by Lyndsey Cole
Hannah parked at the police station and calmed herself with several deep breaths. Juliette passed behind her car, looking like she was in a hurry.
Hannah opened her door and called to her. “How did it go with Deputy Larson?”
Juliette’s pale face turned toward Hannah. She blinked but didn’t smile. Her cheeks puffed out before she sucked them back in. “Not very well, I’m afraid.”
Hannah remained silent, hoping that Juliette would elaborate.
“The fact that I disappeared after Monique’s body was found makes the deputy think I’m hiding something.”
“She said that?”
“Not in those words, but all her questions were different variations of where did I go and why did I leave.”
“Did you tell her about Harold and Monique’s argument?”
“Yes, but that put me close to the pool so I think it may have done me more harm than good.” Juliette’s shoulders sagged. She ran her fingers through her hair. “I told her I saw Monique at the bottom of the pool because you told me not to lie, but as soon as I saw her eyes pop open with surprise, I knew I should have kept that to myself.”
“I told you not to lie but you didn’t have to offer information that she didn’t ask for.”
“She sort of did ask. She asked me if I knew where Monique was. The question caught me by surprise and since I hesitated, I knew she suspected something. So,” Juliette flipped her hands up in defeat, “I didn’t lie.”
Hannah put her hand on Juliette’s arm. “Don’t worry, Pam will find the killer.”
“I hope you’re right because right about now, I think it’s going to take some kind of miracle to get me out of this tangled web. If Harold pushed Monique in the pool, I’m sure he’s devious enough to cover his tracks. If it was Gwen, I’m not sure about her smarts.”
“I’m glad you didn’t lie for Harold. That would have been a terrible strategy.”
Juliette clutched Hannah’s arm with a strong grip that dug her fingernails into her skin. “Please help me.”
“I’ll try, but I have some questions I want answered.”
Juliette’s hand fell to her side. “What questions?”
“From the last time you stayed in Hooks Harbor; when my cottages still belonged to my Great Aunt Caroline. Something happened then and I want to know if it’s connected to what happened to Monique.”
The last bit of color seeped from Juliette’s face.
“I don’t have time now, but I’ll be expecting some answers,” Hannah said without taking her eyes off Juliette.
“Soon.”
Chapter 18
Pam had her back to her open office door when Hannah lightly rapped her knuckles on the wood. The deputy spun around. “Good, you got my message. Come in.” She flicked her hand at the one empty chair opposite her desk.
Hannah sat and waited for Pam to get to the point of her request.
They stared at each other in a silent challenge.
Pam sighed. “My father. Did you find out anything?”
“Not really.” Hannah decided that was the safest answer. It wasn’t a lie and it didn’t betray Jack. She looked away from Pam’s steady stare. She didn’t know what Jack’s problem was and she knew he wouldn’t want them talking behind his back. Especially if she told Pam anything that would be upsetting to her.
“Not really. That’s about the wishy-washiest answer you could have given.”
Hannah realized she gave herself away by averting her eyes. She looked at Pam again.
Pam’s elbows rested on her desk with her fingers entwined. “You know something.”
“I don’t want to be in the middle of you and your father, Pam. Have you asked him if something is wrong?”
“No. He hates it when he thinks I’m mothering him. You know he doesn’t like to show any weakness.” She leaned forward, closer to Hannah. “Help me out. Should I be worried or am I just being paranoid about nothing?”
“I’m not sure. What I do know is that your father is,” Hannah chose her words carefully, “waiting for information. He’ll share it when he’s ready.” Hannah grinned. “My gut is telling me that we’re all making a mountain out of a mole hill.”
“Who all?”
“You, me…” Hannah mentally kicked herself. She didn’t want to tell Pam that anyone else was worried about her father.
“And?”
“Great Aunt Caroline.”
“She contacted you? Something must be wrong for her to get in touch with you.”
“Caroline said that Jack wasn’t returning her calls. She’s suspicious. Like you. I don’t want to start something that turns out to be nothing, but I saw an envelope on his table. It was from a medical lab.”
“That sounds like something,” Pam said. Her frustration was obvious.
“He hasn’t opened the letter yet. He’s not sure he wants to know what it says.”
Pam slammed her hand on her desk. “That’s ridiculous. If there’s a medical issue, he needs to start treatment as soon as possible.” Her reaction was eerily similar to Meg’s.
“That’s sort of what I told him, too. I think if it is bad news, he’s not going to do anything. Or else, why wait? It’s his decision in the end.”
Pam quickly swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “It’s selfish. That’s what it is.” She looked at Hannah. “I can’t imagine waking up one day without being able to stop at that curmudgeon’s house first thing in the morning for the only decent cup of coffee I get each day.”
“I suppose that’s why he doesn’t want you, or any of us, to know. He doesn’t want all of us to hover and ask him how he’s feeling and treat him differently.”
“You’re right, Hannah. Thank you for telling me. I won’t say anything to my stubborn father.” She smiled. “He’s one of a kind.”
“He is a special kind of special.”
Pam smiled.
They both sat, lost in their thoughts for several minutes.
Hannah broke the silence. “Can I ask you something now?”
Pam’s lip twitched and she rolled her eyes. “I suppose I owe you but I know you know I can’t give you any information about the murder investigation.”
“Please. I wouldn’t even consider asking about that.” Actually, she was itching to ask about the conversation Pam just had with Juliette, but she chose to stay in a safe zone instead.
“As long as we have that clear, go ahead. What’s on your mind?”
“Did you dig up anything about that other model that was staying at Caroline’s cottage with Harold and Juliette six years ago?”
Pam leaned back, apparently relaxed now that Hannah was asking about a different case. “I researched Harold’s photography business and there was an article published in the local paper about him. It was more of a personal interest story and it mentioned that Harold did a lot of shoots for swimsuit advertising and calendars, that sort of work, but there was no mention of the names of any models.”
“We know Juliette was there. Did you ask her about it?”
“No. It never crossed my mind. I don’t see any connection to what happen at the Paradise Inn to a model leaving suddenly six years ago.”
Hannah pushed herself off the chair. “It would be a long shot.” She turned to leave.
“Hannah?”
Hannah looked back at Pam. “You will let me know if you find out anything else about my father? Even if he tells you to keep your lips zipped?”
“If it’s important, I’m sure he’ll tell you himself when he’s ready.” Hannah hoped that answer satisfied Pam. She didn’t want to agree to something she might not be able to do.
“You’re clever with your words, Hannah Holiday. I’ll give you that.”
Without planning to, Hannah turned her car in the direction of the cottage where Great Aunt Caroline was staying. She didn’t stop to think whether it was a good idea or not, she went on impulse.
As Hannah pulled in behind the tidy cottage, s
he hoped that more memories had returned to Great Aunt Caroline about Harold and Juliette’s visit when they stayed at her cottage six years earlier. Hannah knew it was unlikely, but there had to be an important reason why Juliette was dredging up that visit. It was possible there was a connection. But what?
As Hannah followed the path around to the front of the cottage, Great Aunt Caroline sat on a swing in the shade of a hemlock tree. It was strategically located to be hidden from most eyes. She held a book in her lap, and her feet kicked the ground to keep the swing in motion. The rhythmic squeak of the swing matched the in and out of the waves. Caroline didn’t look up as Hannah approached.
The setting was peaceful and she hated to interrupt Caroline’s quiet moment but she stepped closer.
Great Aunt Caroline’s hand moved to her forehead shielding her eyes from the sun. “Hannah? What are you doing here? Is it Jack?” The book slid off Caroline’s lap and thudded on the ground.
“No. Jack is…working through a decision.” Hannah sat on the swing next to her great aunt.
Caroline’s touch on her arm felt like the soft flutter of butterfly wings.
Hannah sighed. “He has an unopened letter with medical test results.”
Caroline nodded. “He doesn’t want treatment if it’s bad news. He and I have talked about this. I’d probably make the same decision. Is that what you came to tell me?”
“That and something else. I’m wondering if you remember anything else about when Harold, the photographer, stayed at your cottage with some models. Yesterday, you said he was rude and one of them left. Was there anything else?”
Caroline leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her feet kept the swing moving back and forth. A lobster boat moved along the water in front of the cottage, stopping at buoys to pull up his lobster traps.
“Harold was on the beach with his camera berating the model that she had gained too much weight. I was horrified, Hannah. The woman was beautiful, with curves, and long brown hair. I can still see her face. It was frozen into a mask. Her emotion hidden. Then she pointed at Harold but I either never heard what she said or I’ve forgotten. All I could think was that I wanted to put my arm around her, comfort her, and tell that horrid man what I thought of him.”
“That model wasn’t Juliette?”
“No. That woman left and, afterwards, Harold was as charming as a prince toward Juliette. I still regret that I didn’t find out more details.” Caroline turned to look at Hannah. “You think that incident has something to do with what happened at the Paradise Inn?”
“I think I’m grasping at straws. All I know is that Juliette told Ruby she scheduled this photo event here in Hooks Harbor six months ago, before Harold told her he wanted a divorce. She said she had some unfinished business to clear up. Something that happened six years ago.”
“Hmm.” Caroline put a finger curved with age to her lip. “Could she be trying to track down that other model?”
Hannah stretched her arm along the back of the swing and straightened her legs out in front, keeping them off the ground. “That or track down someone who knew her. Maybe she was hoping to talk to you or look back at the guest list.”
“The guest list! That’s a good place to start. I always had a guest sign-in book in the office. It will take some digging, but if Juliette remembers the dates, you could narrow your search down.”
“If that model signed the book.”
“Yes. If.”
“Where did you store those books?” Hannah was mentally going through all the boxes Great Aunt Caroline had left for her, and guest books weren’t part of the memory.
“Jack should have them in his basement. I had limited space for storage and that kind of thing didn’t seem important but I couldn’t bring myself to dump them either. I’m sure Jack will still have them.” Caroline stopped the swing and bent down to pick up her book. “You don’t happen to have any books in your car, do you? They are great company for me these days.”
Hannah stood and stretched. “Actually, I do have a box of books I’ve been planning to drop off at the library for their next book sale. I’ll get them.”
“Hannah? Before you go, give me a hand, please. These old joints tend to stiffen up and I have a bit of trouble getting out of this swing on my own.”
Hannah frowned. “What would you have done if I didn’t just happen to stop by?”
She laughed. “Waited until someone did show up.”
Hannah pulled Caroline to her feet and it felt like she was as light as a feather. “That sounds like a terrible plan.”
“Don’t look so worried. Meg comes over every day to bring me dinner. I told her to bring food for several days but she wouldn’t listen. I think she really only wants to check and make sure I haven’t keeled over dead in her brother’s cottage. Wouldn’t that be a shock around town? I can imagine the headline: Dead woman dies a second death in ocean-front cottage.”
Caroline found great pleasure in that potential mystery but Hannah didn’t laugh. Going through Caroline’s death once was enough even though she knew she would have to face it again someday.
Hannah helped Caroline into the cottage before she retrieved the box of books. “I hope there’s something in here that appeals to you. I’m a fan of mysteries, so this is a collection from cozies to thrillers.”
“That doesn’t surprise me since you take on these real-life mysteries all the time. Personally, I don’t like anything too gory but a nice light entertaining whodunit will keep my mind busy without giving me nightmares.”
Hannah hugged her great aunt, careful not to squeeze too tightly. She felt so fragile under her cotton sweater.
“Give my best to Jack and tell him if he doesn’t pick up the phone the next time I call, I’ll be knocking on his front door in the middle of the day for all the neighbors to see.” Caroline cackled. “I miss that old curmudgeon. Tell him to come visit. Soon. Before one of us is dead.”
Chapter 19
Jack was napping on his comfy recliner when Hannah let herself in. At least that was what it looked like he was doing.
Without opening his eyes, she heard him say, “I’m trying to get some peace and quiet but you just barge in anyway. Don’t you have any manners?”
“I have a message for you but with that attitude, I’ll leave instead.” Hannah headed back toward the front door.
His eyes popped open. “A message?” He sat up straight. “Get back in here, Hannah Holiday. Did you visit Caroline again?”
“Are you psychic?” She looked at him with her hands on her hips. “Yes, as a matter of fact I did, and she had a great suggestion about where to look for information about the time Harold stayed at the cottages six years ago.”
He snapped his fingers. “Of course. The guest sign-in books,” he said before Hannah had a chance to tell him. “I should have thought of that already. I’ve got them all in the basement, organized by date. Do you know the date we’re looking for?”
“No. Great Aunt Caroline thought it was six years ago.”
Jack stood. He massaged his lower back a couple of times. “Let’s go take a look. With both of us going through the signatures, it shouldn’t take too long. Of course, there’s no guarantee that there even is a signature. Not everyone signed the book.”
“Jack?”
He turned around and faced Hannah. His eyes read her expression. “You told her, didn’t you? You told Caroline about the lab test.”
Hannah ignored the actual question and delivered Caroline’s message. “Her message is that if you don’t pick up the phone the next time she calls, she’s coming over here in the middle of the day. She wants you to visit.” Hannah lowered her voice. “Before one of you dies.”
“Ha! Caroline is already dead. She can’t die again.” He tried to make light of the subject but his chin trembled slightly.
“She had a comment about that, too. She’s already written the headline for when the day comes: Dead woman dies a second death in ocean-front
cottage.”
Jack shook his head. “That one has a sick sense of humor. What should we do about her?”
“Go visit, Jack. She does have a point. Spend as much time together as you can.”
“Oh, don’t go getting all maudlin on me, Hannah Holiday. If your Great Aunt Caroline didn’t pull off that whole death thing, you wouldn’t even be living here. Did you remember that?”
“Yes.” Hannah’s voice was barely a whisper. Now that she knew the truth about Caroline’s living status, that fact was never far from her thoughts. She could be back in California with a failing dog walking business. But she refused to let Jack make her feel guilty about a plan that she had absolutely nothing to do with. “Let’s look for that guest book.” She headed for the cellar door without looking back to see if Jack was following.
She flipped the light switch up. She licked her lips and dried her clammy hands on her pants. A warm light flooded the basement. Good lighting at least, she thought. Basements had never been her favorite place to wander around. Too many cobwebs, damp floors, and just the whole underground part made her queasy.
Jack bumped into her. “Well, are you going down the stairs or do I have to push you?”
Hannah turned her head to glare at Jack. “Don’t even try to make a joke.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. “You’re scared? Your jaw muscles are working overtime. You don’t want to go into the basement.” It wasn’t a question. He read her face.
Hannah’s voice dropped. “My father locked me in the basement once. He thought he was teaching me a lesson, but—”
Jack pulled Hannah away from the cellar door. “Don’t even tell me more. I don’t want to know how he thought he could justify something like that. Call Ruby and tell her to come over and help me find the right year.”
With shaky fingers, she pulled her phone from her back pocket. The call went straight to voicemail. “No answer. She either has her phone turned off or the battery is dead. I’ll just run over to her house.”
Hannah couldn’t get out of Jack’s house quickly enough. Looking down the basement stairs had made her chest tighten. As soon as she was outside, she sucked in the fresh air, calming the panic that had almost taken over. She let out one last long exhale, shook her hands, and walked to Ruby’s house.
