Gamma put up her palm. “You and Brixton were having dinner on the night the guests arrived.” That was the night of Darling’s murder.
“Yes. At the Hungry Steer.”
“Can anyone corroborate that story?” Gamma asked.
“Sure. The servers, I guess. And Grayson Tombs, the owner, was hanging around as well.”
A look of triumph flashed over my grandmother’s face. We had just eliminated two people from our murder investigation. Brixton and Jason.
That left just Sherise and Gerry, both who had ample motive to kill Darling and Callie. Darling for her money or out of jealousy. Callie out of rage or rejection.
“Right,” Gamma said. “That’s enough out of you, Mr. Harris. It’s past time we deliver you to your wife. Whatever fate you fear I’ll deliver, I doubt it will be as swift and retributive as one Lauren will bring. I would wish you luck but… that would make me a liar.”
30
The following morning…
Working the alibis of our suspects would be our main approach from now on.
We had excluded two suspects, and with the supposed connection between Callie and Darling’s murders, we could assume that if the remaining two suspects had an alibi for the night of one of the murders, they were clear.
And with the cops crawling all over the inn, our only choice was to find that information elsewhere. It wasn’t like Sherise and Gerry would be coming back to stay.
“She’ll be here,” Gamma said, checking her watch then lifting a hand to summon our server.
The young woman approached, bearing a smile, her notepad, and fiddling with her Hungry Steer themed apron.
I loved the aesthetic of this place, but I kept sweeping my gaze over the hay bales, the rough tables, lanterns, and rustic walls. What do you think’s going to happen? Agents are going to appear and take you down?
Still, Smulder hadn’t come back to Gossip yet. I didn’t doubt he would. He wanted me to be safe, and he would ensure that that happened no matter the cost.
“—miss?”
“Sorry?” I blinked up at the server.
“What can I get for you?”
“Uh… just a cheeseburger and fries, please,” I said.
“Sure thing.” She gave us both a thumbs-up, removed our menus, then swept off toward the kitchen to put in our order.
“Charlotte, relax. Nothing’s going to happen, right now.” Gamma’s piercing gaze was focused on me. “If and when Brian returns, we’ll handle it. Worrying about it now…” She didn’t have to finish the sentence.
“I’m glad I came back,” I said. “I’m tired of being unsure about the future.” I finally knew what I wanted, and it was to stay here in Gossip with my grandmother. But the decision wasn’t in my hands at the moment, thanks to the closing noose that was Kyle Turner. I couldn’t help but believe that the silence from Special Agent in Charge Grant was somehow related to it.
Whatever happened, there were so many questions left unanswered.
Like, what would happen between Brian and me when this was all over, for one.
What would I do with my life if I wasn’t a spy?
“There she is,” Gamma said, rising and waving at Sherise, who had just entered the restaurant.
She hurried over then sat down next to me, placing her massive tote bag beside her on the booth’s seat.
“Lovely to see you again, Georgina,” Sherise said, patting her gray hair to ensure it was neatly fastened in her bun. “I see you’ve brought your assistant.”
“Charlotte,” Georgina replied, nodding and gesturing to me.
Sherise gave me the barest of acknowledgement before turning back to my grandmother. “What did you want to meet with me about?”
“Would you like to get a cup of coffee before we discuss that?” Gamma asked. “Something to eat?”
“No, no, I have far too much to organize to waste time. Let’s get this over with.”
“I wanted to talk to you about Callie.”
“Rest her soul.” Sherise crossed herself. “Didn’t like the girl, but to be snuffed out in the prime of her life like that? Terrible. You know, she was earmarked as the next Darling. An actress who would be one of the greats. Such a pity.” But there was a glimmer in Sherise’s eye.
Didn’t seem much like she cared what happened to Callie. Or rather, she was happy that she hadn’t lived long enough to become one of the greats.
“What did you want to talk about her for?” Sherise asked.
Moment of truth. Would Gamma opt for the honest approach or create a story as to why we needed Sherise’s alibi? My gut said that honesty wasn’t the best policy in this case.
“Here’s the thing,” Gamma said, “my inn is closed thanks to Callie’s death. It seems that whoever did this to her is still on the loose, and I have a firm belief that it might be, well, Gerry, to be quite frank.”
Sherise’s eyes lit up. Of course, my grandmother knew exactly what to say to get the cogs turning.
“You do? That’s fascinating.” Sherise raised her eyebrows. “I’ve got to admit that I’ve had a similar feeling. If anyone would have wanted to get rid of Darling, it was him. Horrible creature. You saw how he behaved at the memorial service.”
“I did,” Gamma said.
Sherise put up her hand, summoned the server, and ordered a coffee. Apparently, Gamma had softened her up enough.
“Here’s the thing. Darling changed her will months before her death,” Sherise said. “She discussed it openly with me. I was the only one she trusted at the time with the information that she’d changed it. She didn’t want Gerry to find out.”
“Do you think he did find out?” Gamma asked.
I stuck to observing. Sherise would likely take offense to me getting involved.
“No. He never did,” Sherise replied. “Not as far as I know. But that makes him even more likely to have killed her, doesn’t it? Maybe he thought she would leave everything to him?”
“That’s a good enough motive,” Gamma agreed, slowly. “But why harm Callie? That doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Gerry was obsessed with Callie,” Sherise said. “I’m pretty sure they were dating, though Callie would never admit it. Ooh! What if they conspired together to get Darling’s money, and when they didn’t get it… things went wrong?”
Gamma nodded.
These were all options we’d considered before. No new information, but Gamma was leading up to it.
“Do you know where he was on the afternoon of Callie’s murder?” Gamma asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” she said. “I had a previous engagement with a new partner, so I wasn’t at the inn. I went to the library to have a conference call.”
That’s perfect! The library has CCTV cameras. We can confirm that she was there with the folks who work there. Many of them were friends with my grandmother, now that she’d started returning her books to the library on time.
“Ah, that’s a pity,” Gamma said.
“You know, that detective thinks it was some stalker who killed Darling. He has no idea what Gerry’s up to,” Sherise said. “I tried telling him but… oh well. I’ll be gone tomorrow, and this won’t be my problem anymore.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
Sherise sniffed and considered me like I was a particularly bothersome slug. “Yes. Most of us are. Though Gerry has no problem staying at the motel in town. He doesn’t seem to care about the disgustingly yellow sheets.”
“Do you know which room he’s staying in?” Gamm asked.
“He was right next door to mine. Room 45.” Sherise shuddered delicately then accepted her coffee from the server without thanking her. “Though, I wouldn’t go out there to see him if I were you. That place is crawling with germs.”
But that’s exactly what we’re going to do.
After we’d confirmed Sherise’s alibi for the night of Callie’s murder, we’d head out to the motel and do a little reconnaissance.
Gerry was the only true suspect now, and it was up to us to prove it then capture him.
31
That night…
“Ready for this?” I asked Gamma, as I strapped on a utility belt underneath my black turtleneck.
Gamma had already lifted the light armor from her mannequin in her underground armory and strapped it on. She walked between the shelves containing multiple weapons and high-tech spy equipment, frowning. “Yes, of course.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I believe we’re going to capture the killer this evening,” she said. “But it won’t matter unless we can prove it.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Capture and interrogate,” Gamma replied. “But not in the regular way.” She rested a fist under her chin, folding her other arm against her chest. “We need to cook up something special for Mr. Gould.”
“I get the feeling you’re enjoying this a little more than you should be.”
“I’ve despised the man for years. Of course, I’m enjoying this. As much as I can be given the circumstances.” Gamma dragged an empty duffel bag out into the center of her armory then fisted her hips. “We need proof first, and after that… hmm. Let me see. Charlotte, I need one of your dresses. One that’s glittery and glamorous. One that looks the most like something Darling would wear.”
“What on earth?”
“Trust me on this,” she said.
“I always trust you,” I replied. “Give me the list.”
Gamma’s eyes twinkled as she rushed to her fancy desk. She tapped on the screen and typed out a list before hitting a button to print it. She gave it to me after. “Get all of these things for me. We’ll rendezvous back down here in fifteen minutes. We’re taking the SUV.” Gamma’s black SUV had tinted windows and no plates.
I’d been itching for action for a while, and this was it. The itch that was Smulder’s impending arrival—no way he’d let me run off without any consequences—would have to wait.
There was spy work to be done and a murderer to be caught.
Assuming we’re right about Gerry being the murderer.
I still couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten into the room and out of it again without leaving a trace.
The Gossip Hotel wasn’t exactly the nicest place to stay, but as the only other hotel in Gossip apart from the inn, it drew its fair share of patrons. And it wasn’t as bad as Sherise had made it out to be. But the security was pretty darn bad.
Which was bad for the guests, but good for us.
The Gossip Hotel’s roof needed some serious maintenance. Loose shingles threatened to slide from it with every step we took. Gamma and I had grappled up to the roof—she’d gotten a copy of the building’s blueprints from one of her librarian friends.
We crouched on the roof tiles, and Gamma clicked on a penlight, sweeping it over the blueprint. “Gerry’s room is here. Third floor. We rappel down the side of the building to this point and enter through the balcony.”
I nodded. We’d been over the blueprint before, but it was good to check it one last time before we moved in.
“Synchronize watches,” Gamma whispered. “You know the rest of the plan.”
“Roger.”
We synchronized watches then moved to the edge of the roof, creeping, catlike, so we didn’t upset any of the shingles.
Sure, it might’ve been simpler to enter through the front door, but we weren’t here to chat with Gerry. Our mission was to find the evidence we needed to prove he was the guilty party then capture him and implicate him.
We shot our grapples into the side of the building then rappelled down toward the balcony together. A quick click of the button, and both grapples swept back to our belts.
Gamma brought out her lockpick and got the doors open. I entered, whisper-silent, removing another device from my belt—small, and shaped like a remote.
I rounded the corner, aimed it at the CCTV camera at the end of the hallway and hit the button. I didn’t need to see the red light blink off to know it was deactivated—Gamma’s tools never failed to impress.
We streaked toward room 45 like two shadows. The hall was empty, the carpeted floor muffling our steps.
Gamma bent and removed the key tool once again then inserted it into the door lock.
Just like that, we were in. And no one was the wiser.
The hotel room was small, with an en suite bathroom with a cracked mirror and a single bed against the wall. Gerry’s suitcases were open at the foot of it, some of his clothes spilling out as if he’d either packed or unpacked in a hurry.
A coffee table was stacked with neatly organized piles of paper, and the TV on the wall was off.
I removed the duffel bag stocked with all of Gamma’s paraphernalia and placed it next to the closet.
“How long do you think we have?” I asked.
Gamma checked her watch. “He’ll be out of the restaurant within the hour,” she replied. “I’ve got Matilda watching him. She’ll message us the minute he leaves. For now, let’s find the evidence we need.”
We scoured the room, Gamma heading for the suitcases and me making for the stacks of paper on the table, our penlights on and casting light over the room.
“These are letters to… holy wow.” I paged through the papers. “They’re all from or directed to members of the press, major magazines, online publications. All offering inside information on Darling’s relationship with Brixton. There are pictures of them kissing and everything.”
“So, clearly Gerry had no love lost for his wife.”
“But Callie?” I asked. “Why would he kill Callie?”
“Cut up clothes.” Gamma had moved onto the second suitcase, her gloved hands rummaging through it. “These are Darling’s clothes. They’ve been shredded.”
“Why?”
“Jealousy?” I suggested.
“He didn’t care for Darling. He had no shame when it came to selling her out, so why would he have…” Gamma’s eyes widened. “He was jealous, but not of Brixton. Of her. He didn’t like her being in the limelight.”
“And Callie—he was obsessed with her, but she was in love with Brixton. When she didn’t return his affections, he must have lost it.”
“I hope Brixton is in a safe location,” Gamma said. “It looks like we’ve got a killer on our hands.”
“But we can’t prove it with this.” I straightened, sighing. “Papers to the press and some shredded clothes aren’t enough. Are we sure we’re on the right track here, Georgina?”
Gamma was quiet for a while.
“He thought he would get her money,” she said. “He despised her and was jealous of the attention she received, as he mentioned at the memorial service. He was emotionally attached to Callie and exhibiting stalking behavior.”
“It adds up. Now, we have to prove it.”
“We proceed with the plan, Charlotte. It’s time to set up the camera,” Gamma said.
A slow grin parted my lips. This part ought to be fun.
32
Gamma was in the closet. I was behind the door.
We’d been waiting for fifteen minutes since the text from Matilda had first come through. Our mark was on his way.
The darkness was comforting as we waited, and I breathed evenly to keep my pulse at a normal rate. The calmer I was, the easier it would be to focus on our mission. I hadn’t done something this exciting in months.
Footsteps approached the door, and a key entered the lock.
I held my breath, counting to ten.
Room 45’s door opened, and Gerry entered, muttering under his breath. I shadowed him, following in his steps. He reached for the light, and I slipped my arm around his neck and held him tight.
Gerry let out a piggy squeal and struggled against my grip, but I had him out like a light, fast. I lowered him into the armchair we’d selected, tied him to it, then retreated behind his chair to the camera directed squarely at him. I would have to time this perfectl
y.
Gamma slipped out of the closet, wearing clothing Darling might’ve worn—a long glittery evening dress—a wig, and white makeup. We’d thrown together the costume at the last minute, but with Gerry disorientated and the poor lighting in here, it had to work.
You hope.
I’d used many interrogation techniques in my time as a spy, but this one took the cake. Pretending to be a ghost to get a confession? This could go one of two ways.
Gerry snorted then groaned. He raised his head, blinking into the darkness.
“What the—” The struggle against his bindings started, but I was a pro at tying knots.
Gamma drifted forward, dressed in her Darling garb. “Gerry,” she croaked. “Why did you do it, Gerry?”
Our mark froze mid-struggle and sucked in a ragged gasp.
Moment of truth.
I waited, finger on the camera’s record button, for the right time.
“D-Darling?” Gerry whispered.
Yes, it worked!
“Gerry, why? You were meant to protect me, not kill me.”
“Y-you… I knew you were haunting me. I knew it.” The words exploded from Gerry’s lips.
The man was mentally unhinged. How else might he have murdered two people, been terrified of ghosts and—?
“I will follow you wherever you go until you confess to your crimes, Gerry. First me. Now Callie. Why?”
“I—I—”
My finger tensed on the button.
“I’m waiting, Gerry. I’m waiting for you to admit your guilt. I won’t leave without the truth. I must know why you murdered us. Admit it! Admit!”
Is that too far? Will he buy this?
Gerry opened his mouth, and I hit record.
“I admit it! I killed Callie. I killed her. I couldn’t stand the fact that she was in love with another man. And you, Darling, you… you always thought you were better than me. You know you did. I would kill you again, given the chance.” Gerry’s eyes held a wild light by the sliver of moonlight that slipped between the curtains. “It was so easy. You never saw it coming. I slipped out from behind the chair and… pushed you and when you fell I… I panicked and hid away. Crept out afterward, just before the police—I would do it again. I’ll kill anyone who gets in my way. The longer I live, the more I realize that I’m the one who’s supposed to be in charge. I’m the one who knows how things should be done.”
Mint Murder (A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 5) Page 12
