Secrets and Stilettos (Murder In Style Book 1)

by Gina LaManna

  “What are you sighing about?” Allie plopped herself across from me and unloaded her scarf and mittens without asking permission to join me at the window. “Oh, is that the new dress from the store? It’s cute. Is it true you ruined Mrs. Duvet’s entire house last night?”

  “What? No!” I blinked, horrified. “Where’d you here that?”

  She shrugged. “Word has a way of getting into my ears. That, and I like to gossip with the old ladies.”

  Fortunately, the conversation stalled when one of June’s servers appeared with a pot of hot coffee and poured out mugs for both of us. I pulled my spring green cup toward me and took a sip, preferring to burn my tongue rather than delve into last night’s fiasco.

  “Say, remember you said you’d help style my mother?” Allie blurted. “I was wondering if we could set something up. I didn’t pick a date on that planner thing before you left yesterday because I wanted to check with my mom first. I offered to style her myself, but she told me I was nuts. She has a different taste in clothes than me. Maybe demure would be the right word for her style.”

  “Halleluiah.” Today, Allie had gone for faux-leather pants and a hot pink turtleneck. It was certainly interesting. “What I mean is that I’d love to set something up on the calendar. Pick a date and let me know.”

  “Okay,” Allie said. “Now, tell me more about the total destruction of Mrs. Duvet’s house.”

  “There wasn’t total destruction! I tripped over someone’s foot and spilled a few drinks. We’re paying for carpet cleaning.”

  “Did you find out anything more about the you-know-what?” Allie asked, lowering her voice. “You know, the whole reason Mrs. Beasley set you up to work there in the first place?”

  “If you mean Grant’s murder, then, no.” I wasn’t about to tell this little conspiracy theorist about the break-in at my house. I was beginning to suspect she was behind half the gossip in the community. “It’s a slow-moving investigation.”

  “I heard Grant took a lover a couple weeks ago.” Allie spoke in a constrained, dramatic hiss. “That seems just like him, don’t you think? What if this mystery woman killed him?”

  “Where’d you hear that? I don’t think it’s true.”

  “Well, he dated Becky Turner, didn’t you hear that?”

  “Um—”

  “You need to spend more time listening when you’re at June’s.” Allie shook her head. “The gossip is all here, ripe for picking—you just have to know where to reach for it.”

  “What do you know about Becky Turner?”

  “Well, she dated Grant. She says things weren’t serious, but I don’t believe her.”

  “Why not?”

  As I pondered this, I realized Becky’s stalking behaviors would make a lot more sense if things had been more serious between her and Grant than she’d let on. Especially if she’d thought I’d been the first woman to date Grant after they’d broken up...and she wasn’t ready to move on.

  “Well, Becky seemed very upset by the breakup,” Allie said. “Which didn’t make any sense, really, because she told everyone that she broke things off with Grant. I mean, we all know Becky is a little nutso to start with, so we all just thought that was her way of dealing with it.”

  “Did she say why she broke things off?”

  “Something about Grant not being interested in taking things to the next level.”

  “How do we know if that’s true?” I mused aloud. “Considering the gossip that’s been circling around town about me—I’m hesitant to believe much of anything I hear secondhand. We need to find out if Grant dated someone after Becky from the source.”

  “The police force is basically one man and some bored volunteers.” Allie spoke in hushed tones and glanced over her shoulder. “I bet they secretly want our help. After all, they haven’t found anyone, which means there’s still a killer on the loose!”

  “I’m not so sure—”

  “We could sneak into Grant’s hotel room. He was staying over in Blueberry Lake for a bachelor weekend with his buddies.”

  “Sorry, what?” I made a gesture to reverse with my pointer finger. “Back up and start over. How would we be able to sneak into any hotel room? And wouldn’t the police have already searched it?”

  “Yeah, but like I said—they’ve got one man on the job,” Allie persisted. “I can get us the key to the hotel room. What do you say we give a quick peek around in case there was something he missed?”

  “That sounds like a bad idea,” I said. “Sneaking into hotel rooms isn’t really my thing. What are you expecting to find?”

  “Love letters, phone numbers, lingerie,” she said with a shrug. “Who knows? It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? Especially since I can get us the key to the room.”

  “How can you get us the key to a hotel room? That has to be illegal in so many ways.”

  “Not if the receptionist has a huge crush on me,” Allie said proudly. “He’d lend it to me for five minutes. Plus, what is it going to hurt? Grant’s already dead—nobody’s going in or out of that room anymore.”

  “Exactly, which is why we shouldn’t, either.”

  “Fine.” Allie leaned back as the server came over and planted two huge plates with a Belgian waffle on each in front of us. “I’ll go alone.”

  “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

  “Let me clarify.” She dumped a spoonful of butter onto her plate. “I’m going just as soon as I finish my waffle. You can come with me or not...it’s up to you.”

  “THIS IS A HORRIBLE idea,” I said. “And if we end up in prison, I am never styling you or your mother.”

  “I don’t want you to style me,” Allie said. “I have perfect style.”

  “Not for breaking and entering!” I whispered as we strived to walk nonchalantly down the hallway toward the room at the end of the first floor. “You’re squeaking with every step you take.”

  “It’s the leather pants. They’re a massive distraction. Nobody will ever suspect me of being a spy.”

  “Because you’re not a spy!”

  “Lighten up, will you?” Allie paused outside of room 102. “Brayden said this room has been checked out through the end of the week—you know, for the wedding. He thinks all of Grant’s stuff is still in there, minus whatever the police took.”

  “Who’s Brayden?”

  “The front desk guy,” Allie said impatiently. “I told you, he’s got a thing for me. How’d you think I got the key to Grant’s room?”

  “I didn’t think you had a key!”

  She pulled out a thin keycard and flashed it in my face. “You can say a massive thank-you to the way my behind looks in these pants. I told him I’d lent Grant a few things and wanted to get them back.”

  “He still shouldn’t have given you a key.”

  “Probably not, but who’s gonna tell? The police have already been through here and taken what they wanted, and Grant’s not coming back.”

  She did have a point, so I shut my mouth and tried to convince myself that I was doing the town a favor by investigating a murderer. I focused on room 102, surprised at the lack of caution-tape and flashing lights. Then I realized this wasn’t exactly a crime scene, nor was it a movie set, and the hotel probably hadn’t wanted to draw attention to the fact one of its guests had been killed.

  “Go on,” I said. “Before someone spots us standing out here.”

  “Calm yourself.” Allie plunked the keycard into the door. “We’ll be out of here in a second.”

  Once we were both inside, I let the door close behind me and turned to face Grant’s belongings. It was odd being in a dead man’s room, knowing he would never be back to collect his things.

  His suitcase sat propped open with the contents haphazardly thrown around, as if he’d dug through it before deciding what to wear at the last minute. A few nicer pieces of clothing hung in the closet, and a backpack was situated at the end of his bed.

  Other than that, the room was close to empty.


  I began with the drawers, the closet, and the large spaces first. There was nothing in the most obvious spaces—which wasn’t surprising. Most people who had something to hide weren’t going to leave it sitting on their pillow.

  I began the more careful task of digging through Grant’s backpack and then his suitcase while Allie took charge of the bathroom. I didn’t find much aside from normal clothing: workout attire, socks, boxers, and a pair of jeans lined his suitcase.

  Grant had a book situated in his bag—the latest John Grisham novel in hardcover. It was in great shape, and I briefly flirted with the idea of adopting it for my own shelves, but I decided that was a step too far. A shame because books like this one were costly, especially on my shoestring budget.

  I carefully closed the cover and began returning it to the bag when Allie popped out of the bathroom and startled me.

  “Find anything?”

  “Cripes, you scared me!” I whipped around so quickly the jacket of the book flew off as I rested a hand over my heart. “I’m jumpy being in here. Give me some warning.”

  “Warning for what?” Allie gave me a quizzical glance. “Next time I talk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, there’s nothing worth mentioning in the bathroom. You should’ve said you found something!” Allie bent over, pulling a few scattered papers from the ground. “These look like notes.”

  I frowned. “They weren’t there a second ago. They must have—oh, look.” I held up the Grisham book where a similar looking note protruded from behind the dust jacket. “Our man Grant tucked a few love letters in here.”

  “Right,” Allie said, her voice quiet as she read the letters. “Except this doesn’t sound much like love to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I wish you were dead,” Allie read aloud. “You’ll get what’s coming to you—mark my words.”

  My eyebrows raised. “Looks like he might have had a mystery woman after all.”

  “And she wasn’t very happy,” Allie said. “However, there’s no signature.”

  “There are more notes,” I said. “Maybe we’ll find one of them that’s signed. Let’s keep digging.”

  “We’ve probably only got about ten minutes,” Allie said. “Despite the fabulousness of my leather pants, Brayden doesn’t like me that much. If we take too long, he just might realize something’s fishy.”

  “In that case,” I said. “Let’s do things this way.”

  I pulled out my phone and quickly snapped a photo of each letter. Then I replaced them carefully behind the book’s dust jacket and tucked everything back where I found it. Allie and I were just stepping out of Grant’s room when I heard a familiar voice at the front desk.

  “Close the door!” I hissed to Allie. “Hurry!”

  Cooper Dear came around the corner just as we reached the halfway point in the hallway. “Well, long time no see,” he said, scanning his eyes over the pair of us. “To what do I owe the pleasure of finding the two of you here?”

  “Exercising,” I said. “With all the snow, we couldn’t walk outside. And with all of June’s cooking, I won’t be able to fit into my clothes if I don’t get in some cardio.”

  “Right. And what will I find if I pull the security tapes?” Cooper looked me in the eye. “Any thoughts on that, Miss McGovern?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” I said, biting my lip and searching for a clever answer while I wondered if my hair would look good on camera. Security tapes had a way of making me look all disheveled no matter how much effort I put into my hair. Since I couldn’t come up with an answer, and I didn’t want the chief to pull tapes and see me all out of sorts, I opted for the naked truth. “You’ll find something that I wouldn’t want you to see...if you pull the tapes. But maybe we can call a truce if I tell you that there’s something worth noting in Grant’s room. We didn’t move anything from its original place—I swear.”

  “We already searched the room.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “A birdie told me two young women were strolling the hallways of the hotel,” Cooper said. “I thought I’d do my duty and check it out.”

  “Forget about us,” I said. “But if you’d like my advice, search Grant’s room again. This time, try the dust jacket on the latest Grisham book in Grant’s backpack. You might just find something of interest.”

  We left the chief staring after us as Allie and I scurried out the front doors. I exhaled a sigh of relief once we reached fresh air.

  “Dang,” Allie said once we were outside. “That enemies-to-lovers plot is really heating up, isn’t it? I’ll tell you what...if you let me win the pot, I’ll share the money with you.”

  “You are ridiculous.”

  “Don’t you want to know how much it is?”

  I considered. I did want to know because I was cursed with curiosity. But I was also cursed with stubbornness, and I didn’t need to know that bad.

  “Nah,” I said finally. “Ignorance is bliss.”

  Allie and I climbed back into my truck, and I turned us back in the direction of my mother’s store. Allie was the first to break the silence.

  “Who do you think wrote the notes?” she asked, staring out the window. “Do you think it was the murderer? Could it be Becky? Or a mystery woman?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But we know for a fact someone—or some ones—wanted him dead. We just have to find out who made good on their word.”

  Chapter 14

  The last thing I wanted to do was return home to an empty house that’d been broken into by a homicidal maniac with a thing against shoes. I’d have to go back sooner or later, but in the meantime, I decided to stall while dropping Allie off at Something Old for her shift.

  “I’m late,” Allie said when I pulled into the parking lot. “It’s twelve fifteen.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll explain to my mother.” I turned the car off and slid down from the seat. “Come along—I can’t stay all day.”

  “What else do you have to do? More murder stuff?”

  “Keep your voice down,” I said. “Maybe, but I can’t tell you. Top secret.”

  Allie pushed the door open. “Hi, Bea. Sorry I’m late; I was helping Jenna out on some—”

  “—recon work for the store,” I said. “Shopping the latest fashions, that sort of thing.”

  “Right, sure,” my mother said, midway through stocking a rack of scarves. “Hop on the register and open things up, Allie. Then you can straighten the bra rack, please.”

  Allie leaned closer to me and lowered her voice. “I bet James Bond never worked a day job straightening bras.”

  “Nah, he’s more of a flipping burgers sort of guy,” I whispered back. “Thanks for your help this morning, Allie. And tell your mother my schedule is wide open whenever she’d like to come in for an appointment.”

  My mother waited until Allie was caught up in the undergarments before sidling over to me and dropping her voice. “More murder stuff?” she asked quizzically. “Tell me I heard Allie wrong.”

  “You heard Allie wrong,” I parroted.

  “Now, mean it when you say it.”

  “Mother, I’m still not out of the woods on this case!”

  “Chief Dear is not going to arrest you. He’s taking you on a date tonight!”

  “You need to stop spreading rumors. We do not have a date tonight—we are simply both going to be in the same place at the same time. It’d be a sin to miss the event. The entire bridal party is going, and I need to keep an eye on what’s happening with them.”

  “Are you going to sit next to him?”

  “Who?”

  “Cooper! Who else?” My mother waved a hand. “I’m not interested in that murder stuff—we know you didn’t do it, so leave that to the professionals. I’m interested in ensuring my daughter’s happiness.”

  “You just focus on your own happiness.”

  “I have Sid. I’m overjoyed.”

  “I kn
ow, mother. You and Sid don’t exactly keep quiet about your joy.” I rolled my eyes and tapped my chest. “My happiness is coming from within.”

  “You keep rolling your eyes, and they’ll get stuck like that. Then you’ll never find happiness from within because your eyes will be staring in all different directions.”

  “That’s a physical impossibility.”

  “You never know!” My mother shrugged one shoulder. “I think you should reconsider about this evening. Make it official.”

  “Cooper didn’t ask me on a date. He just asked if I was going to bingo.”

  She frowned. “Maybe he’s just shy.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I don’t think so. Just leave it alone, okay?”

  “Fine, then how about your job?”

  “What?”

  “If I can’t comment on your love life, I need to worry about something else. It’s my motherly responsibility.”

  “I relieve you of your motherly responsibility,” I said, reaching for an empty clothes hanger and touching each of my mother’s shoulders with it, knighting her. “I absolve you from worrying about my private business.”

  My mother shooed the hanger away. “It’s not so much your personal business if it involves my shop.” She gave me a knowing stare. “I’m worried about you, Jenna. Gran’s place will need some repairs this summer; Sid and I will help out if we can, but...”

  Her meaning was clear. Jenna, get your act together, she said with her eyes. Stop moping around and do something with your life.

  “I get it,” I told her. “I came home to support you and the store. What can I do to help you?”

  “I can’t afford to hire another full-time employee,” my mother said. “I wish I could, but I would have to fire someone, and—”

  I waved a hand. “Out of the question. Don’t fire someone. I just want to help. What can I do? My attempts at styling didn’t turn out so well.”

  “I think that was a problem with the clientele,” my mother said. “Did I hear you say Allie’s mother is interested in your services?”

  “Yes, but she’s the only one,” I said. “I think I scared the rest of them off with the murder charges. Which is not actually my fault!” I said louder, to the rest of the empty store, just in case. “I’m not good at much outside of shopping. I don’t know, mom. I’m stuck here in this tiny little town, and I don’t know what to do about it. I want to help you, but I’m afraid I’ll only make things worse.”