by Wendy Heuvel
“Positive. I saw it whiz past my head.”
“Maybe the squirrel knocked it down?” Lexy gazed up the stairs, wide-eyed.
“Or maybe it was the ghost, right?” Cassie scoffed. “Is that what you really want to say?”
“Of course not.” Lexy stepped closer to Brent.
“Let’s take another look.” He directed his flashlight up the stairs.
The girls followed Brent to the second floor, where he proceeded to examine the hallway. “There’s no table here the vase could have fallen from.”
“See?”
“Let’s do another thorough search. But stay with me.”
Brent went downstairs to start on the ground floor. Cassie and Lexy followed closely behind, helping him search closets and large furniture for any possible hiding place he might have missed his first time through. They paused at the back door, taking a moment to double-check the mound of snow blown up against it. No one had used this door in a long time.
A small door in the kitchen led to a crawl space under the house. The girls followed him down the shaky wooden staircase and waited at the bottom while Brent hunched over to walk around. The room was mostly empty, save for a few old crates, and only took moments to search. Then they headed back up to the second floor, checked every room and closet, and finally went up to the attic.
Cassie gasped. All the crates and trunks had been opened, and their contents were strewn about. Before, it was difficult to get around. Now it was near impossible. “Wow, this is crazy! Did the forensics team do this?”
“Definitely not. They would never be so disrespectful.” Lexy hugged herself and shivered. “It certainly wasn’t like this when we left.”
Brent nodded. “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but Lexy’s right. All the things and paintings that you noticed had been touched? That wasn’t from us.”
“Then there is someone in here. Or at least there was.” Cassie rubbed her chin. “And that someone is looking for something.”
“Likely something which ties them to the murder,” Brent added.
Cassie gasped. “So, it was Marilyn’s killer in here with me?”
“Looks that way.”
“Do you think they found whatever they were looking for?” Lexy’s eyes darted around the room.
“No.” Cassie shook her head. “If they had, they wouldn’t still have been here when I showed up.”
“Lexy, call head office. We’re going to need another team here.” Brent stepped over a pile of old clothes. “I’m going to do one more search up here while we wait.”
Cassie rubbed her temples. “How did the killer get past us? Where did he go?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. But I know where you’re going to go. You’re going to work—at your store.”
Cassie nodded. “Okay.”
“And you will not come back to this mansion by yourself, or approach a suspect by yourself, or do anything that could jeopardize your safety. Do you understand?”
“But you wanted my help on the last murder case. Don’t you remember? You had me spying on potential suspects.”
Brent shone the flashlight directly into Cassie’s eyes. “That was different. There were people around you at all times. Including Daniel. And that does not mean you can go get him to come here with you.”
Cassie grinned.
“I’m serious, Cass. This isn’t a joke. Someone who’s gotten away with murder for this long wouldn’t think twice about doing it again.”
“At least they’re old and feeble.” Lexy kicked a crate out of her way.
“Old, yes.” Brent nodded. “Feeble, maybe not. But likely also not afraid of a life sentence at their age.”
Cassie gulped. “Okay. I get it. I’ll pull back.”
“Good. And promise me you’ll come directly to me with any other information you might come across.”
“I promise.” Cassie thought about the fact that Marilyn had worked at Boersley’s Grocery. Did that count? Brent probably knew already anyway. He would’ve had Marilyn’s social insurance number searched and seen her places of employment.
What about Cassie’s visits to Charles and Edward? It’s not like she’d learned anything extra. And if she mentioned it now, it was only going to make Brent angrier. Best to leave it alone.
She sighed. The earlier conversation with Lexy ran through her mind. Was Lexy right? Was Cassie wrapping herself up in this case to avoid dealing with her feelings for Daniel? Or the breakup with Spencer? She shrugged off the notion as quickly as it had appeared. How ridiculous. A woman had been murdered. In Cassie’s favourite mansion. Justice needed to be served, and Cassie would do all she could to see this mystery through.
“Cassie?” Brent raised his eyebrows at her. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing. Just that I have to get to work.”
Chapter 15
The bells jingled as Maggie walked through the front door of Olde Crow Primitives. “I brought you a bagel.”
“Thanks. I haven’t eaten yet today.” Cassie took the bag as Maggie whisked by on her way to the coat rack at the back.
“I figured as much.”
“Rowr?” Pumpkin stood up in her bed behind the counter and stretched out her front paws.
“Aunt Maggie’s here.” Cassie scratched the cat under the chin, pulled the bagel out of the bag, and took a big bite.
Maggie joined Cassie behind the cash counter and rubbed Pumpkin’s ears. “Have you recovered from the attack this morning?”
“It wasn’t an attack. I’m perfectly fine.”
Maggie raised her brows. “Not an attack? Someone tried to kill you.”
“And they missed.” Cassie grinned.
“I’m not smiling. You put yourself in harm’s way too often, nowadays.”
“But I’ve also helped catch several murderers.”
Maggie pulled a basket of ribbon out from under the counter. Pumpkin swatted at a loose strand as it moved past her whiskers. “True. But you’ve had too many close calls in the process.” She set the basket on the counter and placed her hands on her flat belly. “This little guy or gal wants to meet their aunt.”
“And I can’t wait to meet him or her.” Cassie grinned and grabbed a roll of loose ribbon, pulled it tight, and worked at rewinding it.
“We’re going to tell the girls this weekend.”
“They’ll be so excited!”
“I think so, too. Until they figure out they’ll have to share a room when the baby comes.”
Cassie laughed. “It’ll be good for them.”
“We’ll see.” Maggie eyed the back wall in the direction of The Book Nook. “What did Daniel have to say about your little escapade this morning?”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“What? Why not? I would’ve thought you’d have called him before me.”
Cassie shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry him.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Maggie snatched the ribbon from Cassie’s hand, tossed it back in the basket, and used both hands to shove Cassie out from behind the counter and toward the back of the store. “Go see him. And take your time—I can handle the crowd.”
Cassie eyed the empty store and grinned. “If you say so.” She let herself out the back door and into the hallway between Olde Crow Primitives and The Book Nook but hesitated at the bookstore door.
She pondered a moment, trying to recall how many times she’d stood outside this door, thinking things through before entering. And why was she apprehensive this time? Was she anxious about upsetting him? Or was it something else?
Her mind was tired. Cassie shook her head and let herself into The Book Nook.
“Hi!” Daniel’s eyes lit up like they always did when he first saw her.
Cassie wondered if hers did the same. “Time for a tea?”
Daniel looked back and forth around the store, devoid of customers. “Uh, I think I can spare a minute.” He winked.
“How are
your legs today?” Cassie looked down at Daniel’s snug-fitting jeans and felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I mean, are you sore? From skating?” Her face had definitely turned red.
“I’m managing. You?”
“Fine. A bit sore, but not too bad. I went for a walk this morning.”
Daniel walked over to the coffee bar, put a tea pod in the machine, and shoved Cassie’s favourite cat mug under the spout. “I heard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Brent gave me a call earlier.”
Cassie sighed and leaned her shoulder against the nearest bookshelf. “Brent has a big mouth.”
“He’s concerned about your safety.”
“Did he ask you to babysit me or something?”
“Something like that.” Daniel turned and handed Cassie her mug, a grin on his face.
She grabbed the mug and headed over to the chairs in front of the fireplace. “I’m not an irresponsible kid.”
“Then maybe you should stop acting like one.” Daniel sat beside her, his own coffee in hand.
“You’re not being very nice,” she huffed and folded her legs crisscross applesauce on the chair.
“The truth hurts sometimes.”
“I’m just trying to solve the case.”
“And we just care deeply about you.” Daniel tucked a loose curl behind her ear.
Cassie closed her eyes at his touch and sighed. “I know. Sorry. I’m feeling a bit on edge.”
“Because of this morning?”
“No. Maybe. I’m not sure.” Why was she on edge? She should feel shaken up from the events of the day, but she wasn’t. She hadn’t been hurt, and they had another lead for the case. Brent and the other officers would be at the house all day, searching for whatever the killer had been trying to find.
Daniel continued to lean toward her. “There’s frustration in your eyes. Is the case getting to you?”
“A little. But no, that’s not it either.” Cassie held Daniel’s gaze and softened under the spell of his blue eyes. Suddenly it hit her. “It’s Lexy. And Maggie. And everyone else who’s pressuring me.”
“Why are they pressuring you? Pressuring you into what?”
Cassie smiled at him.
“Oh,” he said. “I see.”
“Lexy told me I’m afraid of a relationship with you.”
“Are you?”
Cassie dropped her gaze to the floor. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I’m afraid of a failing relationship. One I cause to go wrong because I forged ahead of God.”
“Like it did with Spencer?”
She nodded.
Daniel put his hand under her chin and directed her gaze back to him. “Did you ever think maybe it didn’t work out with Spencer because he wasn’t the one you were supposed to be with?”
“But that’s exactly it. I misunderstood God and forged ahead. And in the process, I hurt Spencer, myself... and you.”
“I’m fine.” He touched his hand to his chest. “How about you? Do you still love Spencer?”
“No. Why does everyone keep asking me that? I never loved him.”
“Do you still have feelings for Spencer?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. That’s not it either.”
“So, I’m okay—and you’re okay. That’s two out of three.”
“And what about the third? What about Spencer? What I did to him was horrible and unfair.”
Daniel’s hand shifted to her knee. “Stop beating yourself up. You weren’t horrible. Not at all. If you were horrible, you would’ve stuck with it even when you knew it wasn’t right. You would have lied to him, or to yourself.”
“I guess.” Cassie carefully rocked her mug and watched the tea swirl back and forth. She could feel Daniel’s eyes still on her.
“What else is there?”
Cassie shrugged. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”
“Moving ahead of God, you mean?”
She nodded.
“And have you talked to God about it recently?”
She picked at the handle of her mug. Had she? The last thing God had told her concerning Daniel was to wait. But for what? She’d waited, and he’d become a Christian. A man strong in his faith. Was she still supposed to wait?
“Cassie?”
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to rush ahead and ruin any chance of...”
“Of what, Cassie?”
She reached out and put her hand on Daniel’s cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He reached across her arm and held her cheek, too.
“Then why do I feel so afraid?”
Daniel swiped one of her escaped tears with his thumb. “I don’t know. But I think you should take it to God.”
“And what if He doesn’t answer me right away? What if it takes time, and what if—”
“I said, I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned in even closer.
Cassie breathed in his scent of cinnamon and leather. She looked at his lips and the spot of stubble on his chin he’d missed while shaving.
She inched closer, and closer—
Ding. Ding.
The electric chime on the bookstore door rang as a customer entered. Daniel and Cassie both jumped a few inches in their chairs and separated before their lips could connect.
“Please. Give me a bit more time,” Cassie whispered.
Daniel grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Take all the time you need.” He rose and walked up to the elderly customer. “Hi. Can I help you find anything today?”
Chapter 16
Cassie pushed back a box flap and drew a set of rustic canisters labelled for coffee, tea, and flour, out of the box. She set them on the nearest display table next to a crock of aged wooden spoons and went to the cash counter to get a few price tags.
It had been another quiet morning at Olde Crow Primitives, and Cassie was grateful. Puttering around in the store gave her time to think. Not that she didn’t do enough thinking as she’d tossed and turned all night, replaying the almost-kiss with Daniel in her mind and mulling over the murder case.
Lexy had called late last evening, with Brent’s permission, to let Cassie know the police search at the mansion hadn’t turned up anything unusual or anything that could be construed as a link to the murderer.
Cassie thought again about the vase sailing past her head. Someone had been in the house, and someone had been searching for something. How did they get by her? And Brent? The investigative team spent extra time searching for secret passageways but had come up empty. Overall, the layout didn’t even allow for extra space between rooms.
What was she missing?
She fastened a price tag to the canister set with a string and dug her hands back in the box to pull out a few wooden cutting boards with handles and pictures of farm animals painted on them. She stacked them on the table, examining the space and figuring out the best way to display them. She tried standing them on their ends to make it easy to see each picture.
And then there was Daniel. What had she done? She’d almost kissed him—again. It had happened once before. Cassie silently thanked God for the customer’s interruption. How could she have almost allowed a kiss to occur? And right as they were discussing her need to wait!
She shook her head. She was doing precisely the opposite of what waiting required. Overall, her behaviour had contradicted her words. It’s almost as if she’d promised Daniel she would end up with him, as long as he was patient. But didn’t that defeat the purpose of waiting? Of not barging ahead of God? She was waiting because she wasn’t sure. And she didn’t want to mess things up if he was the one God wanted her to be with.
The cutting boards toppled over like dominoes and knocked one of the metal canisters off the table. Cassie sighed and picked it up. Yup. Her life was ready to fall to pieces just like dominoes—one thing after another.
She stacked the boards into a pile as the bells on the door
jingled and Grams walked in. “Hello, dear!” She placed two coffee cups from Java Junction on the counter.
Pumpkin jumped up from her hiding spot. “Rowr!”
“Hello, Pumpkin.” Grams pulled off a glove to stroke the cat’s back.
“Hey, Grams. Thanks for the tea.”
“Thought I’d save you a trip out into the cold.” She went to hang up her coat.
“Thanks. The temperature really dropped today.” Cassie wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “My apartment windows were all frosted this morning.”
Grams came back around the corner and tugged on the bottom of her sweater. “I don’t mind too much. It’s nice to get some fresh, cold air. The other residents at the manor have their heat turned way up. It’s all I can do not to turn on my air conditioning.”
Cassie laughed. “They’re not all as fit as you, Grams. Most of them are frail and cold all the time.”
“I hope the day never comes where I’d rather sit under an afghan and stare out the window than come down here and work with you.” She gave Cassie’s hand a squeeze and looked at her face. “What’s bothering you, dear? You have a far away look in your eye.”
Should she talk about Daniel? Grams had always shared wisdom and been really helpful no matter what the topic, but Cassie didn’t feel like talking about relationships right now. She’d settle for the other option instead. “This case has me baffled.”
“What case?”
“The murder? In the old mansion?”
“Oh, the Howard girl. Yes, so heartrending. She was such a sweet girl.”
Cassie placed both hands on the counter. “Wait! You knew her?”
“Not well, but she worked with my friend Martha at Boersley’s.”
“Do you remember anything about what happened? Please! Tell me everything.”
Grams rolled her head side to side to stretch out her neck. “Let me see. That was when... 1967?”
“Sixty-eight.”
“Right. I was... twenty-six and pregnant with Thomas. Your mother Sandra was three, so Michael would’ve been five, and Mary seven.”
“Wow.” Cassie let the thought of all those young kids marinate in her brain. Her grandmother was a trooper.
