by Beth Byers
Vi considered, attempting to distract herself from her tears.
“I could see murdering someone like that,” Rita said. Her grip on her knife was too tight, and her knuckles were turning white, but she used it to stab the meat on her plate a moment later, and she seemed to enjoy cutting through the beef, watching the flesh part. “I could see plunging a knife into such a man’s back and going home and sleeping peacefully. These money-grubbing gents that chased you and I, Vi. They’re animals.”
No one countered Rita, but they all watched with a sort of sick fascination when she ate that mutilated meat and then glanced up with a barely banked rage.
“The lack of money-grubbing blokes is the best part of being married,” Vi responded.
“I don’t know,” Denny said. “Sooner or later, someone will think they can persuade you from our boys and imagine themselves as your next dependent husband.”
Rita stared at Denny and then surprised them all with a laugh. It was followed by a gasp as she covered her mouth and stricken, guilt-filled eyes as she realized she had laughed on such a day.
“Tell us about the placement of the body,” Lila cut in before Rita could bury them in recriminations. “Was it vicious blows?”
Jack blinked for a moment, and Vi could see him filter through the question, the questioner, and conclude that Lila—who rarely cared much about their cases—had asked to distract Rita from self-hatred.
“It was a fierce blow,” he said.
Vi had to wonder if it was the truth, but he continued.
“Struck from behind, he died rather quickly, and probably couldn’t do much other than feel the blow.”
“So he probably knew who killed him?” Lila asked with the same grisly curiosity that she forced for Rita.
“Probably,” Jack said.
“How odd,” Lila mused. “To be murdered and hear the words of the person who killed you. What would you say? This is for mussing my embroidered couch?”
“Or,” Denny suggested, “for wounding my feminine pride and romancing me for my money?”
“Not even bothering to hide his intent,” Kate added. “If the heiress was the killer, he romanced her so poorly that she knew what he was doing the whole time. She knew and he’d continued, setting aside her wit and thinking she’d just…just…succumb to occasional flattery and his handsome face.”
Vi scrunched her nose with a flash of fury at the idea that he had treated Miss Sinclair that way.
“I didn’t feel all that sorry for him before,” Beatrice said, her fingers still in Smith’s hand, “but I find that I don’t think this man’s death would be all that tragic if the woman he intended to manipulate and rob killed him.”
Violet knew her own fury was out of hand when she could imagine plunging that knife for Miss Sinclair, but…Vi sighed. “He wasn’t only robbing her of her innocence. If he really did those things to her, if he really half-romanced her for the money, he could easily have stolen Miss Sinclair’s belief that anyone would love her. After all, Jason Meyers clearly thought her only worth came from her fortune.”
“Especially since she’s older,” Lila said, wincing for the reverend’s daughter. “Maybe she’s single still because she wants to be, but if not—she might have had a few remaining thoughts that eventually someone would see her and want her.”
“No one wants to be desired only for their money.” Rita shook her head, fierce again like the rest of the ladies at the table. “No one wants to be a commodity rather than a person with hopes and dreams. No one should be treated like that.”
“Let’s kill him again,” Denny said cheerily. “I’ve heard of a rather available and very sharp knife.”
“Lucky for you, my lad,” Lila told her husband, “you were wise enough to marry me for myself.”
Denny grinned at her. “Oh I wanted you for what you could offer me.”
“My routine?” Lila suggested in mockery as she’d had nothing to offer when they’d wed. “My country connections? The chance to be Martha’s brother-in-law?”
Denny shuddered at Martha’s name.
“Your bossiness, Lila,” he told her. “It gets me out of bed and pushes me through life. You’re my own personal carrot and stick.”
Rita laughed again and then she closed her eyes. “I can’t.”
A moment later she rose and darted up the stairs quickly followed by Ham. The rest of them stared at each other, feeling too much.
“At least we got her to eat some,” Denny muttered.
“We got her to think of something else,” Beatrice added.
“She’s not ready for that yet,” Smith said, to Vi’s shock. “It’ll take time. Grief does, but it’s good she got up rather than wallowing. You should prod her from bed every day if you can.”
He rose, kissed Beatrice with far too much heat for the joint company, and left. The rest of them stared at each other, once again, and then Victor said, “Well if we’re going to prod her out of bed and back into life, we should rest up.”
Rather than lingering after their late supper, they rose one-by-one and left the dining room. Vi collapsed into her bed and was asleep before Jack joined her, but he was there when the dreams of the loss of Rita and Ham’s baby combined with Jason Meyers and took hold. She was chased through her sleep until she gasped awake and found that dawn had come once again.
Chapter 13
Violet found Rita in her bedroom the next day. She was sitting near the fire, staring at nothing. Vi asked, “What do you need?”
“I don’t know,” Rita replied. “Ham says it’s not my fault, but it feels like it’s my fault and there’s this pressure on my chest like I’m drowning.”
Vi knew that feeling. “A weight that brings with it a lack of interest in anything.”
“Except feeling guilty,” Rita said. “I just—” She couldn’t finish.
“It helps to focus on something else and give your heart and mind time to feel what it has to feel.”
“I don’t want to stay in this room, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Let’s help Jack then,” Vi suggested.
“I—” Rita paused. “I’m so angry, too. I don’t know if I can keep from screaming.”
Vi thought for a moment and then said, “I’ll be right back.”
She darted down the stairs and found Hargreaves in the butler’s pantry. She explained what she wanted and then raced back up the stairs. Rita gave Vi a desultory glance and then returned her gaze to the fireplace.
“Prepare for an audience,” Vi said with a grin. A moment later, Hargreaves appeared in the doorway with a tray of china.
“What’s this?” Rita asked.
Vi rolled her eyes, gestured for Hargreaves to set it on the bed, and then dragged her friend away from the fireplace to the end of the bed. Vi turned, winked at Rita, and then picked up one of the thick crystal glasses that Jack used for whiskey.
Vi rolled it across her hand and then turned and threw it as hard as she could. Her years of playing cricket with her twin and his best friends gave her speed and form. The glass crashed against the fireplace, shattered, and then a loud, excited laugh escaped from her.
“That was wonderful!” Vi crowed. “Do it, do it, do it!”
Rita stared, but there was something in her expression as she took a glass from Hargreaves and threw it as hard as she could.
“Ha!” A moment later, she added softly, “That was wonderful.”
Vi gestured to the tray and Rita threw another. She let out a half-delighted, half-horrified scream and then laughed. Another glass followed almost immediately after and then Rita laughed again.
“What the devil!” Ham called and Vi picked up one the glasses, let it roll over her fingers, and handed it to Rita, who threw it with as much force as she could muster.
She turned to her husband and laughed. Ham’s eyes shone with more fluid than normal and Vi grinned at him, winked, and then passed Rita another glass. She threw it, laughed with a not
e of hysteria, and then made a sort of gasping cry as she set the next glass down and threw herself at Ham.
“I’m sorry,” Rita cried.
“It’s not your fault,” he replied. “It’s just…life.”
Somehow that was the right thing to say and Rita clung more tightly to Ham, who nodded at Vi in gratitude as he stepped to the side to let her slip out of the room. Vi closed the door and glanced at Hargreaves.
“I apologize for the mess,” Vi said.
“I’ve never been happier to see one made,” he told Vi with approval. They both turned and found their whole crowd of friends watching.
Vi said, “It’s possible our glassware has been culled.”
Jack took her face between his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That was the laughing I heard?”
She nodded.
“It was well worth it then,” Jack said. “I need to go back to Mrs. Meyers.”
“Why?” Denny asked. “It’s not like we owe her anything, and you aren’t assigned to this case by your supervisor. You could just…not.”
Jack paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I find murder personally offensive and the injustice keeps me awake at night,” he stated in a staunch tone.
Denny lifted his brows and nodded, but it was evident he didn’t feel the same.
Violet smiled at Jack before she added, “Rita is mildly interested, so whatever it takes. She needs time and distraction. We can give it to her, can’t we?”
Denny nodded and Lila whispered, “Should we stay? Are we helping or making it worse?”
They all looked towards Jack and Vi. She didn’t know and shrugged her reply before looking at Jack, who answered. “Rita doesn’t want to go home yet. She doesn’t want to go back to that house at all.”
“She can stay here, of course,” Vi said. “Or, we could go back to the country. Or the Amalfi Coast?”
They all eyed each other and then nodded as if they’d reached the same conclusion at once.
“We’ll stay until they’re ready,” Kate voiced for them all.
“Why don’t I go with you, Jack?” Victor asked. “Extra eyes? Maybe I can pretend to be of use.”
Jack’s gaze landed on Vi and then he said, “It would be better for Vi to stay with Rita. Given that Vi seems to be capable of distracting Rita.”
“I’m not going to argue,” Vi told him easily. “This isn’t you trying to cage me, this is you focusing on our friend first.”
Jack huffed a laugh and shook his head slightly at her. “It’s me trying to protect you somewhat, Vi. That woman is a bit—” He shook his head again. “No, not a bit. That woman is mad. Bedlam level, someone bring the straitjacket and the locked room. I don’t want you anywhere near her.”
“Then you had better go arm yourself.”
Jack’s eyes crinkled and she lifted a challenging brow. “I’ll use an ankle holster, shall I?”
Vi paused and then nodded once, her gaze turning to Victor, who said innocently, “I don’t have an ankle holster.”
“Then you’ll be carrying something else.” Kate eyed her husband as though he were a bit dim. “Victor, Jack doesn’t just declare someone mad when the rest of us feel like someone isn’t quite right. If that woman has sent Jack’s worries spiraling, then you need to be doubly careful.”
Victor nodded, not even bothering to argue. Then Denny asked, almost gleefully, “Can I come?”
Jack paused so long Denny deflated, but it seemed they were all feeling a little more generous after the last few days and Jack nodded. “No weapons for you.”
“What about a knife?” Denny asked, with a tone so chipper that Vi had to laugh.
Jack’s expression was long-suffering as he nodded and then Vi said, “If you stab my husband, I’ll poison you with chocolate.”
“That’s been done already,” Denny told her cheerily. “Get some originality.”
“It’s just the most effective method to murder you, my lad,” Lila told him. “She wouldn’t even need to give it to you. She could just poison a box and leave it out, and you’d be the only victim.”
Denny gasped as though he were wounded and then gave them all a wide grin and rushed towards his bedroom.
“It’ll be like having a rude puppy along with you,” Lila said, little caring if Denny heard her.
“Wife!” he gasped accusatorially from inside the bedroom.
“He’s probably digging for a weapon and coming up with old chocolate boxes and a wine screw.” Vi grinned at her friends. “Where’s Beatrice? She’s got a knife.”
“I’ve got a knife,” Jack and Victor said in unison, and then Vi’s cackle let them know she’d been teasing them as well.
“Oh my,” Lila muttered. “Pathetic. I can’t believe they fell for that.”
Vi snorted and even the much kinder Kate choked on a laugh. Vi finally declared, “I need coffee. Let’s leave the gents to it, shall we? We can indulge in chocolates and coffees and naps and they can hunt killers and deal with the mad woman who left her grandson’s body to rot while she embroidered.”
Kate shivered. “My daughters can’t even reproduce yet and I love my grandchildren already. I could never…would never…I—” Kate shuddered. “I would love to linger together in the library, with a book and nibbles.”
Vi grinned and then glanced behind her. Denny had reappeared and his grin was wicked. “As long as you don’t want whiskey.” His chuckle made Vi roll her eyes.
When she went back into her bedroom, she stared around, helpless. It had been incredibly fun to break glasses with Rita. Freeing and sickening at the same time. The emotions had been so intense, the pain and the empathy and the mourning—it was overwhelming. Vi was honored to be entrusted with those feelings, but she was also exhausted.
She took a large breath in. It was going to be all right, she told herself. She made herself remember the sound of Rita’s laugh as they sacrificed the crystal glasses. Day by day. It was just that, selfishly, the grief for the baby brought back the memory of mourning for Aunt Agatha and Vi’s brothers, who died during the Great War. Her throat tightened, trying to bury the pain, but it wouldn’t quite go away.
Why was it that losing someone you loved, even a baby that hadn’t been born yet, regurgitated all of the pain and mourning that had gone before? All the way back to those early memories when Vi and Victor had realized their mother was gone.
Vi shivered as those thoughts crossed her mind. She had been so very young when her mother died that she wasn’t even sure what was memory and what was imagining. She frowned, wondering if she should take a moment to discuss it with her brother and then decided against it. Just because Vi was reliving those memories didn’t mean that Victor needed to as well.
Vi picked up her journal and considered if she wanted to play with the manuscript she and Victor were working on and then shook her head. She had streaks of writing and even escaping through her writing, but her mind wasn’t ready to go there yet.
Violet glanced down, absently noting that her dogs were readily at her feet. She reached down to snuggle each of them and then looked over her shoulder. It was time, past time, to just curl up in the library, drink some cocoa, spend time with friends, and indulge in the drizzle in the air. She glanced around her bedroom and then left it behind, hoping she could find her own happiness to help Rita discover hers.
Chapter 14
When Vi reached the library, she only wished she were surprised by the slew of chalkboards. The biggest surprise, however, was Rita sitting in a comfortable chair, wearing a fresh dress, her hair wrapped in a turban. The curls were still wet, and Vi’s eyes burned with tears at her presence.
“There’s coffee, cocoa, and tea,” Lila told Vi. “Strawberry jam, scones, biscuits, and cucumber sandwiches if you insist.”
Violet poured herself the chocolate and the coffee. She took a sip of one and then the other and grinned with a teacup in each hand. She then crossed to a chair with a small table nearby, se
t the cups down, and crossed back to load a plate with an excess of food.
“Is today a day of indulgences?” Lila asked.
Vi glanced at her scone, thickly slathered with clotted cream and an excess of strawberry jam, and nodded.
“Then I want a cocktail.”
“It’s not even midday,” Kate protested.
“Indeed,” Lila agreed. She crossed to the bar they’d added to the library, pouring herself a G&T and then looked up. “Who else?”
The rest of them paused, eyeing each other, and then they all raised their hands. Lila sounded almost exactly like Denny when she giggled and poured a round of cocktails. As she handed them around, she gave Rita the last one.
“Before Denny and I got married, I realized I was expecting…” Lila blinked rapidly and then hoarsely added. “Denny wasn’t there when I found out, and I wanted to talk to him before we decided anything, but one day I just stood up and there was blood.”
Rita could have been a statue, but Vi gasped. She had no idea. Lila glanced at Vi. They had been nearly sisters since their earliest days at school.
Lila swallowed thickly, her bottom lip shaking. “I’ve never told Denny. I knew he’d mourn and he was already so upset because Father was so determined to keep us apart, so I just…cleaned up and never spoke of it.”
“Lila—” Kate breathed, so softly, with so much empathy that all of them wept.
“I just never spoke of it to anyone. It was awful, but it got better.”
“Lila,” Vi started, but Lila shook her head, lifted her drink, and took another over-sized swallow.
“So,” Lila said, trying to smile and not quite succeeding, “let’s catch this killer, shall we?”
Rita rose and lifted Jack’s small notebook to show she had somewhere to start. A moment later, Rita wrote out Bertha Meyers on the board.
“Vi,” Rita said, “what do you know?”
Vi shook her head. She had three drinks next to her, but the one that might provide a level of alertness was the least compelling. Even still, Vi took a large swallow of her coffee, burned her mouth, whimpered, and then cooled it with the G&T.
