“Meredith!” he called, smiling. He nodded discreetly to the pristinely clean windows and my relief was visible. “This is my cousin, Sylvie. I was just telling her that you need an assistant.”

  “I love your shop,” Sylvie gushed. “I can't tell you how many times I've been in there. I bought this dress from you when you first opened.”

  “I remember it. It looks great on you.”

  “Thanks! Could I drop off my resumé? Or do you prefer I email it to you? I'm taking night classes to earn a degree in business in Hallowell but I've been looking for another job. I was working at the mall but the shop just announced they're going out of business. I hated the drive anyway and I'd love to work here in Calendar. I have local references.”

  I saw Tess wave to me from the corner. “I'm meeting a friend or I’d stay and talk to you now. Email me and we'll set up an interview,” I said, encouraged by her experience, style, and enthusiasm. Not only that, but I assumed Nate had already told her about the vandalism, which didn’t perturb her at all. On first impression, Sylvie seemed exactly what I needed. Better still, what the boutique needed.

  “I will. Nate, I'll see you later,” said Sylvie, giving him a hug before she hurried on.

  “You won't regret it,” said Nate. “Sylvie's a really hard worker. Your security system is nearly finished too. Do you want me to take you through it now?”

  “I can't yet because I need to meet Tess Hernandez. She's waiting for me. I do want to see how it works though before I reopen.”

  “I'll finish up then and activate it, and take you through everything when you're ready. Just give me a call.”

  “I will. Have there been any more problems?”

  Nate scowled. “Not while I've been here,” he said. “As if anyone would dare!”

  I thanked him again and hurried off to meet Tess whom I could see cross the road. When I arrived, she hugged me quickly. “I'm so pleased you called me,” she said. “Now tell me what we're doing.”

  I explained the video footage Sam showed me, as well as Sacha's recount of the conversation, and Tess pursed her lips. “So we need to know if this mystery man works in one of the shops or businesses nearby, or if he came here to follow Brad? Perhaps he even accompanied him? If so, he isn’t just an innocent passer-by!”

  “Exactly,” I agreed as I looked around. “I'm guessing it's the camera up there that shot the footage.” I pointed to a camera attached to the building next to us, although it wasn't obvious which business it belonged to.

  “Detective Logan must have spoken to the owners,” said Tess.

  “He said there weren't any other angles or security cameras nearby.”

  I stepped out of the way as a couple walked past us. Both were looking at me with extra interest, then pretending not to when I gave them a firm glare back.

  “Ignore them,” said Tess with a roll of her eyes.

  I nodded, determined to do exactly that. “He had his back to the camera so I think he probably came from that way,” I said, pointing to the road intersecting Main Street. Several businesses lined the street, including a smoothie shop, an upbeat grocery store, a winery and several other businesses I had no reason to go inside. Above all of them were mostly small apartments, although some of the businesses occupied multiple levels. “Nothing stands out to me,” I said with a sigh.

  “Could Brad have had some kind of business to attend to?” asked Tess. “I doubt he needed an emergency dental appointment or tickets from the travel agency.”

  “I doubt it too. Not that he wouldn't have gone to those places, but I just don't see him coming so far for one here.”

  “What about the mystery guy? Could he possibly have worked in one of them?”

  “A definite maybe,” I agreed, “but Sam didn't say anything to suggest Brad knew anyone here but me.”

  Tess brightened. “Sam?” she asked.

  “He insisted I use his first name,” I said, biting back a smile.

  “Hmmm!” Tess nudged my arm. “What if we showed Brad's photo around? Perhaps someone will remember seeing them both?”

  “Except the mystery man walked this way, although I guess he could have gone any direction off camera. The camera only captured part of his crossing. I feel foolish thinking I could solve this just by standing here,” I said. “I think you came up with the best idea. The problem is: I only have Brad's photo, not the mystery man's, and I doubt anyone would pay much attention to two men exchanging a few cross words several days ago. There was nothing about their conversation to draw anyone’s attention.”

  “Let's try my idea,” said Tess. “We're here now and I want to solve this mystery as much as you do.”

  It took us a full hour to inch our way along the businesses on both sides of the street. Every time I showed Brad's photo, we received blank faces and shakes of the head with apologetic excuses. No one recalled seeing Brad at all, but a couple of people correctly guessed he was the victim of a murder and asked what really happened. I kept my comments brief and vague before Tess spirited us away when the questions became too probing.

  “It was worth a shot,” said Tess as we stopped at the far end of the street. “Actually, maybe we got this all wrong,” she added, pausing to stare at the service road behind the shops. She pointed towards it. “Isn't this the same alley behind your shop?”

  “It is,” I replied. “I didn't consider that aspect. The sabotage on my bicycle indicated Brad was around here at some point. I just assumed he accessed the alley from the other side since that would be closest to my shop.”

  “Perhaps someone caught him in the act and followed him, maybe even challenged him?”

  “The video showed Brad on Main Street the whole time although I suppose I didn’t see the before and after footage. The other man was the one who came along here. That doesn’t rule out him perpetrating the sabotage earlier.”

  “Could it have been his PI? You said you didn't know who located you or how Brad knew where you were? Perhaps his PI brought him here to show him exactly where to find you.”

  “That's very possible. I swear someone was following me a short while back. I guess he could have returned with Brad. Perhaps he left him that day or as soon as Brad was killed.”

  “That's someone else who knew him and might have had a motive,” said Tess. “Could Brad have stiffed him on the bill?”

  “I wish I could take another look at Brad's things. Detective Logan still has his electronics, and David has everything else. I met him this morning. He wanted to know what happened to his brother.”

  “Damn,” said Tess.

  “I’m sure Sam must have checked these businesses already or why ask me if I recognized the man?” I frowned as a woman with big sunglasses stopped opposite us, on the other side of the street, staying almost obscured behind a large, black SUV. I grabbed Tess's arm and she turned to look. The woman stared hard when she noticed both of us looking, and soon ducked out of sight. A moment later, she passed the SUV, keeping her back to us, and hurried away without saying a thing.

  “Wasn't that…” started Tess.

  I nodded. “Yes! Brad's girlfriend.”

  “So she's still in town. Wow. What a lot of nerve!”

  “And I think she might be following us,” I said. “But why?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  By the time we rounded the corner, Martha Murray was nowhere to be seen.

  “Damn!” I sighed. “I was sure she was tailing us.”

  “Maybe she was so embarrassed by her outburst, that she scurried away rather than confronting you again. I'm sure Detective Logan must’ve read her the riot act!”

  I gazed down Main Street, wondering if Martha planned to leave soon, and if she didn't, I expected David could persuade her to. “I hope so,” I said. “But I have a feeling this isn't the last time something related to Brad will encroach on my life.”

  After profusely thanking Tess for allowing me to commandeer her lunch hour, I did what I originally planned to do. I headed home, took out my laptop, and attempted to do some work. Sylvie had already emailed me her resumé and on paper, she was the perfect candidate to assist me. Her business degree was approaching the end of its second year, so I knew she might not be permanent but she gave me the impression she would be a very good assistant all the same. I resolved to interview her the following week, and hire her immediately if I liked what I heard. That way, I could reopen the shop and quietly remain absent until all the gossip died down. It didn't escape me that every day the shop was closed, I lost money.

  Then I remembered what David said: Brad left me everything. With the sale of the house, its contents, and the cars, I would be moderately wealthy. But did I really want that money? It made me feel faintly icky, and I struggled to shake that sensation throughout the rest of the day. Brad had no problem spending my money from my modeling days, badgering me into investing “for the good of both of us” and sinking large sums into his choice of purchases, with his name on the receipts. When I walked away from him, I blew it off and considered it the price I had to pay for my freedom.

  After mulling over Tess's suggestion about the PI, I left a message for Sam in the late afternoon. Although I didn't expect him to return the call, I half-waited for it all evening, anticipating his voice whenever my phone beeped. Instead, Tess checked in on me and sparked a text conversation that made me smile. Sara called after Tess to see how I was doing and Candice called me too. Despite my worries, their genuine concern touched me. Not only that, but also their unending faith that I had nothing to with this terrible crime. For years, I yearned for friends like these and now that I had them, I found it heart-warming.

  Finally, I snuggled into bed and fell into a dreamless sleep, waking later than I'd ever slept in before. The few days I got little to no sleep were a total contrast and now, I felt refreshed and energized. I took my time starting the coffee, and quickly made myself a bowl of yogurt and fruit that I took outside to my sun trap of a patio. I also carried a small stack of mail that I spirited from the mailbox before my neighbors could accost me. I opened the mail slowly as I ate, setting aside the fashion magazines to enjoy later. A couple of bills arrived and a letter I never expected to receive: an eviction notice!

  I had six weeks to find another home!

  While I never considered this rental house as my forever home, I nevertheless reveled in having a place of my own, especially one as pretty as this was. And the garden! I learned to enjoy gardening here. Now I would have to start all over again from the beginning. The ugly image of the vandalized shop window sprang into my head. Maybe the whole town didn’t want me here anymore? Maybe I’d have to start all over somewhere else entirely?

  My shoulders dropped and my heart sank. Despite the horrible events of the past few days, I relished the warmth of a community rallying around me. Sara, Vanessa, Tammy, Tess, Candice, Karen... and even Sam. They were all so supportive no matter how challenging the circumstances were to believe. Yet, they continued to trust me. Would I find burgeoning friendships like these again? Possibly, after laying all the tedious groundwork, but I didn't want to. I chose Calendar to be my home, and spent considerable time and money to start over here. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't afford to do that again.

  Then I remembered what David said about the inheritance. The house alone was worth a lot. If I claimed the money, I wouldn't have to endure the costs and headache of relocating. I could buy a shop instead of leasing one! I could probably buy a house too with a nice sofa and pretty things that couldn’t fit into just two boxes. I could put down proper roots for once without the worry of Brad finding me. He could never hurt me again!

  I set the eviction notice aside, next to my empty bowl, and reached for the phone. Still no news from Sam. I hoped that was a good thing. Perhaps he was following a lead.

  Then my phone rang, startling me so much, I almost dropped it.

  “Hi, Sara,” I said, answering.

  “Meredith, have you seen the newspaper?” Sara asked breathlessly.

  “No, and I'm sure I don't want to,” I said. “Is it awful?”

  “It's not great... but... why didn't you tell me before?”

  “Tell you what?” I asked, frowning.

  “That you were... that you are Meredith Arden. As in the Arden.”

  “Ah.”

  “So it's true?” Sara pounced. “Oh, my gosh, Meredith! That's so exciting! You said you were in magazines, not that you were super famous!”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “You were every teenage girl’s idol of the decade. You were on every magazine cover! You wore every fashion the top designers created and started that fabulous pixie cut that everyone copied. I wondered what Candice meant when she said you looked different with your hair long. And then you had a big celebrity wedding before you just disappeared... I always wondered what... oh!” Sara trailed to a stop.

  “Now you know what happened,” I said as I let out a sigh. “Brad happened. And it's all in The Calendar Times? But how could they possibly know such intimate details?”

  “Alyssa Michaels figured out how to put it together. She really did her homework. It's all there. Your stardom, and your abrupt fade from the limelight.”

  “So, my cover is blown but it's not so bad?” I asked hopefully. When Sara didn't immediately reply, I knew I was wrong. “It's a hatchet job, isn't it? I never got used to those. The biggest bonus of not being in the limelight any longer was not having to read awful, untrue things about yourself every other day.”

  “I wouldn't say it’s a hatchet job but there are some alarming quotes from a certain source.”

  “A certain source? Who specifically?”

  “It doesn't say. They're anonymous. But apparently, they come from someone who knows you quite well. There’s a photo of you leaving a hospital too, which they refer to as some kind of celebrity rehab. The implication is obvious: you had a nervous breakdown. Several, actually.”

  “I didn't ever have even one! It’s just another of Brad's schemes to discredit me. I need to see the article.”

  “That's all there is,” said Sara.

  “I still need to read it. I wish I could hide in a hole but I can't. Sara, do you think someone is trying to frame me? First Brad dies on my doorstep, then someone vandalizes my shop by writing Murderer and Martha Murray publicly accuses me of killing Brad. Perhaps she’s the one? Do you think she went to the newspaper and told them what I can only assume Brad told her?”

  “There's only one way to find out. We need to speak to that reporter!” said Sara, back to being decisive.

  “We?”

  “You don't think I'm going to let you go alone! I'll pick you up in thirty minutes.”

  “I'll be ready!”

  I was waiting impatiently in my living room window, wearing a sundress with a whimsical floral print, when Sara arrived in her car. I tossed around the idea of shutting my drapes from intrusive reporters and the camera flashes of paparazzi, but thankfully, the only people I saw were Jerry, who waved at me with both hands, and Kate's friend who had an alarmed look before she hurried away. I waved back at Jerry, thankful for a moment of normalcy.

  “Meredith!” he called, hurrying from his house as I reached the sidewalk.

  “Gotta go now. Big hurry!” I said as the car door opened and Sara beckoned me to get in.

  “I knew it was you!” he said. “I just knew it! A supermodel lives across the street from me! We have to talk!”

  “Can't wait!” I said, hoping my face didn't betray me.

  “This is the first time I've had a supermodel in my car,” said Sara when I got in, slamming the door and drowning out Jerry.

  “That's not true. For one, I've been in your car before. And two, I'm not a supermodel anymore.”

  “It's still very cool for me,” said Sara. “It's just so weird. I mean... I know how you got from there to here but it's so crazy. You went from there to here.”

  “You make it sound like a fall from grace!”

  “I don't mean that. I mean... I used to read the magazines and you were in them leading such a glamorous life and now... What is that man doing? He won't stop waving.”

  “Jerry got very excited about the news apparently,” I said. “Please drive away before he decides to join us.”

  Sara laughed and accelerated. “You’re probably the biggest news this town ever had.”

  “And now, I live in a tiny rental in a town in the middle of nowhere, selling clothes, and it's a little disappointing?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, no! Not disappointing, just unexpected. I mean... Calendar?” She pulled a face. “Why not somewhere exotic?!”

  “Is it weird that I prefer this life? Look at it,” I said, pointing to the wisteria clinging to my house and the flowers peeking through the hedge.

  “I guess not.”

  “My former life wasn't as lovely as it seemed, you know. The glamorous clothes and makeup... Some designers said I was fat or the wrong body shape. To others, my head was too big or too small; my arms were too muscular, and the next day they said I was too waif-like! They eagerly shoved all kinds of pills and drugs my way — which I never used! — and told me to schmooze with everyone but be sure you get up by three AM to catch a flight to Tokyo for the next runway assignment. Have an opinion, but not too much of one. Date this guy and get on all the most popular magazine covers. He's got a drug problem? Never mind. That guy needs someone like you on his arm. Oh, so what if he’s condescending and arrogant? There was so much wrong in that world. A lot of the models have serious emotional problems, the men as well as the women, along with everyone around us.”

  “I'm exhausted just hearing about it.”

  I paused for a long moment, then said, “I was lucky. There were good people protecting me. I had a strong relationship with my family, a good agent, and a sensible accountant. I was grounded and well looked after... until...” I glanced out the window.

  Sara waited for a car to pass, then accelerated behind it. “Until you met Brad.”

  “Yes. Until I met Brad.”