Mulberry Mischief

by Sharon Farrow

  “We won’t. But I told Kit to meet me here.”

  He pointed at my silver gown. “I like your costume. You should wear the white wig all the time. It makes you look like a princess or queen.”

  “That’s the idea. I like your costume, too.” Beneath his long black cloak, he wore a black jacket, white shirt, dark pants, and the replica of the white mask worn by every Broadway Phantom.

  He turned around so I could fully appreciate his costume.

  “I thought you’d come as a Star Wars character,” I said. “I know how much you like Han, Luke, and Finn.”

  “I almost dressed as Kylo Ren. But I remembered how Andrew called me the Phantom when I first moved here. I thought he’d like it if I dressed as the Phantom for my first Halloween parade.”

  “Wonderful idea. Andrew will be thrilled.” I gave him a hug. Theo didn’t understand that he had been dubbed the Phantom because he kept to himself so much during his first months here. Indeed, we saw him so little, we used to say we might not believe he existed if not for the berry pastries he left every morning in the shop kitchen.

  “Don’t tell anyone that the shirt and jacket are attached to each other,” he said in a whisper. “It looks like they’re two different pieces.”

  “Very nice. They should make all suits like that. Men could get dressed faster.”

  “And I added the cloak, even though it belonged to a vampire costume. It makes me look scarier.”

  “Elegant, too. I love a good cloak.”

  “Well, I have to go now.” Theo slipped on the white mask that covered half of his face. It turned the boyish-looking baker into a sinister character. Amazing what a simple mask can do. “You should leave soon, Marlee. You don’t want to miss the parade.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  I unlocked the door and let him out. But first I gave him another hug. Theo was like the little brother I never had, even if he was older. A most endearing little brother, too.

  After he left, I sat at one of the bistro tables and texted Kit. It would be useless to text or call any of my friends. They were all part of that raucous crowd and would never hear their phones. Someone knocked on the door again.

  I craned my neck from where I sat and peeked out the door. The Phantom was back. Theo had left no more than five minutes ago. I hoped nothing was wrong.

  I got up and let him in again. He walked past me without saying a word.

  After locking up, I went over to him. “You just left, Theo. Why are you back so soon?”

  That half-hidden face stared at me in silence.

  I glimpsed street clothes beneath the long black cloak. “You’re not Theo.”

  “No. I’m not.” He pushed back his mask.

  The bright streetlights spilling into my dark shop revealed exactly who it was.

  The man who killed Ellen, Felix Bonaventure, and the nanny.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Fear swept over me at the sight of Keith Sable. “What did you do to Theo?” I cried.

  Frantic with worry, I made a dash for the door. Before I could unlock it, Keith yanked me into the center of the store. He flung me onto one of the bistro chairs so violently, one of the dragons velcroed to my skirt went flying.

  “Tell me where the laptop is,” he demanded.

  “I swear, if you’ve harmed Theo, I’ll shoot an arrow into you myself!”

  “He’s alive and well. Which is more than will be said for you if you don’t be quiet.”

  “Where is Theo?” I crouched forward, preparing to push past him. “How did you get his cloak and mask?”

  Keith stood in front of me, barring my way. “I took it from him. But I asked nicely. Or rather, my assistant did.”

  “Your assistant? More like a henchman.”

  “Let’s call him an employee. I asked him to stop your friend and pay him for the mask and cloak. He was paid more than he probably makes in a week.” Keith looked down at his cloak. “So now I’m dressed for the occasion. And with a mask to conceal my identity.”

  The store clock hung in the shadows, but it had to be almost ten. Kit swore he would be here before the parade. Any minute, he might turn up. And Keith didn’t appear to have a weapon on him, but that cloak could conceal a knife or a gun. Maybe both.

  “How did you know where I was?”

  “Someone was assigned to watch your house earlier.”

  I tensed up. Had they seen me take a box from beneath the mulberry tree? “Did they enjoy watching me give out candy?” I tried to sound casual.

  “No. Once the children were gone and you went inside, I told them to come to town and watch your store instead.”

  Thank God they left before I went out to the mulberry trees. “Why?”

  “Piper told us that everyone who lives here marches in the parade. I knew you’d show up later on. And your SUV has Berry Basket painted all over it. Hard to miss. One of my men saw you head for the back parking lot.” His voice hardened. “He said you carried a box inside.”

  “Pastries,” I replied.

  “Don’t take me for a fool. You have the laptop. And you brought it into the store. No one but your Phantom of the Opera buddy has been here. I saw you let him in. And when he left, he didn’t carry a box. That means it’s here now. I’ll ask you again. Where is it?”

  My mind raced through everything in the store that resembled a box. Store pastries not sold earlier were wrapped in plastic in the display case. And a pan of mulberry cookie bars were in the kitchen. I didn’t have any boxed desserts in the store at the moment. Except for one.

  “If you look in the kitchen, you’ll see a sheet cake in a white box. It’s a birthday cake for my friend Tess. That’s what your goon saw me bring in.”

  We all planned to meet back here after the parade for cake and champagne. Theo had baked her birthday cake this morning: chocolate with raspberry filling, its frosting decorated with pumpkins, bats, and ghosts. And a single oriole to honor her studio shop, Oriole Glass. Theo had left the cake boxed on the kitchen counter.

  “I can go back there and get it for you.”

  He grabbed my arm again. “We’ll both go.”

  As soon as we reached the kitchen, Keith flipped open the cake box and swore under his breath. Only a birthday cake was inside.

  He turned a furious face in my direction. “Where is the laptop Ellen gave you?”

  “All she gave me were cryptic clues, like the manuscript was safe with my mulberries.”

  “I know that. The night Scarlett and I came to your house, you mentioned the mulberries. As soon as I got in the car, I texted my brother. He sent someone over there to rip open the boxes of mulberries on her porch. The manuscript was there, but not the laptop.”

  “You sent someone that night? Kit and I must have missed him by minutes.”

  “Lucky you did miss him.” The tone in his voice implied that a body or two might have been the result if we had caught the intruder in the act.

  “How did you know there were boxes of mulberries on her porch anyway?” I asked, then stopped. “You’d been there before, hadn’t you?”

  He nodded. “Tuesday morning. Early, so my absence at the conference center wouldn’t be noted. My parents sent me there, hoping I could convince Ellen to hand over the laptop and manuscript. But she was gone and her house locked. I would have broken in, but Bonaventure drove up. We had a long talk out on the front lawn. He was most unreasonable.”

  “In other words, he refused to let you intimidate him.”

  “He was even immune to an exorbitant offer of money. He insisted he would find a publisher for Mischief and Murder, and it didn’t matter how many lawsuits the Sables threatened him with. The book would prove Ellen had been wrongly accused of murder, and he was proud to help her.” Keith’s voice rang with scorn. “There was no point negotiating further with him. I thought fear might be more motivating. So I showed him the gun.”

  “The gun?” If he hadn’t had such a grip on my arm, I would have ta
ken a step back.

  “I’m licensed to carry a handgun, a necessity when one is as wealthy as I am. When I pulled the gun out, he ran off into the field, believing I meant to shoot him then and there. Which would have been stupid with a gun easily traced to me.”

  “You chased after him, didn’t you? That’s when you saw the bow and arrow that Ellen had left out in the field.”

  “It was as if the Universe had smiled down on me. Virtually handing me a weapon. A weapon I knew how to use, given my frequent bow-hunting trips. I called for Mr. Bonaventure to stop, and he made the mistake of turning around rather than keep on running. Otherwise I would have shot him in the back, instead of straight through the heart. Poor fellow looked so surprised.”

  I winced at the image.

  “Dead before he hit the ground,” he continued with an air of pride. “Only my mother could have hit the target more cleanly.”

  “I wouldn’t brag about such a thing,” I muttered.

  “Well, I would,” he shot back. “My only mistake was leaving right afterward. I should have waited for Ellen. But I couldn’t guarantee she’d be alone, and I missed my chance to break into her house. When she returned home and saw the body, Ellen obviously fled. But first she hid her manuscript in one of the boxes on the porch. And took the laptop with her.”

  Dragging me back to the shop, Keith pushed me against the ice-cream counter. “All right. Where did you hide the computer? I know it’s in this shop.”

  “It’s not.” Maybe I could pretend I’d hidden it elsewhere.

  “You are forcing me to hurt you. And for what? Out of some strange loyalty to a crazy woman who wasn’t even your friend? That was the ghostwriter’s mistake. And look what happened to him.” He stepped away from me, as though trying to control his temper. “My family has already destroyed everything Bonaventure possessed regarding the manuscript.”

  Including him, I thought.

  “And the last printed copy of Mischief and Murder was found in that box of mulberries. Now that it’s been shredded, the only thing we need is the laptop containing the file.”

  “You all seem pretty upset over a book written by a so-called crazy woman,” I observed.

  “Oh, my family thinks the entire book is a pack of lies. But those lies could damage us. Therefore it’s imperative we find her laptop. Which I know you have.”

  “You don’t know that at all. You’re guessing.”

  “I’m a good guesser.”

  If Kit was on the way, he was taking his sweet time. Although time stood still when I was confronted with danger. “You’re also a murderer.”

  “Unavoidable. Mr. Bonaventure would be alive today if he had been smart.”

  “And Ellen?”

  He gave a mock sigh. “Ellen’s been a thorn in my family’s side for a long time. That’s why I was the one asked to deal with her that morning. Ellen and I have a history, after all.”

  I pretended to think this over so I could move away from my trapped position by the counter. I slowly walked along the edge of the shop, kicking aside the occasional scarecrow on the floor. Keith followed.

  “Your family sent you there to murder her?” I asked.

  “Don’t be absurd. We’re not the Borgias. None of them has ever killed anything, aside from white-tail deer on our Georgia hunting trips.” His chuckle had a nasty sound. “Except for Laeticia Murier. And that was my doing. Not theirs.”

  “Are you telling me your family had nothing to do with Ellen’s death?”

  “I disposed of Ellen. My family had no idea she was living in a treehouse just a short drive away from the hotel. But I knew. I saw her late one evening on that scooter, disappearing into the woods. After that, I waited for my chance to surprise her. My chance arrived yesterday.”

  Bile rose in my throat. I felt sick at hearing him talk about her murder so casually. “And are the other Sables unaware you killed Bonaventure?”

  “They believe Ellen murdered Bonaventure. And why wouldn’t they? She’s been unstable for years. And she did confess to the murder of the family nanny.”

  “Not at first.” I had now reached the shelves that held my berry wine bottles. A heavy bottle made a good weapon, as long as I chose the right moment to use it.

  “No. I persuaded her to confess. She didn’t have much choice after I convinced the bosun who witnessed the murder to tell a more plausible story. All about a jealous teenager who pushed her rival off the boat. I warned Ellen that she had no chance of being found innocent. But if she agreed to confess, I’d make certain she got a lighter sentence. And I did. My family had no reason to doubt this scenario.” He shrugged. “Perhaps they had a few doubts. But none of them cared for Laeticia or Ellen, therefore it didn’t matter.”

  “How did you persuade the bosun to lie?”

  “I have a certain persuasive charm,” he went on. “Along with a lot of money. I convinced one of the family attorneys to let me tap into my trust fund earlier than planned. As I said, I can be persuasive. And the attorney was female and easily convinced. I have a way with women.”

  “Not all women,” I said with disgust.

  “Well, Ellen was susceptible to my charms. That’s why the family asked me to speak with her.” He took a step closer. “I told them I found Bonaventure dead in the field. That Ellen must have shot him while in a paranoid frame of mind. She was rarely anything but paranoid.”

  “No thanks to you and your family. And they believed that?”

  “Who wouldn’t they? She’d been sent to prison for murder in a shaky mental condition. And she had a long history of emotional problems dating back to her childhood.”

  “How convenient. Gave you an excuse to pin the murder of the nanny on her.”

  “And Mr. Bonaventure.” He smiled. “My parents instructed me to let the police discover the body. We didn’t want to be connected in any way to his death. And I doubt we would have, except for those stunts Ellen pulled. They called attention to us.” His smile vanished. “As you did. Always determined to defend her.”

  “I was right. She was innocent.” Anger warred with caution. Then again, how safe was I, locked in the store with a murderer? “And you finally killed her. Like you almost did the night Laeticia Murier died.”

  He snapped his fingers in my face and I flinched. “I knew you read the manuscript! And you have the laptop. Therefore you already know why I killed Laeticia Murier.”

  No time for games. “Fine. I read the manuscript. Laeticia became pregnant with your child. A child fathered during one of your visits home from college. You wanted her to have an abortion, but she refused.”

  “A cunning, selfish girl determined to trap me.” His voice shook, as if twenty-eight years was still not long enough to quiet his rage. “But I had no intention of supporting a child I didn’t want. I almost killed her when she told me about the pregnancy. Luckily, my family stepped in. Ainsley had miscarried three times. Both she and my brother were desperate to have a child. They offered to adopt Laeticia’s baby as their own. After all, the child was a blood relative.”

  “It was your child, too,” I reminded him.

  “I look on Joshua as my nephew, not my son. And Patrick and Ainsley have been happy with the choice. My parents love their first grandson. In fact, he’s their favorite. It all worked out.”

  “Except for Laeticia.” I inched my hand behind me to where the wine bottles were stacked on the store shelf. “And Ellen.”

  “They did it to themselves. Laeticia claimed to be in love with me. That was why she wanted to keep the baby. To tie us together. That’s why she tricked me into getting her pregnant.”

  My fingers curled around the neck of the closest bottle. “Sure. You had nothing to do with the pregnancy. Just an innocent bystander.”

  “Pretty much. I was a horny teenager seduced by a woman in her twenties.” He laughed. “A Frenchwoman, too. I never stood a chance. But my parents paid her handsomely to pretend it was Ainsley’s baby. Laeticia even got a
nice long vacation in St. Lucia out of it. All she had to do afterward was pack her bags and go back to France. If she had, Laeticia would be living in a fancy apartment in Paris right now, with her second or third husband. Instead, she refused to go. Refused to honor the deal she struck with my family.”

  “The manuscript claims Laeticia didn’t want to leave her baby. And she agreed to stay on as Patrick and Ainsley’s nanny in order to be near her son.”

  “Then threatened to sue for custody. Said she wanted us to raise our child together.” His anger seemed to grow as he talked about it. Without warning, Keith overturned a nearby display table of Berry Basket sweatshirts, making me jump.

  As he kicked at the shirts on the floor, I hid the wine bottle in the folds of my skirt.

  “People magazine had just done a story on the first Sable grandchild,” he continued. “Patrick, Ainsley, and Joshua were on the cover. We’d been pretending for four months that the baby was theirs. Now the nanny wanted to go public and tell the world Patrick Sable’s brother knocked her up! And that the family paid her to be silent and go away. How do you think that would have affected our business?”

  “You killed the mother of your child to protect the family brand?”

  “Damn right I did.” If I could have clearly seen his face, I’m sure it would have been beet red. “Did you think I’d let myself be blackmailed by her? But I gave her a chance. Tried to make Laeticia understand we had no future together. That’s why I started a relationship with Ellen on Mackinac Island. I even proposed to Ellen, hoping it might make Laeticia realize it was over between us.”

  I glanced out the window, praying to see Kit. “According to Mischief and Murder, she became even more distraught when you announced your engagement to Ellen.”

  In fact, Laeticia went to Ellen during that final week and told her everything. How the young man Ellen agreed to marry had gotten another woman pregnant the year before and then discarded her. Even worse, he handed the baby over to his brother like he was a pair of shoes Keith regretted buying. She warned Ellen that Keith would toss her aside, too. All Laeticia wanted now was her baby. And she asked Ellen to help her.