dating all that long. In fact, Hayley still woke up in the morning every now and then asking herself, Is it true I’m actually dating Bruce Linney of all people?

  They had never been particularly close working together at the Island Times newspaper. They shared a brief history of once dating in high school, but Hayley hardly remembered any significant or lasting chemistry or attraction. It was only a few months ago, while working closely together, that she was suddenly struck, like by a lightning bolt, with a previously unthinkable thought—Bruce Linney was cute. And after a surprise kiss, which lasted longer than either of them had ever expected, they soon just fell into a relaxed, comfortable, slow-budding romance. A dinner here, a sporting event there, then eventually a romantic candlelight dinner for two at a quiet, out-of-the-way restaurant, and pretty soon she was cooking for him at her home. Now they were . . . Well, it was so hard to think about, let alone say it, but what the hell, now they were officially
dating.

  “You two make an adorable couple yourselves,” Bruce said, returning the compliment.

  Hayley kicked him under the table.

  Bruce barely reacted, suppressing a wince as the pain from Hayley’s shoe shot through his foot.

  Hayley wanted Bruce to meet Conner in order to gauge his reaction to the young man from New York courting Gemma. She herself had severe reservations, even though she had only known him twelve hours, so she invited Bruce to join them for breakfast in order to get an unvarnished second opinion.

  As it stood, he was definitely leaning toward Team Conner.

  In fact, he appeared as if they were actually bonding.

  Hayley could tell Gemma was loving every minute of it.

  The more people who approved of her new beau was a good thing.

  “How are your pancakes, Conner?” Hayley asked.

  “Delicious, thank you,” he said politely.

  That was the moment Gemma picked up a crisp, almost burnt, piece of bacon and crunched on it before loudly announcing to the whole table, “Conner and I are moving in together.”

  Hayley dropped her fork and it bounced up off the table and clattered to the floor. The heavyset waitress, passing by, bent over and scooped it up, saying, “I’ll get you a new one, Hayley!”

  And then she was gone.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” Hayley asked.

  “She’s getting you a new fork,” Bruce offered.

  “I heard that, Bruce! I’m talking about what Gemma just said!”

  “Oh . . . ,” Bruce said quietly, realizing it was probably best to ease himself out of the conversation for his own sake.

  “I said Conner and I are moving in—”

  “I heard you!”

  “Then why did you ask?” Gemma said, bracing for a fight.

  Hayley felt sandbagged.

  This bombshell was carefully planned.

  Gemma clearly didn’t want to break this news in the privacy of Hayley’s home, because her mother would feel free to yell and overreact, so she covertly plotted and waited patiently until they were in a loud public setting before dropping the bomb.

  It was a genius move.

  Because as upset as Hayley was, she instinctively felt compelled to keep her voice down to an urgent whisper. “When did this happen?”

  “Just a few days ago. Conner found a great deal on an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen . . .”

  “As great a deal as you can get in New York. It’s still staggeringly expensive! I mean, seriously, for one month’s rent, they’ll probably want our firstborn,” he said, chuckling.

  Hayley glared at him and his jocular chuckling ceased immediately.

  “That was a really bad analogy. I didn’t mean to imply Gemma and I are thinking about having children, because we’re not. No way. It’s just an expression.”

  Hayley ignored him and looked at Gemma. “Don’t you think this is moving a little too fast?”

  “No, Mother, I don’t. It’s not like we’re getting married. We’re just going to be sharing an apartment,” Gemma said defensively, popping the rest of the half-eaten piece of bacon into her mouth.

  “What about your lease in Astoria?” Bruce asked.

  “I can get out of that easily. My roommate, Athena, drives me nuts with her constant complaining and insomnia and rigid rules, and frankly she’s no big fan of mine anyway. She was thrilled when I told her I’m moving out, and she’s already found another girl to replace me. It worked out perfectly.”

  Hayley turned to Bruce for some support, but he just shrugged helplessly. “She’s twenty years old, Hayley.”

  Not helpful.

  Not helpful at all.

  He knew Hayley wasn’t happy with him for that last comment, so he decided to just focus on eating the rest of his blueberry pancakes.

  “It’s a practical decision, Mrs. Powell,” Conner said, leaning forward toward Hayley as he slid an arm around Gemma’s shoulders, almost possessively in Hayley’s opinion, though she suspected at the moment she might not be at her most objective.

  “How is it practical?” Hayley asked.

  “New York rents are ridiculously high for one person, so at least with two of us, we can take some of the burden off the other,” Conner said calmly.

  “How many bedrooms?” Hayley was quick to add.

  “It’s a studio,” Gemma said softly, reaching for a glass of orange juice.

  The waitress sailed by, dropping a clean fork off in front of Hayley and kept going.

  “With a Murphy bed,” Conner said. “The kind that comes down out of the wall?”

  “I know what a Murphy bed is,” Hayley said, trying to keep her voice even and emotionless.

  So they would be sharing a bed.

  In one room.

  “It’s a fifth-floor walk-up, so at least I’ll get some exercise, since I haven’t had time to join a gym lately,” Gemma blurted out.

  There was a lull in the conversation.

  Bruce was still stinging from the rebuke he got from reminding Hayley that Gemma was a legal adult. With his eyes downcast, he began gnawing on his own piece of crispy, burnt bacon.

  Hayley took a deep breath.

  As much as she resented Bruce for pointing out the obvious, she knew he was right.

  Gemma was no longer a child.

  Maybe it was time to let go.

  She was just about to call a truce, and offer the young couple her support—however tepid it was—when Conner revealed his true self.

  At least in Hayley’s mind.

  With a smug, smarmy smile, he added, “Besides, Gemma is a grown woman and can make her own decisions. It’s not like you can stop her.”

  Hayley bristled.

  Even Gemma was taken aback by the offhanded comment.

  No one spoke for a full ten seconds.

  Only Bruce managed to break the uncomfortable silence at the table by chewing loudly on his bacon.

  Hayley had tried to give Conner the benefit of the doubt, but now it was official.

  She not only didn’t trust the guy, now she also didn’t like him either.

  Not one bit.

  Chapter Three

  Hayley’s tree-trimming gathering at her house that evening was a quiet affair because the last thing Hayley wanted to do was give the impression she was competing with her BFF Liddy’s far-more-elaborate annual Christmas party that was to be held the following evening. In fact, Hayley had purposefully used the word “gathering” because she didn’t want to even utter the word “party.” With Liddy too crazed and overwhelmed with her own party preparations to attend, that left Bruce; Hayley’s brother, Randy; his husband, Police Chief Sergio Alvares; Hayley’s other BFF, Mona Barnes; and, of course, Gemma and her new beau, Conner. All were crowded into her small kitchen, sipping spiked eggnog and watching as Hayley pulled a tray of piping-hot gourmet pigs in the blanket, or, in layman’s terms, sausage in a puff pastry, out of her oven.

  She had barely managed to set the metal tray on top of her stove, when she was instantly surrounded by her guests, all of them reaching in at once to grab one.

  “Watch it, they’re hot!” Hayley warned.

  But no one listened, and Mona, who had plucked one from the tray with her chubby fingers, found herself suddenly tossing it around like she was juggling a ball of fire. She quickly popped it in her mouth to give her burning hands some relief. Unfortunately, she forgot to take into account that the appetizer would still be hot in her mouth and suddenly she was racing for the sink to spit out the food. She cranked the faucet on, and then lowered her mouth into the stream of tap water, gulping it down as if she had been lost in the Sahara for a week, dying of thirst.

  Hayley grabbed some paper plates and quickly handed them out so everyone had something to hold their pigs in a blanket with, instead of their burning fingers.

  “Hayley, you could have warned us!” Mona bellowed.

  “You’re right, Mona. How silly of me to assume
you might not realize that when a hot appetizer comes directly out of an oven that’s been heated to three hundred and fifty degrees, it might be a little more than warm. And when I actually said the words ‘Watch it, they’re hot,’ was I speaking in a foreign tongue? Was it French, German, Spanish?”

  “All right, don’t get cute,” Mona growled.

  Mona gingerly poked at another one, making sure it had cooled down, before taking a tiny bite and chewing on it. “I have to admit, though, they’re not half bad.”

  “Thank you. That’s a rave coming from you,” Hayley said, chuckling. “Be sure to write a Yelp review.”

  “Mrs. Powell, Gemma said you were talented in the kitchen, but I had no idea . . .”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, Conner,” Hayley said, smiling.

  The young man could be a charmer, that was for certain, but that didn’t mean she had to like him.

  Randy, however, was sold on Conner from the moment he met him.

  Unlike Bruce, who had only dabbled in acting during high school, Randy had studied at the Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York for a brief time before his enthusiasm and determination flamed out. After a few years, he moved back to Maine and kicked around for a while, before opening his bar, Drinks Like A Fish. So when Randy met the handsome young actor, he felt an instant connection. It also didn’t hurt that Conner was undisputedly good-looking. Randy could be a shameless flirt. Luckily, his other half, Sergio, was not the jealous type, despite his fiery Brazilian heritage. Sergio allowed Randy to have fun, bantering and teasing, just so long as at the end of the evening they left the party together as a married couple.

  “So tell me more about your work, Conner,” Randy said, beaming from ear to ear at Gemma, signaling to her that he definitely approved of her choice in a boyfriend.

  Conner shrugged shyly. “I’m a stage actor at heart. Nothing fires me up like a live audience, hanging on your every word, your every movement, completely forgetting they’re in a darkened theater because they are so purely in that moment with you.”

  Mona coughed, unimpressed.

  Randy stared at Conner, mesmerized.

  “That whole theater world is not for me. I would be too afraid I would forget the lines and look like a fool in front of all those people who paid so much money to come see the play,” Sergio said in his thick accent, shaking his head.