by Esme Addison
Alex wasn’t sure how much she should say to Bryce. He really did seem like a nice guy, but he also had motive, means, and opportunity. She was treading on dangerous ground if she revealed the corporate espionage angle because that was the same motive he would have had for killing Neve. But—and it was a big but—if he was the killer, talking about Montgomery might make him feel like she wasn’t on his trail and maybe, just maybe, he’d slip up and say the wrong thing.
“Neve might have learned some company secrets while working for Leviathan in Hawaii, and maybe she told the wrong person and was killed because of it.”
Bryce lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve met Montgomery a few times. I can’t see him getting his hands dirty killing someone.”
“I know—he’s the type that would just pay someone to do it. What would you do if you were him—if you wanted to get rid of someone because they knew too much, as the saying goes, but you didn’t want to do it yourself?”
He rubbed a hand across his beard. “I’d find someone close to her, someone she trusted but someone who could be blackmailed into doing the deed.”
Alex stared off into the distance. “That’s good. Very good, Bryce.” But she was also alarmed. Was this what Bryce had done? “But who was close to her in town? She didn’t live here.”
“Dylan, me, Jasper … we all knew her in some capacity.”
“Right,” Alex said, and tried not to look worried. “How is it that Leviathan has a monopoly on ozite?”
“The story is that only Montgomery knows where it’s located, somewhere off the coast of Russia, but it’s an old family secret, one that only he knows.”
“But also found off the coast of North Carolina?”
Bryce shrugged.
Alex thought for a moment. “Montgomery is Russian?”
“I’m not sure. Certainly he’s spent a lot of time there for business purposes. That’s been documented in the business trades.”
“Maybe Neve discovered the location of the ozite, and Montgomery had her killed because he was afraid she’d tell someone. Or perhaps she did tell someone, and that was her punishment? But who would she tell?”
He stared at her. “A competing company seeking their own access to the mineral?
Like Bryce’s Tarheel Defense with its two divisions? Alex gnawed nervously on her bottom lip. Was he admitting to something right now, right here?
But he only laughed. “It’s an interesting theory. How to prove it?”
“I don’t know.” She shifted uncomfortably behind the counter. Why was he being so forthright with her? Was it because he planned on killing her too? Alex turned to check on a customer by the perfumes. Maybe she was just getting paranoid, but Bryce seemed guiltier to her by the minute. After a few moments, she returned to the counter, where he was still waiting for her.
“I actually stopped by here for a reason,” he began. “Two reasons. First, I wanted to thank you. Dylan urged me to tell the police the full truth about my whereabouts when the murder occurred. He didn’t name names, but I know he’d only listen to you about something like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“He cares a lot about you. He talks about you all the time, how he screwed things up, how he wishes he could go back in time and fix his mistakes … I knew it had to be you that told him to tell the truth.”
Alex wasn’t sure what to say. Was he happy he’d been forced to tell the truth or only pretending? Or was he secretly planning his revenge?
“And second, I have something to share with you about the night of the murder …”
Alex gazed at him expectantly, wondering if this was the moment he confessed he was the killer and then dragged her into the backroom and bashed a—
“It’s about your friend Celeste.”
Startled out of her reverie, she stared at him. “What?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
And her stomach sank. But then hope fluttered in her chest. If he’d been in the garden when she was, maybe he could provide an alibi for her, and she for him. “You saw her?”
“She was doing what I can only describe as”—he leaned over the counter and lowered his voice—“dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight.”
Alex squinted at him. Batman references? “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“She was by a small pool of water with her arms outstretched to the sky—to the full moon—barefoot, dancing and chanting. She had some odd items at her feet—trinkets and such. They were shiny, glittering in the moonlight. I couldn’t get a close look …” He nodded. “Yeah.”
To his credit, Alex thought, he looked very confused.
“Is your friend a—a witch or something?” He held up both palms in a placating gesture. “No judgment—everyone does their own things, you know. I’ve dated a hot Wiccan or two in my time, so …”
Alex groaned. Oh, Celeste, what were you up to? And then another thought occurred to her. “Did you tell the police this?”
“Oh yeah. The detective? He was very interested.”
I’ll bet, Alex thought. “What time was this?”
“Maybe seven thirty or eight?”
Celeste would’ve still had time to commit the murder—at least in Jack’s eyes. No wonder he wasn’t about to remove Celeste from his list.
And Celeste! What had she been thinking?
After Bryce left and there was a break in the customer flow, Alex called Celeste. Her call went straight to voicemail.
When Alex closed down the shop for the evening, she texted Pepper and asked her if they could meet at the wine bar down the street for a little happy-hour discussion. Pepper agreed, telling her she’d be there as soon as she submitted an article she was working on. Alex asked Minka if she wanted to join them, but she declined, saying she had a date with her television.
At six thirty, most of the shops on Main Street were closed. The sky was still sunny, streaked with fluffy white clouds and patches of aquamarine sky. Head down, Alex began texting Pepper, telling her she was about to arrive, when she almost bumped into a woman.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alex said as she peered into the face of a young woman with pale skin and dark circles under big, red-rimmed gray eyes.
The woman offered a weak smile. “It’s fine. You didn’t see me.” Her voice cracked. “No one sees me.”
Alex placed her phone in her purse and looked at the woman. “Are you okay?”
The woman shook her head. “Not really. I’ve just come from the police station.” A mixture of despair and disgust passed over her face. “My husband died, and the detective in charge has decided he died of a drug overdose, when Chris never did drugs.” Her voice rose almost hysterically for a moment, but then she took a deep breath. “We had kale smoothies for breakfast and chia bowls for lunch. Does that sound like the type of man who would put drugs in his body?”
This was the wife Kamila had mentioned, the one who didn’t believe her husband had died the way the authorities said. “I’m so sorry for your loss—” Alex began, but the woman cut her off.
“Everyone is sorry,” she said, her voice breaking into a sob. “But no one is sorry enough to do something about it.”
“What do you think happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. That police detective is the one who should be asking me this question and then listening to my answer. But he won’t. It was not death by accidental drug overdose.” She shook her head. “If the police won’t help me, who will?” Her eyes filled with tears again, and she swiped at her eyes.
Alex felt helpless to comfort the woman. She dug into her purse and pulled out a card for the apothecary. Smiling, she said, “My name is Alex and I work at Botanika.” She pointed in the general direction of the store. “It’s not much, but we have teas and things that may help with your stress.” Her words felt entirely too inadequate for the moment, but the woman took the card anyway.
“I’m sorry to bother you. You’re a stranger, and here I am spi
lling my guts to you on the street.” She waved the card at her. “Thanks, I guess?” She whirled around and hurried in the opposite direction without another word.
Alex stared after her, wondering if Jack was indeed doing everything he could for her. She knew firsthand that when Jack came to a determination, he stuck with it unless he was forced to see otherwise. He’d done it with her aunt, and now he was doing it with Celeste. She’d have to ask him about this case, too, the next time she saw him.
She turned to the bar, and when she opened the door, she was greeted by low salsa music and the murmur of customers grouped at tables in the darkly lit room. There was a small dance floor, and a few couples joyfully moved to the rhythm of the music, twirling around with perfectly syncopated steps.
She turned toward the dining area. The air was fragrant with smells Alex couldn’t identify, but her stomach growled in response. She sat at the bar and reviewed a tall, laminated menu, finally deciding on a small plate of appetizers she could share with Pepper, and a Chilean sauvignon blanc.
A few moments later Pepper arrived, and she immediately ordered a glass of wine.
Alex indicated to the waiter that they’d like some sparkling water too, then pushed the charcuterie board toward Pepper. “These are for us to share.” Alex selected a cube of brie and fig and chewed on it thoughtfully.
Pepper ate several slices of aged cheddar and soppressata salami. “I’m starving. I just realized I haven’t eaten since noon,” she complained. “My mom is freaking out because there’s a murderer on the loose with the festival about to happen, and of course my dad’s not happy.”
Grateful for the “in,” Alex said. “Speaking of your father, did you know Montgomery Blue is using your father as his alibi?”
Pepper gasped. “My dad? I know they spent time together that night, but …” Her brow wrinkled. “He really shouldn’t drag my father into a murder investigation. I know my dad wants to run for senator someday.” She pulled out her phone. “Let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” She texted a message, waited for a response. Screwed up her face.
“Gross, Dad,” she muttered to herself. Texted again and then put her phone up. Laughing, she shook her head. “He says he had a bout of diarrhea brought on by those mini key lime tarts they were serving.” Alex nodded. “He was in the bathroom at eight thirty and for about twenty minutes after.”
“You’re right, that is gross and TMI, but it shows that Montgomery lied. He couldn’t have been with your dad if he was in the bathroom.”
“Now Montgomery has opportunity.”
“But not motive.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Pepper said, fishing into her tote bag. She held up a manila folder. “My notes on the Bizarre Bellamy Bay blogger.”
Alex moved closer. “What did you find?”
Pepper spread the folder on the bar to reveal several pages of typewritten notes. “The first thing I did was use some of my connections to locate the blogger’s IP address.”
“And?”
“Nada. He uses a VPN—that’s a virtual private network—to hide his location. He appears to be in Europe, Asia, and a bunch of other places. Then, I sent him an e-mail with a fake tip.”
“Was there a response?”
“Yes. But it was very guarded. He didn’t give any identifying information about himself. And after he checked out my tip, he told me it was inaccurate and never contacted me again. Even though I tried.”
“What did you tell him?”
Pepper laughed. “I’ve seen some really crazy things on that blog, like there’s a company creating a material that can block magical powers, like Kryptonite but for witches, I guess? Which is ridiculous since there’s no such thing as magic, so obviously that one is made up. I made up an equally silly idea. Two actually. First, I said I’d seen a UFO behind the lighthouse, and then I told him there was a werewolf in the maritime forest, and then asked him if we could meet to discuss it. It took him like twenty-four hours to figure out I was full of it—on both accounts.” Pepper handed Alex pages. “This is the e-mail exchange.”
Alex gave the papers a cursory look. “Anything else?”
“I was able to interview one of the blog commenters who said he’d talked to the blogger on the phone a few times. And he confirmed that the blogger is a he, that he’s very interested in the paranormal activity in town, and that he had contacts in high places that leaked him information.”
“I wonder how he got those contacts?”
Pepper shrugged. “He said after he started blogging, people just started contacting him, people who were able to confirm their positions in intelligence, the military, government, and corporations. I guess people who are sworn to secrecy about things they really want to share. Anyway, I was really excited about meeting him, until it went nowhere.”
“I sent another e-mail. If he contacts me, I’ll let you know.”
“What makes you think he’ll take you any more seriously than he did me?” Pepper assessed her friend for a moment, then gasped. “You have real information to share?”
“Maybe.”
“Hold that thought,” Pepper said, standing up. “Nature calls.”
Alex sipped on her replenished glass of wine and gazed around the room while Pepper excused herself to the restroom. As Alex’s eyes adapted to the dark, she blinked when she saw someone she thought she recognized. Jasper. He looked miserable at a table as he nursed a drink. Montgomery sat with him, his face composed, his body language relaxed.
She picked up her phone and called Jack. “You’ll never guess who I’m looking at right now.”
“Hello to you too.” He chuckled. “Who?”
“Jasper. And he’s inside that new wine bar downtown—”
“With?”
“Montgomery Blue.”
Jack was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”
“No,” Alex said, a tad frustrated. “But they’re both on your suspect list—”
“No, they’re both on your suspect list.”
“You’re telling me you don’t want to know what they were talking about? Why they’re meeting?”
“No. And I definitely don’t want you finding out for me.” He paused a beat. “Understood?”
“I’m sorry, you’re breaking up,” she lied, and then hung up. A feeling of anxiety tightened her chest. She thought she was a pretty good liar when she needed to be, but it didn’t mean she enjoyed it.
Pepper returned and sat down. “What did I miss?”
Alex quickly got her up to speed on the two men. “I know it’s a small town, and they’re both involved in the festival, but is it more than that? Jasper looks really upset. I’m just dying to know what Montgomery could possibly be saying to him.”
“Oooh. Sneaky,” Pepper said. “I can totally help you. I’m going to pretend to take a closer look at the artwork near their table, and see if I can listen in.”
Pepper finished her wine and stood. “Here I go,” she whispered with a wicked grin.
“Wait,” Alex said, wondering if Pepper had too much wine. Pepper was already threading her way through the room.
Alex waited impatiently as Pepper pretended to talk on the phone while she gazed at a painting of a vineyard near their table. A few moments later, she returned and sat down.
“Well, Jasper’s upset and Montgomery is consoling him.”
Alex gazed at the two. Jasper’s head was bowed while Montgomery looked slightly bored. “Anything else?”
Pepper shook her head. “They got really quiet when I came close.”
Alex thanked her and called Jack back. “I got something.”
“I thought I told you—”
But she ignored him and pressed on with her update. She knew that he wanted to hear it, even if he pretended that he didn’t. She told him what Pepper heard, and then paused.
He finally responded. “Thanks.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome.” And then she remembered her encounter with the grievi
ng widow. “Have you wrapped up the OD case?”
“Yeah.” His voice took on a wary tone. “Why?”
“Just wondering how you resolved it so quickly. Was it really cut-and-dried?”
“Where is this coming from? Don’t tell me you don’t have your hands full with the Neve Ryland case?”
Alex explained how she’d run into the wife of the OD victim and what she’d said to her.
Jack exhaled. “Evelyn Robinson. She’s a teacher at the high school. Seems nice enough, but it’s a sad case, and I feel for her—heck, we all do. But he was found with enough uppers in his system to kill three men. A clear-cut case after we found bottles of pills in his car.
“Evelyn said he’s been working long hours and coming in on the weekends. She thought he was possibly using the drugs to stay awake, and she’d warned him about using them, but thought he was smart enough not to overdose on them. He was a normal guy with a normal job with normal friends. A wife. A kid. No pets. Nobody in his life that would want to murder him and make it look like an accidental overdose.”
“You interviewed his wife, colleagues, and friends?”
Jack exhaled loudly into the phone. “I know how to do my job, Alex. I went to his home and spoke to the wife. I took a look around—no search or anything, just trying to get a feel for the guy. His wife showed me his home office; she was cooperative. It was filled with stacks of comic books, shelves of posable action figures … superheroes, Justice League and Marvel Universe characters. Apparently, he was a collector of that kind of stuff. You know the type— grown-up geek with money to buy toys.” He laughed. “Posters from the Thor and Superman movies all over the place.”
“But still—”
“He killed himself. Accidentally. And that’s all there is to it.”
Alex was silent.
“I’m just finishing up at work. Do you want me to swing by and drive you home?”
“No, I’m fine. I walked. And anyway, Pepper and I are hanging out.”
“Yeah,” Pepper sang into the phone, “we’re having a girls’ night out.” She waved the bartender down to order more drinks and food.
“But come by the shop in the morning. I want to talk about Montgomery Blue.”
