by Sarah Fox
“Did you find the treasure?” I asked again. Despite the peril I was facing, I still wanted to know.
“Finally,” Connie said, the word colored with anger. “If Marcie had told me where she’d found it, I could have been out of here ages ago.”
“Marcie found it first?”
“And decided to leave it hidden in the wall of the secret staircase for safe keeping. But not before taking a few items to get appraised.”
“But she never had a chance,” I guessed.
“Because I caught her,” Connie said with a self-satisfied smirk. “I’d seen her sneaking around more than once, and I saw her coming out of the unoccupied third-floor guest room the day before. When I slipped away to do some searching myself, I ran into her right after she’d found the treasure. But she’d already hidden most of it away again.”
“And when she wouldn’t tell you where, you fought with her.”
“You love connecting the dots, don’t you?”
I ignored her question to ask another of my own, still trying to buy time to get out of my predicament. “How did you get away on the day of Marcie’s death without Gemma noticing?”
“She was blabbing on the phone with her sister. I knew she’d be hours. She always is once they get gabbing. And she wasn’t paying any attention to me. Marcie’s scream nearly ruined things for me, though. I had to get down the secret staircase on the double so I could pretend I was in the linen closet when I heard her scream. The whole thing was a risk, but it was worth taking. Leaving you around to rat me out isn’t.”
Her eyes took on a hard glint and I knew I was out of time. I didn’t have many options, so I decided to take the only course of action I could think of at that moment.
When Connie moved as if to grab my arm, I charged at her, crashing into her with my left shoulder and sending her flying into one of the toilet stalls. I didn’t waste time checking to see if she fell. I yanked open the door and burst out into the hallway.
I automatically turned to the right, heading for the lobby, but my shoes screeched against the floor as I came to a sliding halt.
Hawk Man stood twenty feet away, blocking my escape route.
My fear rocketed skyward. He smirked, making him even more menacing, and started toward me. I spun around and ran in the other direction. The restroom door crashed open a split second after I passed it.
“Get her!” Connie yelled as footsteps pounded behind me.
“Help!” I screamed as I ran, hoping someone from the party would hear me.
The corridor dead-ended at a locked door. I rattled the knob, but it wouldn’t budge.
The masked man was gaining on me. I backtracked a few feet and practically threw myself into the linen closet, slamming the door shut behind me. I lunged at the far wall and pressed my hand against it over and over, on the verge of panicking. Why had Grayson and I returned to shut the secret door?
On the fourth try, I got the right spot and the paneling slid away. I grabbed my skirt and ducked through the door. The narrow stairway rose ahead of me, into the darkness. I didn’t want to break my neck, so I kicked off my shoes and hoisted up my skirt, keeping one hand on the wall as I climbed as fast as I dared.
I heard running footsteps below me. Then there was a thud and a man cursed.
He’d probably tripped over my shoes.
That didn’t buy me more than a second or two. Far too soon, he was thumping up the stairs behind me.
I stubbed my toe and a sharp sliver dug into the hand I was running along the wall, but I didn’t let myself slow down. I missed a step and fell, hitting my knees hard against the stairs and scraping another toe. Biting back a whimper of pain, I gathered up my dress again and kept climbing.
My lungs and legs burned, and my heart beat out a pounding rhythm in my chest. I could hear the masked man gaining on me. I tried to move faster, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate.
I fell forward and crashed into a wall. It took me half a second to realize I’d made it to the landing. I pressed my hand against the wall, trying to find the trigger point that would open the door.
Nothing happened.
I tried again, and again.
I could hear the harsh breaths of the masked man, far too close and drawing closer.
I kept pressing my hand to the wall. Finally, I was rewarded with a click.
The panels slid aside and I dove through the opening, landing on my knees on soft carpet. I scrambled to my feet, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t alone in the room.
“He’s after me!” I pointed at the secret door.
The surprise on Detective Marquez’s face quickly disappeared.
As Hawk Man burst through the opening, she and Officer Rogers swooped in to grab him.
“Connie was chasing me too,” I said between gasps as I desperately tried to catch my breath. “She killed Marcie and attacked Jan.”
“We know,” Marquez said grimly.
Of course she did. Grayson had told her as much over the phone.
She yanked the mask from the man’s face.
“Connie’s husband,” I said, recognizing him from the night he was at the Inkwell with his wife.
While Rogers snapped handcuffs onto the man’s wrists, Detective Marquez strode to the door that led out to the hallway. She pulled it open and stepped out of the room.
“Hey!” She sprinted off down the hall.
I darted out the door, just in time to see her tackle Connie, who was making a run for the stairway.
Connie had probably hoped to cut off my escape route. She clearly hadn’t expected to be met by the police. I hadn’t either, but I was infinitely happy about the surprise. I didn’t think Connie and her husband felt the same way.
When I heard the handcuffs click around Connie’s wrists a moment later, I sank to the floor with relief, my shaky legs no longer willing to support me.
Chapter 34
The arrest of Connie and her husband took place with the majority of the partygoers none the wiser. Detective Marquez alerted Gemma Honeywell to what had occurred and arranged for the newly arrived police officers to enter the manor discreetly through a side entrance.
When I reached the lobby, Officer Rogers kindly retrieved my shoes for me.
As I slipped them on, Grayson came running into the lobby and took hold of my shoulders.
“Sadie, are you all right?” He turned away, but only long enough to see two police officers marching Connie and her husband down the hall.
“When I realized you weren’t in the ballroom, I went looking for you,” he continued. “But I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
Aunt Gilda rushed over. “Sadie, where have you been?” She took in my disheveled appearance. Her gaze slid to Grayson.
“I was chased by Marcie’s killer,” I said quickly, knowing her thoughts had gone in an entirely different direction.
Her eyes widened. In the next moment, Shontelle, Officer Howes, and Cordelia arrived on the scene. Detective Marquez appeared next, and questions suddenly came at me from every direction.
Fortunately, Marquez took charge and quieted everyone down. She gave my family and friends a succinct summary of what had happened, and then ushered me into the office behind the reception desk to ask me questions.
I explained everything, except the fact that Grayson and I had snooped through the locked drawer in the other office. I made it sound like we decided to explore the manor for hidden passageways on a whim, and had lucked out by finding the hidden doorway in the linen closet. Luckily, she seemed to buy that story.
As I gave her my account of the events, I removed a splinter from my hand and wiggled my sore toes. I counted my lucky stars, knowing I could have endured far worse than a splinter and a couple of stubbed toes.
Once I had answered all of the detective’s questions, I met up with Aunt Gilda and my friends in the lobby again.
Aunt Gilda pulled me into a fierce hug. “Please tell me you’re all right,” she said as she squeeze
d me tight.
“I am,” I assured her. “A little shaken up, but otherwise fine.”
When she released me, Shontelle moved in for a hug.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said. “I never should have let you out of my sight.”
I laughed, though a bit shakily. “That probably wouldn’t have stopped me from finding trouble.” I regarded her more closely. “But where were you?”
“Eldon and I went for a walk in the gardens,” she said quietly so only I’d hear.
“And?”
She smiled. “And nothing, but we’re going out for dinner next week.”
I gave her a squeeze, happy to know something positive had come from the evening.
Cordelia was next in line for a hug, but then everyone seemed satisfied that I was in one piece.
I clapped a hand over my mouth as a big yawn escaped me. Apparently, getting chased by a killer and her husband was more than a little tiring.
Grayson put a hand to my back, concern in his blue eyes. “You’ve been through a lot. Do you want to go home?”
“Gosh no,” I said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “I haven’t sampled the desserts yet and I’m suddenly starving.”
Chapter 35
A week after the masquerade, the sun shone brightly and the birds chirped and twittered in the trees. Standing out on the village green, with the sun warming my face, the events at Shady Creek Manor seemed almost like a bad dream. Almost, but not quite.
At least Connie was in jail now, where she belonged. Her husband was too, though he faced less serious charges than his wife.
I’d had a long chat with Linnea over the phone. She’d spoken with Marcie’s family and she believed I was right in thinking that Marcie had learned about the legend of the Vallencourt treasure while doing research for Linnea’s latest book. Linnea also suspected that Marcie had wanted to find the treasure so she could help out her parents. Her father had been seriously ill the year before and the family had been suffocating beneath an overwhelming pile of medical bills.
As for Jan, she’d finally admitted that she’d been searching the manor for the treasure after finding the blueprints in the basement. She’d hoped to sell any valuables she found so she could use the money to fund the Happy Paws Cat Shelter.
I didn’t know who would end up with the Vallencourt treasure, which apparently consisted of Edwin’s mother’s jewelry and some valuable rare coins. Would Jan’s mother get to share it with Edwin’s other descendants? Would the Honeywells have a claim to it because they currently owned the manor?
I’d heard plenty of chatter about the subject over the past week, but I hadn’t spent much time speculating on the matter myself. I was too focused on trying to put the recent unpleasant events behind me.
My current activity was helping with that. I was strolling across the village green, hand in hand with Grayson. We’d met up with the intention to plan a Craft Nation viewing party, but so far all we’d done was enjoy each other’s company. I was still trying to keep a tight rein on my heart, not wanting it to get in too deep too quickly, but I suspected I was fighting a losing battle. It felt too good, too right, to have Grayson at my side, my hand in his.
Far ahead of us, over on Hillview Road, Eleanor left the general store, a shopping bag in hand. No doubt she’d be skipping the viewing party. I didn’t hold a grudge against her for her opposition, though. I’d found out a few days earlier that her aversion to alcohol stemmed from the fact that she’d grown up with an alcoholic father. Apparently, the family had tried to keep that under wraps, but most people who’d lived in Shady Creek back then knew about it nonetheless.
The sight of Eleanor reminded me of the visit Grayson and I had paid to the museum.
“Did you ever read any of Eleanor’s book?” I asked Grayson as we passed through the shade cast by a large evergreen tree.
“Cover to cover,” he said, surprising me.
“Really? Was it interesting?” Somehow I had trouble imagining Eleanor writing a captivating book.
“Interesting would be one word for it,” Grayson said.
“Meaning?”
“It was dry reading, but she certainly wrote about Edwin Vallencourt in glowing terms.”
“How factually correct do you think the book is?” I asked, remembering how Marcie had pointed out what she thought was an inaccuracy.
“That particular chapter, probably not very. I’ve heard stories about Edwin Vallencourt over the years since I moved here, ones that suggest he wasn’t squeaky clean, and she makes no reference to any of that in the book. So I did a little digging of my own.”
“What did you find out?” I asked, knowing he’d found something.
“That Eleanor most likely glossed over the facts about Edwin. The rest of the book might be more accurate, though.”
“But why would she put Edwin Vallencourt on a pedestal? I would have thought she’d disapprove of a party animal like him.”
“That’s what I thought too.” He drew to a stop and pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his jeans. “But check this out.”
He pulled up a black-and-white photo on his phone. It showed a group of about a dozen young men and women, probably in their twenties and thirties, casually grouped together on the lawn in front of the manor.
Grayson pointed to a man with thick dark hair, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hands in his pockets.
“That’s Edwin Vallencourt,” Grayson said. “And that”—he pointed to a fair-haired woman, probably a good ten years younger than Edwin, who had her arm looped around his as she gazed up at him adoringly—“is Clementina Winters.”
“That name doesn’t ring a bell.” She didn’t look familiar either.
“She’s Eleanor’s mother.”
“Really?” I took another good look at the photo. I couldn’t see any resemblance to Eleanor, but maybe when she was younger she’d looked more like her mother did in the picture. Something else struck me about the photo. “Clementina was in love with Edwin.”
“That’s what I thought too.” Grayson tucked his phone back in his pocket and took my hand again. We resumed walking slowly across the grass. “Clementina came from a well-respected family in Shady Creek, and that photo is the only evidence I could find that she ever had anything to do with Vallencourt, so I suspect it wasn’t common knowledge that she spent time with him.”
“If she managed to keep the fact that she was in love with him a secret in this town, I’m very impressed.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t last long,” Grayson said. “By all accounts, Edwin went through women like smokers go through cigarettes. And a few weeks after this photo was taken, Clementina married Joseph Hallman.”
“A few weeks? I could have sworn she was in love with Edwin from the way she was gazing at him. That’s not much time to turn around and marry someone else.”
“And seven months after that, Eleanor was born.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Hold on, are you saying that Edwin Vallencourt was Eleanor’s father?”
“I’m saying it’s a possibility.”
I took a moment to absorb that information. “Wow. That could explain things. She sure doesn’t seem to like anyone saying a bad word about Edwin.” I paused. “And yet, she’d never admit that she’s his daughter, even if that’s the case and she knows it. She’s too hung up on being prim and proper to want people to know she was conceived out of wedlock, even though that’s not such a big deal anymore.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Grayson said.
“Although, I wonder if she’d bring herself to admit it if it meant she’d get some of the treasure.” I considered that for half a second. “Who does get the treasure? The Honeywells or Edwin’s heirs?”
“I’ll leave that for the lawyers to figure out,” Grayson said.
“Good plan,” I said. “Maybe we should keep our theory about Eleanor’s parentage to ourselves. The town would have a field day gos
siping about it.”
“Probably for the best,” he agreed.
“Instead, I guess they’ll keep gossiping about us, for now anyway. Half the town has been, you know.”
Grayson laughed. “I know. It’s hard to miss.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
His grin didn’t fade. “Not really. In fact”—he stopped walking—“I say, let’s really give them something to talk about.”
He pulled me close and kissed me, for all the world to see.
And I didn’t mind one bit.
Recipes
Milky Way Gargle Blaster
8 oz root beer
1 oz cream
1 oz vanilla vodka
Put some ice in a glass. Add the cream. Add the vanilla vodka and root beer. Stir.
Milky Way Gargle Blaster Mocktail
8 oz root beer
1 oz cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
Put some ice in a glass. Add the cream. Add the vanilla and root beer. Stir.
Yellow Brick Road
1 oz limoncello
4 oz yellow lemonade
4 oz lemon-lime soda
Put ice in a glass. Add the ingredients and stir.
The Malt In Our Stars
2 oz blended Scotch whiskey
1 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
6 oz ginger ale, chilled
Lemon for garnish
Fill a cocktail shaker ¾ full with ice. Add whiskey and lemon juice. Shake and strain into a glass. Top with chilled ginger ale and garnish with lemon. Optional: Serve over crushed ice.
The Red Cabbage Of Courage
Salad:
½ medium head of red cabbage, chopped
¼ cup slivered almonds, toasted
