by Hillary Avis
Charley stepped forward. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
The four men looked at each other as though they were each daring the other to explain.
“Well,” Ryan said. “It’s occupied.”
Charley gaped at him. “By whom?!”
Beside her, Bethany felt rather than saw Milo pull out his notebook, ready to record the answer.
It was Simon who finally spoke. “It’s Bella. Bella’s in the crypt.”
For a moment, everyone was silent, and then the little chapel erupted in noise as everyone spoke at once.
“Hey!” Charley yelled to be heard over the top of them, waving her arms. “Everybody out! I’m securing the scene until I figure out what the heck is going on! Wait outside until I get your statement.”
Bethany shuffled out behind Milo, sneaking sideways glances at everyone else. Lucien looked faintly queasy and was mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. Simon gripped Lucien’s left elbow, but it was unclear who was holding up whom. Ernesto was white as a sheet, as though he’d seen a ghost.
He kind of has seen a ghost, now that I think about it.
Outside, the rain had tapered off to a mere sprinkle, so Bethany waited on the church’s stone pathway.
Simon wasn’t enthusiastic about the weather. “I’ll be in the car,” he growled, and stalked to the black sedan parked in front. Lucien trotted after him and slid into the back seat, apparently just as eager to get out of the damp. Ernesto walked the perimeter of the small cemetery, checking the fence line and pulling the occasional weed.
Once a groundskeeper, always a groundskeeper. I guess old habits die hard.
Ryan joined Bethany and Milo. “We can walk up to the big house if you want to stay dry,” he offered.
Bethany shook her head. “I don’t mind.”
“There’s no way I’m moving an inch,” Milo said breathlessly, practically vibrating beside them. “If Bella LaFontaine was murdered, Charley will have to give me the scoop.”
“We don’t know what happened yet,” Bethany reminded him. “This could all have an innocent explanation.”
Ryan exhaled in a rush. “I hope you’re right. This is not the complication I need right now.”
“Yeah, me either.” The cherry on top—more crime scene tape as wedding décor.
A morgue worker exited the church and made a beeline for the van, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He retrieved a black body bag and speed-walked back to the chapel.
“That’s not a good sign.” Bethany shook her head. “If Bella was properly interred, they wouldn’t take her to the morgue.”
“I think it’s pretty clear from Simon’s reaction that she wasn’t properly interred,” Milo said wryly.
What was Simon’s reaction? He seemed almost...angry.
“It’s a little curious that Bella turns up dead right when she’s about to claim half of Simon’s fortune, isn’t it?” Bethany asked, just as the chapel doors opened again, this time for the gurney that now presumably held Bella’s body rather than Bernard’s.
“Well, from what I saw, she’s been dead a while,” Ryan said, his voice low.
Bethany watched as the workers loaded the body into the van, closed the doors, and drove off. Charley came out as the van drove away. She motioned to Simon and Lucien to get out of the car, and they—along with Ernesto—grudgingly joined the group.
“I’m calling a forensics team down here,” Charley explained. “They’ll collect evidence and then put Bernard back where he belongs. At all times, they’ll treat his body with respect—I don’t want you to worry about that.” This was directed to Simon, who nodded.
“Evidence?” he asked.
Charley nodded. “I can’t go into specifics, but Bella didn’t die of natural causes...and she didn’t die recently. I don’t need a coroner to make that call. For now, the chapel is a crime scene.”
And so is your wedding venue. Bethany sighed.
“And so is my museum,” Ryan said.
Did he read my thoughts? Bethany looked at him sharply.
But he just stared off into the distance, muttering to himself. “First the delays, now this. Dad isn’t going to be happy. He just may bail on the whole project, at this rate. Sell off the collection individually.”
Lucien frowned. “He wouldn’t do that, would he?”
Ryan rubbed his forehead with his knuckles. “At this point, I don’t know. He’s talked about selling the collection if the museum fails. He’d at least recoup his investment that way.”
“He can’t!” Lucien’s eyes went wide, and flecks of spit flew out of his mouth as he spoke. “This collection is my life!”
Ryan just shook his head, shrugging helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you. Let’s hope he doesn’t find out about Bella LaFontaine’s murder until it’s solved, though. That’s exactly the kind of publicity this project doesn’t need if it’s going to be successful.”
Lucien looked miserable, but he didn’t press the issue.
“The public deserves to know about an ongoing murder investigation,” Milo said, crossing his arms. “There’s a killer on the loose!”
Charley shook her head. “We need to keep this under wraps for the time being. A two-week moratorium on coverage is the best for the community. There’s no point in scaring people until we know more.”
Milo’s face twisted like he’d tasted something sour. “Is it just a coincidence that it’s two weeks until your wedding?”
“Yes,” Charley snapped, her cheeks blazing. She looked ready to bite his head off.
If I were Milo, I’d take a step back. The woman is armed and dangerous.
“You can’t stop me. Just because law enforcement asks for a coverage moratorium doesn’t mean I have to give it.”
Charley set her jaw. “True. Although if you’re a friend, you won’t go blabbing to my bride about this, either. She deserves the day of her dreams, not her nightmares.”
“Are we done here?” Ernesto asked abruptly. Bethany jerked her head to look at him; she’d totally forgotten he was there. He shuffled his feet. “I have a long punch list today at the main house. I should get back to work.”
Charley gave him a quick nod. “I’ll come up and get your statement in a bit. The rest of you, stick around.” Ernesto nodded to all of them and left, striding quickly up the driveway toward the main house.
“I’m on the clock, too,” Lucien huffed. “It’s not like his work is more important than mine.”
Ryan put his hand on Lucien’s shoulder. “You know, it’s fine to take the day off. I’d tell Ernesto the same thing, but he left too quickly. I’m sure you’re both shaken to learn about Bella’s death.”
Lucien nodded, swallowing hard. “Perhaps I will.”
He started down the walk, but Charley grabbed his sleeve to stop him. “Don’t leave your studio until you give your statement to the police, do you understand?”
“Perfectly.” He jerked his sleeve out of her grasp and left, following the same route as Ernesto.
“I want to go home and lie down—I’m just sickened by the whole thing,” Simon said wearily as they watched Lucien head back to the main house.
Charley shook her head. “Not so fast. I’d like you to come down to the station. We need to have a chat about why your stepmother was found dead on the day she stood to inherit half the LaFontaine fortune.”
That’s right—my thoughts exactly! Bethany nodded smugly.
Simon looked less thrilled than Bethany felt, but he didn’t object. “I’ll follow you in my car.”
“No, you’ll ride with the nice officer I’m going to call,” Charley said. “In the meantime, why don’t you have a seat in the back of mine?”
She led Simon by the elbow toward her car. Then, as though she’d suddenly remembered something, she turned back toward Bethany, Milo, and Ryan. “You three, wait up at the estate, would you? And—keep an eye on things until I come up there. Shouldn’t be long.”
Ry
an nodded and cleared his throat. “No problem.”
Milo bounced on his toes at the prospect of poking around the main house. Bethany rolled her eyes and then looked back and forth between the two of them. “Well, come on.”
She got two grins in return, and the three of them walked briskly up the driveway together. They both kept brushing their arms against hers, and Bethany could tell that they were giving her cues to take their hands—as though she’d make her choice right then and there.
I refuse to take the bait. She quickened her stride so she was a little ahead and kept her eyes trained on the house. As they neared, she noticed someone leaving the building through the side entrance, carrying a large duffel bag. She squinted at the figure but couldn’t make out who it was.
“Is that the art conservator guy?” Milo asked.
“I think so,” Ryan said in a low voice. “Strange. Charley told him to stay put in his studio.”
“Good eye,” Bethany said to Milo. “I didn’t recognize him from this far away.”
He winked at her and reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze. Bethany flushed and glanced at Ryan to see if he’d noticed, but he was still watching Lucien loading the duffel bag into the trunk of a car.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said. “I can’t think of a reason why he’d be taking anything from the museum home.”
“Gym clothes?” Bethany asked. Seems like the most logical contents of a duffel bag.
Ryan shook his head and sped up his pace. “He’s not a gym guy, trust me. Unless you consider the refrigerator a weight machine.”
Milo quickened his steps to match Ryan’s speed, nearly jogging to catch up. “Hey, you never know when someone’s going to turn into a gym guy. Just because he doesn’t work out now doesn’t mean he’s never going to.”
Bethany chuckled to herself as she broke into a jog to keep up. She was pretty sure Milo was talking about himself, not Lucien. But her amusement dissipated when she watched Lucien stride back into the building.
“Maybe he’s hiding something,” she said thoughtfully. “Something he doesn’t want Charley to see when she comes into his studio.”
Ryan gave a terse nod. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I need to find out what he put into his trunk.”
“Can I come, too?” Milo asked, slightly out of breath.
“Not sure I have much choice about that.” Ryan gave Milo a sideways glance, but Milo was unperturbed.
“Great.” He slowed as they approached the main doors and turned to see if Bethany was behind him. She gave him a little wave.
Hi, yes, I’m here. The two of them were so wrapped up in their back-and-forth posturing that they’d totally forgotten about her. Ryan seemed to realize it and grinned sheepishly as he held the door open for her and Milo.
The foyer was deserted. All of Ernesto’s team must be busy in the conservatory. Their footsteps echoed on the marble. Even their breathing sounded impossibly loud. Bethany struggled to calm her thudding heart.
Ryan paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Let’s be cool. We don’t want to freak him out, just find out what he put in his trunk.”
“What’s our cover story?” Bethany asked. “We can’t just go up there and ask him outright.”
Milo nodded. “Maybe pretend you’re giving us a tour of the building? Maybe we’re interested in having our wedding here since we heard Charley and Kimmy are getting married here?” He looped his arm through Bethany’s and tugged her closer to him.
Ack! She couldn’t really shake him off without being rude, but the pained look on Ryan’s face was almost too much to bear.
“Good enough,” Ryan choked out, and turned to climb the stairs.
“Come on, honey,” Milo said, grinning at her. “Let’s take a look around the place.”
Ryan’s shoulders tensed in front of them, but he didn’t look back.
Ugh...this is too much for me. Bethany could think of no more awkward scenario than pretending to be engaged to one guy she was dating in front of the other guy she was dating.
Well, at least I can use this chance to figure out who left me the love poem. Maybe figuring that out would give her the clarity she needed.
Chapter 12
RYAN STRODE UP THE stairs quickly, gesturing to one side as he spoke. “The staircase would be great for photos. The bride can also dress upstairs and make her grand entrance this way.” His voice echoed up the stairs. Bethany was sure Lucien would be able to hear it from his studio at the end of the hall. They reached the top of the stairs and Ryan pretended to show them the restroom and then proceeded down the hall.
“We could make space up here for the wedding party to get dressed, though of course certain rooms that we use for art storage and restoration would be off limits. You’ve seen the conservator’s studio, Bethany, so you know what I’m talking about.” Ryan nodded to her politely.
“You have?” Milo asked. She nodded, her eyes trained on the studio door to see if Lucien would stick his head out when he heard them talking.
“I toured it with Ryan yesterday,” she murmured. The door cracked, and she could see Lucien’s eye peeping between the door and the frame. She flashed Milo a smile and raised her voice. “That’s what made me think this place would be perfect for our wedding, too.”
Lucien flung the door to the studio all the way open and came out into the hall. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged.” His voice was sulky. “I didn’t see a ring on your finger yesterday, either.”
Bethany whipped her hand behind her back, but not before Lucien had verified his previous observation.
“I think you’re lying.” He pursed his lips and looked at Ryan, who averted his eyes. “I’m not an idiot—I saw how you two were with each other. I don’t believe for a minute she’s with this...man-boy. Not after the way she was looking at you. So stop this farce and tell me what you really want.”
At the word “man-boy,” Milo dropped Bethany’s arm and swallowed hard.
Bethany rushed to cover for them. “We just...we just...”
Ryan shook his head, indicating that he didn’t want her to lie anymore. “We need to know what you put in your trunk.”
“We saw you outside with the duffel bag,” Milo added.
Lucien’s eyes darted past them to the stairs, and he seemed to be assessing whether or not he could make a break for the exit. Ryan moved so he stood closer to Bethany, between Lucien and the stairs, and Lucien’s shoulders sagged.
“I can’t tell you that.” He shook his head, his eyes on the floor and his voice full of regret.
“Fine, we’ll just wait for the cops, then,” Milo said happily.
He’s probably anticipating a dramatic arrest scene when Charley finds something in the trunk of that car.
A million questions flooded Bethany’s mind. What could Lucien be hiding? Was it the weapon that killed Bella LaFontaine? Charley hadn’t mentioned how Bella was killed, just said it wasn’t a natural death. Could it be a gun? Did Lucien have other weapons stashed in his studio?
“It’s nothing illegal,” blurted Lucien desperately.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Then why hide it from the police? I assume that’s why you put it in your car instead of leaving it in your studio, right?”
Lucien nodded.
“So if it’s not illegal, what’s the problem?”
“Well.” He shifted uncomfortably. “It doesn’t look good. But I swear—I didn’t do anything wrong. I just knew it’d take some time to sort out, and we’re on such a crunch getting the Peregrines restored in time for the museum opening. I didn’t want to risk arrest while the police figured it out. I have all the paperwork,” he added hurriedly.
Milo and Bethany looked at each other and it seemed he shared the same thought she was having. What could it be?
Lucien’s eyebrows knitted together. “Please, I’ll explain everything to you. Just don’t turn me in.”
Ryan looked grim. “Give me your key
s and I’ll go get the bag. I need to see this for myself before I make a decision.”
Wordlessly, Lucien fished in his pocket and tossed him the key fob. Ryan took it without comment.
“Watch him,” was all he said to Bethany and Milo before he jogged down the stairs and out of sight.
Nobody spoke. Lucien just eyed them carefully, as though they were Dobermans rather than a chef and a food writer. Ryan was back in just a few minutes with the duffel bag, taking the stairs up two and three at a time. Judging by his face, he’d had a peek inside before he brought it back. His cheeks were two shades too pale and his mouth was set in a thin line.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, shaking his head as he reached the landing. His hands shook slightly as he placed the bag on the floor. The zipper was open and the bag flopped open slightly as he set it down, affording Bethany the smallest glimpse of a browned linen bandage.
She took in a sharp breath. “That’s not—”
Ryan was already nodding. “It is.”
“What?” Milo asked, bending forward and opening the bag all the way. He stared at the contents and then up at Bethany. “Is this part of a freaking mummy?”
She nodded, unable to formulate a sentence. Milo bent away from the bag and started retching and hyperventilating. She kneeled down beside him and gently patted his back until he was able to quell his nausea and stand up again.
Ryan was staring intently at Lucien. “Why do you have this? This is insane!”
Lucien licked his lips nervously. “No, no, it’s not! I told you, I have the paperwork!”
“Oh, don’t worry, Ryan, he has a mummy foot permit.” Milo, still slightly green, grinned at his own joke.
Ryan didn’t even crack a smile. When he spoke again, his voice was grave. “You need to explain yourself right now, Lucien. Right. Now. Why do you have a piece of Bernard LaFontaine stashed in the trunk of your car? Because if you don’t tell me the truth, you’re going to wish you were in jail, so help me god.”
“I can explain everything.” Lucien held out his hands in an attempt to ease the intensity of the conversation. “Why don’t you come into my studio and sit down for a minute, and we’ll all chat, and then everything will be fine.”
