Hannah looked hopeful. “Can I sit in on the interview?”
Cooper hesitated and then shook his head. “It’s just going to be the two of us to start. We would have to explain your presence. That’s probably going to be difficult in this particular situation.”
Hannah wanted to argue, but she knew better. “Okay. I guess I should get back inside. I need to keep the remaining psychics happy, right? They’re my only shot for salvaging this event.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Cooper whispered, pressing her tight against his chest. “Don’t make yourself sick over this. Everything is going to work out.”
Hannah wanted him to be right, but her gut told her that was a pipe dream.
MELANIE SANDERS WAS SO PALE Boone was convinced she would disappear at some point during their interview. She sat, ramrod straight, in a wooden chair and answered each question posed to her. She appeared to be in another world, though, and the sheriff wasn’t convinced she actually absorbed any of the information he provided.
“You’ll have to excuse Mel,” Carrie Holden, Velma’s assistant, offered as she patted Melanie’s knee. “She’s obviously in shock. Maybe you could address the questions to me for now, and if I don’t know the answer then ... .” She broke off, casting her former employer’s daughter a sidelong look. “This is obviously too much for her.”
Boone was sympathetic — at least to a point — and he nodded. Eventually, no matter what, he would have to talk to Melanie about her mother. For now, he needed the basics if he expected to move forward, so that’s what he focused on. “Were you aware of Velma having any enemies?”
Carrie pursed her lips, glanced at Melanie, and shook her head. “She wasn’t an easy woman. I don’t say that to be a horrible person or anything, or to speak ill of the dead, but she made enemies everywhere she went.”
Boone was officially intrigued. “How so?”
“Well ... .” Carrie wet her lips and looked at Melanie again. “I don’t want to sound dramatic or evil or anything. You must understand that.”
“I do,” Boone confirmed, bobbing his head. “I also need to figure out who did this. If you have information, I need to hear it.”
“I don’t know that I have information,” Carrie cautioned. “I just ... there was a pattern of behavior.”
Boone slid his eyes to Cooper. The two men were obviously thinking the same thing. Carrie was sitting on a powder keg of information ... and she was afraid to share it because of Melanie. “Perhaps Melanie would like to take a break,” he started.
That was enough to have Melanie stirring. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, allowing a heavy sigh to escape. “I appreciate Carrie trying to protect my mother, but it’s not necessary. Here’s the thing ... my mother could be generous to a fault. She was loyal and protected those she loved with a fierceness that defies explanation.
“She could also be petty, vindictive, and emotionally abusive,” she continued. “Not to me, mind you. I was family, which meant she was loyal to me even when she was angry. If you wronged my mother, though — and she lived her life under the mistaken belief that everybody who ever disagreed with a single thing she said had somehow wronged her — then she never forgot it. Even if she pretended to forgive, she never forgot.”
Boone leaned back in his chair, weighing the information. “Is it possible that one of the people your mother thought wronged her was here?”
Melanie held out her hands and shrugged. “Even I couldn’t keep up with the people my mother thought wronged her. She had a list, though. Somewhere.”
“It was on her computer,” Carrie volunteered. “I can try to find it.”
“That would be helpful,” Boone said. “My understanding is that she had an announcement she was going to make. She told everyone that ... and then twenty minutes later she was dead. Do you have any idea what that announcement was?”
“No.” Melanie let loose a sigh. “Knowing my mother, it could’ve been anything. She didn’t tell me, though. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. You’ve given us a place to start. We’re appreciative of that.”
5
Five
Hannah was exhausted by the time everyone cleared out of Casper Creek. Police tape remained, cutting the brothel off from the rest of the town, but otherwise things were silent.
“I brought dinner,” Cooper announced as he strolled into the saloon, his eyes immediately going to Hannah.
“What?” She stood in the window, her expression blank, and tried to figure out what he’d said to her. It wasn’t easy. “I ... um ... would love dinner.” Since he was carrying a bag from one of their favorite diners, Hannah assumed whatever he’d said revolved around food. Her appetite was practically nonexistent, but she pasted a smile on her face, even though she felt the exact opposite of happy. “What did you get?”
Cooper carefully placed the bag on the table and regarded her. She had one of those faces that expressed every thought or feeling. Even though she wore the bartender uniform for the saloon — an outfit she absolutely hated — she looked somehow removed from her surroundings. It was a picture Cooper didn’t particularly like.
“Let’s talk.” He held out his hand to her, ignoring the question. He recognized she wouldn’t settle until she talked through what had happened.
Rather than acquiesce, which was her way most days, she made a face. “How about we eat and go straight to bed instead?”
Cooper didn’t miss a beat. “Usually that would be my idea of a perfect evening.”
“Not tonight, though?”
He shook his head. “You need to talk. You’ve been keeping your emotions bottled up all day.
