Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

highlights in my hair and it had been several inches shorter. “Okay,” I said, exhaling in relief that I hadn’t been stalked and clueless for more than a year. “This is recent. Within the last couple of months I’d say.”
    I grabbed the rest of the photos and looked at them all. Me at the dry cleaners. Me at a high school basketball game. Me at the park with my mother. All recent. I was sure of it. “These are, too,” I said.
    “Were they all taken before or after you found Bernard Butler’s body?” Nick asked. I started to open my mouth and ask why, but he interrupted. “Think about it carefully,” he said.
    “Before,” I finally said. “Why is that important?”
    My question went unanswered. Nick was in full cop mode, and there was nothing I could do to get him to share his thoughts with me.
    “I can’t believe someone would do this,” I said.
    “Not just someone, Addison, but more than likely the murderer.”
    “I keep thinking about Robbie Butler and his reaction to me during his brother’s funeral. There’s no way I misread those looks he was giving me. He hates me for some reason, and he certainly knows his way around the church.”
    I was also thinking about the first photograph I’d received. The one my principal had taken of me on stage at The Foxy Lady. Could Robbie Butler have killed his own brother? I looked out the window and noticed the sun was shining for once, but it didn’t make me feel better.
    “ You’ve read my mind,” Nick said. “Robbie Butler is definitely a person of interest in this investigation. But you need to let me handle this. I want you to go stay with Kate.”
    For the first time since we’d opened the package I noticed the fine tremors of anger radiating from Nick’s body. There was nothing in the world that would make me miss Nick confronting Robbie Butler.
    “I don’t think so,” I said and grabbed my bag.
    “Fine, but let me do the talking.”
    I wasn’t going to argue. I was more than happy to let someone more competent than I was be in charge.

    Robbie Butler lived in a town home just south of the historic district in downtown Savannah. Each building housed two units. Red geraniums were planted along the sidewalk that led to Robbie’s front door and huge elm trees lined the street. Nick parked his truck at the curb and I hopped out with all the enthusiasm of Marie Antoinette heading towards the guillotine.
    “Nice place,” I said, knowing the rent in this area was astronomical.
    “Yeah, the youngest Butler is an investment banker. The other unit in his building was occupied by his oldest brother.”
    “Mr. Butler lived here? My principal?” I asked, surprised. “Maybe I need to check into becoming a principal.”
    The curtains in the front room fluttered and I knew we’d been spotted. Nick rang the doorbell and rapped on the door twice, and when Robbie Butler answered the door I had a hard time connecting the image I’d seen at the funeral to the one standing in front of me. He was dressed in torn jeans and a t-shirt that looked like he’d been sleeping in it. Days old stains littered the front of his shirt—ketchup, whole grain mustard, pickle relish and grape jelly. It must have been a hell of a sandwich. My lip curled involuntarily at the yellow stains under his armpits, and my eyes watered at the stench emanating off his body. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face gaunt, and he hadn’t seen a razor since the funeral. The only thing that was recognizable was the belligerent hostility etched on his face.
    “Robbie Butler?” Nick asked.
    “Yeah. What do you want?” He addressed his question to me, and it was obvious he still thought of me as the woman who caused his brother to die.
    “I’m Detective Dempsey with the Savannah PD. I’ve been investigating your brother’s death.”
    “His murder, you mean,” Robbie interjected.
    “Yes. I need to ask you a few questions.”
    “I’ve already talked to the police. The person you need to question is standing right beside you, but it’s pretty obvious she’s wormed her way into your bed too.”
    I could feel myself turning red. What was it that made people think that Nick and I were already sleeping together?
    “We can do this here or I can take you down to the station,” Nick said. “It’s up to you.”
    We waited patiently while Robbie made up his mind. He finally stepped back. “Fine, but make it quick. I’ve got things to do today.”
    He left us standing in the