Reserved for Murder

by Victoria Gilbert

  “No, there isn’t.” Gavin cast her an approving look before strolling over to me. “You okay too, Charlotte?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, not resisting when he pulled me into gentle embrace. “Perfectly fine,” I murmured into the folds of his cotton shirt.

  “You’re better than fine,” he whispered in my ear before lifting his head and telling Detective Johnson that he’d be glad to give a statement, but she’d have to call his bosses first.

  “Not another one,” the detective said, in an exasperated tone. But when I pulled away from Gavin and turned to look at her, she was smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The next day, Amanda checked out early, as she’d planned.

  “Thanks for everything,” she said, clasping my hand as she told me goodbye.

  I felt a pang of sympathy. Amanda had seemed like someone who had it all, but right now she looked wan and defeated. Late Saturday night, after the police had left, she’d told me she’d advised her publisher to halt the release of book thirteen in her series, pending the conclusion of the murder investigation, as well as a consideration of Lisette Bradford’s alleged plagiarism of Harper’s work. “I know the book doesn’t really contain anything that was stolen from Harper, but it just feels tainted to me. Anyway, it seems wrong to allow it to go forward, given the circumstances. I may have to regroup and write the thing myself,” she’d said, her eyes bloodshot from weeping.

  I wished her well and said I hoped she’d get a chance to write the book of her heart, sooner rather than later. She simply smiled sadly and left, walking with her slumped shoulders to meet the waiting taxi.

  With my final guest on her way to the airport and the next leg of her tour, I wandered into the kitchen to find Alicia. “Would you mind terribly if I invited a few people over for a get-together around three this afternoon?” I asked her.

  “Not if I don’t have to cook,” she replied, casting me a questioning glance.

  “You won’t. It’s going to be very casual. I’ll just use some of our leftovers from the cocktail party and whatever else I can put together.” I opened the refrigerator and examined its full shelves. “There’s plenty here to work with, and we have wine and beer, along with water and soft drinks. That should be enough.”

  “Sounds good. I’m happy to help clean up after.” Alicia slipped her apron over her head. “Just thought I might go to church this morning. After all that’s happened, I figure a few prayers wouldn’t do any harm.”

  “Say some for me too,” I said.

  “Will do.” Alicia looked me over. “I was just thinking—since we don’t have any guests this week, maybe you should take the opportunity to visit your folks or something. Get out of town for a few days. You look like you could use a change, and I don’t mind hanging around Chapters on my own.”

  I considered this for a second before offering her a warm smile. “That actually sounds like an excellent idea. Thanks.”

  Alicia turned away, busying herself pulling a few serving platters from the drying rack. “No problem.”

  I left her finishing the kitchen chores and headed into my office. It was time to catch up on some paperwork. After checking over future reservations, I scribbled a list of the people I wanted to invite for my afternoon get-together. It was primarily the book club group, although I intended to include Scott as Julie’s guest, as well as Gavin.

  Since it was still early, I knew I’d have to wait to call or text most of the group, but decided to go ahead and contact Pete and Sandy. I figured I could reach them since they had to get up at dawn to prepare for the Sunday breakfast rush at the café.

  “Afraid we’ll have to skip that free lunch,” I told Sandy when she answered the phone. “After everything that happened yesterday evening, I think I’d rather just hang out at Chapters today. But I’m throwing a little impromptu event around three PM and want you and Pete to come.”

  “We’d love to,” Sandy replied. “Especially if you’ll provide all the juicy details about whatever happened yesterday.”

  I promised I’d give a full report, or at least as much as I knew, during their visit.

  Completing some budget work took up another hour, after which I called the others on my invite list, including the Sandburg sisters, Julie and Scott, and Ellen.

  “I suppose I should bring Gavin along as well?” Ellen asked, in a perfectly innocent tone.

  “Of course. I mean, he was just as involved in this case as we were, in the end. And I guess I owe him some food and a drink or two, since I canceled our lunch at the Dancing Dolphin.”

  “True. It will also give you a chance to say goodbye. He plans to leave Beaufort tomorrow,” Ellen said.

  “I assumed as much.” I squashed a tiny pang of disappointment at this thought. “Okay, see you both around three.”

  As soon as I hung up, I got a call from Detective Johnson, who filled me in on the latest developments in the Lisette Bradford case.

  “This will be all over the news later today,” she said. “But I thought you deserved to hear it straight from me, after the help you and Ms. Montgomery and Mr. Howard gave us.”

  I laid down my pen and stared at the paper I’d used to write down names for today’s get-together. It was covered in random doodles including, I was dismayed to see, a few hearts. “I appreciate that.”

  “Basically, it’s now a pretty open-and-shut case. Ms. Gregg confessed to striking and shoving Ms. Bradford during a heated argument. Apparently, Ms. Bradford then fell and hit her head against a dock cleat. When Ms. Gregg realized Ms. Bradford was dead, she panicked.”

  “She tossed Lisette’s body in the water and then cleaned up the area?”

  “So she says. There was plenty of water available, of course, and apparently someone had left a bucket and deck mop beside one of the slips. It’s good we have her confession, since it seems no one was around to catch Ms. Gregg in the act, and there are no CCTV cameras in that area. Not to mention that the two women were arguing out on one of the docks, and a large excursion boat hid them from view.”

  “Did you ever confirm the story about Roger Warren arguing with Lisette a little earlier?”

  “Yes, and although he was gone by the time Harper Gregg approached Ms. Bradford, apparently that earlier argument had agitated her. When Ms. Gregg confronted her, it seems Lisette Bradford was already angry and basically looking for a fight.”

  “Which just escalated things, I guess.” I sighed deeply. “It doesn’t sound like Harper was planning to hurt Lisette.”

  “No, she swears she only wanted to talk—to confront Ms. Bradford over the theft of that story you told me about.” Detective Johnson softened her clipped professional tone. “It’s a sad case. I hope the prosecutor will go for manslaughter, but we’ll see. Covering up the situation after the fact, and then threatening you and Ms. Nobel doesn’t help Ms. Gregg’s case.”

  “I guess not.” I crumpled the scribble-filled paper and tossed it in the wastebasket. “Is it okay if I share this information with others, like Ellen Montgomery and my book club group? You said it would soon be on the news.”

  “Sure, no problem. And thanks again for all your help,” Detective Johnson said, before wishing me a good day.

  I swiveled my rolling chair and stared at one of the photos of Great-Aunt Isabella that adorned the far wall of the office. In it, she was standing arm-in-arm with a few unidentified people who looked vaguely familiar. Probably some celebrities or tycoons, I thought, studying their elegant attire and general air of wealth and power.

  “How’d you do it?” I asked my great-aunt as I rose to my feet and crossed the room to examine the photo. Isabella was wearing a vivid turquoise cocktail dress and a sapphire pendant that was probably worth more than my former annual teacher’s salary. She stared back at me, her lips curved in an enigmatic smile. “How’d you play that role for years, knowing you were under imminent threat if you were discovered? How did you live a life filled with constant danger?”<
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  Just like Ellen’s life was once. Just like Gavin’s probably is now, I thought, pressing my forefinger against the glass covering the photo. “I have to give you credit, Isabella. You were a lot tougher, and braver, than most people knew.”

  She’d ended up as an innkeeper, running Chapters and playing the role of a Southern lady. But she never truly conformed, I realized, remembering Scott’s mention of cheetah-print leggings. She’d always retained her love of adventure.

  My lips twitched into a wry smile as I acknowledged the truth—that trait was something I might have inherited, along with her house.

  * * *

  Ophelia and Bernadette were the first to arrive for my afternoon gathering. I greeted them on the front porch, where I’d arranged some folding chairs to complement the regular contingent of wooden rockers.

  “I thought it would be nice to use the front porch today,” I said, as I set a tray of snacks on a teak console table placed beneath the dining room windows.

  “It is a little cooler out, which is a blessing.” Ophelia adjusted the folds of her tulip-print skirt over her knees as she relaxed in one of the rockers.

  Bernadette slouched against one of the porch-roof posts, her hand gripping the top rail of the balustrade. “I hear the police caught their killer last night, right here at Chapters.”

  “Yes. I’ll fill in the details once everyone arrives.” As I surveyed the porch, I noticed Ellen and Gavin strolling over from Ellen’s front yard.

  Bernadette’s eyebrows drew together over her nose. “I see the mystery man’s still here.”

  “He’s Ellen’s cousin,” I said mildly.

  “Don’t believe it. Not a speck of resemblance between them, and there’s just something …” Bernadette snapped her mouth shut as Gavin bounded up the porch steps. She gave him a mumbled hello, which was echoed, in much more gracious tones, by Ophelia.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Gavin said, his gaze lingering on Ophelia so long that Bernadette shot him a sharp glance.

  “Yes, hello,” Ellen said, as she joined us on the porch. “I know Julie and Scott are coming.” She looked everyone over, her blue eyes bright. “Who else are we expecting?”

  “Pete and Sandy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a little late.” I unstacked some plastic cups and arranged them around a pitcher of ice water. “The café’s open until two, and I’m sure they have a lot of clean-up after closing.” I turned to face my guests. “Help yourselves to hors d’oeuvres and snacks. There’s water on the table, but also wine, beer, and soft drinks in the cooler on the floor.”

  “A beer sounds good,” Gavin, sliding past me to reach the cooler, cast me a searching glance. “Can I get you one, Charlotte?”

  “Not a beer drinker,” I confessed. “But I wouldn’t mind some wine.”

  “I’d like a beer,” Ellen said.

  Gavin pulled a can of chardonnay from the cooler along with a bottle of beer and handed them to Ellen and me before grabbing a beer for himself. “Anyone else?” he asked. “There are some sodas, if you prefer that.”

  “Think I’ll stick with water.” Bernadette crossed to the table. “Better for my girlish figure,” she added, fixing Gavin with a challenging stare. “What is it you do again, Mr. Howard? I can never remember.”

  “Gavin,” he said, twisting the lid of the beer in one swift motion. “And I’m a freelance researcher.”

  “That pays well enough to live on these days?” she asked, as she poured water into one of the plastic cups. “You want water too, Fee?”

  “No, I’ll take wine,” Ophelia said. “And Bernie, please stop badgering. Gavin isn’t required to tell you the story of his life.” She beamed as Gavin handed her one of the chilled cans of wine. “Don’t pay her any mind. My sister is rather nosy, I’m afraid.”

  “It’s all right.” Gavin’s smile brought color to Ophelia’s cheeks. “I expect she’s just protective of her family and friends. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  As he moved away from Ophelia, I studied Gavin for a moment, realizing once again how easily he could blend in with any crowd. A seemingly ordinary man, I thought, but one involved in an extraordinary career. Which makes him interesting, if not a trifle disconcerting.

  Bernadette settled in the rocker next to her sister as Julie and Scott climbed the front porch steps and joined the party. They were followed by Sandy and Pete, who were still wearing their café uniforms—Dancing Dolphin logo T-shirts and khaki shorts.

  A few minutes later, once all the guests had chosen their preferred drinks and some snacks and taken their seats, I crossed to the railing and turned to face the group. “I’m sure you’re all anxious to hear what’s going on with the Lisette Bradford case, which is one reason I wanted to bring everyone together today. So let me fill you in, direct from the authorities—I got a call from Detective Johnson this morning and she brought me up to date.”

  I shared the information the detective had provided, adding, “Amanda Nobel left this morning. Of course, she was cleared of any involvement, as was Roger Warren.”

  “I assume they’re still holding Billy Bradford on the trespassing charge?” Scott asked.

  “I didn’t ask about that, but I assume so, although I guess he could’ve made bail. Obviously, given Harper Gregg’s confession, he’s no longer a murder suspect.”

  “To be honest, I feel a little sorry for the guy.” Julie leaned against the arm Scott had draped over the back of her chair. “I know he behaved foolishly, but I think he really did love Lisette. I mean, that’s why he was so determined to track down Roger when he thought Roger was the culprit.”

  “Stalking is a weird way to show love,” Ellen said dryly before taking a swig of beer.

  I eyed her, surprised at her choice of beverage. Which was silly, of course. Nothing Ellen did should surprise me anymore.

  The conversation swirled around the topic of Harper’s capture and confession for a few minutes, before drifting into a more general discussion of murder.

  “I know we read stuff for the book club involving killing and other types of violence, but I never thought we’d see two murders in Beaufort in as many years,” Sandy said.

  “It isn’t what you’d expect,” Scott said. “Although the history of the region does include its fair share of death.” He lifted his hand in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Wars, pirates, land disputes. It’s not as if this area has always been the most peaceful place on Earth.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Ellen said. “There’s Fort Macon, for instance. It’s seen more than one battle over the years.”

  Bernadette crossed her stocky legs, hiking up her plaid Bermuda shorts. “Isn’t that like most places? Everyone chooses to think they’re isolated from danger, but it isn’t really true. Wherever you have people, power struggles, and passion …” She allowed this thought to hang in the air as she pushed off from the floor and sent her chair rocking.

  “Oh dear, I don’t know if I like that idea. I’d hate to think I’m constantly living in harm’s way, especially in my own hometown,” Ophelia said, punctuating her words with a dramatic shudder.

  Gavin’s gaze was focused on Ophelia. “I’m sure you aren’t in any danger, Ms. Sandburg,” he said.

  “Are you?” Ellen, sitting on one side of him, while I sat on the other, muttered this under her breath.

  “Yes,” he replied, in a quiet voice only she and I could hear.

  “Well, I say we propose a toast,” Pete said, holding up his can of wine. “To no more murders in Beaufort.”

  Everyone lifted a bottle or can to that, with Sandy saying “Amen” after we all repeated the toast.

  Ellen then cleverly directed the conversation elsewhere—to a lively lecture on the pirate history of the area, led by Scott. As the ensuing discussion wound down, Ophelia and Bernadette begged off, saying they needed to go home to start dinner. They were followed by Pete and Sandy, who confessed they were exhausted due to their busy day at the caf�
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  Scott pulled a comical face as the Nelsons hurried off. “Looks like my erudition had the usual effect—chasing everyone away.”

  “I doubt that,” Gavin said, as he rose to his feet. “In fact, I think I’m going to have to buy that book of yours.”

  “Just happen to stock it at my bookshop,” Julie said, with a grin.

  Gavin tapped his empty beer bottle against his palm. “Yes, but I’m afraid I’m leaving town tomorrow.”

  “I have a website.” Julie dug into her small purse and pulled out a business card. “All the info’s on here. You can order online, and I’ll ship the book anywhere.” She leapt out of her chair and crossed to him. “And if you want, I can keep your address on file for future orders.” She cast me a swift glance.

  “That might be a bit of a problem,” Gavin said as he took the card.

  Meeting Julie’s mischievous gaze, I gave a little shake of my head. “He lives on his boat.”

  “Really? How exciting.” Julie turned back to Scott. “Don’t you think that sounds romantic, dear?”

  “I think it sounds like someone who doesn’t want to be tracked down,” Scott said mildly. He gave Gavin a wink. “Hiding from the Feds or something? Or just escaping a few ex-wives?”

  “Really, Scott.” Julie placed her hands on her hips. “Not everyone appreciates your goofy sense of humor.”

  “It’s fine.” Gavin strolled over to the console table and set down his empty bottle. “I’m sure my lifestyle seems a little odd to most.”

  And they don’t know the half of it, I thought, but said, “It’s not for everyone, but if it suits you, I think that’s fine.”

  Gavin looked me over. “Not something I’d expect you’d want, though.”

  I met his intent gaze with a lift of my chin. “I like having a home.”

  “Speaking of home,” Scott said, standing to join Julie. “Perhaps we should be heading there, sweetheart? I have that fillet I was planning to grill for dinner.”