Home Sweet Murder

by Eliza Brookes

  “No.”

  His eyes widened slightly but he kept his composure, unwilling to back down but surprised at her stance. He was not used to this sort of thing happening to him.

  “Now,” she said slowly, “you wanted my notes and you got them. If there’s nothing else, I am going to leave.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I don’t understand,” Allegra said uncertainly, “My work has been flawless, and you need the help.”

  Her previous employer, the owner of the diner, looked uncomfortable. It was clear that he was not used to firing people, it was clear in his posture and the way he was handling it.

  “I can’t have a waitress who misses shifts because the police want to talk to her. Look, you’ve been great, but I need someone who I can rely on. And someone who isn’t wanted by the police.”

  Allegra felt herself slump forward dejectedly. He made a fair point, but it still stung. Getting fired is like failing your driving test. You’re frustrated because you know you can do the job, but you can’t get a second chance. That, and both have financial implications.

  “The police won’t be calling me in again,” Allegra reasoned, hoping that he would change his mind.

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind,” he told her firmly, handing her a white envelope. She sighed and nodded, deciding to cut her losses and move on.

  Once she was outside, she opened the envelope to reveal a measly check, reimbursing her for one afternoon. She stuffed it into her bag, mentally calculating how much further she could dig into her savings before she would need another job.

  She was so deep in thought, that as she stepped off the curb, she narrowly avoided being hit by a flashy truck. Allegra gasped and jumped backwards, looking up at what had almost been a costly trip to the hospital.

  “I’m so sorry,” she started apologizing as the truck pulled over.

  When she saw who stepped out of the truck, she almost swallowed her words. Suddenly, the entire thing did not look like an accident anymore.

  “What is wrong with you!” Reginald Vance yelled, throwing his hands in the air. Today, he wore a silver suit and a white dress shirt. For some reason, he decided to leave three buttons undone, showing off his extremely hairy chest. A thick gold chain lay nestled on the nest of hair. The hair on his head was slicked back with so much gel that it looked wet.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized again, but not meaning it, “I wasn’t concentrating.”

  He pointed a finger at her and glared at her through his dark sunglasses. “You are trouble, little lady.”

  “If you say so,” she shrugged, looking both ways at the street so that she could cross it.

  “I’m not done with you,” he seethed, grabbing her arm. She yelped and kicked his shin, causing him to grunt in pain and step back, all while glaring at her.

  “Touch me again, and I’ll smash your windscreen,” she threatened, watching him like a cornered animal.

  He scoffed and took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Whatever, Princess,” he smirked, “all I was going to say was, you better be out of my house in three days. Because construction begins on Monday.”

  “It will never be your house,” Allegra seethed, wishing she could smash his windscreen anyway. She wondered how much jail time that would be. Maybe she wouldn’t need a job after all, it didn’t cost anything to stay in jail.

  “Ho ho,” he chortled sarcastically, “think again. The Mathers sisters are about to sign their inheritance to me.”

  “They can’t, genius,” she pointed out, wondering how stupid this man was, “The inheritance has been frozen.”

  “You know what the great thing about being rich is, genius?” he said in a mocking tone, “You can get better lawyers. Your flimsy evidence isn’t enough to contest the will anymore. You’re looking at the soon-to-be owner of the Wickers estate.”

  Allegra opened her mouth angrily but couldn’t think of anything to say. He laughed loudly, much to her embarrassment and gave her a two-fingered salute, whistling a joyful tune to himself. She was happy to see that he was still limping from where her foot contacted his shin.

  ***

  Mr. Carey’s waiting room was a thing of beauty. His receptionist was a young woman in her early twenties who was busy doing an interior design course online. There was no doubt that the girl was talented. The entire atmosphere was warm and inviting, which was not how one usually felt when waiting to speak to a lawyer. The tasteful décor did wonders for frayed nerves.

  “Ms. Mitchells,” Mr. Carey said tiredly, appearing through his office door. The poor man looked exhausted. His suit was disheveled, and he was busy chewing on a pain killer. He nodded at his receptionist and took a swig of water, wincing as the pills went down his throat. “What a nice surprise,” he said in a tone that implied that it certainly wasn’t a nice surprise.

  “I’m sorry to pop in like this, Mr. Carey,” Allegra apologized sincerely, “I just need your help with something.”

  He nodded and gestured toward his office, allowing her to walk past him. She sat down on one of the hard chairs, wishing he had allowed his receptionist to decorate his office too. Mr. Carey only knew one style- spartan. He chatted to his receptionist in a low voice before turning his attention back to her.

  “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be brief,” Mr. Carey told her, “I have an appointment in a few minutes.”

  “I wanted to ask your opinion on Reginald Vance,” she said getting straight to the point. She felt restless, like she had to find the murderer soon. Time was running out for her. She had no job, and soon she would have no house. She could not stay in Llewes Cove much longer and the pressure to find the truth was beginning to stress her out. Unlike the police, she did not have all the time in the world to sort it out. That was unfair, she realized as she thought it, she did not have as much time as Officer Crane did. Or the resources.

  “That’s an unusual question,” he said, looking surprised.

  “Not really,” Allegra grumbled, “I think he may have something to do with Dot’s murder, but no one in town knows him that well. You used to represent him, I was just wondering if you could help me with a brief character study.”

  “I can’t think of anything that would tie him to the murder,” Mr. Carey admitted helplessly, “He doesn’t know many people in town, except for Ashlee and Ellie.”

  “Really?” she asked, leaning forward eagerly. “How do they know each other? It doesn’t look like they would run in the same circles.”

  “They don’t,” Mr. Carey conceded, “I think they are second cousins or something like that. They don’t spend much time together, as you would imagine. But they came to me a few days ago, trying to sell the house to Reginald.”

  “I heard that Reginald is getting his lawyers involved,” Allegra said, wondering if Mr. Carey had known but didn’t want to tell her for some reason.

  “Oh dear,” Mr. Carey fretted, looking down at his desk. He began sorting through the papers there, looking for something. “I had no idea,” he said, his voice sounding a little panicked, “that’s probably why he wanted to see me so urgently.”

  “Wait,” Allegra said, holding up her hand, “that’s who you’re seeing in a few minutes?”

  “Yes!” Mr. Carey cried, gathering papers together and putting them on a pile. He seemed to be flustered and panicked, which was starting to alarm Allegra.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Carey?” Allegra asked gently, getting up to see if she could help in any way.

  “I am not prepared for that sort of appointment,” Mr. Carey gulped, paling visibly, “Things have been so muddled with this whole murder business, I can’t think straight anymore.”

  “Why don’t you just cancel?” Allegra suggested. Mr. Carey went still and looked at her as if she had just suggested he retire early and move to a tropical paradise. A little uncertain, but with a bright burning spark of possibility.

  “I can do that,” he said wonder
ingly, “Jessica!”

  Jessica, the receptionist, hurried through the door as if something was on fire. Mr. Carey never yelled. When he found out that she decorated the foyer without his permission, he had just asked her to leave his office alone. When she muddled up files, he politely asked her to focus on what she was doing. But he never yelled. Not ever.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking at Allegra as if she were a burglar.

  “Please cancel my appointment with Reginald Vance,” he announced as if he was telling her to pack his bags for Costa Rica.

  “Right away, sir,” she said uncertainly, giving him a bewildered look.

  “What a relief,” Mr. Carey said, smiling happily and sinking into his chair, “You saved me today, Ms. Mitchells.”

  “Anything for you,” Allegra said with a smile, “You let me stay in Dot’s house. That was kind of you.”

  “Anytime, dear,” Mr. Carey said, giving her a fond smile, “Dot would have had my head if she knew I let you sleep on the streets. There is no doubt in my mind that she would have wanted you to have everything. But don’t tell anyone else that,” he said hurriedly, looking around suspiciously as if he expected an eavesdropper to pop out from behind the curtains.

  “It could not have been easy,” Allegra said sympathetically, “I imagine Ashlee must have been here, first thing in the morning to give you an earful.”

  “I knew what I was getting myself into,” he admitted with a laugh, “I was ready for her when she came knocking. I had Jessica tell her that I was out for the day. Ever since then she sent me a lovely basket of fruit, if I were a weaker man, you would be homeless right now.”

  “Thank goodness for moral integrity,” she joked, wiping her forehead dramatically.

  “Although,” he admitted thoughtfully, “I was not prepared for Ms. Smith’s reaction.”

  “Ellie?” Allegra asked in surprise, “what did she say?”

  “Well, she was quite insistent that you should not be allowed in the house under any circumstances.”

  “Was she repeating Ashlee’s message?” Allegra asked, feeling shocked. She could not imagine why Ellie would not want her in the house. She could understand Ashlee’s reaction, but Ellie’s reaction was completely out of the blue.

  “I don’t think so,” Mr. Carey said, frowning, “she came out of her own will.”

  “I’ll go to speak to her,” Allegra said determinedly, “in the meantime, is there anything you can do to hold off Reginald and his pack of lawyers?”

  “I’ll try not to take offense,” he said, pretending to be hurt, “but I won’t be able to hold them off for long, Ms. Mitchells. You need to hurry with whatever you’re doing. I need more evidence to keep you in the house. What I have done could get me in a lot of trouble.”

  “And we don’t want that,” Allegra said kindly, reaching over to give his hand a comforting squeeze.

  ***

  When she finally got back home, she took the time to look around her. She stood on the front porch, admiring the view. This house meant more to her than she ever realized. Now that it was about to be taken away from her, she wanted to protect it with everything inside of her. She would fight for this house, she realized. Like she should have fought for Grumpy Dot.

  She turned away from the view and scratched around in her bag for her keys. As she went to unlock the front door, she realized with a start that it was already unlocked. She frowned, trying to remember if she had left it unlocked. Maybe Eleanor was here? Her heart began pounding in her chest despite her reassuring thoughts.

  The vague nerves turned into full-blown panic when she smelled the unmistakable aroma of smoke in the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Allegra rushed in, fearing the worst. She took her phone out of her bag and began dialing Greta’s number, wondering if the fire department would make it there in time. The entire house smelled vaguely of smoke, but it was not getting stronger. She found the source of the fire in the living room. A cheery little fire was crackling away in the old fireplace.

  A familiar blonde woman sat in front of the fire, poking it with a piece of wood. Allegra stopped and slowly made her way into the room, wondering what she should say.

  “Hi, Allegra,” Ellie said brightly, turning around to face her old friend.

  “Ellie,” Allegra said cautiously, “I didn’t know you had a key.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Ellie said casually, turning back to stoke the fire, “Grumpy Dot gave it to me when she was sick. I offered to bring her groceries.”

  Allegra looked around helplessly, at a loss about what to say. It was not every day that you came home to find one of your old friends building a fire in your home.

  “I meant, I didn’t know you were coming over,” Allegra clarified slowly, walking toward her. Ellie shrugged and tossed a few more pieces of wood into the fire to make it bigger. “Ellie, I don’t think this is okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ellie said suddenly, stretching her big blue eyes to make them look even bigger, “I just missed Dot so much. I wanted to feel close to her again. I used to come over all the time. She’d make a fire and we’d sit around drinking a nice cup of tea.”

  “What is it with you people and cups of tea?” Allegra muttered to herself, “I understand that. But you could have let me know you were coming. You scared me.”

  “You’re right,” Ellie said firmly, looking ashamed, “I should have told you. I’m always doing things like this. I’m so stupid. I have to be more thoughtful.”

  Allegra stared at the other woman for a moment, not sure how she was supposed to respond to that. Ellie was at fault, but she was also taking all the blame and being too hard on herself.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Allegra said slowly, “I just meant that a heads up would have been nice. You’re welcome to come over any time you want. I’m grateful for what you did for Dot.”

  Ellie looked up from her mournful stare-off with the ground, her face brightening at the invitation.

  “You are so kind,” Ellie said breathlessly, “but I’ll go now, you must be tired.”

  “Not really,” Allegra said suddenly, taking a step forward to stop Ellie from leaving. Ellie looked at her, her pale blue eyes widened in confusion.

  Ellie’s eyes were the lightest shade of blue anyone had ever seen on a person. They were so light that they were almost grey. In fact, everything about Ellie was light. Her hair was a pale shade of blonde, and despite the warm climate, her skin remained translucent. Between the two sisters, Ashlee was more beautiful. She also had the stronger personality. While Ellie was kind and gentle, she generally tended to blend into the background.

  “Why don’t you stay?” Allegra offered suddenly, feeling overcome by a sudden urge to speak to Ellie. “I’ll make us a cup of tea, and we can catch up. It’s been a while since we had really had a chance to talk.”

  Ellie seemed taken aback by the offer, and for the slightest moment, a flash of annoyance spread through her features. It was gone so quickly that Allegra was convinced she was seeing things.

  “Sure,” Ellie said cheerily, “but you sit down, I’ll make the tea.”

  “You don’t have to…” Allegra protested.

  “I insist,” Ellie said firmly, “I used to do it all the time for Dot. She said I made the best tea in Llewes Cove.”

  Allegra shrugged and sat down, wondering how she would approach the subject with Ellie. She was not sure how she could ask if Ellie shared Ashlee’s opinion of her. And how was she supposed to ask about Reginald or Ashlee’s involvement in the murder. They were both related to her.

  She was still strategizing when Ellie came back a few minutes later with a tray and the tea set. She smiled kindly at Allegra.

  “Milk? Sugar?”

  “Sure, I need a lot of both. Tea has never really been my thing.”

  “Not your cup of tea?” Ellie asked mischievously, causing Allegra to chuckle at the weak pun. Pun enthusiasts were always so disappointed when y
ou didn’t laugh at their jokes. Whenever someone made a pun, no matter how weak it was, she made a point of laughing at it.

  “You know, I never did thank you for rescuing me that day,” Ellie said suddenly, handing Allegra her cup of tea, and sitting down close to the fire with her own cup.

  “There’s no need,” Allegra said, not wanting to bring up the subject again, “Aren’t you getting hot?”

  The temperature outside was still high, and instead of being in the stuffy house, Allegra was contemplating going down to the beach with an ice cream cone. She blew on her tea, taking a small sip so as not to hurt Ellie’s feelings. She grimaced at the bitter taste, wishing she could have opted for a glass of water instead.

  “No,” Ellie told her simply, “I’m always cold these days.”

  Allegra nodded, not sure how to respond to that strange statement. She wished she could put her cup of tea down, it was beginning to burn her throat, but she didn’t want to hurt Ellie’s feelings.

  “And there is a need,” Ellie said, watching her intently, “to thank you, I mean. If you hadn’t been around that summer, things would have been very different.”

  “You were one of my best friends,” Allegra told her, “I was happy to help out.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Ellie commented, smiling softly, “I always thought I was annoying you.”

  Ellie was a good four years younger than Allegra, and the two only became friends during her later summers. Little Ellie was always hanging around her, trying to help with the mysteries. She was a mature child, and they got along well despite the gap in their ages.

  “I always thought of you as a little sister,” Allegra told her, swirling the rest of her tea in the cup. The room felt very hot, and she contemplated opening a window. She dismissed the thought though; the window was so far away, and the chair was so comfortable.

  “You were always so nice to me,” Ellie reminded her, “Is there something wrong with the tea?”