Harper and Amanda were off somewhere together, and there was no doubt in my mind that at least one, if not both of them, was in danger.
And more importantly, one of them could be a killer.
* * *
I called Detective Johnson again, but only reached her voice mail. After leaving a message, I tried to reach Ellen, but also got no answer. Of course, she was in her car. I knew from riding with her in the past that she, like me, refused to answer her phone while driving.
I considered calling Gavin and decided against it. He was already engaged in a search and had promised to contact the police and me if he spotted the two women, or Roger Warren. I could fill him in on these new details if he called.
“The truth is,” I told Brent, as I jumped up off the bed and padded over to his portrait, “I guess I just don’t want to talk to him right now.” No, the truth is, I told myself, when I touched the picture frame before leaving the room, you do, which is a revelation you don’t like all that much, do you, Charlotte?
Not wanting to pursue this line of thought, I allowed my agitation to drive me into the kitchen, where I yanked open the refrigerator to reveal a plate of food Alicia had apparently prepared and left for me. A canary-yellow sticky note affixed to the plastic wrap read: Thought this might be appreciated.
Which it was, of course. But more than that, it was a reminder to express my gratitude to Alicia more often—not just for the dinner, but also for all the other things she did to help me keep Chapters up and running. We hadn’t started out on the best footing—I’d always assumed she thought she should’ve inherited Chapters instead of me, and suspected she saw me as a dilettante—but over time it seemed we were becoming friendly colleagues, if not actual friends.
I leaned into the open fridge for a moment, allowing the chilled interior to cool my face. My anxiety over the fate of two of my guests gnawed at me, making me restless as well as heated. Closing the refrigerator door, I decided to take a turn around the garden. While I knew I shouldn’t leave Chapters, a walk in the garden certainly wouldn’t do any harm. Since the front door was locked, Harper and Amanda, or, for that matter, Roger, would either have to wait on the front porch or come around back to find me. Either way, they wouldn’t be wandering around inside Chapters on their own. Besides, the front porch was visible to anyone passing by. Surely neither would attempt an attack where they could easily be seen.
I didn’t plan to be outside for long; just enough time to clear my head. I checked the pocket of my cotton shorts to make sure I had my phone as well as my house keys.
As a precaution, I locked the back door behind me. I didn’t typically bother with locking that door when I was in the garden, but this evening I wanted to make sure no one could slip inside Chapters unnoticed.
The wind, carrying a faint tang of salt air, offered a cooling breeze as I paced the garden’s pea gravel paths. Despite this, a trickle of perspiration rolled from my hairline to a spot between my shoulder blades, forcing me pluck my scoop neck top away from my back. From the trees, their leaves silvered with dust, bird caws and whistles wafted over my head. I kept one hand thrust in my pocket, my fingers clutched around my cell phone, as I gazed over the tapestry woven by the colorful summer flowers.
There was a peace I found in the garden that was only matched by being near or on the water. I drew in a deep breath of the perfumed air and allowed my gaze to roam from clusters of bee balm and other butterfly attracting blossoms, to a bed of culinary herbs, and then a clump of spear-like foliage from the spent irises.
This reverie was broken by the ringing sound of raised voices. Identifying them as belonging to Amanda and Harper, I instinctively decided to hide. I slipped behind a weigela bush, a well-established shrub taller than me. With its thick lattice of limbs laden with leaves it created a barrier between me and the two women entering the garden.
As I peeped out from behind my natural screen, my gaze was drawn to a flash of light. I squinted at the sunlight glinting off the surface of something Harper held in her right hand. Confused for a second, I clapped my hand over my mouth when my brain finally recognized the shiny object.
Harper was holding a gun.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I fumbled with my cell phone, pressing the button that brought it out of a snooze, glad I’d switched to silent mode. Certain that the weigela was thick enough to hide me, I was shocked to hear Harper call out my name. “Get out here, Charlotte,” she said. “Unless you want me to shoot Amanda right now.”
I stepped out from behind the bush, hands up.
“Move closer,” Harper commanded. “And toss that phone on the ground.”
Keeping my gaze fixed on Amanda, I silently complied, crawling out from behind the bush and walking close to the two women before dropping my cell phone to the ground at my feet.
“You don’t have to do this.” Amanda’s voice was astonishingly calm. I had to give her credit for remaining so cool under pressure. Meanwhile, my heart ricocheted against my ribs and my vision blurred. Afraid I was about to pass out, I flexed my knees
Amanda shared a swift look of concern with me before addressing Harper again. “As I said before, I didn’t know anything about Lisette Bradford stealing your story. If I had …”
“You’d have done the same thing.” Harper’s voice was taut as a violin string. “Because she had some sort of hold over you, didn’t she? And instead of standing up to her and dealing with whatever the fallout happened to be, you just caved and allowed her to manipulate you. Which meant the truth about how she got the ghostwriting gig based off a story she stole from me would never be revealed.”
“I keep telling you I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. If I’d known from the beginning …”
“But you did. I think you knew about Lisette stealing my story, and still let the project go forward.” Harper pressed the gun against Amanda’s temple. “I didn’t think you knew that part, not until this week. You always claimed you didn’t engage with fan fiction stuff, so I believed you were innocent on that point. Even though I knew about the ghostwriting and Lisette getting that deal based on a story she ripped off from me.” Harper lowered the gun but still kept it trained on Amanda’s head. “Molly told me when we were out shopping that she’d heard rumors about Lisette having some dirt on you, and she wondered if you or Tony could’ve killed her because of that. But she didn’t have all the pieces. She didn’t know about Lisette ghostwriting your latest book. Not until the cocktail party.”
“But you knew, didn’t you, Harper?” I asked, hoping to draw her attention away from Amanda. “And you also somehow learned that Lisette used the story she basically stole from you to land the project. After she seduced Tony to get him to put her name forward to the publisher, of course. You knew, and you argued over that with Lisette Saturday night.” I didn’t frame this as a question.
“I just wanted to talk to her. To let her know I was aware of her bad behavior. That she hadn’t simply put one over on me, like she had poor Tony.” Harper’s fierce stare didn’t falter. “What did she have on you, anyway? Must’ve been something pretty serious.”
“It was,” Amanda said. “She and I corresponded via email early in my career, and she’d saved them all. It was during a time when I was … lost.” Amanda clasped her trembling hands in front of her. “I’d gotten too famous too fast, and it didn’t feel real. Or right, I guess. Anyway, I was experiencing a serious case of impostor syndrome. I foolishly tried to manage it by sharing far too many negative comments with Lisette, who I thought was a friend.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a secret,” Harper said with a sniff.
“Doesn’t it?” Amanda’s smile was brittle as a dead leaf. “I said things about my fellow authors, my editors, my publisher, even my readers—horrible things that would destroy my career if they got out today. I thought I was being oh-so-clever and witty, but it was all just ugly attacks meant to bolster my own fragile self-esteem.”
“And Lisette threatened to expose all of that?” Harper’s face softened for a moment before she raised the gun higher again. “I don’t care, you should’ve owned up to it. That would’ve destroyed her hold over you.”
“And destroyed my career in the process,” Amanda said.
“Not necessarily. But it would’ve meant you could’ve demanded that she be dropped from the project. At least then she wouldn’t have been allowed to profit from her theft of my work.” Harper’s voice cracked like badly fired pottery. “Anyway, stupid me, I wanted to protect you at first. I believed you were just as blindsided as me, so I tried to keep you out of it. You were my idol, after all.” Harper’s lips curled into a sneer. “But Lisette confessed some of what she knew about you, at the end. And she told me about using that fan fiction story, my story, to get the contract to ghostwrite your book.”
“I didn’t realize she’d stolen anything from you, Harper. I swear.” Amanda turned her head until she was staring directly into Harper’s eyes. “I didn’t hear about any accusations of plagiarism against Lisette until this week. Of course, then I did a little digging, but all I discovered was that Lisette had been accused of stealing from another fan fiction author, who used the handle Amethyst Angel. I tried to find out who that was, but I failed. Then, this morning at breakfast I saw your pendant and put two and two together. I realized you were the author Lisette had wronged.”
The gun dipped slightly. “So you invited me on a nonexistent tour tonight to do what? Silence me somehow?”
“No, no.” Amanda took a deep breath. “I wanted to find a way to make amends.”
“Likely story.” Harper once again pressed the pistol to Amanda’s temple.
It was time to draw her attention elsewhere. “Is that why you brought the gun? Because you were afraid of what Amanda might do?” I forced myself to keep any trace of accusation out of my tone.
Harper’s gaze slid to me. “I wasn’t going to be caught unaware again. When I tried to talk to Lisette, she attacked me. I just wanted to have a civil conversation, letting her know I wasn’t fooled, but she flew at me, all nails and teeth, like some harpy.”
“And you fought back to protect yourself.” My cell phone, lying at my feet, vibrated against my sandal. Fortunately, Harper didn’t notice.
“Yes, I struck her. What else was I supposed to do?” Harper’s hand remained steady. She obviously knew how to handle a gun, which was not a particularly reassuring thought.
“After she attacked you, which makes it self-defense, not murder,” Amanda said, hope brightening her voice. “Just tell the police the truth and it can all be cleared up.”
“Be quiet,” Harper snapped. “It was an accident, but I covered it up. I know what that means.”
“You just panicked,” I said, in the voice usually reserved for de-escalating student altercations. “Anyone would understand that.”
A sharp bark of laughter escaped Harper’s lips. “Sure, because no one is ever falsely accused or convicted.”
“We can vouch for you.” While her tone retained a soothing sweetness, Amanda’s rigid jawline and glassy eyes betrayed her fear.
Harper lowered her dark lashes, veiling her pale eyes. “You say that now. But just like before, I’m sure you won’t risk your own interests to support or defend me when it comes down to it.”
“I would have, if I’d known the truth and known what Lisette had done to you,” Amanda said.
“Don’t give me that crap. You were perfectly happy to keep things quiet, even after learning that Lisette was a plagiarist. You didn’t care anything about someone as unimportant as Amethyst Angel.” Harper pulled back the gun and stared at the author with disdain. “You didn’t lift a finger when you thought it was just some poor, random writer who’d been wronged. You only cared when you knew it was me, and only then because you were afraid I’d share your secrets with the world. Of course, the irony is that I didn’t really know anything about what Lisette was holding over you, while you knew plenty that could’ve derailed all of Lisette’s plans.”
I considered tackling Harper, but decided that was foolish. She was shorter than me, but obviously strong and fit. Not to mention, she had a gun. Even if I could knock off her aim, she might still be able to fire off a shot that would harm Amanda, or me.
Amanda wiped a bubble of spittle from the corner of her mouth. “I swear I had no knowledge about any of this until this week. And I certainly didn’t know that the story Lisette used to secure the ghostwriting contract was stolen from someone else. As soon as I realized the truth, I was determined to somehow right that wrong. Which is why I lied about this evening. I wanted a chance to talk to you somewhere away from crowds.” Her gaze flickered over to me, “And away from the B and B, because I’d noticed Charlotte being far too observant about too many things. I just thought the cemetery would be the perfect spot.”
“You didn’t realize it would be closed by the time you got there, I guess,” I said, as my phone vibrated against my foot again.
Amanda gave a little shake of her head. “I had no idea. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to deceive Harper. I just noticed a mention of a ghost tour and didn’t check into the details.”
“You wanted to get me alone so you could threaten me,” Harper said, nudging Amanda’s shoulder with the pistol. “Admit it.”
“Not at all. I only asked you to come with me this evening so I could talk to you in private; to allow us to work something out between us with no outside interference.” A few more cracks in Amanda’s stoic demeanor had appeared—her left eye twitched and a sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead and upper lip. But her voice remained calm.
Harper, on the other hand, was sweating profusely, and her free hand shook so violently she shoved it into the pocket of her denim shorts. “But now we have a bigger problem. You both know I killed Lisette. Accidentally, but still …”
I bit my lip to avoid blurting out the truth—the police knew as well, or at least they were aware of my suspicions and would follow up on them. There was no way out for Harper, but I couldn’t let her know that. It might cause her to take immediate and drastic action. We had to keep her talking, at least until the authorities arrived.
Amanda appeared to have reached the same conclusion. “It was self-defense. And if Charlotte and I don’t press charges over this little misunderstanding, you won’t be in that much trouble. Why not put the gun away and end all this? We can have that serious conversation about more positive things, like future book collaborations. I still need a ghostwriter, you know.”
Another burst of manic laughter escaped Harper’s chapped lips. “Sure, as if that’s going to happen now. What publisher would want to hire me after this? No, it’s all over.” She lowered the arm holding the pistol. “It’s all over now.”
Watching the anger that suffused her face dissolve into despair, a new danger flared in my mind. Harper might not shoot Amanda or me. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do something else equally drastic, like take her own life.
The barrel of the gun was pointing toward the ground. This was my chance. I lunged forward, prepared to knock the weapon from Harper’s hand, but she was too quick for me. She swung up her arm, shoving the pistol into my chest.
A vision of Brent’s smiling face filled my mind. Might see you soon, I thought, as Harper shouted for me to back off.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a monarch butterfly. It flitted past my ear and landed on my shoulder, orange and black wings outstretched.
Not an angel, I thought, as a sense of detachment swept over me. But maybe the next best thing.
The butterfly appeared to have distracted Harper. She instinctively lowered the gun as she stared at its fluttering wings. It was only a moment’s reprieve, but it was enough.
Just long enough for Gavin to leap the fence between Ellen’s garden and mine.
I grimaced, thinking of the thorns that must’ve pierced his skin when he vaulted over the rose-dr
aped barrier. But this thought was swept away as he shoved me to one side, sending me tumbling to the ground while he rushed forward to deal with Harper.
Ellen, who’d come from the same direction, but obviously used the gate, also ran into the garden, her speed belying her age.
While Ellen pulled Amanda out of range, Gavin grappled with Harper, grasping and twisting her wrist to force her to drop the gun. He then pulled her hands behind her back with an efficiency that told me he’d done something similar many times before.
The wail of police sirens filled the air. “I called them,” Ellen said, as she strolled over to help me to my feet. “You weren’t answering your phone, for me or Gavin. We found that a trifle disturbing and decided we’d better head on back to Chapters to check on you.”
“Thank goodness,” I said, brushing some pea gravel from my bare knees. I was going to suffer from a few scratches and bruises, but that was a small price to pay. Glancing up, I followed the flight of the monarch as it lazily sailed away. “Thank you,” I said softly, repeating this sentiment in a louder voice when I turned my gaze on Gavin and Ellen.
“We’ll take over from here,” Detective Johnson said, as she strode into the garden followed by several uniformed officers.
Gavin kept his hold on Harper until she was secured by the police. She remained silent as she was escorted to a waiting cruiser, but in the tears cascading down her cheeks I could read the truth—she’d finally realized the tragic denouement of her own story.
“We’ll need statements,” Detective Johnson said. “So please stay put until we can deal with that, but then you can all get some much-deserved rest.” She stared at Gavin, who’d wiped his hand on his shorts, leaving a trail of blood. “Any of you need medical attention?”
“Just a few scratches from thorns,” Gavin said, holding up his hands. “Minor stuff.”
“I’m fine,” Amanda managed to say before she burst into tears.
Ellen put her arm around Amanda’s shaking shoulders and hugged her close. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me,” Ellen told the detective.
Reserved for Murder Page 24
