“She said she’d be going to visit Brixton,” I reminded my grandmother. “That’s pretty suspicious too, don’t you think?”
“All right, Charlotte, you’ve convinced me.” My grandmother put her coffee cup aside, looking more fatigued than usual. Maybe I overestimated her ability to deal with the emotional pain losing Darling had put her through. She was so strong externally it was difficult to see past that sometimes.
“Unless you don’t want to?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She got up and beckoned.
Together, we entered the hall and navigated our way to the second floor of the inn and Callie’s room. It was in darkness, though the lights were on in Sherise’s room, peeking out from the crack underneath the door.
We knocked on Callie’s door. No answer.
“Maybe she’s asleep?” I suggested.
“It’s not that late. Let’s pay a visit to Brixton.”
And off we went. We stopped outside his room, but the lights were off in there too. We knocked, and again, no answer.
“That’s weird,” I said. “What are the chances both of them are asleep at 8:00 pm?”
“Before 8:00 pm,” Gamma replied, checking her watch. “Very slim.”
We knocked one more time, but still no answer.
“What do you think?” I whispered.
“That we should check everything’s all right.” My grandmother withdrew her set of keys from her pocket. She always carried it with her, just in case there was an emergency, precisely like this one.
“Hopefully he’s not just asleep in there.”
Gamma raised a finger to her lips then inserted the key into the door. She opened it, and we sneaked into the room. The curtains were still open, the window too, and light from the moon bathed the bedroom.
Everything was in disarray. Pillows thrown aside, sheets ripped back, the cupboards open and clothes strewn all over the floor. My grandmother’s antique lamp had been knocked over and broken.
“What on earth?” Gamma breathed. “Lights, Charlotte.”
I clicked them on.
We searched the room for any sign of Brixton, but there was none. No blood, either.
“There was a fight in here,” Gamma said.
“Callie? Gerry?” It had to be either of them.
Callie had said she wanted to check on Brixton earlier in the day. How long ago had this happened?
I remained where I was, careful not to touch anything.
“Either or.” Gamma paused. “We’d better check Callie’s room, and call the police back here, immediately.”
We hurried out of Brixton’s ruined bedroom, locking the door behind us, and headed for Callie’s suite. I pulled out my phone along the way, my pulse elevating despite my training. A foreboding feeling had settled over me, and Gamma’s pale-faced determination told me she felt the same way.
Gamma opened Callie’s door and entered without hesitation. I clicked on the lights again, and we both stopped dead in our tracks.
Callie lay on the bed, one arm draped over the edge of it, blood dripping from her fingers.
“Call 9-1-1,” Gamma said and rushed forward.
I did as I was told, speaking to the operator on the other end of the call.
Gamma pressed her fingers to Callie’s throat then met my gaze. She gave the tiniest shake of her head.
Callie was dead.
25
Callie’s death had shocked me more than I’d expected.
It wasn’t just that I had been most suspicious of her as the killer—the scratches on her hands, her obsession with Brixton, the way she’d spoken so negatively of Darling. She had been so… young. Vibrant in her own aggressive and strange way.
Two celebrities in the span of a week.
Detective Crowley had his work cut out for him. And so did we.
Gamma and I sat in the dining area together at one of the tables closest to the front windows, looking out at the police officers and their cars. Men and women streamed in and out of the inn, but kept most of the activity to the ground floor.
The guests had been called down here to be questioned and to be kept away from the crime scene. Callie’s room.
“What now?” I asked. “Two murders?”
“I know.” Gamma’s lips were drawn into a thin line. We’d dealt with plenty before this, but two murders at the inn?
There was no question now, or there shouldn’t have been, that the person Detective Crowley had put behind bars wasn’t the killer. And that the person who had committed both crimes was still at the inn. At least for now.
What if they made a run for it?
Right on cue, the detective strolled into the dining area and came over to our table.
“Ladies,” he said, his dark, brooding gaze sweeping over us. “I’d love to say it’s pleasant to be back here, but given the circumstances…”
“Understandable,” I said.
“What are you planning to do about this, Detective?” Gamma asked, straightening her blouse. “You told us you had put the culprit behind bars, but here we are again. A woman has died because you focused on the wrong suspect.”
Whoa. Looks like Georgina’s not playing around today.
Crowley’s brow creased. “I doubt Mrs. Gould’s murder and Miss Gordon’s are connected,” he said, slowly.
Gamma’s jaw dropped and her eyes bugged out.
“Uh, what?” I spoke for both of us.
“There’s no cross-over motive,” Crowley said. “No reason why the killer would need to attack Miss Gordon and no relation to—”
“Let me see if I’m hearing this correctly,” Gamma interjected, two red spots spreading over her cheeks. “Two people who knew each other and who are staying at this inn with a group of friends, all with complex, intertwined relationships, were murdered, and you think the cases are… unrelated?”
“Yes,” Crowley said, sternly. “And it’s my job as a detective to make the deductions, Miss Franklin, not yours.”
“Well, isn’t that a pity?” Gamma was bitter about it, and I didn’t blame her.
Crowley wasn’t stubborn. He had to have some pretty solid evidence on this stalker guy to believe it was him who’d killed Darling.
“Regardless,” Crowley said, “of what you two think, I have this case under control. Unfortunately, I’m going to have to close off the second floor of the inn until the investigation is complete. I’ll expect your full cooperation until such a time as it’s no longer required.”
“What about the guests?” I asked. “What about us?”
“You’ll have to move them to other rooms. I’m sure there’s more space for them now that… well, I’m sure there’s more space.”
He’d almost been crass just then, and I glared at him. Gamma carried an identical stare.
“Do you need anything else, Detective?” Gamma asked.
Getting your head checked would be a good place to start.
“Not for now. Just make sure everyone stays away from the second floor.” And then he walked off, heading out into the hall.
A few of the guests who had finished giving statements entered the dining area and sat down, looking utterly exhausted. Thankfully, we had a fully stocked coffee bar for all their energy needs.
“This isn’t ideal,” Gamma said, softly. “We should get these people something to eat. Something sweet for the shock.”
I groaned.
“What is it, Charlotte?”
“I just realized Jessie Belle-Blue’s going to hear about this. I can only imagine she’ll have a field day.”
“Don’t mention that woman’s name to me.”
Though Gamma and Jessie had reluctantly worked together once in the past, the peace had been short-lived. They were back to despising each other and relishing in each other’s failures. Belle-Blue would be back to calling the Gossip Inn a “murder hotel.”
“I’ll ask Lauren to prepare cupcakes for the guests. Maybe some milkshakes?” I got up
, and a shimmer distracted me. It had come from the windows of a van trundling up the front path. The side doors opened, and a woman emerged.
“Oh no,” I muttered. “This is… oh no.”
“What is it?” Gamma rose next to me. “Oh, dear.”
“Jacinta Redgrave.”
The editor of the Gossip Rag, the local tabloid, had arrived to cover the second murder at the inn. And she wasn’t alone. News van after news van and car pulled up, flanking the inn and the police cruisers parked out front.
Cameras and reporters emerged, setting up with their silly mics and perfectly coifed hair.
My worst nightmare had arrived.
Increased scrutiny on the inn meant a heightened chance my cover would be blown, and Kyle would finally hunt us out. Couple that with us not having heard from Special Agent In Charge Grant…
Smulder would want to rip me out of the inn and into a hiding spot faster than I could blink.
“We have to get rid of them,” I whispered. “Or I’m toast. Burnt toast. No butter.”
“Move out.” Gamma took point, and we marched out of the inn and down the stairs, past the few police officers who had started setting up a line to keep the reporters back.
Jacinta Redgrave, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders, glossy under the weak late winter sun, spotted us. She flashed a sharkish grin.
“There you are, Georgina,” she called. “I was hoping you’d come out to play.”
“Redgrave, you’d better get your people off my property.”
“What are you going to do?” Jacinta asked, jeering. “Call the police? In case you haven’t noticed, there are more of us than there are of them.”
“This is private property,” Gamma snapped. “You have no right to be here.”
Jacinta licked a finger and held it in the air. “Ah, but there’s a story afoot, and as you know, the Gossip Rag must be on the scene to report the truth.”
“That’s liberal use of the word,” I put in.
Gamma shot me a look that told me to stay out of it. If I angered Jacinta, I would only make things worse for myself. “Charlotte, would you mind asking Lauren to prepare some cupcakes for our guests?”
I excused myself from the conversation.
This was bad. This was real bad. And if we didn’t find the real murderer soon, I’d be leaving the inn without any goodbyes.
26
I marched down the hall, dodging around police officers here and there, and trying not to let Jacinta’s rudeness get to me. It was probably best Gamma dealt with her. The last time I’d encountered the editor of the Gossip Rag, things hadn’t gone well.
The activity was most intense on the stairs, but a quick peek into the dining area showed me all the guests of the inn had gathered there. Detective Crowley was nowhere to be seen.
I entered the kitchen, sighing, then pulled up short.
Lauren rested her head on her arms at the kitchen table, her red pigtails in disarray, while her meaner, older sister stood at the kitchen sink.
“Josie?” I frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Lauren needs to rest,” Josie said. “So, I’m going to be doing her work today. And probably for the next week.”
“What? Why? Lauren, what's wrong?” Anxiety reared its ugly head. If Lauren was this upset, it couldn't be about the baby or lack of sleep.
The inn's chef lifted her head off her arms and gave me a look of pure misery.
“I said this would happen.” Josie said, grimly.
Lauren's bottom lip wobbled. “I didn't want to make a fuss. There are more important things to worry about. Poor Callie—”
“More important than your husband running out on you?” Josie asked.
“He didn't run out on me!” Tears gathered in Lauren's eyes.
I blinked. Jason was a busy guy, and I didn't know him that well, but he didn't strike me as the type who would run out on his family. And he loved Lauren dearly.
“He’s just away on a business meeting. That’s all.” Lauren bowed her head.
“A business meeting that’s lasted over a week. He hasn’t called you once, and he won’t answer your messages. Face it, sister, he’s left you to deal with Tyke all on your own. He’s a no-good piece of trash who—”
“That’s enough,” I said, quietly.
Josie jumped as if she’d been pinched and glared at me.
I gave her an icy look and moved to Lauren’s side. It didn’t matter whether Josie was right or not. Her diatribe about Jason had upset my friend.
“Lauren,” I said, squeezing her arm. “It’s OK. Whatever happens, we’ll all stick together, and things will work out.”
“I didn’t want to say anything,” the chef murmured. “Georgina already has so much going on at the inn that I just…”
“I know, I know, but you really could have told us. I think you’d be surprised by how much Georgina can deal with.”
Lauren gave me an odd look.
“Just a hunch,” I added. “I know you know her better than I do, but she seems like a really capable lady.” Way to go, Charlotte. Almost blew your cover.
“Thanks, Charlie.”
Josie grunted but returned to washing the dishes without further comment. A good thing too because I’d had about enough of her upsetting the apple cart. Not that I could do anything about it at the moment.
I patted Lauren’s back. I’d come to the kitchen to ask her to prep snacks for our freaked-out guests, but I couldn’t fathom asking that of her now when she was so upset.
“Is everything OK out there?” Lauren asked.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I lied. “You just worry about yourself. I’ll go check on things, OK?”
Lauren gave a miserable nod. I fetched her a glass of water then left her at the kitchen table, silently fuming at Jason for having stressed her out this much. Surely, he hadn’t abandoned her, right?
I set my questions aside and exited into the hall. Gamma would know what to do about Lauren’s dilemma. Shoot, we might even go on a little tracking mission. Hunt Jason down, bring him back, and make him explain why he’d decided stressing out our favorite chef was a good idea.
Cocoa Puff meowed at me from under a table of trinkets, his eyes wide and his tail flicking from side-to-side. The influx of strangers—more than the usual amount of guests—had bugged him. I bent and stroked his furry head.
“Boy, it hasn’t been a great day, has it?” I asked.
He meowed again but mixed in a few purrs to show he appreciated my attention.
“Don’t worry, Cocoa, it’s going to—”
A tap on my back startled me.
You’re losing your grip, letting people sneak up on you.
I straightened and found Brian waiting, his brow furrowed. “We need to talk. Now.”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not? I’m putting out fires everywhere today.” It was a silly joke, but Smulder didn’t grace me with a laugh.
“Greenhouse.” He beckoned.
I traipsed out the front of the inn, rather than going through the kitchen and we circled past the circus of people and into the yard.
Brian took the lead. He opened the greenhouse door, and I followed him into the moist heat inside. The air was close in here, but the sight of all the growing things improved my mood. Tomatoes and peas, runner beans and lettuce.
“It’s time,” Brian said.
I frowned. “What time?” I checked my watch. “It’s just past—”
“Charlie, it’s time. I haven’t heard from Grandpa.” Special Agent in Charge Grant. “And the contingency plan we have in place must come into effect. Now.”
“Now? It’s the middle of the day.” Panic threatened along with an emotion I didn’t like, a swelling of pain in my throat.
“No time like the present.”
He was dead serious, and the look in his eyes said he wouldn’t brook any arguments. That this was what had to be done, for the inn, for Gamma, for Lauren. Even for Sunli
ght and Cocoa Puff. Crying or throwing a tantrum wouldn’t change anything. We had to go.
“How long do I have?” I asked.
“Twenty minutes.” Brian’s shoulders lowered, as if he’d been afraid I would resist. If something was wrong at NSIB headquarters, we were in a lot more danger than before. “Grab what you need and meet me behind the inn.”
Everything I owned was on the second floor of the inn and would be impossible to get without running into a police officer or Detective Crowley himself. I already had my phone on my person.
There was only one thing I needed.
I strode out of the greenhouse and round the front of the inn. Gamma had just finished with Jacinta, it seemed, but the editor of the Gossip Rag hadn’t moved off. Her victorious smile shone bright from afar.
Gamma came over to me shaking her head. “Well, that’s not ideal, but there’s not much I can do. As long as they don’t set foot in the inn, you should be—” My grandmother cut off, studying my face intently. “It’s already too late, isn’t it?”
“Look after Lauren. She’s upset. Jason’s missing.”
Gamma didn’t falter. “I’ll take care of it.”
“And Cocoa… he likes to cuddle at night. Tell him—tell him I’ll miss him.” Another wave of emotion assaulted me, but I refused to cry. This couldn’t be the end. It couldn’t be. “Sunlight too.”
“You’ll be fine, Charlotte.” Gamma placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed tight, her bright blue eyes saying more than her words ever could. “You’ll be back in no time. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”
And just like that, it was over. My time in Gossip was at an end.
27
Our apartment was in an undisclosed location in an undisclosed town about five hours’ drive from Gossip. We were still in Texas, but tomorrow, we’d head out again, driving for the next safehouse that would take me further from my grandmother and friends.
I couldn’t bring myself to speak to Brian.
Even though he was here, trying to be supportive, my immediate reaction was to blame him for this ill twist of fate. I knew it was dumb, but my emotions were on the edge.
Mint Murder (A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 10
