by Beth Byers
Gervais grinned. “Even this idiot saw that your husband didn’t want you,” he told Pamela.
“You know what’s interesting,” Violet said as she glanced around the room. “You all have such good reasons to kill Lyle.”
Chapter 16
Pamela was flushed. Sweat beaded on her brow and her upper lip. She wasn’t unattractive on a normal day, but in these circumstances with the friends turning on each other, they were all pretty unattractive.
Michael had a dark look on his face, and he was holding Fanny’s hand too hard. Vi winced at the expression on Fanny’s face.
Ricky seemed to be dozing.
She looked pointedly at him until he opened his eyes. “Is the arguing so familiar that you can sleep through it?”
He snuffled and shrugged. “It wasn’t me. You already know that. The rest of this is just window dressing.”
Her gaze switched to Gervais, who made a kissing look at her. Jack placed his hand on Gervais’s shoulder and squeezed. Vi was sure Jack didn’t hurt Gervais, but the threat was implicit. She decided Gervais wasn’t worth the effort of trying to anger.
“You would have lost money,” Vi said instead to Ricky. “People kill for that all time.” She turned to Fanny. “I am guessing it wasn’t you.”
Fanny’s gaze darted to Michael and then she pressed her lips together.
“Michael is, of course,” Vi continued, “a favorite suspect. He has so much motive.”
Michael jerked, but he seemed unsurprised by the claim.
“It must be hard for him to know even his wife suspects him,” Violet said, watching.
“So why are we all here? Find your evidence and arrest Michael,” Pamela snapped. “Of course it was Michael. He realized that his best friend was hurting his wife. He snapped and he killed Lyle.”
Violet stared at Pamela.
The woman met Violet’s gaze in sheer fury. “It’s unkind to play this out in front of me. Fanny even. Why are you torturing us? Just arrest Michael and be done with it.”
Violet replied quietly. “Michael seems a little too dim to me.”
Michael grunted and Gervais laughed at the comment. “He is a bit of a plodding old duck. Unlike Pamela. I see where you’re going with this, and I like it. She’s a much better villain.”
“Don’t talk about Michael like that,” Fanny said. “This is bad enough. Michael and Lyle were like brothers, and now he’s gone, and we’re mourning.”
“That’s our point, pet,” Gervais told Fanny with too much glee.
Violet held up her hand. “When exactly did you tell Michael about what was happening with Lyle?”
Fanny stumbled for a moment. “I asked him to break things off between Lyle and our family just after dinner that first day.”
Violet glanced at Jack. “But you didn’t tell him about all the details until just before you were in the bathing rooms?”
“I told him then, yes,” Fanny admitted. She wasn’t as stupid as Violet had initially thought. Quiet, yes. Pretty enough, certainly. Fanny had garnered Lyle’s attention simply because she became Michael’s wife. There was a hopeful look in Fanny’s gaze because she’d realized Violet wasn’t convinced of Michael’s guilt.
“So what happened?” Violet asked.
“I couldn’t explain exactly why I was bothered by Lyle at first because Michael was so angry by what he saw when Lyle came to our door. I went to the baths. He eventually followed me. We talked after that. He was still so angry.”
“Where did you go?” Violet asked Michael. “That night? When you left Fanny?”
“It was late. Most of the staff weren’t working. It was deserted here.”
That wasn’t an answer. “But you knew it would be. You all did. You’ve been here so many times.”
Michael nodded. “I knew I could have privacy in the gymnasium. It’s on the main floor near the kitchens and looks out at the back garden. I used the punching bag until very late. I heard the ruckus and the autos arriving. I saw the lanterns in the garden, so I went back to my room. Fanny was there.”
Vi felt Hamilton and Jack’s gaze on her. She glanced at them and smiled, but none of them were amused.
“So when was the housekeeping key stolen?”
“I say, what?” Gervais asked. Even Ricky sat up, no longer looking bored by the drama between the friends.
“Within hours of our arrival,” Hamilton said. “Mr. Halliburton believes it was taken from a housekeeping closet the staff was working out of just near their rooms.”
“I suppose I have a bit of prejudice against men, but I can’t see a man stealing a housekeeping key and then searching the rooms of the detectives.”
“I say,” Gervais said. “My rooms were rifled after that first day. I thought the maid had taken my cufflinks. The ruby ones I got from my Uncle Gervais.”
“Did you make a complaint?” Ham demanded.
“How could I? When Michael was dead? I was angry with him, but I wasn’t going to distract from finding his killer.”
“You fool,” Violet told Gervais. “What were you thinking? That was important information.”
“What does the housekeeping key have to do with the rest of this?” Gervais asked. “So someone used a key to get into our rooms. So what? A thief isn’t the same as a killer.”
“True,” Violet said, glancing at Hamilton. “Until you add in that the killer used a key to rifle through what the detectives had found so far. Someone lost their nerve and wanted to see if we had any traction at all of learning who the killer was.”
“Why do you think that?” Jovie demanded.
“No other room that was searched had their things destroyed. Ham writes notes overtly in a black notebook.” Truthfulness, Violet thought. Now time for a lie. She faced Pamela. “One of the maids saw you leave our rooms.”
Pamela paled.
“She noted the pregnant belly. The dark circles. The maid thought you were looking for Jovie and didn’t think anything of it until this morning.”
“I—” Pamela stumbled.
Violet closed her eyes. She was sure the moment Pamela stumbled. “How did you get him to the garden?”
“Did you tell him you saw Fanny go out there?” Gervais demanded.
He sounded nearly gleeful. He was a mean version of Denny, Violet thought.
Gervais leaned in aggressively. “That would have been easy enough. He was so angry about Fanny. Making something out of nothing is how Lyle described it when he told me about Michael wanting to leave the investments.”
Pamela looked among her friends. She was searching for an ally because she believed Violet’s lie. It was so easy to weave a plausible lie into a string of truths.
Violet guessed. “You could have simply followed him, but you didn’t. Why would you? With the housekeeping key, you could get out of the lodge without going through the front doors. That would be an easy way to murder him and get back in.”
Violet looked at Jack. He couldn’t lay down the same lies Violet was about to without risking the investigation, so she carried on. “When the constables are finished searching your rooms, will they find the key, along with the things from our rooms, and of course Gervais’s cuff links?”
Pamela gasped then, and any chance of keeping her lie faded when Fanny lunged for Pamela, but Michael caught her hand to stop her from reaching the pregnant woman. Fanny turned to words instead. “This is your fault! Michael thinks I…I…Michael…”
Michael rose slowly, gently pulling Fanny to him. “You framed me,” he said to Pamela.
“I didn’t,” Pamela cried.
“You told me that you knew Lyle loved me,” Fanny accused. “You told me to separate our families. To give us both peace. You said that only I could make things right.” Fanny was crying, tears mingling with the beads of sweat. “I would have been too afraid, but you told me it would be all right. You told me that things would be better.”
“I didn’t,” Pamela said, shaking her head over a
nd over again. “I didn’t.”
“Of course you did,” Jovie said flatly.
“You don’t understand,” Pamela moaned. “None of you understand what it’s like except Jovie. No one wants you either, Jovie. Gervais will never actually love you. Not even your family wants you. But it’s worse for me. Imagine it was your husband, and you were having his baby.”
“But you aren’t having his baby,” Jovie told Pamela. “You lied to get him to marry you. You did this to yourself, and then you did this to all of us.” Jovie gestured to their friends. They were separated. No one except Michael and Fanny were together. They were, all of them, divided by the emotions of the last days. Vi doubted that there would be any recovery.
“You ruined us.”
“We were already ruined,” Pamela said hoarsely. “We were always going to be over. It was a long, slow death.”
Ricky glanced among all of them. “Didn’t Lyle’s aunt just die? Did he get the money? He did, didn’t he? Was it enough that you didn’t need him anymore, Pamela? Or were you realizing that the baby was going to come so early that even your dulcet lies wouldn’t be believed?”
“Money,” Violet said. “Love gone wrong. Betrayal. All the classic motives. Go on, Pamela. Take this chance to say goodbye and maybe beg one of them to take your baby. The poor mite will be born in jail as it is.”
Pamela searched among them and then said, “Fanny?”
“Tell us the truth.”
“Please, Fanny.”
“The truth,” Fanny said evenly.
Pamela slumped in despair. “It took too long to get Lyle to make love to me and I got pregnant. It took so long to get his attention. I was too far along by then and thought I could lie. But he was starting to get suspicious.”
“So you killed him,” Fanny said flatly. All the tears had finally stopped, and Violet would have congratulated her, but they still needed the confession.
“I tried to lie and say that babies came early in my family. He didn’t believe me.”
“So you killed him,” Fanny repeated.
“I…”
“You’re caught. You were seen. None of us killed him.”
“I didn’t,” Pamela lied, but no one believed her. “I didn’t.”
“You set my husband up as the killer, and now you’re asking me to take your baby?” Fanny stepped away from Michael and leaned into Pamela’s space, yanking her hand from her belly. “Tell the truth.”
The roles had changed, and Fanny was the cruel emotionless one and Pamela was the weeping one.
“I told him you were in the garden. I said you were arguing with Michael, and you were probably looking for a broad shoulder to cry on. Lyle left in minutes. I took the housekeeping key, followed him to the garden, picked up a branch I had found earlier in the day when he had left me alone, yet again.”
“All of it,” Fanny demanded.
“He was calling for you. I threw a rock so he turned, and then I hit him as hard as I could. I hit him for every time that he left me for you or compared me to you. I hit him for making me feel like nothing, and then I hit him again because I hated him.”
Jovie covered her face with her hands.
“Take my baby?” Pamela begged Fanny who looked as surprised by Pamela’s confession as Pamela herself seemed to be.
“No,” Fanny said flatly and then she left the room.
“Fanny!” Pamela cried. “Fanny! Please.”
Gervais snorted and followed Fanny. Ricky and Jovie left next and then Lila and Denny. Violet glanced at Jack. He gave the barest nod.
“I’ll make sure your baby is all right,” Violet told her.
Pamela’s mouth was trembling as she nodded. A moment later Hamilton arrested her.
Chapter 17
“Gervais has a sister who hasn’t been able to have a child,” Jovie told Violet the next morning. “I’m going to visit her. I’ll tell her what I know and send her to you. I’m already sure she’ll leap at the chance to adopt a probable niece or nephew and save them from an orphanage.”
Violet nodded and then glanced at Jack. He was standing at the end of the oversized, wrap-around porch, smoking his cigar. Pamela had been taken to the local police station the previous night and they’d all slept easier knowing the murderer was gone. Hamilton had left early to write reports and would be back soon. The rest of Violet’s party were only waiting for Ham’s return before they took an auto back to London.
“Come with her,” Violet told Jovie. “You don’t have to be alone.”
“It doesn’t feel so,” Jovie said. “Fanny broke with me. She told me that I should have trusted her. Michael told me that I should have told him what I knew. That I should have never let things get so bad for Fanny. He said it was my fault for not doing my family duty and speaking up.”
Violet muttered a curse and then snapped her mouth shut. Blaming Jovie was the natural response for the self-absorbed.
“Did you want me to have my man of business see if he can retrieve the money your parents left you?”
“You would do that?”
“Friends look after each other.”
“Like I should have looked after Fanny,” Jovie said, bowing her head.
“No,” Violet disagreed. “No, not like that. Michael is blaming you for what he should have seen. It’s easier to make you responsible than admit the fault might lie at his own feet.”
“Thank you for looking after me and helping me,” Jovie said. “All I wanted was to avoid Gervais.”
Violet didn’t bother to reiterate that if Michael had been looking after Jovie as he expected her to look after Fanny, it wouldn’t have been necessary for Jovie to attach herself to Violet’s friends.
“Just come to London after you help with the baby. I’ll have my man see what he can do for you.”
Jovie nodded and kissed Vi’s cheek. She went back inside the hunting lodge and Violet made her way to Jack. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You smell nice.”
He kissed the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her too.
“I love you, Violet Wakefield.”
“I love you,” she echoed.
“You slept last night.”
“I suppose that it felt as though we had won. We caught the killer, we found out why, and we agreed to help the baby and the brewer. I don’t love what happened, but I do feel good about having done what we could.”
“That we did.” Jack pressed another kiss on her head and then tilted her face towards him. He placed a gentle kiss on her temple. On her nose. On each eye and then finally on her lips. “We did what we could.”
They took a wide rocking chair near the edge of the large porch and watched the trees wave in the wind until the auto from the police stopped in front of the lodge. Hamilton got slowly out of the auto and walked up the steps. Jack called to Ham and he crossed to them. Jack handed over his cigar as Hamilton sighed and sat down.
“I hate cases like this,” Ham said. “She wanted me to promise her you could be counted on to help her baby. I swore you could.”
“You know that I am,” Violet replied. “We’ve already got an idea working.”
“I’ll have the local boys tell her.” Ham puffed on the cigar and closed his eyes in the peace of the moment. Long minutes later, Lila and Denny joined them. None of them were joyous that day, but they did feel good being together.
“I gotta say,” Denny said idly. “I love you all.”
Violet smiled against Jack’s shoulder.
“You would love my baby for me,” Lila told Violet. “If I did something terrible, you would look after her. I wouldn’t even have to ask.”
“I would,” Violet answered.
“You wouldn’t place her somewhere else. You’d take her home with you. Love her like you’d love your own children. Raise her and look after her and settle her into life as well as possible.”
Violet nodded and she could feel Jack nodding as well. “Of course we would,” Jack p
romised.
“That’s why we want you to be her godparents.”
Violet gasped, her eyes immediately welling with tears.
“This is where you say yes,” Lila told Violet, handing over the handkerchief that had been at the ready.
“Yes!”
“Of course,” Jack echoed.
“We’ll all look after your child,” Hamilton told Lila and Denny. “Official godparents or not.”
“Speaking of families,” Lila said. Her voice was gentle and entirely not lazy. “Are you done fighting yours?”
“Yes,” Ham agreed. “Violet is going to write to Rita, but—” He pulled a letter out of his pocket and handed it over to Violet. “Maybe you would send this with yours.”
“I will,” Violet promised.
“Tell her how pathetic he is,” Lila demanded.
“Tell her we miss her,” Denny added. “Also our tables are out of balance without her.”
“That will definitely bring her home,” Jack agreed. “Who wouldn’t drop an overseas adventure seeing lands that few in England visit to come back and balance out a table?”
“Tell her I love her,” Ham ended.
Denny cleared his throat and glanced at Lila. “That might do it.”
“I would guess so,” Lila said, laying her head against Denny’s shoulder. “It would work for me.”
Ham didn’t look convinced, but Violet thought it would work as well.
“Ham,” Violet told him, “even if she does come home…”
Vi waited until Ham’s gaze met hers and then she glanced up at Jack and lifted a brow.
“It doesn’t mean you don’t have to beg,” Jack told Ham. “Bended knee, protestations of love, poetry and song. Rita isn’t like Fanny. Rita is the captain of her own fate, the protagonist of her own story, the maker of her own dreams.”
“Chocolate.” Denny lifted Lila’s hand and kissed her fingers.
“Dancing,” Lila added.
“Just love Rita,” Violet told Ham. “Just love her. Show her. Tell her. But love her.”
“I already do.”
The END
