Deadly Editions

by Paige Shelton

  “The same, please.”

  “Very good.” But Vanessa saw through our charade. She didn’t turn to go and place the order with the kitchen but looked at us with tight eyebrows. “What’s up?”

  I smiled. “Do you have a minute to sit?”

  Vanessa pulled out a chair and sat. “Edwin all right?”

  “Oh, yes!” I said. “This has nothing to do with Edwin.”

  Visibly relieved, she said, “Tell me, then.”

  “Vanessa, how well do you know your server Jolie?”

  “Oh. Not well, but well enough to think she’s good at her job. Why? Did she do something?”

  “I don’t think so, but she used to be married to someone I’ve recently met, and I’d really like to ask her some questions about that time. It’s weird, I know, but I want your permission to talk to her.”

  Vanessa smiled. “You don’t need my permission, but if she doesn’t want to talk to you, there’s nothing I can do about it. Who was she married to? As far as I was aware, she’s happily single.”

  I told Vanessa about Findlay Sweet. Vanessa knew all the people in my world, including Tom. She was intrigued by the past story of his time as a fisherman and smiled when I told her that Tom had spilled Findlay’s misbehaving beans to Jolie—back when she was Jessica.

  “I’ll grab her. She’s here, in the break room, not scheduled to be working for half an hour or so, but I’ll see if she agrees to talk to you. Do you really want stew?” Vanessa stood.

  “Please.”

  “I’ll have her bring it.”

  “We’ll tip her well,” Elias said.

  It had been discussed and decided upon; Vanessa wouldn’t feed us free of charge. I’d wanted to enjoy the food in her restaurant, but at first she hadn’t wanted to charge Edwin’s closest friends. We’d decided that it made sense that Edwin ate without paying, but not the rest of us. Vanessa had been agreeable, but I was sure that she still sometimes comped drinks or desserts.

  It wasn’t long before Jolie was walking toward us, though without our order. She frowned, but not unhappily, just cautiously. Her gray-streaked hair was pulled back neatly, and she was tiny, but with wide shoulders that somehow made her seem young. My mind superimposed the younger picture I’d found on the internet over her present face. She hadn’t aged much.

  Elias and I stood as we all shook hands.

  “You want to talk to me about Findlay?” she said.

  “Yes. Is that okay?” I said.

  She sat down. “Why?”

  I didn’t want to tell her everything. I wondered if keeping it simple would work. “I recently married Tom Shannon.”

  It took her a moment to remember, but then a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “A sweet boy, he was. All grown now.” She looked at me. “I don’t know you, lass, but I get the sense that you and Tom will do well.”

  “I hope so.”

  Her eyes unfocused, as if she were thinking back to that time. “He was so nervous to talk to me, but he thought it was the right thing to do. It was, though the task shouldn’t have been the responsibility of such a young man. I should have been paying better attention. Anyway, what do you want to know about Findlay? Though I’m not sure I can tell you much.”

  “You aren’t angry that Tom told you about Findlay’s behavior?” I said.

  Jolie laughed once. “No. I was back then. I was angry at everyone, mostly Findlay. No, that’s not exactly true. Ultimately I was angry with myself for not seeing what was right there in front of me.” She shrugged. “In fact, it took me another marriage before I realized maybe I’m just not meant to be married. I think I pick the wrong ones.”

  “Did you know that Findlay is a driver for a woman named Shelagh O’Conner?”

  Her eyes opened wide with surprise. “The woman who was taken from her home? Really? I had no idea.”

  “You didn’t know he worked for Shelagh?”

  “No. And he’s not a good driver. He was in a terrible accident.”

  “I know. Well, I don’t really know much, but I knew he was in a car accident. Do you know his brother, Winston? He also works for Shelagh, with her horses. Winston and Findlay are roommates.”

  “Back when I was married to Findlay, he and his brother weren’t speaking. I don’t know Winston at all, but as far as I understood, he always worked with horses.”

  “Did you know the man who was recently killed, Ritchie John? Or did Findlay know him?”

  “Not to my knowledge. It was sad to hear about the murder, but the man’s name doesn’t ring a bell. Should it?”

  I shook my head. “No, but maybe Findlay knew him through Winston?”

  Jolie sighed. “No, I don’t remember knowing him at all, but as I mentioned, Findlay and Winston weren’t on good terms back then.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “I think it was just that Findlay was unfaithful and Winston was angry at him because of it. But that could just have been me projecting something. I truly don’t know.”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t know what else I wanted to ask. I wanted Findlay to be guilty of something, but that wasn’t fair. I’d also wanted to appease my curiosity as to why I was sure I knew the woman in the picture I’d seen on the internet. Talking to her made another puzzle piece fit into place, but it felt like I was working on the wrong puzzle now. Jolie and Findlay hadn’t been together in a long time; a lifetime ago it now seemed.

  Jolie sat up straighter. “I know Shelagh. Well, I knew her. Maybe eight years ago, she had a big event at her house. At the time I managed a catering company. She hired us. I had to spend a few days with her, going over detail after detail, time and time again. She was—is—very controlling. And strange. You knew about her past—from a long time ago?”

  Elias and I nodded.

  “Aye, well, I didn’t see Findlay anywhere around there back then. If I had, I probably would have declined the job. I’m over that well enough now, but back then I might have been more prickly. I would bet my night’s tips that she turns up soon and that she will have been behind her own disappearance. She’s a dramatic one, that’s for sure. She was probably bored.” Jolie shrugged. “I’m going to feel terrible for saying such things if she really is hurt or something. I’m sorry, but I just don’t think she’s in dire straits. It’s just my gut talking, and I hope I’m correct.”

  “Any guesses as to where she’d hide?” I asked.

  “She’d hide in plain sight. If she’s putting on an act, it’ll be right there in front of everyone. For what it’s worth, and I think this is why you’re really here, Findlay’s not evil really, though maybe a little mean. He was unfaithful, aye, but that was a long time ago. He was never abusive to me.” She paused. “You know, having spent that time with Shelagh, I saw her controlling, dramatic side a few times, but I also saw her philanthropic side. I can understand her hiring someone to be her driver who had gotten into trouble driving. She believes in second chances. You can’t blame her, aye? Considering her own need for a second chance or two.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  “Aye. Can I help ye with something else?” She put her hands on the table.

  Another server deposited our bowls of stew in front of us. The scents rising to my nose made me at least temporarily forget about everything but the food.

  “Thank you for talking to us,” I said to Jolie.

  She stood but hesitated and then sat again. “I don’t know if you need this, but I think I know where Findlay’s living. He was there about three years ago, that I know for sure.” She jotted down an address on a paper napkin.

  I looked at it and thought it was the same one Hamlet had given me, but I’d double-check. “Thank you.”

  “Aye. Just so you have it.” She said before she quickly turned and got back to work.

  “What do ye think?” Elias asked.

  “I don’t know. She seemed honest. I was really hoping she’d tell us something about Findlay that would somehow lead us
to Shelagh, but I’m beginning to think he’s not as bad a guy as I might have first thought. I wouldn’t be surprised if Shelagh did give Findlay the driving job because of her belief in second chances, though. Are you suspicious of something else?”

  “Do ye think she hasnae really seen him over these last ten years, lass? Edinburgh is a big city, aye, but … it’s just hard tae believe.”

  I thought that over as I ate my stew. I couldn’t figure out why she would lie. I hoped she wouldn’t.

  “I don’t know, Elias, but no matter what, I need to figure out the next clue,” I said. “Any ideas?”

  “I’ll think on it.”

  We ate the rest of the meal in companionable silence.

  TWENTY-THREE

  We probably should have just gotten on with our day, Elias going his way and I going mine. But when we didn’t figure out the clue, my mind went back to Darcy.

  “What do you think, Elias? Do you think she could possibly be the Monster?”

  “I don’t know,” Elias said doubtfully as he started the taxi in the restaurant’s parking lot.

  “She’s so tall,” I said.

  “Shall we drive back by the Roost?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Are ye sure, lass?” Elias was going slowly enough along the parking lot to allow me to change my mind.

  “No. We can’t very well ask her if she’s the Monster. We can’t even ask to have a look at her coats and hats.”

  “Are ye sure, lass?”

  Elias knew what my eventual answer would be, so he wasn’t surprised in the least when I gave in and told him to go ahead and “swing by.”

  He parked the taxi across the street from the Roost. The snow had started again this late afternoon, and the wind had picked up; it was coming down more heavily now, with bigger flakes.

  “Do ye want tae try tae talk with her?” he asked as he had a sip from the takeaway coffee cup Vanessa had handed him as we headed out. She always made sure Elias had extra coffee.

  “I don’t know yet. Could we just sit here a minute?”

  “Aye.”

  We watched students coming and going. When we’d visited that morning, there hadn’t been nearly as much foot traffic. I was intrigued by the students’ fashion priorities of comfort and warmth, which was the same as it had been for me when I’d been in college. I smiled at the memory of my time at the University of Kansas. I’d loved school, loved studying, loved research. There had been a time when I wondered if maybe I would be a student or work in a university setting all my life. I was glad for the way things had turned out, but being on a college campus forever didn’t sound like a bad duty.

  “I think that’s her.” Elias gestured with his coffee cup.

  It took me only a second to spot the tall person amid the other average-size people walking toward the Roost. The snow and some fog on the inside of the windshield distorted my view. I cleared a spot and watched Darcy walk toward the building.

  Not only was she in an older coat, but her head was covered in a scarf too, one ragged at the edges. She didn’t look destitute, more like a student who’d purchased the coat in a thrift shop. Her style didn’t stand out as starkly different from that of the other students around her. Her height did, but not her garb.

  I had no sense that this was the same person I’d seen in the parking spot or in Grassmarket. Darcy was tall, yes, but she was thin, with narrow shoulders. There was nothing masculine about her, which I’d been certain the Monster was.

  “Lass?” Elias asked.

  “I don’t think that’s who I’ve seen,” I said.

  “’Tis good news, I think.”

  “I think so too. I’m relieved.”

  I wasn’t sure that who I’d seen was the same person who’d been committing the crimes—I wished I’d paid more attention that night by Tom’s car. “I don’t think it looks like the person on television either. Do you?”

  “I dinnae think so.”

  As Darcy approached the Roost, her head down against the wind, someone coming from the other direction stopped her. There was no doubt in my mind that the person was a man. He wasn’t dressed in an old coat, though. His coat was newer and sleeker, but since his back was to us and since he was mostly covered by his clothes, including a hat—the snow messed up our vision—I couldn’t make out what he looked like.

  “I wonder who she’s talking to,” I said.

  “Doesnae look familiar.” Elias had cleared away a spot on his side of the windshield too and deposited his coffee in a cup holder.

  They stood outside the Roost as students filed in and out the doors. From our distance and angle, it remained impossible to see the man’s face, but I could tell that Darcy seemed to be listening intently to him–he was the one doing most of the talking.

  I kept trying to see better, but it wasn’t possible. After another few moments, Darcy and the man hugged. Their embrace lasted a beat too long for simple friendship, or so I thought. Again, Hamlet’s love life was the least of my worries, but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret that Darcy might be in a relationship.

  They released the hug and the man turned just as a bus stopped in front of the Roost. We couldn’t tell if he boarded, but once the bus was out of our line of vision, we could see Darcy waving at it.

  “A boyfriend,” I said.

  “Aye,” Elias said doubtfully.

  “What?”

  “I dinnae ken the lass, but it didn’t seem like that. Perhaps a friend.”

  “It’s good to see someone’s there for her.”

  “Aye.”

  A moment later Darcy went into the Roost.

  “She’s not the Monster,” I said. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “I agree,” Elias said. “Pleased we looked?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  I was pleased, but as Elias drove me back to the bookshop, I pondered whether or not to tell Hamlet what we’d seen, and if, in fact, we’d seen anything at all. I felt myself looking for answers in every corner.

  At least I was one hundred percent sure Darcy wasn’t the Monster. Okay, maybe only ninety-nine.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  It was just Tom and me. I’d never seen the streets of Edinburgh so quiet. It wasn’t because of the weather—it was cold out, but the snow had stopped. It was the Monster. The streets of my new city, the city of my heart, were unusually quiet because of the New Monster.

  I hadn’t paid much attention to the news today, but apparently it had been filled with authorities cautioning citizens to be careful, be aware. Shelagh O’Conner still hadn’t been found; each time she was mentioned, the potential outcome only sounded more dire.

  There were discussions of setting a curfew, requiring everyone to be off the streets by seven in the evening. No one wanted that, but from what I could see, not many people wanted to be out either. Whatever was safest was probably the best, but none of this was good.

  And I couldn’t help but think I knew something that could assist the police in solving all these mysteries. I couldn’t decide if I’d been in the orbit of everything or if everything that had happened had nudged itself into my orbit. Either way, I couldn’t let go of the sense that I must have missed something, that the events and I were somehow tied together.

  Tom’s pub was quiet enough that he could take the night off again; the few customers in the place were in Rodger’s capable hands.

  I’d picked my husband up and asked him if he wanted to go for a walk before we went home, just to show the man (or whoever it was) under the monster costume that we weren’t afraid, as well as to pay a visit to someone. Tom had agreed—I probably wouldn’t have braved the dark streets by myself if he hadn’t.

  We walked up Victoria Street toward the Royal Mile, hoping to find the typical crowd there. As we reached the top of the steep road, I was pleased and relieved to see more foot traffic—not as much as normal, but more than in Grassmarket. Although this was the hot tourist spot, it was more than
that. It was a thoroughfare, a place brimming with history, an important road for everyone who lived in Edinburgh as well as those who visited.

  We strolled downhill toward the sea and Inspector Winters’s police station. I wanted to talk to him one more time today, just in case there really was something I knew that could help the police solve the crimes, find Shelagh.

  “You think it’s something to do with the horses?” Tom asked as we passed in front of the building housing the office that handled the city’s business licensing. I’d visited the office a few times recently and currently wondered about the people inside. I hoped all was well with them as Tom and I continued on.

  “It’s a possibility. I thought about trying to find Findlay and Winston’s flat to talk to them, but that felt like stepping way out of my bounds.”

  “Aye.”

  A high-pitched voice came from the open door of a gift shop we were walking by. “Look! A monster!”

  Tom and I zipped to alert. What was happening? We hurried to the door.

  A woman and a little girl, who must have been about seven, were looking at a circular display of key rings dangling on hooks: tartan designs, bagpipes, even swords and dirks. But the little girl had zoned in on one key ring in particular. The charm was in the shape of a hunchbacked man wrapped in an old brown coat.

  I went inside, excused myself around the mother and child, and grabbed one. “How in the world did they get this put together so quickly?”

  Tom shrugged. “Probably had the charm for something else and just made it work.”

  “How about that,” a man said as he came from the back of the store. “Our very own monster.”

  Normally I liked the touristy parts of Edinburgh. I liked the small pocket-size souvenir shops. But this sort of marketing left a bad taste in my mouth. I rehung the key ring and nodded at that shopkeeper before Tom and I left the shop. Maybe if I weren’t so close to everything that had happened, maybe if I’d never met Shelagh, I’d have distance enough to find it all intriguing.

  “The key ring was in poor taste, lass. I’m sorry it bothered you,” Tom said.