Reserved for Murder

by Victoria Gilbert

  I leaned my hip into the bullnose edge of the soapstone counter. “You didn’t notice a strange car parked in the lot or out front?”

  “No, I reckon he must have parked around the corner or something. So when I walked in and heard voices, I was shocked, and more than a little worried.”

  “I would guess so.” I examined Alicia’s face, noting the concern in her dark eyes. “How do you know it’s the same man if you never met?”

  “Because I saw him. I heard those voices, Isabella’s and some man’s, and I grabbed a kitchen knife …”

  I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. I probably would’ve done the same.

  “… then sneaked down the hall to the parlor, where they were talking.” Alicia met my intent gaze with a lift of her chin. “You know how that door has those fancy hinges, so there’s a goodly gap between the door and the frame? Anyway, it allowed me to hang back against the wall and still peek into the room.”

  “And you saw the man now staying with Ellen?”

  “Clear as a summer day,” Alicia said in a triumphant tone.

  “Did you hear what they were talking about?”

  “Not really. I mean, I heard him say something about protecting her friends right before Isabella ordered him to leave the house.” Alicia cast me a knowing look. “I scurried on back to the kitchen at that, because when Isabella issued a command, it was likely to be obeyed. Which it was, from the sound of footsteps on the floorboards and doors opening and slamming.”

  “What did you do next?”

  “Waited a few minutes, then”—Alicia grimaced—“opened and closed the door to the back porch as loudly as I could, so anyone would think I’d just come inside. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like deceiving Isabella that way, but something told me I shouldn’t let her know I’d seen that guy, or heard anything of their conversation.” She pulled off her hairnet and crumpled it in one hand. “Which, as I said, I really didn’t.”

  I snapped the lid down on the plastic container I’d been filling and carried it over to the refrigerator. Leaning back against the refrigerator door after closing it, I faced Alicia. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t know what it means, but I think we should keep an eye on Mr. Howard, just to be safe.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.” Alicia snatched up the yellow plastic gloves and tucked them behind the dish rack. “Always seemed peculiar to me, and now that he’s claiming to be Ellen’s cousin, well, I just don’t know. Why would any relative of Ellen’s pop in to talk to Isabella when no one else was around, including Ellen?”

  “That is strange,” I said, my mind reeling from this new revelation. Gavin Howard definitely wasn’t just any agent looking into something from the past. He’d actually interacted directly with my great-aunt at least once. “But Ellen is going along with the cousin story. Maybe there’s a good reason?”

  “I’d like to hear it, if there is.” Alicia turned back to the sink. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know, in case Ellen was in trouble or something. You know there are younger men who like to scam old ladies, so I thought I should alert you. Two sets of eyes are better than one and all that.”

  “Agreed,” I said, smothering the laugh that had bubbled up at the thought of any man, young or otherwise, duping Ellen Montgomery. “Unless you need me to do anything else, I’m off to bed. Well, to my room to read, anyway.”

  Alicia waved me off. “No problem. I’ll be finished here in a minute and plan to head on up to bed myself after that.”

  I wished her a good evening before escaping to my room. After mulling over Alicia’s comments about Gavin, it took a while for my mind to focus, and just as I found myself enjoying the world created by Mary Stewart in her classic romantic suspense novel, Airs Above the Ground, the jangle of my cell phone pulled me back to reality.

  “Sorry to bother you so late again,” Detective Johnson said, “but I felt it was important to give you a warning. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to bring him in for questioning yet, but William Bradford has been spotted in the area.”

  “Billy Bradford is still hanging around Beaufort?” I asked, with a glance at my bedroom windows. I’d need to make sure they were locked as soon as I got off the phone. As well as check all the doors and windows in the rest of the house, I thought, with a sigh.

  “Yes, we’ve had some credible sightings. We’re actively trying to track him down, of course, but I wanted to put you on notice in case he decides to return to Chapters. If you see or hear anything, please call me at this number, no matter the time.”

  “I will.” I considered the information Damian and others had recently shared with me. “And if you have a minute, I’d like to inform you about some things I’ve discovered over the last couple of days.”

  “Thanks for that,” Detective Johnson said, when I finished filling her in on what I’d learned. “We’d gotten some of the same info from Mr. Kepler and Mr. Carr, but hadn’t received anything on that fan war yet.”

  “Harper Gregg didn’t mention it?”

  “Not to my knowledge. But we have another meeting with her scheduled for tomorrow. Perhaps she was waiting until then to share that information.”

  “It does open up the field of suspects, I’m afraid.”

  “Unfortunately. Especially since many of the fan club members could’ve been in Beaufort for your event, and who knows how many stayed over Saturday night.” There was a brief pause before the detective spoke again. “I wonder if I could ask a favor?”

  “Of course. As long as it doesn’t require putting myself, or anyone else, in danger again.”

  “It shouldn’t. I just remember how well you and Ms. Montgomery handled yourselves during that murder investigation last year, and wondered if perhaps you’d be willing to be of assistance again?”

  I stared at my phone for a second before answering. The idea set off a frisson of excitement in me—which I wasn’t sure was a good thing. “In what way?”

  “Simply be my eyes and ears when you’re around your current guests. Since Molly Zeleski has returned to her home, we’re working with the Morehead City police to keep tabs on her, but I thought perhaps you and Ms. Montgomery could watch Ms. Nobel, Mr. Lott, and Ms. Gregg. Not that I want you to pump them for information, but if you were to overhear anything related to the case …”

  “I’ll l be happy to pass along any relevant information,” I said, glad her request didn’t involve anything more intrusive. While I wanted to help the police, I wasn’t comfortable directly interrogating my guests. “And I can talk to Ellen about assisting with a few pertinent questions. I haven’t canceled the tea party I planned for Friday afternoon yet. That is an intimate affair, only involving Ms. Nobel and the fans who were supposed to be staying at Chapters. I could invite Ellen to that event, as well as the cocktail party scheduled for later that day. Perhaps it will seem more natural if she asks some pertinent questions rather than me. I mean, she has the background to do it in a way that won’t be perceived as odd.”

  “Which is why I mentioned her in the first place. She does have a unique set of skills. Even more than you probably know.”

  “Oh?” I wondered what Detective Johnson had been able to discover about my enigmatic neighbor. Undoubtedly, her law enforcement connections would’ve unearthed more than my feeble attempts at research, which so far had yielded nothing. But of course, she wasn’t going to share classified information with me. “All right, I’ll talk to Ellen tomorrow, and perhaps set up some sort of get-together where she could chat informally with my guests.” As long as Gavin Howard stays out of the picture, I thought, but decided not to share that concern. Detective Johnson seemed to know too much about Ellen already. At least, more than I thought Ellen would be happy to share.

  After Detective Johnson hung up, I debated calling Ellen immediately. But it was late, and there was nothing we could do at the moment. It would keep until tomorrow. For now, I needed to walk around Chapters to make sure the house was properly secured against Billy
Bradford or any other intruder.

  I made the rounds through the ground floor first, double-checking every door and window. With that task completed, I climbed the stairs to the second floor. Of course, I didn’t think anyone could easily access the upper-level windows, but we did have a fire escape built against one side of the house. It was possible that a determined intruder could use those metal stairs to climb to the second floor, even if the final steps were a ladder pulled up so it didn’t touch the ground.

  As I made my way to the fire escape door at the end of the hall, raised voices stopped me in my tracks. They were coming from the Mystery Suite, where I’d placed Amanda Nobel.

  I slipped closer to the suite and pressed my ear against the door. Yes, I was eavesdropping, but the loud voices, combined with Detective Johnson’s request for surveillance, overcame my scruples. I’d already identified the voices as belonging to Amanda and Tony. Given their less than cordial relationship, clearly evidenced at the book club meeting, I was curious to discover the reason for their argument.

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Amanda’s voice cracked on the final word.

  “No more so than you accusing me of killing someone,” Tony replied, his words staccato as bullets.

  I clasped my hands together to stop their shaking. Amanda obviously believed that Tony had some motive to murder Lisette, but what?

  “You have a reason. I don’t,” Amanda said.

  Tony’s laugh was as sharp as one of Shandy’s barks. “Since when is jealously not a motive for murder?”

  “You really think I’m jealous?” Amanda’s peal of laughter was edged with mania. “Why would you think that? I agreed to the scheme without hesitation, remember?”

  “But maybe you decided differently when you really saw it come to fruition,” Tony said. “Maybe it rankled that you couldn’t change your mind, when all was said and done.”

  “No, and no.” The tapping of heels across the wooden floorboards alerted me that Amanda was approaching the door. “It’s time for you to go, Tony. I’m too exhausted to have this discussion with you right now.”

  “Not exactly a discussion, more like an attack,” he replied, before stomping toward the door.

  I scooted away, hurrying down the hall to reach the fire exit before the Mystery Suite door flew open and Tony strode out.

  I was prepared to offer up my excuse of checking the locks, but Tony didn’t even glance in my direction. He simply marched to his adjacent room and entered, slamming the door behind him.

  Amanda poked her head around the door to her suite. Catching sight of me at the end of the hall, she lifted her hand in greeting and replaced her angry frown with a smile. “Oh, hello, Charlotte. What brings you upstairs at this time of night?”

  “Just checking the doors,” I said, tapping the fire escape door for emphasis. Of course, for safety reasons, the guests had to be able to push open the door from the inside at all times, but an indicator on the door showed it was secured against anyone trying to enter from outside. “Can’t be too careful these days.”

  “I doubt we really need to worry, but I appreciate your diligence,” Amanda said, her blue eyes narrowing.

  I plastered on a smile I hoped didn’t look as false as it felt. “Well, good night, then,” I said, walking closer to her room.

  “Good night,” she replied shortly before shutting her door in my face.

  I stared at the plain oak door for a moment. She suspects I heard something. I wonder why that seems to have upset her so? Perhaps because there is something to Tony’s jealousy claim after all?

  Descending the stairs, I allowed my fingers to slide along the railing, worn to a satin finish by a multitude of hands over many years. But what reason would Amanda Nobel, bestselling novelist with a popular television adaptation, have to feel envious of Lisette Bradford? Or, for that matter, what would’ve been Tony’s motive to kill Lisette? Amanda seems to think there’s something, and they did display a level of mutual animosity …

  I puzzled over these questions as I made my way back to my bedroom. Crossing to the window that looked out over the back yard, I caught a glimpse of movement.

  Someone was walking across the back patio. Not really a crime, and not that unusual—I’d caught inquisitive tourists, hoping to get a better look at Chapters’s enclosed garden, doing the same thing many times. But it was late for anyone to be wandering off the streets of Beaufort, especially in a residential area.

  The figure looked male, but with a black hoodie and their back to me it was hard to be sure. I squinted as I peered out the window, hoping to get a better look. Finally, the visitor turned and took two steps toward the house, setting off the automatic floodlight on the back porch. The dark-clad stranger ducked their head. But I caught a glimpse of hair falling over a pale brow—light brown curls turned to gold by the wash of light.

  It was Gavin Howard. There could be no mistake. Possessed by some inexplicable urge born out of fascination mixed with fury, I rapped the window glass with my knuckles.

  Gavin jumped back, staring up at my window. The surprise on his face was immediately replaced by his typical calm expression. He lifted one hand and waved, as if loitering on my back patio late at night was nothing that should concern me.

  I didn’t wave in response, choosing to yank my white eyelet curtains across the window panes instead.

  Gavin was investigating something connected to the past and my late great-aunt. Something that had ties to national security, despite the decades that separated Isabella’s espionage work from current affairs. Like the conversation I’d overheard between Amanda Nobel and Tony Lott, it didn’t make any sense. At least, not yet.

  But I was determined to unravel both these mysteries, if I could. With or without Ellen’s help. I might only be a Watson, but like that fictional character, what I lacked in deductive brilliance, I made up for in sheer determination and persistence.

  Besides, I thought, as I padded over to my bed, you taught high school for years before taking over Chapters.

  If there was anything likely to toughen someone up and teach them how to play a long game, dealing with a classroom full of high-energy, hormonal, sometimes oppositional, teenagers was definitely it.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning all the guests left after breakfast to take advantage of the boat tour I’d arranged as part of their stay. I wasn’t expecting them to continue to follow this agenda after everything that had happened, but once Amanda declared her intention to participate in the tour, the others followed her lead. Before they departed, Harper told me that she’d gotten a text from Molly, who was driving over to Beaufort to join them. I almost warned her to be extra careful around Molly, but closed my lips over the words just in time. Ellen and I might have placed Molly near the top of our suspect list, but that didn’t mean that she was actually a danger to anyone.

  While everyone was away, I stood at the sink, enjoying the solitude of the quiet house while mentally trying to pick apart the tangle of clues. My musing was broken by Alicia striding through the kitchen on her way outside.

  “By the way, there’s something I forgot to mention.” Alicia paused at the door to the back porch. She had the day off, which was why I was cleaning up after a simple breakfast of her premade cinnamon rolls and other baked goods.

  “What is it?” I asked, rinsing a glass platter before setting it in the dish rack.

  “It’s that Gavin Howard character again. He knocked on the back door while you were serving the guests in the dining room. I talked to him briefly on the porch.”

  “What did he want?” I yanked out the stopper to drain the soapy water in the sink.

  “To speak with you, apparently. I told him you were busy and to return later this afternoon, because no one would be around this morning.” She adjusted the strap of the large leather purse slung over her shoulder. “I hope I did right. I know the guests will be gone most of the day and figured you’d probabl
y be out this morning, picking up things at the market.”

  “That was my plan.” I dried my hands on a kitchen towel as I met her concerned gaze. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him in the house if I’m alone.”

  “Good idea. I’m having dinner with family, so I won’t be back until late. Better not to let any strangers in, what with murderers running around.” Alicia raised her hand in a quick goodbye before leaving the kitchen.

  I finished cleaning up the kitchen as I considered my next move. Alicia’s comments about Gavin had me questioning why he was interested in our schedules. Given Ellen’s warning about Gavin probably wanting a chance to search Chapters, I couldn’t discount the possibility that he might break in while he thought everyone was out of the house.

  Looking to set a trap, I decided to keep to my plan and left in my car, as if going to the market. But I actually only drove around town for about ten minutes, then headed back to Chapters.

  Parking on the street so I could quickly return to complete my errands, I slipped inside through the front door. As soon as I stepped into the hall, I stopped short. The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent house.

  The noise was coming from upstairs. I pulled out my cell phone before setting my purse down on a side table. Clutching the phone, I slipped off my sandals and climbed the stairs as quietly as possible. I knew that there could be a simple answer to this unnerving occurrence. Perhaps one of the guests had changed their mind about the boat tour and returned to Chapters. But I had to make sure. I had to see if my trap had worked.

  When I reached the second floor the footsteps thumped again—louder this time, and still over my head. Someone was in the attic.

  The door to the attic stairs stood slightly ajar, which was another warning sign. I debated whether I should call the police. I always kept that door locked to prevent anyone from accessing the third floor, which was an unfinished attic filled with tripping hazards like old trunks and boxes. Lacking air conditioning and decent lighting, it wasn’t a space I visited often, and I certainly didn’t want any of my guests messing around up there.