Shameless (Made For Them #3)

2. Alibis

Lula

T ension is rippling through me to the point that I almost don’t notice being helped onto a small motorboat, like the one that I stole and crashed last night.

In the blink of an eye, we’re ushered inside an imposing white mansion and into a living room that still looks big despite the number of people in it.

“Come here, baby.”

I gratefully follow Crew to a three seater couch.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Crew scowls as Jules lowers himself on the free spot next to me.

“Shut up, James. This isn’t the time to settle our differences.”

I’m relieved when Crew nods. “You’re right. This is a fucking nightmare.”

“In more ways than one,” Jules agrees.

If they weren’t right about the shitty situation we’re all in, I would laugh at the fact that it took three gruesome murders to get Crew and Jules to agree on something.

I keep my eyes trained on Tiffany, my senses on high alert because if she’s here with Evan, chances are that her husband is here with them.

My fears are confirmed when the sheriff enters the room with Scott Larson, another middle aged man I don’t know, and Howard in tow.

The four men are discussing something but their voices aren’t loud enough to carry on amidst the chatter in the crowded living room.

“Darling!” Tiffany shoots up from her seat, an antique chair by the huge bay window that offers a breathtaking view of the blue sea glittering in the distance. “Are you ok?”

I snort, barely managing to hide an eye roll. Anyone who has met my mother could testify that Tiffany isn’t the caring type.

Unless you’re someone she wants to ingratiate with or the man who pays for her lavish lifestyle.

For as long as I can remember, Tiffany was never kind or caring with Dad. Her tune changed when she finally found the rich man who can provide the wealth and prestige she’s always been hungry for.

When she’s in Howard’s presence, Mom turns into a disconcerting blend between a love struck teenager and a 1950s housewife whose only purpose is to take care of her man.

Her husband offers her a curt nod. “I’m good. Are you ok, Tiffany?”

Tiff fans herself with her skinny hand, the light in the room catching the huge diamond ring on her finger. “I will be, thanks. The scene was…” her voice breaks as if she was trying to contain her tears. “Is Evan ok? Poor kid, his beautiful girlfriend?—”

Howard steps forward, wrapping a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders. “He’s understandably shaken. He and George are being supported by a grief counselor who came with the police.”

Tiffany nods, wiping a nonexistent tear at the corner of her eye. “Poor Evan. What a tragedy. He and Maura were so perfect together. Who would hurt such a lovely, well poised young woman?” Her voice goes up a few octaves, projecting around the room.

I agree with Tiffany that Maura was cool, but I wish she quit with the theatrics. If I have to believe what Evan told me last night, he and Maura hadn’t been seeing each other for that long.

“Yeah, Evan must be distraught. So much so that he would harass his stepsister, rather than celebrating his girlfriend’s birthday last night.” Jules whispers, as if reading my mind.

“What? Did your asshole stepbrother bother you?” Crew asks, lacing his fingers through mine. “Lula, why didn’t you say anything last night? I?—”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man who came into the room with Sheriff Pullin and Scott Larson steps forward, addressing all of us. “May I have your attention, please? My name is Alan Douglas. I’m the sheriff in Berry Point. The Twinberry Cove Islands fall under my direct jurisdiction, so I’ll be officially in charge of the investigation that will follow this morning’s events. Sheriff Pullin has kindly agreed to help me with the interviews we need to carry out before we can move forward and allow people to leave the islands. As you can imagine, we need to check everyone’s whereabouts during the hours of seven and eight this morning. The sooner we can confirm everyone’s location, the sooner you can all go back to your own homes. As far as we were able to establish, the people we want to hear from are the participants in this morning’s quail hunt, the staff on the island during that time and a few other individuals who were at the scene when Sheriff Pullin arrived. Everyone else, who was back here at the main house for breakfast has been already escorted back to Berry Point.”

The sheriff looks at Dad, his tone changing from practical to respectful. “Mr. Turner, let’s start with you. Mr. Andrews’s staff have made a couple of rooms available, so we can conduct the interviews in private.”

Dad nods, giving Arianna’s hand a squeeze before following the sheriff.

Sheriff Pullin looks at Tiffany. “Mrs. Turner-Johnston, would you mind following me?”

Tiffany looks at her husband. “Is that necessary, darling? I’m already so shaken. It’s obvious I didn’t do it. I was hoping I could just go to my room and change out of these dreadful hunting clothes.”

Howard ushers his wife toward the living room door, guiding her with a hand on the small of her back. “It won’t take long, Tiffany. I’ve already given my statement and Evan is doing that as we speak.”

A look passes between Howard and the sheriff. Sheriff Pullin is a local, born and bred in Star Cove, but the reverence on his eyes when he looks at my federal judge and senate candidate stepfather leaves no doubt about what kind of treatment Howard and Tiffany are going to get.

Howard’s immense prestige and important connections were as attractive as his wealth in the eyes of a social climber like my mom. She always called it the “VIP experience” or the “white glove service” and she was always jealous of Arianna’s wealth and connections.

I shake my head at the thought that justice doesn’t seem to have the same weight for everyone.

“You ok, Luls?” Jules’s dark blue eyes are fixed onto mine as he squeezes my hand.

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “I was just looking at Tiffany. Her husband isn’t even running for office and she already acts like the First Lady. Did you see her just now? She tried to imply that since she’s Howard’s wife, there was no need to interview her. And Howard basically said it’s just a formality.”

My stepbrother’s eyes are serious when he asks me the next question. “Yeah, I saw. But I mean, you don’t think they have anything to do with the murders?”

Do I?

“No,” I admit. “Knowing them, Howard would never get his own hands dirty, he’d hire a hit man if he wanted someone killed. And Tiffany would never use a shotgun. All that blood could ruin her designer clothes. She’d be more likely to use poison or push someone off a cliff.”

“Fuck,” Jules chuckles. “I’ve always loved your dark sense of humor, but you really put some thought into this.”

It’s sad, but true. “I honestly think Tiffany is capable of anything, no matter how horrible as long as it serves her agenda. The disgusting thing is that she thinks I’m like her. Did you hear her earlier? She basically said that if drugs are involved in any way, then I must have done it.”

What kind of mother would say that?

“The joke’s on her. You were with me all night, so if she says that again, I’ll set the record straight.”

I smile at him, fighting the urge to kiss him. If the room wasn’t full of people, I would. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. How are we going to explain what happened to Dad? He was clear that he expected me to stay away from you and Stefan.”

Jules strokes the spot between my thumb and my index finger in a soothing way. “Let me deal with it. They’re going to ask us where we were, so we should tell the truth. We’ll just say that you weren’t feeling well and left the party on a boat and I came to your rescue when I saw you getting in trouble because of the storm. We don’t need to lie about where we spent the night. We’ll just offer the CliffsNote version of it.”

I relax a little. “Good. That’ll shut Tiffany up. She’s always ready to believe the worst about me, but I didn’t hear her imply that Evan could have anything to do with the stable massacre.”

The thought hits me the second the words leave my mouth. What if Evan did it?

“Luls? Where did you go just now?”

I lower my voice. “I was just wondering if Evan could have something to do with it. He was dating Maura. What if she saw him follow me last night and confronted him about it?”

Jules looks skeptical. “I followed you, and Maura was nowhere near the docks. When I came after you, she was doing more shots and dancing by the bonfire. Besides, why would Evan want to kill Eddie and Trevor? As far as we know, he didn’t even know them.”

Jules is right, but wouldn’t it be perfect if Evan was the killer and he got a life sentence? That would keep him away from me for good. I don’t say any of that, but Jules is one of the people who knows me best and he guesses my train of thought.

“Lula, don’t worry about Evan. Hopefully he’s going back East as soon as the police has interviewed us all. But until we’re all around, I’ll make sure you’re never alone.”

Crew, who’s been listening to our conversation intervenes. “Me too, baby.”

To my surprise, rather than arguing with him, Jules nods. “See? He might be an annoying dumb ass, but James here can throw a few punches if needed.” He looks at Crew over my head. “You can also help me keep Stefan from committing murder. He hadn’t made the connection last night about who Evan was, but now that the cat is out of the bag, I’m worried he’s going to do something stupid.”

We look at Stefan, who’s deep in conversation with his mom and Tilly.

Jules is right.

If Stefan got his hands on Evan, the police would have another murder to deal with.

The living room door opens in that moment and silence descends into the room as a uniformed officer looks at all of us. “The sheriff would like to speak to Miss Talulah-Lynn Turner next and Mr. Crew James. If you wouldn’t mind following me?”

Jules squeezes my hand as I exhale a deep breath. “You’ve got this. We have nothing to hide, just tell the truth and we’ll be fine.”

Crew’s presence as we file behind the officer is comforting. We aren’t touching but he’s walking closely behind me and I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Jules is right.

I have nothing to worry about. This time I don’t need to take the fall for anyone.

Lula

When the police is involved, things are never as straightforward as anticipated.

The first sign that this isn’t going to be as easy as Jules made it sound, is when Sheriff Douglas asks me to take a seat.

I was secretly hoping that Sheriff Pullin would be the one who interviewed me. He has known me my whole life and seeing a friendly face would have been good for my frayed nerves.

I look at the room as I lower myself in the chair opposite the mahogany desk the sheriff is sitting at.

Dark wood panels cover the walls that aren’t lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves.

This looks similar to Dad’s study back home in New York, just bigger and way more luxurious.

Talking about my father, I’m surprised when I find him waiting in the room with Scott Larson.

“Dad?” I ask. “Is everything ok?”

He nods, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes stretching his lips. “Everything is fine, Lula. Since you’re on probation under my supervision, I asked to be present for your interview. Scott is here as our family attorney.”

What the actual fuck?

Why did he bring a lawyer? Does he think I have something to do with those dead bodies?

The thought hurts more than Tiffany’s dig earlier. I always expect Mommy Dearest to think the worst of me, but I thought Dad saw me under a different light. Even though we’ve been apart for three years, I thought Dad knew me much better than Tiffany ever will.

I guess I was wrong.

“Miss Turner,” the sheriff begins. “Can you confirm that your full name is Talulah-Lynn Turner, born on May eleventh in New York City, New York?”

I nod.

“Can you please answer my questions with a clear yes or no?”

I guess police interrogations are all the same, no matter the state you’re in. “Yes.” I answer. “That’s all correct.”

The Sheriff writes something down before setting his gaze on me. He’s a tall, slightly heavy set man with inquisitive brown eyes, probably around Dad’s age.

“Miss Turner, first of all can I ask you what brings you here?”

I play with the piercing in my tongue, scraping my teeth or the little metal ball. My fingers are itching to play with the little ring in my eyebrow, but I resist the urge. “Like my dad just said, I’m on probation, under his supervision. Dad and Mr. Andrews go way back and when he got an invitation to spend the weekend here, he thought it would be better to bring me along. You know, since the whole supervision thing.”

There’s a beat of silence before the sheriff continues. “That’s right. And your father called his old friend to get an invitation because two of his stepsons were involved in the big boat race organized by your host under the APB (American Powerboat Association) umbrella, is this correct?”

I nod, but catch myself before the sheriff can press me again and force out a “correct.”

“I didn’t realize the unusual family dynamics at play here until I spoke to Judge Johnston. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the good judge is your stepfather? The new Mrs. Turner is your stepmother and her sons’ biological father was one of the deceased, Mr. Branagh, owner of Star Thunders? But Mr. Branagh is also father to two other young men, Crew James, who was also one of the Star Thunders racers, and Frederick James who came here with the team under the direct supervision of another one of the deceased Trevor Braverman?”

“Correct.”

The sheriff scribbles something else in his notes. “So you have two sets of stepbrothers. The Cutler boys and Mr. Johnston’s son, Evan. Evan was dating the third deceased, Miss Maura Andrews. Did you have a chance to meet Miss Andrews before last night?”

I shake my head. “No. I hadn’t met Maura before last night. She was nice.” I stop myself before I can add that she was way too nice for Evan.

But then again, pretty much anyone would qualify as too nice for Evan.

“Did you like Miss Andrews? Would you say you two hit it off?”

I shrug. “Maura was friendly and fun. We danced, we did some shots and?—”

I stop talking when I realized the trap I just fell into. Even if I was of legal drinking age, the conditions of my probation stipulate that I have to be sober.

“Don’t worry, Miss Turner.” The sheriff says. “I’m not here to nitpick on the conditions of your probation. It’s safe to say that we have bigger worries at the moment. So walk me through your whereabouts last night and this morning.”

I stick to what Jules said and offer as much of the truth as I can without fessing up about why I left the party and what happened last night between me and Jules.

“Once the storm passed, Jules and I were looking for the hunting party. When we heard some shots, we rode toward the noise, thinking it was the quail hunt. But when we got to the stables, we realized what we had walked into.”

The sheriff sets his pen on the table, his shrewd gaze fixed on me. “So you and Mr. Cutler were the first to discover the bodies?”

The words leave my mouth before I can think better of it. “We weren’t. Rikki was the first to stumble into that mess. He found Trevor first and tried to help him. But the shooter was still there and chased him. He was terrified when we saw him.”

That catches the sheriff’s attention. “Interesting. And did you see the shooter or are you just repeating what Rikki told you?”

I explain that Jules and I didn’t see anyone at first. At least not anyone living.

“Did Rikki give you a description of the shooter?”

I think hard about Rikki’s words, I was so upset and shocked that I barely remember what he said. “I think he mentioned dark clothing. A hoodie maybe?”

The sheriff considers my words for a long moment. “Right, thank you. Can you say with absolute certainty that Mr. Cutler was with you all night? Or is it possible that he left you at any point?”

“Jules didn’t leave. He couldn’t have. The storm didn’t end until dawn and we were both cold and lost.”

Heat rises to my face at the memory of how Jules kept me warm.

I look away from the sheriff but the situation doesn’t improve when I meet Dad’s gaze.

To my relief, Dad doesn’t seem concerned with what company I had last night. “Are we done here? As you heard, my daughter wasn’t feeling well last night. She looks a little flushed, I’d like to make sure she isn’t running a fever since she was in the rain for a while.”

By the look on the sheriff’s face, I think my wellbeing isn’t his main concern right now.

“Almost done, Mr. Turner. The more thorough we are today, the least you’ll have to hear from us as we continue with our investigation.” He turns his attention back to me. “You’re well enough to answer a couple more questions, right Miss Turner?”

I nod and then I force myself to confirm verbally. “I’m ok.”

“Miss Turner, did either of your stepbrothers or one of the James brothers ever express anger toward their father?”

Is the sky blue? I bite my tongue and opt for a more diplomatic answer. “They had a lot of feelings toward Mr. Branagh and his return to Star Cove. They were trying to work things out. As it is, they all needed the job at Star Thunders.”

The corners of the sheriff’s mouth curl into a cunning smile. “Right. And Jules in particular never expressed feelings of violence toward his father for leaving him? For having a secret family for years?”

We have nothing to hide.

Jules’s words echo in my head and I shake my head. “No. He needed Eddie’s job. He was angry but he would never—Jules didn’t do it, he would never kill anyone. And he couldn’t have done it, he was with me all night.”

The sheriff’s eyes shine with interest. “Did you know that the murder weapon is an antique shotgun that was Jules’s property?”

I nod. “Yeah, his grandpa left it to him. But he lent it to my dad for the quail hunt—” I stop in my tracks, worried about this line of questioning.

“What were you going to say, Miss Turner? Jules lent the rifle to your father for the hunt, right?”

I look at Dad and I’m relieved when he nods, encouraging me to continue. “He did.”

“Did you see the rifle at all since the ferry took you to Twinberry Cove yesterday afternoon?”

I shake my head again. “No, but I don’t think Jules had it.”

Dad intervenes. “I already gave you my statement about how the rifle was missing from its case in my room this morning. The last time I checked it, it was last night before the party here at the main house. When I went to retrieve it this morning, the case was empty.”

The sheriff interrupts Dad. “I’m familiar with your version of the story, Mr. Turner. I’m just interested in Talulah’s perception of it.”

I answer the sheriff’s question. “No, I didn’t see the rifle at all. I haven’t seen it in years. Since Arianna’s Dad was still around.”

That was the information the sheriff must have been after, because he writes it down, repeating what I said verbatim.

“So if we check the weapon for fingerprints, you’d be confident that we won’t find yours? Or would that jog your memory that you did see it after all since you arrived?”

I know he’s baiting me, or at least he’s trying to but for once I’m telling the truth. “No, you wouldn’t find my fingerprints on that rifle, or on any of the rifles used for the hunt. I’m not a big fan of firearms.”

The sheriff writes down my latest answer. “And if I ask Mr. Cutler the same questions I just asked you, will he confirm your story? That you were together all night and this morning and that neither of you had the shotgun we found at the stables in their possession at any time during the last twenty-four hours?”

A noise comes from Scott Larson, who has been quietly observing the interview up until this point. “Sheriff Douglas, I see no need for this line of questioning. Lula has been nothing but cooperative and I’ve known her since she was in diapers. If she says she was with Jules all night, she was. And if she says neither of them had that shotgun, I see no reason to doubt her word. Her priors should have no bearing on this interview. I would also like to point out that her record was sealed due to her offense being committed when she was a minor. How did you obtain that information? This is highly irregular.”

Maybe the sheriff’s answer should surprise me, but it doesn’t. “I assure you Mr. Larson, I’m going to question every person who could be a potential person of interest in this case the same way I’m questioning Miss Turner. As for her record, I didn’t know until her stepfather informed me and mentioned the probation.”

Go figure. I have no clue who killed Eddie, Maura and Trevor, but if it was up to Howard and Tiffany, they would blame it on me without thinking twice.

My voice is firm as I look at the sheriff. “It’s ok, Mr. Larson. Jules will confirm everything, I’m telling you the truth.”

“Thank you Miss Turner, you’re dismissed for now. Can you please bring in Mr. Frederick James?” the sheriff asks the uniformed officer who escorted me here.

I leave the room followed by Dad and Scott Larson.

I brace myself for questions about where I was last night and what happened with Jules, but Dad clasps my shoulder instead.

“Are you ok, Lula?” There’s concern in his voice and worried lines around his mouth.

I nod and he squeezes my shoulder in a comforting way. My eyes fill with tears at the thought that this is the first time Dad has touched me since the stiff, uncomfortable hug we shared the day I arrived in Star Cove a few weeks ago.

Too many things have happened in our family and I don’t know if our relationship will ever recover from the mistakes we have both made along the way.

He was selfish and put his happiness before my safety, leaving me with Tiffany. But I made so many mistakes since my parents’ divorce that I know aren’t justified by trying to survive.

Before all that happened, I was a Daddy’s girl through and through and I miss Dad’s frequent hugs, our quiet companionship.

I got my love for reading from Dad and one of my favorite memories is reading the paper together on a Sunday morning, or doing my homework in his study with the excuse that I needed help.

“Stay with Jules if you can,” he whispers. “You’re sure he was with you all night?”

Here it is. He’s going to be suspicious and upset about me being alone with one of my stepbrothers. “Yeah.”

He nods. “Then stick with him or Arianna and Tilly. They were with me the entire time during the hunt. Don’t trust anyone else, the person who killed those three people is still in this house.”

I open my mouth to say that I don’t think that Stefan and Crew would ever hurt anyone, nor Rikki, but Dad turns to talk to the twins’ father.

“Scott, can you make sure that you’re present for all of our interviews? I need to find my ex-wife’s new husband.”

Mr. Larson stops him by grabbing his forearm. “Tom, are you sure that’s a good idea? I would take your own advice to your daughter and?—”

“I think it’s high time that Howard and I have a conversation about the kind of care he’s been taking of my daughter. Did you hear the sheriff? He practically pointed his finger at Lula. She barely knew any of the victims. This is unacceptable and as Lula’s father, I?—”

Scott Larson urges him to reconsider. “Tom, antagonizing someone with Johnston’s influence isn’t a good idea. As your attorney, I?—”

He stops talking when a crying Rikki is escorted into the interview room.

“Maybe you should go and listen into that interview too,” Dad suggests when he spots the dried blood on Rikki’s shirt.

The lawyer shakes his head. “We don’t know how this situation will shape up. I think I should stick to representing your immediate family, in case of a conflict of interest.”

Is he saying that he thinks Rikki killed those three people?

It’s hard to believe that, Rikki has always been so sweet.

Then I remember how desperate he was, to the point that he offered sexual favors to me and Stefan in exchange for our help scoring his next fix. If knowing that Stefan was his half brother didn’t stop him from offering sex, where would Rikki stop?