Staring down at the book in her lap, she set it aside with the others. Her hunt for the truth kept turning up empty. Sighing, she picked up the last book. Girl, Interrupted.
Reading the synopsis, Wren tried to picture her father reading this sort of book. “A teenage mental ward?” she whispered. “Why would father read a book like this?”
Shaking her head, Wren wondered if she’d gotten it all wrong. Maybe he hadn’t been reading any of these books. Her father was more into the classics that medical books. If he was going to read an autobiography or biography, he wouldn’t have chosen one like this.
Picking up the books, she set the on the table. She’d return them when daylight arrived. It was silly to look for clues in books anyway. Standing, she wandered her room and checked to see if her door was still locked. It was.
“How did the intruders get inside?” she asked herself.
Thinking about what the chief had said, they must have gotten through a door. Yet, no one could find an unlocked door or window. Either they’d shut and locked the exit when they left, or someone had let them inside.
Shivering, Wren didn’t want to think like that. It was looking more and more as if someone from the inside was assisting the killer. Yawning, Wren circled the room again.
“I don’t want to think of such a thing. Pinpointing someone as the killer would be absurd, and I can’t think of it being someone I know.”
However, the police hadn’t found the entrance or exit of the intruders. It was also suspicious that they’d entered the house undetected, managed to knock all of the guards out, and had gone upstairs not to kill but to plant evidence.
Shaking her head, Wren didn’t quite understand why they’d do that. “They came inside to plant evidence against me, but they didn’t take the opportunity to kill either of us. Why? I feel as if we’re working with two different criminals or something.”
Plunking down on her bed, she tried to think that thought through. “Perhaps, there’s the real killer who murdered father and wants to kill Sybelle and me. Then, maybe there’s someone else who’s taking advantage of the situation to frame me?”
Wren dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “Well, that makes me feel better. I can either expect to be jailed or killed. My prospects are looking up.”
She fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Thinking about the layout of the house, she attempted to think of a way in or out they wouldn’t have thought about at the time.
“If I take a mental tour of my house, I might see something we missed. Then, when it’s daylight, I can go investigate it,” she whispered.
Picturing the estate in her mind, she could see the front of the house and the door. Walking up the front steps, she entered the door. The large expanse showed off the foyer with large paintings of a variety of outdoor scenes, windows lining the double doors to the left and right as they looked out the front, two hidden doors to the right beside the first staircase. One was a closet, and the other was a servant’s door to go up and down the stairs but was also used by the family to get to the basement when needed.
The staircases to the right. Two leading to the second floor and wrapping around to lead to the third and fourth. Between them, a round table with flowers in its center and a hallway behind it. The hallway housed the burgundy room, yellow room, and two bathrooms. Used for guests, they weren’t the more popular rooms, one on each end of the house.
To the left, another hallway encased behind columns, the doors stretched out behind and housing the blue room, then the library, the green room, and then the study. The hallway also led to a door to the kitchen. Inside the kitchen housed all of the modern conveniences, two stoves, a refrigerator, a freezer, and its own pantry. An attached dining room with doors out to the back was where the servants ate. They also had another door leading to the basement.
Between the kitchen and the family’s dining room was the butler’s pantry. On the right end of the kitchen was another door to enter and exit the hallway. Another door toward the back allowed the servants to crossover and get to the next floors by it as well.
On the second floor, the king’s room took up the whole back wall. The third and fourth were different in that they were broken into three guest rooms on the third floor and smaller rooms on the fourth floor for the servants. One side was for the men, and the other side was for the women. Wren could picture the u-shape and large expanse stretching out.
“They must have gotten in from the back. Perhaps one of the servants left open a back door. We have so many doors and windows along the front and back of the house. I should check them.”
Opening her eyes, Wren looked around the room. No more sounds echoed from every corner, and she was feeling much better. However, getting up and searching the house was out of the question. She wasn’t going to go about the house in the dark and by herself.
Getting up, she went to the door and peeked out the window. Dawn was beginning to break. Streaks of orange light filtered through the trees. Criss-crossing on the ground, the light began to illuminate the dark places.
Giving a sigh of relief, Wren knew Ellie would be on her way in a couple more hours, and she might help Wren check all the windows and doors. The police had said everything was locked up, but there was a chance she might catch something they wouldn’t.
Going to her closet, she looked through and decided on capris and a t-shirt. Something comfortable and easy to get around in as she searched. It wasn’t as if she was leaving this house again until the bad guys were caught.
Wren changed her clothes and folded her nightclothes. She put them on a shelf in the bathroom closet to where later. She re-brushed her teeth before leaving the room.
Yawning, she opened the curtains and settled into a chair. Having a perfect view of the driveway, all she had to do was wait for Ellie. Her friend would help her search.
Blinking, Wren watched the shadows dance and move across the backyard. They played over the gardens and through the trees. Eyes beginning to hurt, she allowed them to slip closed. Ellie would be here soon anyway.
Hunter arrived at the school by 1030. Climbing from the car, he looked at the monstrosity of rock and brick. The main building was huge, and there were three other building surrounding it. Each large and intimidating.
He could see why the princess wouldn’t have liked it. That is, if she were thinking about how dark and menacing it appeared. According to the little he’d been told by Ellie, Princess Wren hadn’t wanted to go away and had blamed her stepmother for the change.
Opening the back door, he pulled out his satchel and took a moment to dislodge his notepad. Consulting his notes, he saw he’d penned Ellie’s words about Wren being brought home in trouble once when she was thirteen.
Wondering if there might be more of an answer to that story, he walked to the steps and jogged up them. At the door, he pushed one of the double doors open and caught the blast of central air. It felt pleasant, and after the initial chill, he was able to enter the hall without feeling as if he’d stepped into a freezer.
“Bore da, may I help you?” asked a voice, on his right.
Turning, Hunter spotted an older woman with glasses and black dress jacket addressing him from the other side of a glass window. He approached with a smile and took a card out of his pocket.
“Good morning,” he responded. “I’m Ioan Hunter, a private investigator. I wondered if there might be someone available to talk to me about Father Henry Grigor and Princess Wren Snow? I’m helping the police track down the assassin who made an attempt on their lives at the king’s funeral.”
The woman’s face went through a series of motions as she reached out to take the card from him with the very edge of her fingertips. He watched as her lips pursed, cheeks sucked in, and eyes narrowed. By the time he’d finished his spiel, she returned to her disapproving look and blinked up at him.
“You’re helping our Father?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He could have swor
n she harrumphed at him.
“You’ll want to talk to Father Grigor’s second, Father Awstin. He can walk you through anything you need. Please take a seat, and I’ll get him for you.”
Hunter nodded and thanked her before dropping into one of the wooden chairs lined up to the right and left of the window. Looking around the hall, it looked like a typical school with white walls and doors lining the left and right. The one difference he saw at a glance were the cloth chairs and a sofa at the apex of the hallway. A little nook where students or families could sit and chat or study.
A man stepped out of a door to Hunter’s right. Standing, he took in the newcomer who could only be Father Awstin.
“PI Hunter?” the older gentleman asked, as he walked toward Hunter.
Nodding, the detective stepped forward and shook the other man’s hand. “Father Awstin, I presume.”
“Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I heard your working on the case to find the assassin.”
“Yes, Father Awstin. I’m working hard to find the person responsible for these shootings. I know he hit Father Grigor. I wondered if we might have a private chat to go over some questions.”
“Of course, right this way.”
Hunter followed him down the hall and inside a room with a door marking the father’s name on the outside. He led Hunter to a round table in the room and indicated a chair as he took one.
Finding himself sitting with his back to the door, Hunter slid the chair until he was more to Father Awstin’s left and had both doors in view. He looked up to find the father smiling at him. He returned the smile and took a second to assess the man.
At a glance, Father Awstin looked spry, tall, and thin. The lines around his lips, eyes, and forehead spoke of his age. His hair was gray and thinning on top. His default facial expression was stoic.
Taking a deep breath, Hunter began. “Thank you for meeting with me.”
“My pleasure. I would love to help in anyway, even though I don’t know how much help I can be.”
“I understand that. However, there are things you might know or be able to point out that could help us locate the assassin. To begin, does the father have any enemies you are aware of?”
The man straightened in his chair, and Hunter saw his eyes narrow.
“Are you trying to insinuate the assassin was someone Father Grigor knows?”
“I’m trying to find the connections, if there are any connections. Anything you can tell me would be helpful.”
“Father Grigor is a man of the highest integrity. It is my sincerest doubt anyone would want him dead. I’m sure he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, it appears the assassin already got away with killing the king as well.”
Point One for the father, Hunter thought.
“We are working on that correlation as well. I just wondered if there was someone who knew the royal family and the father who might want them dead? Perhaps an unhappy student?”
Hunter could see the sour expression spreading on the father’s face and knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere. This man didn’t want to tarnish Father Grigor’s sterling reputation even if someone was angered by the man without just cause. Anyone who thinks they were wronged by the man could be a suspect. It would be an even more solid connection if that same person had conflict with Princess Wren or the royal family.
“I don’t think anyone comes to mind,” the father told him.
Taking a deep breath, he tried another path. “Are you familiar with Princess Wren? Were you here when she attended?”
The man’s face went blank. His professional expression came up, and Hunter knew he’d hit a nerve. Father Awstin shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.
“I came the last two years that Princess Wren was here.”
“Is there anything you can tell me about her as a student? Was she well-liked? Unpopular?”
“We don’t tend to classify our students as popular or unpopular. Princess Wren had several admirers because of her position. She seemed liked well-enough.”
The man was a vault. Hunter could just about see all the secrets bubbling up in the back of the man’s eyeballs. His I-just-smelled-a-dead-fish glance was one twist away from blatant disapproval.
“I see,” Hunter scribbled a note. Nothing important, but he wanted to pretend the man was being helpful. “Could Princess Wren have had any enemies who would want to kill her?”
Startled, the older gentleman blinked and sat back further in his seat. “I couldn’t say.”
“Is there anyone who would know the princess better? Anyone who might be able to help me?”
“I can’t say that there is. Most of her friends graduated with her this past year. Without a warrant, I really couldn’t give you their information.”
“Are there any teachers who might give me some insight into her time here?” Hunter tried again.
“No one is here with our summer break. Everyone tends to go home during this time. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, but our school is ran with an exceptional staff. I’m sure they could only tell you positive things.”
“I’m sure,” Hunter responded, with sarcasm. “Thanks for your time. I’ll be on my way.”
“Certainly. I do hope you find this maniac.”
“We’re working on it,” Hunter said and left the room.
“You can go out through the front doors. If you think of anything else, Mrs. Derog would be happy to assist you. Thank you for stopping by, and I wish you well. Hwyl fawr.”
“Hwyl fawr,” he returned the goodbye.
With that, he shut the door in Hunter’s face. The PI was certain the father had mentioned the old woman to make sure he knew he’d be watched on his way out. Looking down the hall, he was tempted to head that way but didn’t want to burn any bridges in case he had to return.
Sighing, he stuffed his legal pad into his bag and began walking to the door. Passing the window, he found Mrs. Derog standing at attention and waiting for him. She nodded at him as he pressed the door open.
“Good day,” he told her as he exited. Outside, he added, “Sbwriel.”
“Rubbish, indeed,” a voice said to his left.
Jerking backward, he turned his head to find a girl about fifteen standing on the other side of the railing. She had short black hair, brown eyes with purple rings around them, and sharp cheekbones.
“I’m sorry,” he started.
“No need to apologize. You’ve been talking to Father Awstin, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, with a nod.
“You won’t find him telling you a thing. I was in the office. I heard who you are and why you’re here. Follow me. I’ll tell you some things.”
She waved for him to follow her and jumped off the cement step. She rounded the side of the large building and disappeared from view. Rushing down the stairs, he ran after her.
The girl had stopped on the other side. She held up a hand for him to stop or not make a sound. He wasn’t sure which; so he did both.
After a few seconds, she waved him forward, and they continued along the rough side of the school. Once they got to the back of it, she motioned for him to follow her. Sprinting across the open lawn, she made for one of the other buildings. Going around it, he followed her to the tree line on the other side. Once they were there, both stepped into the shadows.
“I heard you talking about the princess. Is she okay?” Not even out of breath, the girl turned to him and asked.
“She is. For now. I came here looking for any lead. I wondered if there might be a connection between her and Father Grigor.”
He watched as the girl’s thin face puckered. Her eyes darkened, and she shifted further into the shadows. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.
“There’s a connection. I know what it is, but you have to make sure of one thing.”
“What?” he whispered.
“Make sure the good father dies, and Wren escapes him once and for all.”
; Make sure the good father dies, and Wren escapes him once and for all.”
“Wren?” Ellie pushed open the door and peeked inside.
The princess was asleep on the couch. Her head tucked against a pillow and feet curled up beneath her. A pile of books rested at her side, and apple cores lined the table in front of her.
It looked as if she had been up for a while, and from what Ellie could gather, the cook insisted Wren had come into her kitchen and taken the apples.
Advancing slowly, Ellie stared at the browning cores and reached out to pick up the top book in the stack, Girl, Interrupted. Staring from the book to her friend to the apple seeds spread on the wooden surface, Ellie had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Wren?” she called, leaning forward to shake Wren’s shoulder.
Jerking awake, the princess stared up at her. The grey in her eyes was startling, and Ellie drew back. Sitting up and wiping a hand across her mouth, she spotted the apples.
“Ellie? Beth yw’r rhain?”
“What are those?” Ellie stared at Wren and wondered why she was asking such an obvious question. “They’re apples, Wren.”
“I knew that,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. Stretching her arms, she smiled up at Ellie. “I was thinking we could retrace the steps of the intruders, Ellie. We might be able to find out where they came in.”
“Wren, why did you eat five apples? The cook said you came down and got them this morning.”
Shrugging, the princess stood and rolled her shoulders. “I suppose I got hungry. Now, let’s retrace those steps. I’ve been waiting for you to get here.”
“Wren, do you like apples now?” Ellie was confused.
“I’m sure I was too hungry to think about it. Come along. After I show you my thoughts, I’m going to take a bath. PI Hunter might stop by with some news today.”
The smile on Wren’s face wasn’t a look Ellie was used to, and she did a double-take. “Wren, you don’t like bathes.”
The princess gave an annoyed sigh and threw out her hands, palms facing upward. “Ellie, it doesn’t matter. Shower, you know what I mean. I didn’t get much sleep thinking of ways the intruders came inside. Let’s go.”
The Four Tales Page 66
