“CeCe,” Margot warned, putting out a hand toward her friend. “Don’t—”
Her friend’s scream shattered the night and Margot rushed into the bushes after her, stopping short when she saw what her friend had.
A man lying face down on the ground.
Chapter 3
“Now you say you just happened to see him there?”
Margot’s head snapped up at the man’s tone. Detective Sal Rexton of the Gold Springs Police Department stood with his arms akimbo, staring down at CeCe like she’d been the one to blame for the man’s body lying in the woods.
“No, Detective,” Margot said, coming to stand next to her friend and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “Don’t treat CeCe like she’s the killer here.”
“The killer, you said?” He pulled down his wire-rimmed glasses and pierced her with a blue-eyed stare. “What makes you say anything about killing?”
Margot frowned. Surely he was joking. But the longer she looked back at him, waiting for him to claim he’d been joking, he didn’t move—he barely blinked.
“Well, I thought it was obvious.” Licking dry lips, she turned to look back at where they’d found the body. Lab techs had set up bright lights to shine down so that they could accurately process the scene, though she did notice a striking lack of caution. “Surely you noticed the blunt force trauma on his forehead there.” She pointed a finger in the direction of the man’s temple. “And the fact that, on his right hand, his knuckles are bruised as if they connected with something hard—recently. Clearly he took a punch at whoever came against him.”
“Clearly my boot,” Sal said. “What you think you’re seeing is wrong, Miss Margot. He fell, hit his head on this here tree--” He indicated a place where blood had been wiped against the tree. “--and fell here to succumb to his death. We’ll know more once the M.E. takes a look, but don’t let that pretty little head of yours get in a twist creating murders where there are none.”
The cadence of his speech reminded Margot of old southern gentlemen who had little regard for a woman being anywhere but the kitchen. Granted, Margot did spend quite a bit of time in the kitchen, but it was for her business—not the happiness of a man. She licked her lips, almost smirking at her feminist thoughts. Calm down, he’s just seeing what he wants to see.
“I’ll defer to your judgment,” she said in a placating tone.
Her merely humphed and turned back to CeCe. “And what were you two doing out here so late?”
Margot frowned and pressed her lips together. No need to antagonize the man.
“W-we weren’t out that late. I mean…” CeCe swallowed and her gaze swept to the man on the ground before fleeing back to the detectives. “We were coming back from dinner. I suppose we stayed a little later talking with Lela and Stan. I wanted to introduce them to Margot.”
“And why is that?” Detective Sal was leaning forward, his eyes nearly slits as they dug into CeCe’s. Margot fought the urge to come to her friend’s defense. As if she or CeCe needed defense. She knew they would find that the man had been dead for at least two hours before, judging on what she could see from his injuries. They all had alibis during that time. The question was, who didn’t?
“Because she’s my friend. Is there a reason you’re questioning me like this, Detective Rexton?”
“No.” He straightened and flipped to a new page in his small notebook. “Now, Miss Margot,” he said, forced southern charm dripping from his words, “why exactly are you here at the resort?”
She was about to open her mouth to answer when another thought struck her. Her gaze flickered to CeCe’s then back to the detective. Should they tell him about CeCe’s stalker? Or was that unrelated? Margot knew that all information was helpful in such cases, but she wasn’t sure that CeCe was even legitimately being stalked. She hadn’t yet seen any evidence and if CeCe hadn’t felt the need to share, should she?
It felt slightly dishonest, but she wanted to double-check what her friend was experiencing before muddying the waters. At the moment, Sal thought that this was an accident—and there was always the chance that Margot was wrong. She never wanted to be too proud to admit something like that.
“I'm here to visit my dear friend CeCe,” she said with a forced smile to match the detective’s. It was clear he didn’t like her.
He grunted and jotted down a note.
“Do you know the deceased?” he asked, looking back at CeCe.
Margot’s friend nodded, swallowing and trying to keep her gaze from traveling back to the dead man. “Y-yes, his name is Darren. He’s a relatively new hire who came on last season and they hired him back for this year. He is—was—a really great guy.” CeCe gave in to the tears that had pooled in her eyes and Margot took up her place next to her friend again.
“We’ve already given our statements. Is there anything else you need us to tell you?” Margot asked, gesturing toward her friend. “I think we need to go rest.”
He looked at the scene where his techs were still at work and then down the road to the row of onlookers. Stan and Lela were making their way down the path at that moment as well.
“No. I’ll have a conversation with the owners and, should I need to, I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” Margot said, to which he replied with a grunt and went off to meet with the Wilkinsons.
“Can we go?” CeCe asked, her shoulders shaking.
“Yes, let’s get you to your cabin.”
Margot maneuvered her friend in the direction of her cabin, but took a moment to scan the crowd. It looked like the usual collection of curious faces. She recognized some of them from their dinner earlier and a few new faces that she either hadn’t seen in the dining hall or who had arrived later.
She did spot Jenny Blane, and Fran and Edgar Tallison standing off to the side, but no one else from her table. Pulling her attention away, she helped CeCe open her door when her hands shook too much, and directed her inside.
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make you some chamomile tea. It’ll help settle your nerves.”
“All right. I’m going to change first,” CeCe said, the weariness in her voice evident. She disappeared into her room and Margot searched the cabinets for her friend’s favorite tea.
A muffled scream came from the bedroom the next moment. Margot dropped the box of tea and ran toward the door to find CeCe in a heap on the floor.
“CeCe!” Margot rushed to her side, grabbing her shoulders and shaking gently. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
As if coming out of a faint, CeCe blinked and lifted her hand to cover her face. “I— Oh, Margot!”
“What is it? What happened?”
Tears began to fall down her friend’s cheeks and she sniffed, a shaking finger pointing to the bed.
There, nestled on the pillows atop the made-up bed, was a white teddy bear. A flicker of a memory made Margot frown. “Isn’t that—”
“Yes,” CeCe sobbed. She heaved in a breath and looked up at Margot. “He’s found me. Margot, Rick’s found me!”
Margot looked from her friend to the teddy bear. “Hold on now,” she said, reaching for the bear. She knew that fingerprints wouldn’t be visible on the bear, though when she picked it up, she did notice a card. Careful not to touch more than the edges, she opened the small card.
Miss me?
Margot swallowed hard. It wasn’t exactly a threatening note, and yet it was. It obviously hinted at the fact that there was a prior relationship—or marriage, in this case—but it wasn’t signed, and anyone could have put it there.
“CeCe, are you sure that—”
“It’s his handwriting,” she said, her hand gripping a cross necklace at her throat. “I’d know it anywhere.”
Margot went to the closet and put the bear on the top shelf. She didn’t know why, but throwing it away seemed unwise. And still, if there was something in it or on it, keeping it there shouldn’t hurt.
“What are you doing?”
/>
“I’m making you that cup of tea and you are going to tell me everything that’s happened since you first found out Rick was stalking you.”
“You mean when it first started?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and reached for the pile of clothes she’d already pulled out of a drawer before she saw the bear, Margot assumed.
Nodding once, Margot went back to the kitchenette area and made both of them steaming cups of tea with honey and lemon, then joined her friend in the living room area where each took up a side of the cushioned leather couch.
“I'm sorry, Margot,” CeCe started.
“Don’t be.” Margot smiled back at her friend. “I’m honored you’d think of me to come and help you during this time. I’m sure there’s an explanation for all of this.”
“But if he’s able to get in my room?”
“Right…” Margot nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that, actually, and I think you should come and stay with me. Since I’m here with you, I think we’re fine, but once we’re done talking, you can come and stay in the super comfy loft. Will that work?”
CeCe nodded. “That would make me feel a lot better.”
“So…” Margot pushed past the silence. “Tell me what happened.”
CeCe looked down at the mug in her hands and frowned. “We’d been married five years when I realized something was wrong,” she began. “He would be gone really late and sometimes have to go into the office on the weekends. I didn’t think anything of it at first, he was part of a startup and that’s what happens. But then I called one night and he wasn’t there. In fact, I asked about him working the previous weekend and no one knew about it. It was bizarre. Then I started to put two and two together.”
“He was having an affair,” Margot filled in.
“Yes.” She sniffed and Margot saw the tears in her eyes. “I wanted to work it out, to move past it, you know? But he was done. When the divorce was final, I continued to pursue my career and tried to move on.”
Margot felt for her friend, the devastation of losing her own husband to death had been tragic and painful, but she hadn’t wondered at his fidelity.
“But then a year later, I started getting the notes. Just one here and there—on my car windshield, in my mailbox, you know. I knew immediately it was Rick. He talked about what he’d lost and how sorry he was, but he never came right out and said what he wanted. It was maddening and I had no way to make him stop because I didn’t know where he was or how to get in touch with him. They escalated to where he sent me a bouquet of black roses and that’s when I knew I needed to do something—if only for my own sanity. I took all the evidence, notes and everything, and gave them to the police. I got a restraining order, but that wouldn’t really help. That’s when I met Stan and Lela and the rest you know.”
Margot took a moment to mull over her friend’s words. “Did he continue to bother you once you went to the police?”
CeCe thought back, her eyes searching the distance. “Yes. He sent a few more notes and ‘gifts.’ Stupid things—something like that teddy in there--” She shivered. “--but when I accepted the position here, I waited until two in the morning and left. All of my stuff—everything—was left behind. I eventually had movers pack it up and put it in a storage facility. I’ve only been back there once to get a few things, and made sure no one followed me. I even made up a name to put it under. Margot, it’s like I’m living in some type of television show. How did he find me? I’ve been so careful.”
Margot nodded, puzzling through what her friend had shared. “And, from what you know, Stan and Lela haven’t posted your photo or your real name anywhere? Not on the website or in any magazines or something?”
CeCe shook her head. “I’ve been very clear with them that I must remain anonymous. They like it, actually. They say it adds mystery. I’m very careful around the guests as well. As far as I know, my real self is a ghost.”
“Taxes?”
“Filed through a CPA with a P.O. Box in a town about an hour away. He understands the situation.”
Margot nodded again. From all angles, it would seem her friend really had disappeared as best she could. But there were still ways to find a person—she knew that firsthand from the last case she’d helped on where her assistant, Dexter Ross, had found two people from an incident forty years before.
“All right,” Margot said, shaking her head. “I’ll have to think this through. In the meantime, let’s go to my cabin and get some rest, all right?”
CeCe nodded, but gripped Margot’s hand before they could stand. “Marg, I hope I haven’t put you in any danger.”
Margot smiled. “I don’t think you have, but if so, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been in a dangerous situation and it certainly won’t be the last.”
Chapter 4
Margot woke to sunlight steaming through the windows overlooking the valley. It was a beautiful, serene setting but the view was marred by Margot’s thoughts of the events from the night before. Clearly Detective Sal Rexton thought that the staff member’s death had been accidental. His questions had all been in line with that, despite the evidence she’d pointed out.
Then there was CeCe’s explanation with what had happened with her ex-husband. Had he truly wanted to get back with her, wouldn’t he have eventually made contact? Or was his purpose for the notes and gifts merely to torment her? But why?
And, despite all of those things, the questions that remained were of equal value. Was it Rick bothering CeCe now? If so, how had he found her? And was this crude stalking of her linked to the staff member’s death or were they two separate crimes?
Margot wasn’t one to place the blame for things on coincidences, and yet sometimes, they did happen.
She leaned over and picked up her phone, the fluffy comforter sending out a whoosh of air as she leaned down to read through her messages. Since she had closed up her shop for the weekend, she hadn’t expected much.
There was an email about a delayed order, a few requests for special pastries for parties, and then an email from her staff member. Tapping the screen, she brought up Rosie’s email. It was a short message telling her to relax, have a good time, and not to worry about anything—including Bentley. Margot laughed. The older, African American woman had been a staple at the shop for years now, taking on shifts most afternoons so Margot could have a break. She was also friends with one of their regular customers, Bentley Anderson.
Margot pictured the older, retired lawyer, his gray hair always mussed and his nose stuck in a crossword puzzle. She wondered how he was faring for a whole weekend without his usual order of coffee and a caramel pecan pastry. It was funny how just the thought of pastries set her fingers to itching. She wanted to bake—always did in the mornings—but this was her vacation, or so she told herself.
She typed back a quick response to Rosie then double-checked to see if Adam had gotten back to her. There was still no reply and she went as far as opening a new window to send him another email when she heard the creaky ladder stairs that indicated CeCe was awake. Adam would get to her email when he could—or it was possible he still didn’t have any information to convey—and she needed to have patience.
Closing her email app, she pulled on a sweater to ward off the morning’s chill and went to meet her friend.
“Morning,” she said, noting the bags under CeCe’s eyes. “Did you sleep well?”
CeCe shrugged. “Not particularly, but it wasn’t due to lack of trying. That mattress up there is extremely comfortable, but I just kept seeing images of Darren and…” She pressed a hand to the base of her throat. “I barely knew him, but seeing something like that sticks with you.”
“It does,” Margot said, coming up to her friend and wrapping an arm around her. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”
“But, Margot…” CeCe pulled away to look up at her friend. “Do you think Darren’s death had something to do with Rick stalki
ng me?”
Margot forced a smile. “I have no idea. It may have been an accident like Detective Rexton said…” She almost added, or not, but thought better of it, knowing her friend’s worried state already. “But the main thing is to find out how that teddy bear got into your room. Who has access to the rooms?”
CeCe frowned. “Housekeeping of course, but I happen to know they are very careful about room keys. It’s not easy to get into someone’s cabin.”
“Do you have to cook for breakfast?”
CeCe looked at the clock on the microwave and nodded. “I should be leaving soon.”
“Okay, you go and I’ll stop by your cabin on my way there.”
“But why?”
“To see if any of the doors or windows were forced. If not, we’ll know to talk to housekeeping.”
“All right, but be safe.”
Margot smiled. “I always am.”
Her friend showered and changed while Margot got ready for the day and then the two walked down the path. They split off and Margot went to CeCe’s cabin while her friend went on to the dining hall. Margot had offered to go with her, but CeCe declined, saying that she would be fine. Seeing a few staff members out, Margot felt inclined to agree.
Margot walked back down the path toward CeCe’s cabin and took it in from the perspective of someone who would want to break in. It wouldn’t be difficult, seeing as how the cabin was encased by several larger trees. Margot’s cabin was similar, though the back of hers faced the incredible valley view where as CeCe’s backed up to the woods.
Being careful to take note of her surroundings in case she was observed, Margot began to systematically check the doors and locks. There was the front door, but it was accessed by the same type of swipe card Margot had. Those locks were much harder to break in to and, if tampered, she was sure there would be visible evidence. She saw nothing.
Margot Durand Cozy Mystery Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6 Page 12
