We walked to my car, an ancient Jeep Wrangler that had been brought back to life after I rolled it into a ditch last summer. We climbed in, buckled up, and bounced our way down the dirt path out of the woods.
The vehicle was eerily silent. Diana tended to shut down when she was nervous, a trait I appreciated at this moment. There was no need for speculation without substance. I’d had enough of that growing up to last the rest of my life. But I knew she had to be wondering whether Vi was right, crazy as it sounded. Once we hit pavement, I broke the silence.
“Diana, this is probably routine. They just need some more information about Rafe,” I said.
She nodded and stared at the passing wooded terrain.
“Just answer the questions as honestly as you can,” I said. “I’ll stay with you.” I reached over and squeezed her hand.
“What if your mom and Vi are right?” Diana blurted as she turned in her seat to look at me. “Who would kill Rafe? And why do the police think I would know anything about that?”
I was wondering the same thing.
“Let’s just wait and see what’s going on,” I said. “You know Tom loves the dramatic moment. He’s probably just trying to make it look like a bigger deal than it is.”
Diana gave me a small smile. I knew she didn’t believe the reassurances, but she appreciated the attempt.
We parked near the station and sat for a moment before getting out. Diana took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and nodded at me. I took my own calming breath and opened the door.
Tom met us in the lobby and walked us past Lisa Harkness. She was the receptionist and self-appointed news distributor. Her mouth hung open as she reached for her cell phone. Tom showed us to a small interview room and left. Diana and I exchanged glances. We didn’t wait long.
When the door opened again, Mac stood there. With his six feet and a couple of inches he filled the doorway. He kept his blond hair cropped short, and whether he was in his uniform or jeans, he radiated authority. His size and gruff manner fooled most people, but I knew the lines near his mouth were from an easy smile. And that the sparkle in his eyes was more often from laughter than anger.
I felt a warm flush at the sight of him. Last summer, we’d rekindled a relationship that had ended too soon, but we were keeping it to ourselves for now. In public we were all business. Especially since my family was not known for minding their own, and would likely begin planning the wedding if they knew we were back together. Mac was determined to give us every possible chance of doing things right this time. Between my family duties, his job, and Diana’s festival, we’d had a rocky start to our reignited romance. It seemed the Fates were conspiring against us. I’d been looking forward to an evening alone with him. The look on his face wiped away any thoughts of a romantic interlude in the near future.
After I gained control of my smile and donned a more suitable expression of outrage that Diana had been brought to the police station, my heart sank at the realization that Vi must be right. Rafe had been murdered.
Mac worked in the county sheriff’s office as a homicide detective. He wouldn’t be here in Crystal Haven unless there was suspicion of murder.
“Why am I not surprised?” Mac said. “Of course you two were there when Rafe Godwin died.” Mac dropped a file onto the table and crossed his arms. He had perfected the intimidation stance. And his blue eyes could become a steely gray when he was angry.
Intimidation didn’t work on me. But Diana squeezed my hand again.
“Mac, what’s this about?” I said. “Why did Tom drag Diana in here?”
He sat in one of the chairs and gestured that we should do the same. He dropped the tough-cop ploy and rested his elbows on the table.
“Diana, did you know that Rafe was allergic to peanuts?”
“Of course.” Diana nodded. “Lots of people knew that.”
“Someone has come forward claiming that they tasted peanuts in the”—Mac looked at the file in front of him—“‘bambrack’ bread.”
Diana and I looked at each other.
She shook her head. “No. I made it myself. I knew Rafe was allergic and the recipe doesn’t call for nuts, anyway.”
“What is bambrack bread?” Mac asked.
“It’s a traditional Celtic bread made with fruit soaked in tea,” Diana told him. “I thought it would be a fun thing to do this year for the ceremony. My mother used to make it every Halloween.”
“So, there weren’t any nuts in any of the food you served?” Mac said.
“That’s right. I made everything myself. I don’t know how he would have been exposed to peanuts. Plus, if it was an allergic reaction, the EpiPen should have bought us some time.”
“Yeah, we’re looking into that as well,” Mac said. He rubbed his forehead.