Now that she had lied to Lamontagne and there was nothing to be gained by abandoning her plan, Roxy pushed herself to call Terah Jones. This time she played herself.
“Hi, it’s Roxy,” she said.
“Hello,” Terah said tightly. “Called to accuse me, have you?”
“No,” said Roxy.
“Hmm. What can I do for you?”
“We’re reconstructing the scene of the murder tonight,” Roxy said. “You know, to work out if we can deduce any more information about who might have killed Meredith.”
“Who’s we?”
“Um… well, everybody, all of us who were there—Charles and George and me and Dr. Jack and Royston Lamontagne. And you.”
“No, I mean, who’s putting this together?”
Roxy knew she was about to get a lecture on meddling in an investigation so she ignored Terah’s question. “It’s happening at Dr. Jack’s place.”
“Oh, sure, that’s a good idea,” Terah said. “Let’s closet ourselves in a dark room, the scene of a murder, with the killer. They’ll probably murder another one of us, you know, just for fun.”
“I’m sure it won’t come to that.”
“You are far too sure of yourself, Roxy Reinhardt.”
Roxy sighed and switched her cell phone to the other ear. “Will you come?”
“I don’t know. When is it?”
“7 PM, tonight.”
“That’s not convenient.”
“But everyone will be there,” said Roxy. “You’ll be the only one missing. It would ruin it.”
“I don’t know what good it will do, me sitting there with nothing to say, and all of us reliving our trauma.”
“I know, it might come to nothing,” said Roxy. “But there’s a chance we might uncover something new, something that might make all the difference. I think it’s worth taking that chance. For Meredith’s sake.”
Terah sighed. “Oh, all right. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you so much,” Roxy said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Terah began to ask, “Are the police involved in…”
But Roxy only heard the start of her question before she hung up her phone. By the time Terah’s question had registered, it was too late. Roxy fired off a text to George telling him that the reenactment was on and a few minutes later, he wrote back to confirm that he and Charles would be there.
Roxy sat at her desk for a little while, watching a tiny spider climb her office wall. It was a mighty task for such a little guy, and it had to scramble several times when it lost its footing. Each time, though, the spider recovered and went on its way, eventually reaching the ceiling and disappearing into a tiny hole under the molding.
As she watched the spider climb its Mount Everest, Roxy wondered what on earth had happened to her life. She’d gone from successful hotel owner to law-breaker in one phone call. From timid, beaten down, naïve innocent to brazen liar in just a matter of months. She’d had plenty of moments of doubt as she’d made this transition, but like the little spider, she’d recovered and carried on. Now she wondered if she hadn’t gone too far. Perhaps she had. She’d now crossed a line, for sure, but recognizing her progress made her feel powerful. It was freeing. She felt unburdened, a little reckless, and a little scared of what she might be capable. She reminded herself that her transformation was for a good cause—finding Meredith Romanoff’s murderer was paramount.
Roxy heard a clock chime outside in the lobby and roused herself. It was lunchtime. She headed to the kitchen to make her lunch and Sam’s. Instead of the usual po’ boys, she whipped up some fried crab cakes. As she mixed the crab meat with flour, eggs, some seasoning, and deep-fried the mixture in a skillet, she thought about what she might learn later. She hoped that someone might drop a clue, or have a reaction, or some insight or memory that hadn’t been remembered prior. Guilt or grief might prompt a confession, but that might be too much to ask for. Nevertheless, she felt excitement, optimism, and hope that the mystery of Meredith’s murder might soon be resolved.
“Wow, what a treat,” said Sam, when Roxy appeared with his lunch. He was standing on the landing outside the loft. He closed the door as she ascended the last few steps and sat on the floor. Roxy sat on the top stair. Sam devoured three crab cakes in nine bites and wolfed down the salad just as quickly. He drained the glass of passionfruit juice she’d brought up, too.
Roxy laughed. “Looks like staining wood is hungry work! How’s progress?”
“Take a look for yourself,” Sam said, reaching to open the door.
The smell of the stain was so strong and pungent that it cut through Roxy’s nostrils. The navy blue floor gleamed, though. It was still wet, making the floor like a vast indoor lake.
“Wow!” she said, standing. “This looks incredible, Sam! Thank you!”
He winked. “Only the best for Roxy and the Funky Cat Inn.”
Roxy paused on the stairs and watched him for a moment: Sam, with his Rolls Royce, his good heart, his funds from a questionable source, and his helpful and protective ways. “Sam… can I ask you a quick question?”
“You can ask it quickly or slowly, it’s all good with me.” He stood now too, towering above her.
“I was just wondering, why are you spending so long renovating this loft for me? I mean, you surely have a lot of other things to do, and I could just pay someone.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to do it anymore?” he asked, anxiety springing into his eyes.
“No, no, not at all!” Roxy said as she quickly pressed a hand to his arm. “I’m happy, no, more than happy, no, delighted with the work you’re doing on it. But…it’s just…you’re such a busy guy, you could be doing much more good with your time, and I don’t see why…” All the words twisted up inside her head, and she was sure he was getting her all wrong. “Oh, don’t worry. Forget I said anything.”
“No,” he said. He looked at her with his kind eyes. “I enjoy doing this. And besides, I like spending time here. There’s nowhere else that feels so…comforting.” He grinned. “I like being around.”
Roxy smiled back. “I like you being around, too.”
“And I want you to have the best if I do say so myself.”
Roxy felt she might be blushing. “Oh, thanks,” she said. “That’s nice to know.”
“I really do,” he said steadily.
He came closer to the edge of the landing. Roxy took a step up, their eyes locked. The tension in the air was loaded.
“Ow!” Something stabbed Roxy in the ankle.
“Are you okay?” Sam said, hurriedly. He looked down, concerned.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Roxy said grimacing and rubbing her ankle. She blushed but with pain now. “Oh, I’m such a klutz.”
Sam looked down and bent to pick up a screwdriver that was poking out of his toolbox. “Nope, I’m the irresponsible tradesman. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay! It’s fine, really. It’s just a scratch.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
Roxy smiled as she let go of her ankle despite the still-stinging pain. She attempted to stand upright. “Absolutely. Well, I’d better be going. I have some work to do. Thanks, again, it looks awesome. The guests are simply going to love this room.”
“Are you sure about that? It would be perfect for you.”
“I know, but it looks so fantastic I think we should make it pay. It’s too much of a lovely room to simply be my quarters.”
Sam looked around the room, a cloud crossing his face. His shoulders sagged minutely, and he gave a small sigh before picking up his tools and getting back to work.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ROXY TOWELED HER short hair dry. She’d dressed casually in jeans and a shirt. Soon it would be time to leave for the botanica. She wanted to be early, but as she came out of her room, she found Sage and Elijah waiting for her. They both looked very grave.
“I might need you to play the part of Meredith,
Sage.”
“Okay, just give me a call to let me know if you do, honey, and I’ll come straight there. Now though, we are here to get you ready,” Sage said. Roxy frowned. “As we promised. The angels sent me a message that you need to be prepared. We’re going to surround you with their gentle, powerful, protective force.”
“Ah yes. And George was going to…”
“He will work his own magic. All the positive forces will compound together to look after you. Come on through to the shrine I’ve built.”
Roxy looked at Elijah. “I’m just her assistant,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
Roxy went into the lounge, and in the corner, Sage had set up a table with a crystal grid in the center. Amber, clear, and black stones were placed in circles, a large clear rock in the center. Candles flickered, a water fountain tinkled, the room was infused with the fragrance of lavender. A granite bowl filled with dried leaves and flowers sat to one side.
“I’ve impressed each of these crystals with protective energies. And here in this bowl, I’ve mixed aloe, pepper, musk, vervain, and saffron. This will call the angels to you. Please light them for me, Elijah,” Sage said. “Sit, Roxy.”
Elijah whipped out a chair from the middle of the room and placed it in front of the table. With a lighter, he lit the dried flowers in the bowl. Immediately an earthy, spicy fragrance rose into the air.
“Close your eyes,” Sage said softly. Roxy could feel the heat from Sage’s hands as they hovered over her head. “Elijah, hand her the orb.” Roxy felt a glass ball being placed in her hands. It felt cold. “Imagine a purple light surrounding you, Roxy, all around you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Feel it wrapping you in its warm, protective aura. Now imagine the crown of your head opening and a stream of healing white light flowing from the top of your head, into your heart, and out through your arms and hands. Imagine ropes from your feet traveling down, down, into the center of the earth, grounding you, holding you still. See the white light above you, keeping you safe.”
Roxy was feeling hot now. Her cheeks were burning; she could feel tiny beads of sweat on her upper lip. The glass orb in her hands was now warm too. Roxy felt Sage gently touch her head, then her shoulders, and finally her hands. “Take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.” A strong smell of lavender again assailed Roxy, and she stifled a cough. “You are now prepared to embark on your quest. When you are ready, open your eyes, and be on your way, knowing that the spirits will protect and guide you.”
Roxy opened her eyes. Before her, Sage pressed her hands together in prayer and bowed her head. Elijah reached over to take the glass ball from Roxy’s hands. He pressed his lips together, raised his eyebrows and winked. Roxy felt wonderfully calm. She rose from her seat and left the Funky Cat without saying another word.
When Roxy got to the botanica, she was still feeling relaxed and composed. The setting sun, the darkening chalk blue sky, and the singing birds had kept her nerves settled. The bell above the doorway to the botanica tinkled and inside, she found Dr. Jack polishing crystals behind the counter.
“Greetings!” he said.
Roxy slipped noiselessly through the store to him. “Dr. Jack, I think I’ve done something rather…out of character.” A frisson of energy almost caused her to shudder. The slightly reckless feeling she’d had earlier was back.
“Oh?” he asked, concern in his soft blue eyes. “You seem pretty cool with it.”
“Yes, you see,” she said, “I’ve been doing some investigating and well, it seems like everyone has a motive for Meredith’s murder. I thought the best thing would be to reconstruct the crime scene. I thought that it might force some more evidence into the open.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“But Royston Lamontagne was being difficult, and I didn’t think he’d cooperate, so when I rang him to tell him about the reenactment I pretended I was Officer Anna Brown of the NOPD.” She smiled sheepishly, still quite shocked that she, reticent Roxy Reinhardt, had gone quite that far. “I…I…well, I impersonated a police officer.”
“Ah,” said Jack.
“He was the only one I pretended that to. With the others, I was just myself.” She bit her lip. She couldn’t decide if she’d been brave or as George had suggested, crazy. Every time she felt proud of herself for her action, a small voice inside her argued that she was mad. “Do you think I’ll be arrested?”
Dr. Jack looked out the storefront window. “Hmm. You never know with that Johnson guy. He’s pretty unpredictable.”
“What about Officer Trudeau? Do you think he would take my side? Wait…I know! Trudeau!” said Roxy. “That’s it! He’ll understand.” He was the poor country kid trying to make good, a little bit like her. He’d be much more lenient. “I’ll give him a call.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Dr. Jack. “I would be more comfortable with the police knowing what you plan here tonight. What if something happened? Think about it. One of us must be the killer. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” Roxy looked at Jack, her hand poised over her phone, her eyes big. “You really should get their permission for your plan, Roxy. It would be much safer and more honest that way. And that means it would be more spiritually ethical and accompanied by better energies.”
“I’ll call Trudeau now,” said Roxy. She looked at the time on her phone. “Everyone should be here in about 15 minutes.” She went outside to call Trudeau.
“Ms. Reinhardt,” Officer Trudeau’s voice filtered through her phone’s speaker almost immediately. “What can I do for you?”
Roxy took a deep breath. “I thought I should notify you. I’ve invited all the people who were in the room when Meredith Romanoff was shot to Dr. Jack’s botanica for a reenactment of the crime scene.”
“You’ve done what?”
“Invited all the…”
“What did you do that for?”
“I thought it might help. Perhaps elicit some evidence or information that might result in an arrest.”
“Oh, man. You do know you’re meddling in an investigation? Detective Johnson isn’t going to like it. At all.”
“Yes, I know, but you don’t have to tell him, do you?”
“I’m in the squad car right next to him, Ms. Reinhardt.” Trudeau sounded genuinely sorry about that. “He already knows. You’re on speaker. He’s driving.”
Roxy heard Johnson bark in the background. Her stomach sank. She decided she couldn’t possibly mention she’d impersonated a police officer, not with Johnson listening in.
Trudeau began to speak, but his voice was muffled. She couldn’t hear what he was saying.
“Johnson says absolutely not,” Trudeau said coming through clearly now.
“I said I’ll arrest you!” Johnson hollered in the background.
Roxy kept her voice steady. “On what charges?” She could hear the two men talking loudly to each other.
Trudeau spoke into his phone. “He says whatever he can come up with. He’ll think of something. Stay put. We’re on our way.”
“No, no!” Roxy said to Trudeau. “It’s okay. I’ll just tell everyone to go home, and I’ll go back to the hotel.” She heard Trudeau talking to Johnson on the other end again. She listened hard to make out their words.
“We have to go to this other crime scene anyway, Detective,” Trudeau was saying.
“You don’t think I know that?”
“She says she’ll cancel everything and go back to her hotel,” Trudeau said.
“Tell her she’d better,” Johnson barked. “Because we’ll be over there the second we’re done, and if she’s still at that botany store or whatever it is, I’ll lock her in a cell. TONIGHT!”
“You heard that, I guess,” Trudeau said to Roxy.
“Yes,” said Roxy, sadly.
“Better cancel it and go back to the hotel, huh?” Trudeau said, in an unexpectedly kind voice. “That’s the right thing to do.”
“Okay,�
�� Roxy said meekly. “If you say so.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ROXY FELT CRUSHED, like all the life had gone out of her. Why had she come up with this mad idea? Why had she compromised herself to get everyone there? How was she going to find out who killed Meredith now? She slumped against the sidewall of the botanica and kicked a rock with her foot.
Behind her, she heard a car. Roxy turned to see a blacked-out Mercedes pull up in front of the botanica. Royston Lamontagne stepped out. He whipped shades from his suit pocket and slipped them on, despite the fading early evening light. Under his arm, he carried his little dog, Fenton. Lamontagne didn’t look in Roxy’s direction, but Fenton did. He bared his teeth and growled.
A swell of anger roiled up inside Roxy. She bared her teeth and growled back, wrinkling her tiny nose, and narrowing her eyes. Lamontagne didn’t notice, he walked straight across the sidewalk and into the botanica. Roxy, her anger at her impotence propelling her forward, hurried after him. She’d been frustrated at every turn of this investigation. She’d been stonewalled, abused, diverted, suspected, and patronized. She would hold this reenactment even if it got her thrown in jail, even if meant the entire kingdom of angels turned against her, even if Fenton was treated like Lamontagne’s handbag for the rest of his life! She had had it!
“Mr. Lamontagne!” she said as she crossed the botanica’s threshold.
He half-turned toward her. “Don’t talk to me,” he said, roughly.
“Why not?” Roxy said.
“I have important business matters to attend to. When’s this reenactment going to start, do you know?”
“In just a few minutes!”
Lamontagne held up his smartphone and gave her a withering look. She could see earbuds plugged into his ears. He sat down, still holding Fenton under his arm. He began texting.
Roxy looked at Dr. Jack behind the counter.
“How did your call go, my dear?” Jack asked.
Roxy took a deep breath. “Fine,” she lied. She was piling lies upon lies. It didn’t feel good, but she was in so deep now, she couldn’t see what else she could do. Roxy leaned on the counter. Johnson and Trudeau would be here soon. What was she going to do? “Man…”
Roxy Reinhardt Mysteries Box Set Page 48
