by Sarah Fox
“Aunt Gilda! That dress! And Wesley Lambert.”
“He enjoyed seeing the pictures.”
I covered my face with my hands. “So he could tease me about them.”
“Because you looked adorable in every single one.” Gilda patted my shoulder. “But I won’t show him any more photos if you don’t want me to.”
I dropped my hands from my face. “Thank you.”
She poured us each a cup of tea and we moved into the living room. Once we’d settled on the couch, I told her about my date, including the brief sleuthing excursion and our almost-kiss. I didn’t mind sharing those things with Gilda. She’d always been my favorite aunt, someone I could confide in. She warned me not to take my investigating too far, and I assured her that I’d be careful.
By the time we’d finished our tea, the unsettled feeling that had plagued me the last few days had disappeared and a sense of calm had moved in to replace it. Everything in my life was going well, except perhaps for my investigation into Marcie’s murder.
Joey’s articles in the newspaper hadn’t suggested that the police knew anything more than I did, but I hoped they were nevertheless having better luck with their investigation. In case they weren’t, however, I fully intended to forge ahead with my own.
* * *
Even though I was cutting it a bit short, I decided to make a quick trip to Shady Creek Manor before opening the Inkwell for the day. I sent a quick text message to Mel, letting her know that I was going out and asking her to open the pub if I didn’t make it back in time.
I really wasn’t sure how to get more information about Brad on my own. Maybe waiting to find out what Grayson uncovered was the best idea, but I still wanted to poke around for clues at the manor. There was a chance I could find out why Jan Finch had been sneaking around the hotel the other day. It could have been that she simply had a jumpy disposition and wasn’t anywhere she shouldn’t have been, but if that was the case, I wanted to know. At the moment, she and Brad Honeywell were the only people on my suspect list. If I could cross her name off it, Brad’s position as the most likely culprit would solidify.
As I drove to the manor, I recalled that I’d seen Marcie talking with Judson out in the gardens. Flirting with him, I suspected. I probably should have asked him more questions before, but hopefully I could make up for that this morning. He’d been out on the grounds the day Marcie died. There was a chance he could have seen something or someone out of the ordinary, whether or not it struck him as unusual or suspicious at the time.
Hunting for clues wasn’t my first priority, however. I knew Linnea’s brother was taking her home. I was hoping they hadn’t left yet so I could have a chance to say goodbye. When I climbed out of my car in the parking lot, I noticed Judson out behind the hotel, riding a tractor mower over the grass. I waved to him and he waved back before steering the mower around a flower bed.
I made my way around to the front of the manor, once again averting my eyes from the spot where Marcie had died. Despite my refusal to look at the scene of her death, Marcie’s scream replayed in my head. I yanked open the door and hurried inside, as if I could escape the memory of the terrible sound.
A blond-haired woman, shorter and slimmer than Gemma Honeywell, stood behind the reception desk, facing away from me. She whipped around at the sound of my arrival.
“Karidee?” Surprise colored my voice. “What are you doing?”
Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes were wide. “My . . . my pen,” she stammered. She ducked out of sight for a second and then reappeared, slipping something into her purse, or pretending to, at least. “I dropped it and it rolled back here.”
She scooted out from behind the desk and darted past me to the door. “Bye!” she called before disappearing from sight.
Our exchange had only lasted a few seconds, but in that time my surprise had morphed into suspicion. I peeked behind the reception desk, but couldn’t see anything amiss. The desk drawers were shut tight and the few pieces of mail tucked into the numbered boxes on the wall were tidy.
Maybe I’d disturbed Karidee before she had a chance to search for whatever she was looking for, because I was certain she hadn’t gone back there to retrieve a pen. Her lie had been as transparent as the windows flanking the front door.
It wasn’t the first time Karidee had been found sneaking around the manor. Marcie had chased her off the day I’d come to have tea with Linnea. Had Marcie found Karidee up on the third floor, trying to find Linnea’s room, leading to a squabble and a physical fight?
I didn’t know the answer to that question, but I did know that I now had another suspect to consider.
Chapter 20
Gemma appeared shortly after Karidee’s departure and I told her about finding the young woman behind the reception desk.
“What in the world was she doing back here?” Gemma asked with a frown, surveying the area behind the desk.
“I’m really not sure,” I said.
“Nothing appears to be missing or moved.” Gemma released a heavy sigh. “That girl is obsessed with Linnea Bliss. On the upside, with Ms. Bliss leaving today, Karidee shouldn’t have a reason to sneak around here any longer.”
“So Linnea’s still here?” I asked. “I was hoping to see her before she goes.”
“She and her brother had a late breakfast and now she’s upstairs in her room, packing.” Gemma lifted the receiver from the phone. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I thanked Gemma and took a seat on the lobby’s settee. A moment later, Gemma informed me that Linnea would be down shortly.
“I’ve seen Jan Finch here a lot lately,” I said. I figured I might as well try to get some information while I waited. “Have you been having a lot of plumbing troubles?”
“Not a lot, no,” Gemma said. “There was a leaky faucet in one of the guest bathrooms that Jan fixed with no problem, but there’s an issue down in the laundry room that’s been taking more time. Jan had to order in a new part for one of the washing machines, and then when it arrived, it wasn’t the right one. So she’s been back and forth a lot.”
“I guess the leaky faucet was just the other day,” I said.
“No, that was last week. She’s only been working down in the basement lately.”
Or so Gemma thought. No wonder Jan had seemed shifty when I’d spotted her coming down the stairs the other day. As I’d suspected, she didn’t have a legitimate reason to be in that part of the hotel.
But why was she sneaking around the manor?
I didn’t have time to puzzle over that question right then. Linnea descended the stairway to the lobby and smiled at me. I jumped up from the settee to greet her.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“Better than the last time we spoke,” Linnea said. “It’s helped my spirits to have my brother here, and I’m looking forward to getting home.”
“I hope the trip goes smoothly. I wanted to make sure I had a chance to say goodbye and to thank you again for visiting the Inkwell. I’m so sorry your time in Shady Creek took such a terrible turn.”
Linnea clasped one of my hands in both of hers. “I enjoyed the event at your pub and I truly appreciate all the kindness you’ve shown me. Despite what happened to Marcie, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure has been all mine,” I assured her.
She squeezed my hand before letting it go and addressing Gemma. “My brother’s taking the luggage out the back way to the car. I’d like to check out now, if that’s convenient.”
“Of course,” Gemma said.
I bid goodbye to Linnea and slipped out the front door. When I reached the back of the hotel, I searched for Judson, but he’d finished mowing the lawn. The expanse of green grass was neatly trimmed and the grounds were quiet, the rumble of the lawn tractor’s motor now absent. I thought I might have to give up on my plan of talking to Judson, until I spotted a shed near the back of the parking lot, tucked between some tall trees which almo
st hid it from sight.
The shed’s double doors stood open and I could see someone moving about inside. Figuring it was most likely the gardener, I struck off across the grass, noting that Jan’s van was once again parked in the lot. I couldn’t help but wonder if the plumbing issue in the laundry room was really as troublesome as Jan had led Gemma to believe. Maybe Jan had fabricated more issues than really existed, giving her an excuse to keep coming back to the manor to do . . . whatever it was she was doing when she was creeping around the upper floors of the hotel.
As I got closer to the shed, I saw that I was right in thinking it was Judson moving around inside the structure. He’d parked the lawn tractor in the middle of the shed and was sorting through some tools on a workbench.
He either heard or saw me coming, because he stepped out of the shed’s shadowy interior to meet me. “Hey, Sadie. What brings you out this way?”
“I wanted to say goodbye to Linnea before she left, and I thought I’d ask a few questions while I’m here.”
“I’ve heard you’re Shady Creek’s own Nancy Drew,” Judson said with a grin.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, although I found the comparison flattering. I’d been a Nancy Drew fan for almost as long as I could remember. “But I am trying to find out whatever I can about Marcie’s murder.”
Judson sobered. “I still can’t believe that really happened, and at the same time I can’t shake the memory of her lying there . . .” He trailed off, his eyes haunted.
“I know,” I said with understanding. “I’ve been having the same problem.”
Judson ran the back of his hand across his forehead. “So, have you found out anything?”
“Not a lot,” I admitted. “I was wondering if you’d seen or heard anything the day Marcie died.”
“I heard her awful scream. That’s what sent me running around the front of the manor.”
“That’s what brought me running too. But what about earlier in the day? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”
“The cops asked me that too, but I haven’t been able to think of anything.” He stared out over the grounds for a moment, as if searching through his memory. “I was working on these flowerbeds until the rain settled in.” He pointed at the garden behind the hotel. “I don’t remember seeing anyone except a few people who work here coming and going through the back doors. Once it started pouring, I was over here in the shed cleaning off my tools. The rain didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon, so I was going to pack up and head home. That’s when I heard the scream.”
I knew neither of us wanted to dwell on what we’d found after hearing Marcie’s scream, so I quickly steered the conversation in a slightly different direction.
“How well did you get to know Marcie before she died?”
He seemed puzzled by the question. “I didn’t.”
“The only reason I ask is because I noticed her talking to you one day, and I thought it looked like she might be flirting with you.”
The confusion cleared from Judson’s face. “Sure, she did come over and talk to me one day while I was working. And I guess you wouldn’t be wrong to say she was flirting. I was polite, but I didn’t encourage her. I love my job here and I don’t want to jeopardize it by getting too friendly with any of the guests. I don’t think the Honeywells would approve of that.”
I thought he was probably right.
“Besides,” he added, “Marcie was a bit young for me and not really my type.”
“So you didn’t learn anything about her?”
“Other than the fact that she liked red roses and chrysanthemums, no. That’s the only conversation we ever had.”
“Did you see her have conversations with any other staff members?”
“No, but I’m outside most of the time. Unless the guests come out here, I don’t see much of them.”
That made sense, but it was disappointing. Judson seemed to be a dead end as far as finding any clues.
“How about the police investigation?” Judson asked before I could take my leave. “Any word on how that’s going?”
“No, but I hope it’s going better than my investigation.”
I thanked Judson for his time and said goodbye before heading back toward the manor. When I was halfway across the lawn, I glanced back over my shoulder and noticed Judson watching me from near the shed. Hopefully he didn’t think I was a terrible snoop for asking so many questions, but I didn’t think he’d minded.
Judson turned back to his tools and I continued on my way. I was about to cut across the parking lot to my car when I spotted Brad Honeywell at the back of the manor, speaking with a man by a delivery truck parked outside the hotel’s service entrance. I slowed my pace and watched as the deliveryman hopped into his truck and backed up the vehicle before following the driveway around the building.
When Brad turned toward the door, I broke into a jog.
“Mr. Honeywell!” I hailed him.
He stopped and squinted in my direction. “Oh, Ms. Coleman, right?” he said as I drew closer. “What can I do for you?”
I slowed to a stop, glad to find I wasn’t too out of breath from my brief sprint. “I’m curious to know how you knew Marcie Kent.”
His expression shuttered. “She was a guest here. That’s how I knew her.”
“Before that,” I said.
His eyes looked like they’d turned to stone and his mouth twisted into a cross between a grimace and a frown. “There was no before.”
“But there was,” I pressed, knowing he wouldn’t give me any information without prodding. “You were overheard arguing with her. You didn’t want her telling anyone that you had a history.”
His cheeks flushed with anger. “Who overheard us?”
The sharp and demanding edge to his question triggered warning bells in my head. I wished I hadn’t approached him alone and I wondered if we were within Judson’s sight. Would he hear if I yelled for help?
“More than one person, including me,” I said. I didn’t want to get Gina’s friend Tamara in trouble by bringing up her name.
“You must be mistaken.” Brad yanked open the door and disappeared into the manor.
I glanced around, wondering if I should follow him inside. I decided that it would likely be safe to do so, since other staff members would probably be around.
Grabbing the door before it shut completely, I dashed into the corridor that I’d followed three days ago, after speaking with Connie. I had to hurry to catch up with Brad.
“If you had an affair with Marcie, the police will find out.”
I’d spoken to his back, but he drew to a sudden stop and whirled around.
“I didn’t have an affair with her!” He checked himself, as if realizing he might be overheard. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “It was nothing like that!”
“Then what was it like?”
While keeping most of my attention on Brad, I listened for any sign that someone else might be nearby, but didn’t hear any. I took a step back, trying to look casual about it, not liking the way Brad towered over me.
He glared at me, breathing heavily through his nose, his face still flushed. He reminded me of an angry bull and I hoped he wasn’t about to charge at me. After another tense second or two, he let out an exasperated breath.
“She was a server at a corporate event I attended years ago. I had a bit of a drinking problem back then. I’d had a few too many that evening and . . . I guess you could say I hit on her. She threw a drink in my face and that was that. I didn’t even recognize her at first when she showed up here. When she jogged my memory, I asked her not to broadcast what had happened. Gemma doesn’t know about that incident. It wasn’t anything she needs to know about.”
“That’s all it was?” I asked.
“That’s all.” His face darkened. “And now that you know, you can keep it to yourself. Don’t go bothering Gemma with this.”
He didn’t add a threat, b
ut an unspoken one hung in the air between us.
“Brad, what are you doing?” Gemma’s voice startled us both.
Her husband whipped around. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Just telling Ms. Coleman a bit about the manor’s history.” He shot a piercing glance my way. “Isn’t that right, Ms. Coleman?”
“Sure,” I said without much conviction. I didn’t know if I should play along with his lie or not. All I wanted was to get away from him. Even if he hadn’t killed Marcie, I didn’t want to find myself alone with him again.
I didn’t miss the suspicion in Gemma’s eyes when I looked her way. I doubted she was buying her husband’s lie.
“I’d better be on my way now,” I said, eager to escape.
I slipped past Brad and Gemma and hurried toward the lobby. Behind me, I heard angry whispers from both Honeywells, but I didn’t hang around to attempt to eavesdrop. Brad’s intimidating demeanor had rattled me, and my plan was to get out of the hotel, hop in my car, and get back to the Inkwell. But when I was halfway across the lobby, an earsplitting shriek froze me to the spot.
My heart sank as a chill ran through my veins.
Not again, was my immediate thought.
Another shriek rang out, closer this time.
A fifty-something woman dressed in a pale pink suit appeared at the top of the curving stairway.
“Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help!”
“What’s the matter?” I asked, already climbing the stairs toward her.
She stopped halfway down the stairs, gripping the banister. Her next words confirmed my worst fear. “There’s been another murder!”
Chapter 21
“Where? Who?” I shot the questions at the distraught woman.
She pointed up the stairs. “Second floor hallway.”
Running footsteps announced the arrival of the Honeywells.
“Call 911!” I yelled down to them as I ran the rest of the way up to the second floor.
When I reached the corridor, I stopped, suddenly scared to go any farther. What if the murderer was still around?
Then I spotted the body, halfway down the hall to my left. No one else was in sight, but I could hear someone running up the stairs behind me. When I glanced back, I saw that it was Gemma. I pushed my fears aside and hurried toward the victim.
