by Essie Lang
“Well, that’s my fault and I’m sorry you had to be the one to face her wrath. We did carry it when it came out last spring, but it took most of the summer for five copies to sell, so I decided to put it on the special orders list. If someone asks for it, we’ll get it in. In hindsight, that was an unwise decision, one I’ll admit to having made after having words with her.”
Shelby smiled. “Glad to hear it. I could have spent all morning browbeating myself if you hadn’t told me.”
“It’s the Cox temper, although I think that, over the years, mine has evened out a bit. So there is hope for you. Maybe you should order a few copies in just to help smooth things over. Ask her to sign them, too. But don’t worry about it anymore. I’ll set it straight with the Heritage Society board. Just between you and me, aside from Andrew Truelove, the president, I don’t think Loreena has too many admirers there either.”
* * *
Before Shelby closed the shop for the day, she did a final walk-through, trying to put herself in the customers’ place. The dark oak flooring continued seamlessly from the main hall. But that’s where the similarity ended. Instead of wood paneling, the walls had been painted something called Willow Wood, giving a fresh, outdoorsy feel to the room. The wall behind the sales counter had been the ideal place to hang an oil painting Shelby had brought in.
The books looked tidy, and numerous titles were appealingly placed face-out. Fiction took up the entire left-hand wall; mysteries were shelved on two free-standing shelving units close to the checkout counter; the right wall had a variety of seasonal nonfiction filed by subject; and the sunroom was bewitching, if she did say so herself, with five-foot shelving between each window and four comfy white wicker chairs decked in bright blue and green cushions and matching white wicker end tables. It was all very inviting for readers to stay a while and find the perfect book.
She found it fascinating that this recent addition to the castle had been built in 2001, when the Heritage Society in Alexandria Bay had decided to put Blye Castle firmly on the tourist map. Their intentions had translated into some creative and effective projects, as witnessed by the boatloads of tourists visiting the island every day during the season.
Tomorrow would be the big day. The first tourists of the summer would set foot on the island at ten AM, and Shelby felt certain she’d be ready for them. She’d preordered several boxes of mini-cupcakes to be served along with freshly brewed coffee. Hopefully, there would be enough for most of the day. However, she’d already been alerted to the fact that no food was allowed in the castle, so shoppers would just have to stay in her shop until they’d finished. She saw that as a major plus. She just had to remember to pick up the treats on her way to the boat in the morning.
Terry’s Boat Lines had agreed to put on an extra sailing of their smaller boat, which was used to get the various staffers and volunteers to the island, an hour early. She felt a small knot in the pit of her stomach and wasn’t quite sure if it was excitement or maybe a touch of dread. She shook her head and took a deep breath. Tomorrow would be a great day. Everything would turn out all right.
Shelby felt an intense pride of ownership, something she’d never experienced before, as she locked the door behind her. She also felt satisfaction in knowing that she’d made the right decision to move back to Alexandria Bay although she had agonized over it. When she thought about it, and that wasn’t often, she did miss her job as an editor at Masspike House, and of course, her small handful of friends, but she doggedly kept her mind from expanding on that thought.
It really was for the best. A good decision. The right decision.
She checked the clock on the wall. Shuttle service had been provided that day in the morning, at noon, and at 4 PM. The last shuttle of the day would arrive in half an hour, and that was her ride back home. She just had time for a short walk around the island. She’d started exploring her first day on-site, a couple of weeks before, a few months after she’d arrived in Alexandria Bay.
She’d felt immediately drawn to the place. The castle, while not on as grand a scale as Boldt Castle or the other main attraction of the Thousand Islands, Singer Castle, had its own history and charm. Blye Castle was almost square in shape, aside from the protruding room where the bookstore was located. The gray stone facade was softened by elegant carvings in the masonry, marking the top of each level. Two turrets rose above the upper corners at the front of the building, and each was flanked by two gargoyles, larger cousins of the smaller one Shelby had done battle with earlier.
The double oak doors, ornately carved and sporting gleaming brass hardware, each had a small window up high and peepholes visible only to those who knew about them. Shelby half expected to see uniformed guards in red tunics and bearskin hats standing at attention on either side.
She’d realized right away why her Aunt Edie was so pleased with the location. It was a tourist magnet, mostly because of the castle and its eclectic history but also because of the lush grounds and the thick grove of trees providing the backdrop. She bet the sunsets were spectacular. Tomorrow she’d find out, but for today, she had just enough time for a quick saunter and then the boat ride back to Alexandria Bay.
She set off along the marked path behind the castle, keeping an eye open for Matthew Kessler and hoping she’d have a chance for a chat to get to know him better. Edie had labeled him gruff, but so far he’d been nothing but helpful and friendly, much to Shelby’s relief. She could handle only one temperamental person at a time.
She picked her way down a grassy slope, looking for the entrance to the famed Blye Grotto, the cave where the illicit rum trade had taken place during Prohibition. It was currently out of bounds to visitors while new hand railings were being added to the pathway. Shelby saw the entrance up ahead and stopped to enjoy the view of the St. Lawrence River. She tried to imagine living there. So isolated and yet so beautiful. She’d heard that Matthew, the only person to live permanently on the island, liked the solitude, but she thought it must also offer so many moments of pleasure. She wondered how he managed over the winter, though.
She swung around at the sound of twigs snapping behind her in time to see a blur of red plaid disappear into the trees. She almost lost her footing, then shook her head and focused on where she was stepping.
It took her eyes a few minutes to adjust to the darkness in the cave. There was minimal light coming from behind her; the main source was the large but sheltered opening in the wall leading to the river. She could hear a boat motor nearby and wondered if her ride had come early. The boat must have passed fairly close by, because small waves lapped at the sides of the cave.
Shelby looked down at the water. It was dark, but not dark enough to hide the fuchsia cloth floating in it. The same color as the top Loreena Swan had been wearing the last time Shelby had seen her.
It took a few seconds for Shelby to realize that the screams echoing through the cave were hers.
Chapter Four
Shelby leaned against a tree, shivering, trying not to think about what she’d just seen, waiting for Matthew to come back. He had heard her scream and come running. After taking a look inside, he’d tried to persuade her to go back to the castle. She’d shaken her head, not certain she could actually walk that far, and instead sat on a tall rock with a flat surface, waiting to be told if what she’d seen was real but all the while hoping it wasn’t.
Matthew had rushed back to his cottage to call the police. He had also grabbed a blanket along with a bottle of Johnnie Walker and two glasses. He’d wrapped the blanket around Shelby and then poured out two portions of the whiskey, handing one glass to her.
Shelby still held hers after taking a sip that burned all the way down. She thought about the fuchsia blouse and took another, longer sip.
“Do you think it’s Loreena?” she whispered.
Matthew walked back to her from the entrance to the cave. He’d already downed his whiskey in one swallow. “It looks like it might well be.”
“She’s definitely dead, isn’t she? What could have happened? Did she slip and fall in? Maybe she hit her head and got knocked out? Was it an accident?”
“Those are all questions I’m sure the police will be asking.”
She wondered at the resentful tone of his voice. Had he had issues with the police in the past, the past about which Aunt Edie had said she’d someday share more information with her?
They could hear a large motor getting closer. Matthew turned to look toward the water. “And that would be them. I’ll meet them at the dock and lead the way. You sure you don’t want to come back up to the castle now? The shuttle has already arrived, but the police relayed strict instructions that it was not to leave.”
“No. I’ll wait here. She shouldn’t be alone.”
That thought sent a tremor through her body, and she pulled the blanket even tighter around her. Shelby had always had a healthy fear of water—why, she wasn’t sure—but she could think of nothing worse than drowning, especially in such a desolate place. And even though she hadn’t known Loreena well and knew there was no chance they’d ever have been friends, maybe not even on friendly terms, Shelby wouldn’t have wished this fate on her.
Matthew patted her shoulder and headed toward the castle.
Shelby wasn’t sure how long she sat there waiting for the police, her mind toying with all the questions she’d asked earlier. She added a new one: What was Loreena doing out here anyway? The sound of footsteps making their way along the path alerted her that the police must be approaching. She took a deep breath and stood.
Matthew led the way, and he gave Shelby a tight smile as he walked past her. An older cop followed. The light-blue shirt of his uniform had a couple of twigs stuck to one sleeve, and he carried his hat in his hands. He nodded at Shelby as he walked past her and into the cave. The second officer was a woman about her Aunt Edie’s age, wearing a dark-blue uniform with the Alexandria Bay Police crest on both sleeves. She hesitated and looked like she might say something to Shelby, but instead she continued walking toward the grotto. Shelby noticed another guy dressed casually in jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black windbreaker break away from the first two and make his way down toward the edge and the ten-foot drop to the water. Matthew stood like a sentinel, staring straight ahead.
Shelby wondered at the transformation in him. No acknowledgment of the police. No effort to assist in any way. In fact, he looked like he’d temporarily tuned out. Had the shock finally set in?
After what seemed like an unbearably long time, the first cop reappeared and walked over to her. He stuck out his hand. “Lieutenant Dwayne Guthrie, State Police. And you are?” he asked.
“Uh, Shelby Cox. I’m from the bookstore.”
Guthrie nodded. “Kessler tells me you found the body. Tell me about it.”
Before she had a chance to answer, the woman joined them. “I’m Tekla Stone, chief of police in Alexandria Bay.” Her gaze was intense, but Shelby felt relaxed in her presence.
“Ms. Cox, you were going to tell me about finding the body?” Guthrie sounded irritated.
She desperately wanted another sip of the whiskey, but she straightened her shoulders and tried to sound confident. “I’d decided to take a walk before leaving today, and I ended up at the grotto, so I went in. And that’s when I saw her. That fuchsia top … I remembered Loreena Swan had worn that color today. It is her, isn’t it?”
Guthrie nodded. “Did you touch anything in there?”
“Like what? The wall, I guess, but mainly to guide me out.”
“So, there was nothing lying on the ground?” His eyes seemed to bore into her.
“Not that I saw, but I didn’t really look around. All I saw was the … the body.”
He stared at her a few moments and then switched his gaze to the pathway. “Did you see anyone on your way over here?”
She started to shake her head, and then remembered. Chief Stone picked up on the hesitation.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I’m not sure, but I sort of thought I saw a flash of a red shirt or something bright in the forest.”
“Hm.” Stone looked over at Matthew, still in his red plaid shirt. “But you’re not sure?”
“No, I’m not. But I did hear a small motorboat while I was inside. It must have been close, because it caused a small wake in the grotto. That’s when I looked down and saw … I saw …” She was seeing it again in her mind.
Stone looked at Guthrie and nodded. She placed her hand on Shelby’s arm. “That’ll be all for now, Ms. Cox. I’d like you to stop by the station later today or tomorrow. I’ll need a formal statement from you.”
“All right.” Shelby stood there watching as the woman walked back to the cave. Somehow her brain didn’t feel connected, and she wasn’t sure what to do next.
Stone glanced at her, then finally said, “You can go now. I don’t think you should stay any longer.”
Matthew started toward Shelby, as if to follow her.
“You, Kessler, stay right here. I have some questions for you.”
Chapter Five
Shelby poured a cup of tea for Edie and was about to get the plate of chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen when Edie pushed herself up out of the straight-backed chair and, with the aid of her walker, worked her way over to the china cabinet, opened the top doors, and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Southern Comfort.
“I think this will suit us better,” she said. “We’ll have the tea as a chaser.”
Her long, multicolored tie-dyed skirt barely rustled, she moved so slowly. She’d said her right thigh felt stiff and that’s what gave her the most grief at the moment, but after physiotherapy, which would start in two weeks, she was hoping she would be back to normal fairly quickly. And that would mean it wouldn’t be long before she was back where she belonged, behind the cash register in the main bookstore on James Street in the village.
Shelby acknowledged a tiny twitch in her stomach at that realization. It was Edie’s store, or stores, even if they were partners on paper. Edie was the history, but maybe Shelby could be the future. That cheered her a bit. She admitted to herself that she was surprised by such a strong reaction. When she’d first returned to Alexandria Bay, she’d believed it would be for a short time, just until Edie was feeling one hundred percent and back to work full time in the bookstore. Now …
Edie deftly poured each of them a finger’s worth and urged Shelby to down it. As the burning sensation trickled down, Shelby felt the tension easing. What a day. She noticed that Edie did the same with her own drink, even though she hadn’t been there in person. Of course, she had known Loreena, and no matter how well they had gotten along, or hadn’t, it would still have been shocking news.
“Do you know anything about her family, Aunt Edie?” Shelby asked. Even though she also hadn’t felt all warm and fuzzy about the woman, she felt bad for whoever was left behind. She knew it wasn’t easy to cope with the death of a loved one.
“Loreena’s? She has a nephew, Carter, and it’s an old family in Alexandria Bay, and that means almost everyone knows her or someone in her family. She always prided herself on her heritage.”
Edie poured herself a drink and sipped it and then tucked some strands of long salt-and-pepper hair back behind her ears rather than taking the time to undo the barrette that held the rest of it back.
Shelby stared out the window, eyes focused on the backyard garden, Edie’s pride and joy. Previously, the house had belonged to Edie’s parents. It was the house Shelby’s dad had grown up in, and that was part of the reason she’d come back to Alexandria Bay, to find out more about her family and especially her mother.
“You know, I’m feeling really terrible about the things I said and thought about Loreena earlier today. I mean, what if she was just having an off day and I’ve now fixed her in my mind as the wicked witch of the North?”
“Believe me, honey, from what you said, it wasn’t an off day for the woman.
It was a normal one. I told you there was no love lost on the Heritage Society board for her, except for the chair, who, as it turns out, is a cousin of hers. To Loreena’s credit, she was passionate about her work. It’s her people skills that were lacking. Now, I know it’s not been a good start at the castle, and I also know this may sound a little crass at this point, but are you up to going through with the opening tomorrow?”
“I was wondering if they might postpone it?”
“No, I checked, and it’s on as planned. Oh, the Society will do or say something fitting about Loreena before the doors open, I’d imagine, but they don’t want to put off the tourist trade. I just know how upsetting this has been for you, and if you’d rather not go back this soon, I can make other arrangements.”
Shelby sat up a bit straighter. “No, I’ll be fine. After all, it’s not as if her body was found in the bookstore, or even inside the castle. Oops, did that sound harsh?”
Edie reached over and touched her hand lightly. The three brass bracelets dangling from her left wrist made a light tinkling sound. “No, I know exactly what you mean. I’m really sorry I brought you into all of this. I was hoping to hook you into staying on with the store. A body certainly doesn’t help. Now, how about we tackle some of that aromatic food you brought.”
Shelby walked to the counter, pulled two containers out of the oven, and dished out the lasagna she’d picked up at Tuckers Italian and Seafood Restaurant on her way over. It had taken only fifteen minutes to reheat.
“Oh my, that smells heavenly. Very thoughtful of you, Shelby.”
“My pleasure.”
They ate in silence that was occasionally disturbed by mumblings of food pleasure. Finally, after Edie had finished off the last bit of lasagna on her plate, Shelby asked, “Will you fill me in on more about Matthew Kessler’s background?”
