by Beth Byers
“Our rooms were destroyed,” Jack said. “The note with the room. It took me hours to realize that you had left with Jovie.”
Violet started to reply and then handed Jack the puppy. She jerked her head at Jovie, who thrust the second puppy at Hamilton. When they were both bound by wriggling little dogs, Violet said, “We couldn’t have possibly known that our rooms were going to be destroyed.” She felt surprisingly unconcerned about it with puppies to snuggle.
Jack eyed her, his gaze running over her body. “I suppose you’re all right.”
“We got to play with puppies,” Violet said a shrug. She darted in and cupped his cheek. “I’m fine. I’m sorry you were worried.”
Jack shifted the pup to one arm and pulled her by her neck towards him to press his forehead against hers. “I didn’t like that feeling.”
Violet nodded against him and whispered, “We wanted to cause good mischief.”
“You did,” Hamilton said. The puppy was licking his chin frantically.
“That’s Mary. I knew you’d like her best.”
“Is this Watson?” Jack demanded, scratching the ears of the other one.
“You’ll like him best. Don’t think Rouge and I don’t know you prefer Holmes. You’re breaking Rouge’s heart.”
Jack wrapped his arm around Violet’s waist. “We’ve been moved into a suite with multiple rooms. We have you moved with us, Jovie. Along with Lila and Denny, so we can all look after each other.”
A terrible thought occurred to Violet. “What happened to my clothes?”
“Good news, Vi,” Hamilton told her gently. “You get to go shopping.”
Violet gasped, holding her hand to her heart. “This is not fair. I already had to do this once. How did they get into our room?”
“Housekeeping is missing their keys.”
Violet groaned.
“They have been since a few hours after we got here.”
She stopped following Jack as what that might mean occurred to her. “Does that…”
“Maybe?” Jack told her. “We don’t know what it means.”
She turned towards him on the lift. “It could mean that his death was planned.”
“It seemed very spur of the moment,” Jack told her. “Given what we know about how he died.”
Violet stared at him. “What? Did someone hit him with a stick or something?”
Hamilton shook his head as Jack closed his eyes. “Your wife is too smart.”
“She’s right?” Jovie demanded. “Bloody hell.”
Violet groaned. “Life is not fair.”
“So someone got Lyle to join them in the garden and then hit him with a stick? Surely that rules out Fanny and Pamela?”
Jack and Hamilton hesitated long enough for Violet to say, “No. It must not.”
“How do you know?” Jovie asked.
“Look at their faces,” Violet answered. “Do any of them have alibis?”
“Ricky was with a lady friend.”
“He doesn’t have lady friends here,” Jovie said. “It wasn’t me!”
“A paid lady friend?” Violet asked.
“Ew!” Jovie answered.
The lift stopped on a new floor and Jack led the way to a set of rooms that had a double door. There was a police constable outside, and he opened the door as they approached.
“Oh wow,” Jovie breathed.
Violet glanced around and then demanded, “Why didn’t we rent these rooms the first time?”
Chapter 13
Pamela Craft did not answer her bedroom door, but Fanny Browne did. She took a look at Jovie and then demanded, “What is happening? Do they really think that one of us killed Lyle? Surely it was a tramp.”
“I don’t know,” Jovie lied, reaching out and taking Fanny’s hand. “What has been happening?”
Fanny put her hand over her mouth and shook her head. Tears immediately swam in her eyes and Violet resisted an urge to slap the woman silly. Was this the woman that the friends had both adored? That one friend had seemingly betrayed another for? Men who were supposedly as close as brothers?
“Fan.” Jovie took her hand gently. “Fanny, you have to tell us.”
“Why? Why do I have to go over it again and again?”
Jovie squeezed Fanny’s hand, then crossed to the chairs near the small table. “You have to tell us,” Jovie said, “because you and Michael are suspects in Lyle’s murder.”
Fanny gasped and started babbling, but Vi ignored it. The usual reaction and Violet felt certain that she’d seen it too many times to care. To distract herself, Vi glanced around the room. Everything was in place. Fanny had been sitting by the window with a book before they arrived, but Violet saw the bookmark was on the first few pages. How long had Fanny been sitting alone, pretending to read, while her husband was off doing who knew what? Why was she acting like she was the one who had been committing crimes?
“It’s not your fault,” Violet told Fanny, cutting through Fanny’s harsh, self-hating whispering.
“But…”
“It’s not your fault,” Violet said again. “Nothing about this is your fault.”
“I should have told Michael.”
Violet’s gaze narrowed and fury rode her so hard that she wanted to scream. Instead, she said in a low, gritty voice, “He should have been a safe person for you to tell.”
Jovie stared at Violet as Fanny sniffled.
“It’s not his fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Violet repeated. “Did you flirt with Lyle when Michael wasn’t around?”
Fanny shook her head frantically.
“Did you promise Lyle to always love him and never love another?”
Fanny shook her head again. “He said we were moving too fast, and we should reconsider. We were young. Maybe too young to decide who to be with for the rest of our lives. I cried for weeks, and then I went home with Jovie, and Michael was there. He’s so kind.”
Violet’s mouth twisted. She wanted to shake Fanny except Vi had seen the couple together. She’d seen their broken-hearted whispering. Vi was sure, utterly sure, that Michael Browne loved his wife.
“Why are you acting guilty? Did you kill Lyle Craft?”
Fanny paused long enough for Violet to think that maybe Fanny had. Only, no. There was no way that Fanny Browne would leave the side of her then-aware husband to join Lyle on the grounds. “Michael wasn’t with you, was he?”
Fanny’s eyes widened. “Of course he was.”
“Oh my goodness,” Jovie huffed. “She’s lying. Look at her face. She always flushes like that and avoids your gaze when she’s lying. It’s why she rarely tries.”
“Jovie!” Fanny cried.
Jovie was staring at Fanny. “You think Michael killed Lyle.”
Fanny started to answer and then looked away.
“Oh my goodness,” Jovie repeated, sitting down. “I didn’t think it would be them.”
“It isn’t us,” Fanny cried. “Neither of us would kill anyone.”
“Are you afraid?” Vi examined Fanny’s face looking for some sign that she needed help.
“Of Michael? Of course not.”
Violet glanced at Jovie, checking for a lie, but she shook her head.
“But Michael wasn’t with you the night Lyle died?”
Fanny refused to speak. She just shook her head, but the crying started again.
“Oh, for the love of all that is holy!” Violet shouted, standing up. “Lying doesn’t help anyone, Fanny. Either your husband killed Lyle—and if so, Michael will be caught—or he didn’t and your lying is only distracting the detectives from finding the real killer.”
“You aren’t a detective,” Fanny shot back.
Vi laughed. “Too true. I’m sure they’ll be around soon. Again. They’ll be interested in knowing why you were lying about Michael being with you. And, of course, someone probably saw him, so your lie will trap him deeper into the role of killer even if he isn’t.”
Fanny paused then and something that proclaimed her more than a weeping willow flowed over her face. “Michael did not kill Lyle.”
“Why?”
“He loved him,” Fanny snapped.
“Even after Michael found out whatever Lyle was doing to you?”
“He wasn’t hurting me. Michael read more into it than he should have. Lyle was…too attentive. Too touchy. Too likely to follow me and compliment me and touch my hair and get too close, but he didn’t hurt me.”
“So how did Michael find out about what Lyle was doing?”
Fanny bit her lip. “I found out I was expecting. He was so excited. Lyle’s child and our child would be like siblings. And I…I told him everything. I didn’t want our baby anywhere near Lyle. I don’t like Pamela. I haven’t for a long time.”
Violet stared as her mind flipped ahead. “Did Michael say what he was going to do?”
“He said he’d take care of it. That he’d end things and it would all be over.”
“And then?” Jovie stood.
“And then Lyle turned up dead,” Violet answered for Fanny. “Fanny thinks Michael might have killed Lyle. It’s why she’s lying about what happened.”
Jovie closed her eyes. “But…”
“He didn’t.”
“Lyle didn’t rape you.”
Fanny shook her head.
“He scared you. He was aggressive?”
“Michael made me answer the door to our room as if I was alone. It was Lyle. The moment Lyle thought Michael wasn’t there, he changed. Michael saw it all. He was so angry. He shoved Lyle out of our room, and Michael and I talked for hours. I told him everything.”
Violet thought back. She’d seen them whispering in the massage room. Then, she’d gone back to Jack and slept. They’d woken late and went swimming. Somewhere in there, Lyle had been killed. If Michael had discovered the truth, he might have been the one who murdered Lyle.
“Did Michael discover the truth the day he followed you into the massage rooms?”
Fanny stared at Violet. “You knew about that?”
Violet nodded.
“I told him after we arrived here. He promised me he would separate our lives, but he kept bringing it up every moment we were alone. Was I sure? I finally got so angry I told him I’d prove it. It was before I went to the baths that Lyle came to our door. When Michael saw how Lyle was around me, when he got so angry, I ran. I left them together, but I saw Lyle alive after that. We all did at dinner.”
Violet rose and began to pace. “The motives are these: Fanny, she killed Lyle to finally be rid of him.”
Fanny gasped, but Violet ignored it. She hardly cared if Fanny was offended. Violet knew already they’d never be friends. She could hardly stand the woman as it was.
“Any of the men who had invested with Michael and Lyle also have a motive. I assume it was both Ricky and Gervais?”
Fanny nodded, gaze wide.
“Michael told them it was over? That he was done?”
Fanny nodded again. “We needed the money to start a real household, and once Michael promised me to let us live separately from them—he would have told the others. He said we’d take a loss, but it wouldn’t ruin us.”
“It was going to ruin someone,” Violet muttered. “People kill over that all the time. Do you know which one might have done so?”
Fanny shook her head. Vi glanced at Jovie, but she shook her head too.
“Ricky has an alibi, so even if it was Ricky…”
“No,” Jovie told Vi. “He doesn’t have a lot of money right now, but his parents are quite wealthy. Sooner or later, he’ll be fine. He’s an only child.”
Violet paced, fiddling with her wedding ring. “He was always the least likely given the alibi. A paid companion isn’t going to lie to the constables for someone they don’t love.” Violet tilted her head. “Gervais, if he was the one who would be ruined, might have done so. Pamela if Lyle realized he’d been manipulated into marriage. How did she do that?”
Jovie answered. “Appearances matter to him. He wouldn’t have been able to father a baby on one of our friends and abandon it. He believed he had to marry her.”
“Pamela, Gervais, Fanny, and Michael.”
Violet glanced behind her at the longtime friends. “I need to talk to Hamilton and Jack.”
Jovie rose slowly to follow Violet.
“You’re leaving me?” Fanny demanded.
“I promised Jack that Violet wouldn’t be alone.”
“So you’re going to leave me alone?” Fanny demanded. “We’re family.”
“You can come with us,” Violet offered and Fanny stepped back as though she’d said something terribly insulting.
“You should stay here with me,” Fanny told Jovie. “How can you even think of doing anything else?”
Jovie’s wicked expression had faded and all that was left was a wincing apology. “It’s not safe.”
“You mean I’m not safe. You surely don’t think that we’d hurt you.”
Jovie looked at Violet for help. It wasn’t a question that Violet could answer for her.
Carefully, Jovie spoke. “Lyle thought he was safe with whoever killed him, Fanny. I don’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t want to die. I’m not going to risk my life on the hope that you and Michael are who I want you to be.”
Fanny stepped back, her hand to her chest. “Will you throw away everything that we have?”
“You think I don’t know that I’m the unwanted niece that Michael’s parents didn’t want?”
Fanny gaped. “You know I don’t feel that way about you.”
Jovie’s expression didn’t seem to agree fully, but she only said, “If you think it’s possible that Michael might have killed Lyle, then I need to as well.”
Fanny was left speechless and weeping as they left. Violet crossed to Pamela Craft’s door again and knocked. When she didn’t answer, Vi tried the door. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked, and she peeked inside. “Hello?”
Chapter 14
“Pammy left,” Gervais said with a grin.
Jack had just stepped into the hall, so Violet only lifted a brow.
“Pammy?” Jack asked from behind Gervais, making him squeak as he turned. “I’ve had a rather interesting conversation with Michael Browne.”
“The one where he says I killed Lyle instead of him?” Gervais’s laugh was mocking. “Jovie darling, surely you don’t think such things of me?”
“Where were you when Lyle was murdered?”
“I don’t know when that was.” Gervais’s smile was smarmy indeed. Violet stepped back to watch as Jack questioned Gervais, shooting question after question at him. Every time Jack asked a question, Gervais gave a possibly true answer with a mocking grin. He was so mocking that Violet was tempted to box his ears.
“Do you know what happens when you lie during an investigation?”
Gervais laughed. “Who says I’m lying?”
“I do,” Violet finally said. “Bloody hell, Jack, let’s just let Hamilton arrest them all and wait for them to turn on each other.”
Jack glanced at Violet, and she saw a gleam of interest in his gaze.
“Did you beat Lyle Craft to death?” Violet demanded from Gervais.
He stepped into Violet’s space and reached up to tug a hair, but Jack grabbed Gervais’s wrist. “Careful.”
Gervais held up his free hand in surrender. “I just wanted to see what you’d do. That’s the telling part there, my friend. You’d murder me for hurting your wife.”
Jack’s gaze narrowed. “I would.”
“You’re not the only man who feels that way,” Gervais said, twisting his arm from Jack’s grip and stepping back. “Just making a point.”
Violet watched Gervais walk away with a deep scowl. “It’s very likely that Michael Browne did kill Lyle Craft.”
Jack didn’t look convinced, which made Violet reconsider. Only, there was no evidence. There was no evidence for
any of them.
“He got beaten to death?” Violet asked.
Jovie squeaked, but she bit back any further reaction.
“Let’s go back to our rooms, Vi.”
Violet followed Jack with Jovie at her side. He hurried, bypassing the hunting lodge’s manager who tried to get his attention. People looked up as they passed and their eyes trailed after Jack. “You’re famous now.”
“I’ve talked to a lot of people trying to find a witness.”
“Nothing?” she asked as the constable outside of the suite opened the door for them.
“Nothing,” Jack said. “Like you guessed, Lyle was killed with a heavy branch. There are no prints. The ground there was thick grass, and it didn’t show anything. No bloody clothes have been discovered. We’ve searched rooms. No one has an alibi except Ricky. There’s no evidence at all.”
“What about in our rooms?”
Jack shook his head again.
Violet groaned and then looked up as the door to the bedroom that Denny and Lila had taken opened.
“What’s all this? Slumming with us non-detectives?” Denny asked. “Get over it already, Vi. Demand chalkboards. Pull in the suspects with the evidence of their crimes behind them and pick a fight.”
“I don’t want to take notes,” Lila said. “I got chalk all over my black dress the last time I did and I can’t seem to shake the scent.”
“Darling,” Denny declared, “that’s in your imagination.”
“You’ve made an interesting point,” Jack said as Hamilton also entered the suite.
“Did we discover something?”
“Your dogs ate Lila’s shoe,” Denny said. “Violet adopted devil dogs.”
“They’re sweet,” Violet gasped. “Angels.”
“Oh, we like them. Can we have the devil female?”
“Yes,” Hamilton answered as Violet said, “No!”
“Is that the interesting point?” Violet asked Jack, frowning at Ham and Denny.
“It’s hot,” Jack told them. “We’re irritable and we like each other. None of your friends trust each other, Jovie.”
“She’s aware,” Violet said.
Jovie frowned and nodded. “I ruined my relationship with Fanny today. She was one of my two favorite people and when it came right down to it, I realized I didn’t trust her with my life.”
