I shook off my confusion and jogged into my house. Time was ticking, and I needed to make an effort to fit into Ava and Adam Fenton’s world tonight. Though if my strained conversations with Melly and Stone the fourth offered any indication, I doubted I could even pretend to fit in with the upper crust.
Rasputin slithered around a bit hectically. I wondered if he had some sixth sense that he was going to see Reginald tomorrow.
I was anthropomorphizing a reptile. Just like I anthropomorphized my car. Katrina would probably tell me I had issues, befriending inanimate objects and critters more easily than I befriended human beings.
But I felt no shame about it. Unreliable as cars were and unresponsive as Rasputin was, at least they didn’t lie to me.
Unlike almost all the Greenwich crowd I’d talked to thus far.
Chapter 29
Finally settling on a gold sweater that seemed glam in an understated kind of way, I dressed quickly. I took a little more time with my makeup and hair, then added a pair of knee high boots and my wool coat to stave off the cold outside.
Glancing at the humidity level in Rasputin’s cage, I stopped to give it one last spritz of water. I grabbed my keys from the side table and locked the door, leaving my porch light blazing. Maybe it would offer a slight deterrent to anyone lurking around with evil intent. As an added precaution, I pulled my rubber doormat up just a little, propping it against the bottom of the door. If someone wanted to sneak in that way, they’d have to move the mat.
But it didn’t really matter, because if the police were right, the murderer was already behind bars. Stone the fifth would be out of commission for a good long while.
Yet I wasn’t comforted by that thought.
* * * *
Ava Fenton herself let me in, looking dazzling in a rose silk blouse and gold link necklace. Her cheeks had a slight flush and she seemed a bit nervous.
“Adam will be down soon. I know he’ll be glad to meet you,” she said. “I told him about...well, about what you found in Margo’s room. He won’t come out and say it, but he is very thankful you told us about it.” She gave a hesitant smile. “Now in the meantime, would you like to try some crudités?”
Ava led me into a cozy sitting area where a real-log fireplace crackled. I settled into a wide plush chair and helped myself to roasted cauliflower and dip.
Ava layered some kind of leafy things on her plate. Noticing my bewildered look, she explained, “This fennel is really delicious with the blue cheese dip, I’ve found.”
Ava Fenton had a natural way of putting me at ease that I truly appreciated.
We munched our crudités in pleasant silence. I imagined Margo sitting in this very room, unwinding with her parents, and I felt a pang of guilt. I wished I could give my parents a hug, right then and there.
Distracting me from my morbid thoughts, Adam Fenton strolled in. The weather-worn crinkles at his eyes gave the impression he liked to sail—likely a yacht club type. Radiating confidence, he extended a hand and walked straight over to me. I placed my hand in his and he squeezed it heartily.
“Belinda Blake. Ava has told me so much about you. Welcome to our home.”
As Adam settled into a chair next to me, Ava busied herself preparing a plate for him. It was sweet how she knew exactly what he’d want to eat, once again reminding me of my own parents.
Adam grew serious. “How are they treating you over there, Belinda? I hear you’re tucked into the Carringtons’ carriage house?”
I nodded. “I do love it. Very snug. The back yard seems like a fairy wonderland or something.”
Ava blanched at the same time Adam turned to look at her. Realizing what I’d said, I stumbled to retract it. “Not to make light of what’s happened there. Oh, my, I don’t—”
Adam’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to apologize, Belinda. Besides, you’re the one who has to live right next to such a cursed spot. Are you doing okay with that?”
Ava’s voice caught as she spoke up. “Be honest with us.”
I hesitated. “I can’t really say. You know they arrested Stone the fifth yesterday, so I guess I should assume he’s the killer.”
Ava’s eyes rounded. “You don’t think he is?”
I positioned my plate on the coffee table. “I’d love to know your thoughts on it. Did Stone hang out with Margo often? Did you get the feeling he was capable of violence, especially something...so terrible?”
I couldn’t bring myself to say the word strangulation to Margo’s parents.
Adam tipped his head up, as if working through memories. Finally, he answered. “I wouldn’t have thought it.”
Ava’s light brown eyebrows furrowed. “Nor would I.”
I shivered. “Then that can only mean one thing.” I didn’t want to elaborate.
Adam filled in the blanks for me. “They haven’t found the killer yet,” he said.
* * * *
Ready for a break from such heavy thoughts, I joined Ava as she went to the kitchen to dish up food. She had a lovely food-warming setup, complete with gas-heated metal platters. Chatting as we worked, we transferred the food to dishes, then arranged it in the center of the dining room table.
Going about the rote food service tasks that had brought families joy for centuries, I suddenly realized I wasn’t feeling anxious or fearful. I just felt like me.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality,” I said. “I needed this break so much.”
Ava smiled. “And we needed to have a young woman in this house for a while. It’s like being in a severe withdrawal, one you know you’ll never recover from.”
Adam swooped into the kitchen, planting a kiss on Ava’s head as he caught the tail end of our conversation. His voice cracked. “We will learn to live again, somehow.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I filled the glasses with bottled water. It was obvious these two really supported each other. “It’s good you have each other,” I said.
Ava motioned us to sit at the table. As we arranged napkins on our laps, she said, “Adam grew up right down the road from my family. We know each other so well, we can—”
“Finish each other’s sentences,” he said, winking.
Ava’s smile fell. “That’s what made it difficult to watch Margo’s dating relationships. She seemed to seek the exact opposite of the stability we’d given her.”
I took a bite of my prosciutto-stuffed chicken, pausing a moment to savor it. “Sometimes people rebel and they don’t know why,” I offered. “Maybe Margo just wanted to know what she’d be missing if she settled into the same life her parents had.”
Ava looked thoughtful. “You’re probably right.”
Adam stabbed up a forkful of green beans. “I only wish I knew the identity of the blaggard Margo had entangled herself with at the end. Do you know that Frannie called us the day before Thanksgiving, saying she might have figured it out? And then someone took her life, as well.”
I straightened in my chair. “Did Frannie say who she suspected?”
Adam shook his head. “No. She only hinted that he wasn’t Margo’s usual type.”
“Men like Dietrich Myers were her usual type,” Ava said. “Affluent boys who never grew up. They might have houses and cars and everything they could possibly want, but they have no clue how to work for a living.”
That brought me back to my theory that Margo wasn’t dating a boy, but an older man. And Red had clued me in that Stone the fourth was seeing Margo before her death. Had they been romantically involved? Or had he been meeting her for some other reason?
“Tell me more about the Carringtons’ relationship,” I said. “Unlike you two, it sounds like they were from entirely different worlds?”
Adam nodded. “Stone grew up in this area and his parents were cornerstones of this community. Stone’s parents were huge
philanthropists—they made so much money, they could throw plenty away.”
Ava took up the tale. “But Melly came from a whole different playing field. Her family’s income fluctuated wildly, depending on how much plumbing work their father had. They lived in a really rural part of Connecticut, until her mother pushed her dad to move to Greenwich, in hopes he could make more money.”
“And he did,” Adam continued. “That’s how Stone and Melly met, but I’m sure Ava’s already told you that.”
“She did,” I said, turning back to Ava. “So it must’ve been a huge adjustment for Melly to take over at that huge house and fit into socialite circles?”
Ava mused on that for a moment. “You know, I don’t think it was. Melly once told me she’d determined to have a posh lifestyle when she was small.” She chuckled. “She said she’d never let herself date until Stone the fourth asked her out.”
“Knew what she wanted,” Adam affirmed.
And yet, if my suspicions were correct, Melly had sacrificed love on the altar of wealth. She had married an alcoholic who was possibly also a philanderer.
I wondered if the tradeoff had been worth it.
Chapter 30
I hated to take my leave of Ava and Adam Fenton, but the hours had slipped past and it was already nine at night. Adam offered to follow me home and see me into my carriage house, which I thought was a very thoughtful thing to offer, but I refused. I needed to take care of myself and maintain my independence, otherwise, I might as well pack up shop and move back with my parents.
I figured Margo had been fighting for her own independence, too, no matter how ill-advised her choices were. If only she’d opened up to someone, shared her struggles, she might have received some valuable counsel and gotten out of her dangerous relationship before it destroyed her.
Val was still in the Security booth as I drove in, and he waved me through. Pulling into my well-lit drive, I scanned my front porch. The doormat remained in place, blocking the very bottom of my door.
I patted the Volvo’s cold dashboard. “Bluebell, you stay close, in case I have to make a fast getaway.” I gave a little chuckle, but I left the car doors unlocked, on the off-chance I had to do that very thing.
The first of my front door locks opened easily, but the second seemed stiff with the cold. I wished I’d worn gloves, as the temperature had really dropped. I repeated the unlocking process and the door finally opened.
I’d left the kitchen light on, so I walked straight in and locked the door behind me. After making a quick check of the rooms, I finally let out a breath. Time for a bath and a good book.
As I poured the water, my phone rang. It was Dietrich.
I remembered how Sophie and Jet said Dietrich had lingered after the billiards party the night of Margo’s death. How easy would it have been for Dietrich to meet Margo, strangle her, then take off? But then again, wouldn’t Val have seen him pulling out, if he was still in the Security booth, hoping Margo was coming to accept his offer of a date?
Or had Val left soon after Margo didn’t show? I needed to ask him that.
The ringing stopped abruptly, and I realized I’d missed my chance to pick up. When I saw Dietrich had left a voicemail, I played it.
“Hi Belinda, it’s me, Dietrich.” He gave a nervous laugh. “I found the sketch I was looking for. Turns out Margo must’ve forgotten to take it home.”
Maybe she hadn’t wanted it around, and had only pretended to leave it behind at Dietrich’s loft. Especially if it was one of his nudes that looked nothing like a nude.
Dietrich continued. “I still can’t figure out why she was so secretive about letting anyone see the sketch. She was fully clothed in it, after all.” He gave a braying laugh. “Sure, I think I caught a certain vulnerability in her eyes, but there was strength there, too. Resolve, maybe? I’d sketched that the week before her death, so maybe she worried it would show her pregnancy? But her stomach is totally flat in this sketch. And she wore this elegant little ruby necklace that nestled right into her clavicle, like a kiss from the—”
His voice cut off as the message ended.
I poured in more of my coconut-scented bubbles, then sank into the tub. Dietrich was obsessed, for sure—it seemed he would never stop rehashing his time with Margo—but he didn’t seem the killer type. More like the “please take care of me and be nice to me” type. And I suspected Margo didn’t have time for that kind of neediness.
The phone rang from where I’d left it in the kitchen, but I didn’t bother jumping out to get it. The bath felt so warm, I wanted to let my troubled thoughts float away. What a gourmet-level meal Ava had cooked. It was interesting that I felt so comfortable with the Fentons. Despite the unthinkable circumstances that forced our paths to cross, it was like I’d finally found real friends in this town.
I reluctantly toweled off and pulled on my warmest black pajamas, which were patterned with frolicking red reindeer. When I stepped into my jingle bell slippers, I felt a surge of Christmas spirit. I would enjoy returning to my parents’ house for the holiday season. I wondered if Katrina would be showing any by then.
I padded out to the kitchen, poured water in my teapot, and dumped an envelope of instant chai latte in a mug. Noting another voicemail on my phone, I hit play.
“Belinda.” It was Stone the fifth.
I hit pause. Was he out of jail already? I was sure his parents could post a high bond, but seriously, was it that easy for the wealthy to get out, even if they were murderers?
I turned the volume up and hit play again.
“I’m still in jail—a friend of mine works here, so he let me give you a call. The police have a warrant, and they’re planning to search the house tomorrow. They’ve found some evidence—I don’t know how, but for some reason, my hair was in Frannie’s hand. I...I can’t bring myself to tell Dad and Mom. Mom’s a wreck—I guess you’ve probably seen her?”
He lowered his voice. “Listen, I’m not worried, because I have a great lawyer, but also because I know I didn’t kill anyone. I am worried about you, though. Two murders right outside your carriage house can’t be a coincidence, and I know the killer’s still on the loose. You shouldn’t be alone so much. Maybe you could stop in at Mom’s tomorrow morning, make up some excuse about going Christmas shopping? Red will take you anywhere, and that would get you both out of the house when the cops come. Is there anywhere else you can stay for a while?” He turned away from the phone and spoke to someone in the background. “I have to go, but I’ll call when I can.”
The fact that Stone wasn’t even worried about the hair in Frannie’s hand screamed innocence.
Had Stone somehow been framed? But who would ever want to frame Stone Carrington the fifth, and why?
It seemed so many questions could be answered if the police would just exhume Margo’s body and test the baby’s DNA. I didn’t want to bother Detective Watson at this time of night, but I wasn’t above texting him. I typed out my message.
“Hi, Detective Watson. I wondered if you were still planning to exhume Margo’s body to find the father’s DNA? I am worried that Stone isn’t guilty and I hope you are planning to follow up on that angle?”
I was hoping that wasn’t too pushy, but at the same time, it bugged me they hadn’t done that yet.
I swirled the hot water into my chai, then took a sip. A text binged on my phone and I checked it.
Detective Watson replied that they were exhuming the body tomorrow. I could almost hear his West Virginia accent through his text:
“I told you you’ll be safe if you stay put. I’m for dang sure we got the right man. It’s those slick ones who do it every time. Born with a silver spoon. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”
Despite the detective’s certainty Stone the fifth was guilty, I remained unconvinced. But he was right on one count—I should be safe enough if I stayed home
. And tomorrow I had to return to Manhattan to take Rasputin back, anyway. Maybe I could honor Stone’s request and ask Melly if she’d like to come with me and do some shopping.
Right. With a ball python in the car.
Pretty dubious, but for Stone’s sake, I’d try.
Chapter 31
I woke in the night, chilled. The wind seemed to whistle through the cracks and crevices in the old carriage house. I walked into the dark hallway, using my phone light to locate the thermostat. After I bumped the heat up, a light movement sounded from Rasputin’s cage. He would be feeling this chill even more than I did. I stumbled into the living room and cranked up the temperature on the snake’s heat pad.
I headed back down to my room, jumping into bed and yanking the covers up. I hated waking up in the middle of the night. It nearly always resulted in nightmares, for some reason.
Sure enough, I startled awake again and grabbed my phone. 3:22 and a nightmare had jolted me up. What was it again? Someone...yes, it was Margo. She was at Dietrich’s, posing nude with a red necklace tight against her throat.
A dainty red necklace...
A ruby necklace...
Just like the one Melly was wearing when she left yesterday.
A crash sounded in the living room and I shot to my feet. But as I cleared the end of my bed, I stopped short.
There was a shadow blocking my doorway.
I dropped to the floor, trying to think. I reached for my phone and the screen lit up.
“You do not want to touch that, Miss Blake.”
I knew that voice, but it was so out of place in my tiny house, I refused to believe who it was.
Besides, it was dark. Maybe I was wrong.
The shadow moved and I hesitated. Should I reach for the phone and risk getting shot if the intruder had a gun? Or should I focus on beating him out of my room? I couldn’t get to the door, but maybe if I could open a window...
I inched back, toward the windowsill. I mentally rehearsed the steps it would take to escape. I’d have to unlock it, open the glass, open the screen or push it out, then climb out onto the back patio.
Belinda Blake and the Snake in the Grass Page 17
