Will was huddled with Vicki and Mason, and I considered giving up and joining them, but only for a second. I wasn’t one to back away from a challenge, no matter how annoying that challenge had become. I was going to find either Margaret or Quentin, and I wasn’t about to let a few failed attempts stop me.
I headed for one of the hallways just to take a peek to see if maybe one of them was out there. Besides, I needed a little fresh air, and while the rainy outdoors would be better, Igor was letting no one out. At least someone was doing as Paul asked.
The hallway I’d chosen was empty but was cooler than the ballroom. I fanned myself off with my hat a moment and then shoved it back onto my head. Paul told me not to leave the ballroom, and I planned on keeping that promise. For now. If I kept striking out, I might have to do a little exploring, just to make sure one of the other Monroes wasn’t lying dead in a room somewhere.
I turned to head back into the ballroom and found myself near face-to-face with the man in the Scream mask. He was walking straight for me, and by his gait I could tell he was moving with a purpose. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I had a feeling they were zeroed in on me.
Panic flared through me. I was in a lonely hall with a man who was keeping his identity a secret. And what kind of person wouldn’t want someone to recognize them? A killer, that’s who.
I started to turn in order to hurry down the hall and find a bathroom to hide in. The masked man darted forward and grabbed me by the wrist, spinning me back around.
“Hey!” I shouted. “Let go of me!” I jerked my arm out of his grip and backed away.
“Krissy, wait.”
The voice was muffled from the mask, but I’d recognize it anywhere. “Robert?” It came out as a confused question, before anger flooded in. “Robert!”
I could almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. “I can’t believe I found you here.”
“You can’t believe it? What are you doing here, Robert? Shouldn’t you be back home ruining someone else’s life?”
Robert Dunhill was my ex-boyfriend, one I’d thought I’d put behind me when I’d left California. He’d cheated on me with some college girls—the number of which I didn’t want to think about, let alone know. He never expected me to find out, thinking I wasn’t bright enough to see what was right in front of me. When I did call him on it, he had the gall to think I would forgive him and continue on as we always had. When that didn’t happen, he started stalking me, calling me on the phone, using secret accounts to contact me on Facebook.
And now he was here, in Pine Hills, at a party that was supposed to be by invite only.
“We really need to talk, Krissy,” he said.
“No, we really don’t.” I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my arm again.
“Don’t walk away from me.”
I fought down the urge to kick him right between the legs. The man deserved it in more ways than one, but I managed to restrain myself. No sense making too big of a scene, at least not yet. If he put his hands on me again, then he’d be picking my shoelaces out of his teeth.
“What do you want, Robert?” I asked, putting as much venom in my voice as I could. “You shouldn’t be here. How did you get here?”
He chuckled and let me go, allowing me to step back away from him. “I was invited.”
I snorted. “Sure you were.”
“Seriously! I was.” I could hear the pride in his voice. If there was one thing Robert was full of, other than you-know-what, it was pride.
“Who would invite you here?” I asked. It was more likely he snuck his way in.
“Some girl I met at a bar in town.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“When you blocked me on Facebook a few months back, I decided to see if I could figure out where you were hiding.”
“I wasn’t hiding, Robert. I moved on.”
“Whatever.” He adjusted his mask. “When I figured it out, I made plans to pay you a visit. It took me some time, but I managed.” I figure it was money he needed. He’d never been one to save. “When I got here, I realized I still wasn’t sure where to find you, so I went to a bar to think about it.”
I rolled my eyes. The only thinking he ever did at a bar was whether or not he thought he could pick up any of the girls, and what it might cost him. It was more likely he’d seen it on the way in and stopped by for a little pick-me-up before heading in to make my life miserable.
“I met her there.”
“Really?” I said, still not buying it. “If you met someone who invited you here, why aren’t you with her?”
He shrugged. “She’s busy. The chick is loaded. When she invited me to the party, I thought we’d go to some lame frat party and have a few drinks before heading back to her place, but instead . . .” He shook his head. “Wow. I never expected this.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, unimpressed. It was likely the girl he’d met had just been dumped or was out to annoy Mom and Dad by bringing a loser to the biggest party of the year. I seriously doubted Robert of all people would be able to hook a girl with enough money to be invited to a place like this.
“You really should go hang out with your new girlfriend,” I said. “I’m busy. Besides, she might get jealous if she sees you with me.”
He laughed. “I doubt that. She’s too hot to be jealous of you.”
It says a lot about our relationship that I wasn’t offended by the comment. It was the sort of thing that came out of Robert’s mouth all of the time.
“Robert,” I said calmly. “Would you please just leave me alone?”
“Not until we talk.”
“There is nothing to talk about!” Some of my calm broke. How many times did I have to tell him I wanted nothing to do with him before he got the point? “You screwed up. I left. It’s the end of the story.”
“Nah,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I know you. You still need me.”
I sighed. “If you believe that, Robert, you are more delusional than I thought.”
“Come on, Krissy. You’re the one who needs me. Look at you. It’s obvious.”
My left eye twitched. He was about three seconds from me shoving his stupid mask somewhere where he wouldn’t be able to reach it again.
“Robert. You need to leave me alone. I have no intention of ever seeing your lying face again. You make me sick!”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” he said. I heard anger in his voice. Maybe he was finally getting it.
“I can,” I said. “And I will.” This time, when I pushed past him, he let me go.
Of all the nerve. I almost wished Will would have been there to see that. I was pretty sure Robert would have received more than a bruised ego if he had been. Heck, even Paul would have put him in his place for talking to me like that. And if Vicki had been there . . . We might have had to deal with two bodies instead of one!
I returned to the ballroom with the intent of going over to my friends to dump on Robert a bit, when I saw an older, frantic-looking Breakfast at Tiffany’s Audrey Hepburn enter from across the room. It took me a moment to realize who it was—her hair was a different color and she was wearing a new costume—but after a few seconds, I realized I was looking at Margaret Yarborough. She was looking wildly around the room for someone.
I hurried over before she could get lost in the crowd.
“Margaret?” I said. “I’m Kristina Hancock. Officer Paul Dalton sent me to find you.”
She latched on to me like I was her saving grace. Perfectly manicured hands circled my wrists hard enough to hurt. “Where is he?” she asked. “I have a crime to report.”
I thought she was a little late to the party but didn’t call her on it. “We know about the body already.”
A flash of annoyance passed over her face. “Not that.” She waved a hand in front of her face as if brushing away a fly. “Someone has stolen my jewelry!” She started scanning the crowd again, presumably for Paul.
“He’ll
be back shortly.” I hope. I didn’t like the fact Margaret was so dismissive over Jessica’s murder. I mean, a life is far more valuable than jewelry, no matter the price. “What makes you think it has been stolen?”
She gave me a flat look. “Really, dear? How else? I went in to change my costume and when I went to put on the jewelry I’d purchased to go with it, it was gone.”
“I see.” That still didn’t quite tell me everything, though. “Why did you get changed?”
She huffed, letting her annoyance show. “Because there was a murder, dear, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I haven’t.” My own annoyance was starting to rear its ugly head.
Margaret sighed and rolled her eyes as if tired of explaining things to me. “I couldn’t be caught dead wearing the same thing as someone who was murdered! It would be unseemly, and in dreadfully bad taste.”
Or was it something more? Did you get pumpkin guts on your once-white dress and couldn’t wear it any longer? I found it hard to believe that Margaret Yarborough would kill Jessica Fairweather, but then again, I didn’t know either woman. As far as I knew, they had a deep, resentful relationship that stretched back for years.
“Do you know anyone who would have a reason to kill Ms. Fairweather?” I asked, figuring I’d go for broke while I had Margaret there. Paul would want to ask the same questions of her, but I thought I could save him some time.
“Maybe she saw the thief who stole my jewelry,” she said. “He could have killed her so she wouldn’t turn him in.”
I supposed it was plausible, but it didn’t quite fit. If Jessica caught the killer stealing jewelry out of what I presumed was Margaret’s bedroom, wouldn’t her body have been found there instead? I doubted she kept her expensive jewelry in the scarecrow and pumpkin room, not unless she thought no one would think to look there.
I didn’t know the layout of the house, but based on general knowledge of most houses, the bedrooms were probably upstairs. If that was the case, the killer would have had to drag Jessica’s body down the stairs, smash her head through a pumpkin, and then leave her there, all without being seen. Why not just shove her in a closet? It would have been easier, and far safer.
No, I didn’t buy it. She could have tried to escape the killer and he chased her down, catching up with her outside the pumpkin room. That made more sense, but somehow, it still didn’t quite fit. Someone would have heard or seen something if she’d run. She would have called for help at the bare minimum.
“Excuse me, dear,” Margaret said, perking up. She pushed past me and sashayed across the room to where Paul had just entered.
I scurried after her, not wanting to miss anything. Besides, I had found Mrs. Yarborough and wanted credit for it. No matter what the status of our relationship was, I did want his approval.
Petty? Sure. But hey, we all have our needs.
“All of it!” Margaret was saying as I approached. “Taken straight out of its box.”
“Where did this happen?”
“My bedroom, of course,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Where else?”
“And are you sure you didn’t misplace it?” Paul sounded as if he wanted to talk about anything other than her missing jewelry, which wasn’t a surprise. He had a lot on his plate with the murder and all. He was just too nice to tell her she was wasting his time.
“I’m positive. I set it out earlier, just in case I needed a costume change. The door was closed, but wasn’t locked, so anyone could have slipped in. I’m certain it was that poor girl’s murderer who did it.”
Like me, Paul didn’t seem convinced. “I’ll look into it,” he said. “But first, I need to talk to you a few minutes about the victim.”
“Me?” Margaret sounded aghast. She glanced behind her as if making sure no one was listening in before turning back to him. “I had nothing to do with this and have no idea who might have.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Paul said. He glanced at me, and I smiled innocently at him, before he turned back to Mrs. Yarborough. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately? It will only take a few minutes.”
Margaret huffed. “You should be worrying more about catching the maniac running around stealing and killing. You are wasting your time with me. Someone else might have seen something, though.”
A little ping teased at the back of my mind. Someone had seen something; I had!
“The nervous man,” I said. Why hadn’t I thought of him before?
“Excuse me?” Paul asked, turning to me.
“When Jessica rushed out of the room after the failed proposal, she bumped into a man who looked nervous. I think he was wearing a black suit and hat. He was alone, and had just entered the room. He might have come from Margaret’s bedroom.”
It was pure speculation, but at least it was something.
“Can you describe him?” Paul asked, sounding excited.
I thought back. I hadn’t really been looking hard, especially since my focus was on Jessica at the time. And then Paul had come up to talk to me, which made me forget about the whole thing until that very moment. I thought he might have had a mustache, but whether it was fake or real, I had no idea.
“Not really,” I said. “He was wearing a costume like everyone else and I didn’t get a really good look at him. All I know for sure was that he was wearing that black suit and hat, and looked guilty of something.”
“He might have changed by now,” Paul said with a frown. He peered past me, at the other guests milling around. “And he might not be guilty of anything more than sneaking off on his own.”
“But we can’t know that until we talk to him.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed at the “we” part, but nodded. “I’ll talk to him.” His frown deepened. “Are people leaving?”
I glanced back. There were definitely fewer people in the ballroom than there had been a few minutes ago. “They’re wandering around,” I told him. “Igor won’t let anyone leave.”
Margaret sniffed. “His name is Vince.”
I shrugged. Vince? Igor? His name didn’t matter just as long as he was keeping our killer from sneaking away.
Paul sighed and ran a hand over his face. He looked weary. “Okay.” He turned to Margaret. “We’ll need to talk at some point, but I’m going to put it off for now. Can you try to wrangle everyone back into the ballroom? We need to find the man in the black suit and hat.”
She nodded. “I can.”
“Good.” He turned to me. “You’ll have to come with me.”
“Me? Why?” Instant worry shot through me. He couldn’t possibly think I knew more than I was letting on.
“I need you to identify this guy when we find him,” he said. “There are quite a lot of black hats and suits here tonight. I can’t question them all.” He paused. “Do you think you’ll recognize him if you saw him again?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. “Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I’ll go see if I can find everyone,” Margaret said before heading down the hall.
Paul watched her go and then motioned for me to go ahead of him. “After you.”
“Gee thanks.” Just what I was looking forward to: hunting down a man who could very well be a murderer.
What could possibly go wrong with that?
7
“What about one of those men?” Paul sounded tired as we strode around the crowded room. No matter how many times he asked the guests to stay in one spot, they continued to mill about, making it hard to keep track of whom we had and hadn’t already seen.
I followed his eyes and then shook my head. “I think we checked them already.”
He heaved a sigh and we moved on.
I’d fully expected our search to be difficult, but it was starting to get a little silly. Both Paul and I were frustrated, and the longer we continued our search, the more convinced I became that the man was long
gone. He could easily have slipped out before the body was discovered. Igor, as I continued to think of him, claims no one had left through the front door, but there were back exits as well. He might even have escaped through a window for all we knew.
“Maybe we should lock everyone up,” I said. “If we section them off in groups of ten or so, we could check them over, and once we make sure our man isn’t one of them, lock them in one of the rooms before moving on to the next group. It would keep us from checking the same people twice.” Or three or four times as we’d already done in some cases.
“Tempting,” Paul said. “But I don’t want to start a riot. These people will rebel the moment we start locking people up. It would cause more problems than I’m prepared to deal with.”
He was probably right, but I liked the idea, anyway. Once we locked everyone up, our murderer would be safely tucked away until Buchannan got here, and I could spend some quality time with Will. I’d already left him alone long enough.
We were moving along the wall near the drinks when I caught a glimpse of a black top hat just peeking over the edge of the table. I nudged Paul and pointed. The man was mostly hidden from view, which was why we’d overlooked him for so long.
Paul nodded and held up a finger to me to wait. As much as it pained me, I listened.
“Sir?” he said, approaching the slumped form. When the man didn’t move, I became instantly worried we had another victim on our hands. “Sir, I need to talk to you.”
Thankfully, the top hat moved as the man turned to face Paul. He didn’t say anything, just sat there.
“Sir?” Paul said, wariness in his voice. “Could you please stand up?”
The man did as he was told. As he reached his feet, he paused to look around at those nearby, who were now watching with interest. As soon as I saw his face, I knew it was our guy. He did have a thin, dark mustache speckled with gray. Heavy bags rested under his eyes, making him look tired, though I had a feeling that was just how he naturally looked.
Top Hat’s gaze moved from the onlookers to me. He stared at me for a long moment, ignoring Paul’s “Sir, please step away from the table.” His brow furrowed and his entire body tensed.
Death by Pumpkin Spice Page 6
