Eve Lloyd’s A Deadline Cozy Mystery Box Set 2

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Eve Lloyd’s A Deadline Cozy Mystery Box Set 2 Page 30

by Sonia Parin


  Before Eve could answer, her cell rang. “This must be serious. Jack’s calling instead of texting. Can you answer it, Jill?”

  “Hello. You’ve reached Eve Lloyd’s cell. Please state your business.” Jill hummed a tune. “Jack? Jack who? Oh, Detective Jack Bradford. You wish to speak with Eve? Well, I’m afraid she’s busy at the moment and can’t take your call.” Jill gasped. “That’s quite a temper you have, detective.” Jill pressed the cell against her chest. “He says you should get your butt over to the inn and stay there until he says it’s okay for you to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “Eve wishes to know if she’s under house arrest.” Jill turned to Eve, her lips forming a perfect O. “He says the revolver you gave him this morning doesn’t belong to Martha Payne.”

  “Who’s is it?”

  “It’s registered to Julia Maeve. She had her own means of self-defense.”

  Eve tightened her hold on the steering wheel. “So... Where’s Martha Payne’s revolver?”

  “Someone else must have taken it. It’s quite possible they’ll use it to frame Martha.”

  “Did Jack say that?” Eve asked.

  Jill grinned. “No, that’s my very own conjecture, but a sound one, if I do say so myself.”

  “Tell Jack...” Eve bit the edge of her lip, “Tell him, I told him so. He should have frisked them all while he had the chance.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Sorry it took so long to get back,” Eve said as she set the box of magazines down in the living room. “While you get started with these, I’ll put together some lunch.”

  Mira rubbed her hands and smiled. “Fabulous. Jordan and I need something to take our minds off my current book. Taking a break makes me more eager to get back to work.”

  Eve smiled in agreement although she never quite understood what her aunt meant when she made those sort of remarks. As a chef, she couldn’t imagine walking away from something she was in the middle of cooking...

  Jill followed her to the kitchen. “You’re not going to mention the revolver?”

  “There’s no need to worry Mira. Besides, we’re not the targets.”

  “Do you think the killer will strike again?”

  “It’s not so much what I think, it’s how the guests acted.” Suspiciously, Eve thought. “We now know two of them were armed. Why?” Eve inspected her pantry and wondered how much effort she wanted to put into cooking. From experience, she knew Mira would be happy to settle for a sandwich and, if Eve pushed her, some potato salad. “How about some smoked salmon sandwiches?” Eve swung away from the pantry and headed for the refrigerator. “Or a quiche.” She had all the necessary ingredients and making pastry always helped her to relax. “Yes, a quiche. Spinach. Mushroom and smoked salmon.” She smacked her lips. “The local butcher smokes his own salmon. I’ve never tasted anything better.” She brought out the ingredients for the pastry and noticed Jill paying close attention as she tipped some flour into a bowl.

  “You’re not measuring.”

  Eve smiled. “I’m using my years of experience scale. It’s infallible. Why are you frowning?”

  Jill dug around the cupboards and brought out a scale. “How much flour do you think you put in there.”

  “Two hundred grams.”

  Eve stood back as Jill weighed the flour.

  “Well, whaddaya know. It’s exactly two hundred grams.”

  “I told you. While the recipe requires that amount, I might not end up using it all because flour tends to change from packet to packet. So I have to play it by ear, or rather, by touch. Once I start working the mixture, I’ll know if it needs more, or less flour.”

  “Okay, I’m done questioning your judgment. Can I help with anything?”

  “You could wash some lettuce for the salad.”

  Moments later, Jill asked, “Why are you putting the pastry in the refrigerator? It’s going into the oven. What’s the point of keeping it cool.”

  “The pastry has to rest.” She tipped some nuts into a bowl to munch on. “Let’s go see if Mira’s found something useful.” Hearing the scrunch of tires on the driveway, she steered them toward the front door, “That must be Abby. I was starting to worry about her.”

  Not Abby...

  Eve didn’t bother hiding her surprise. “Hello, Elizabeth.”

  William’s personal assistant lifted her chin slightly. “I need to impose on you one more time. One of the guests lost her earrings. Would you mind if I take a look around? She says she removed them in her room.”

  Eve drew in a calming breath.

  Jill pressed against her and whispered, “Frisk her first.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Yeah, you heard me right. If you want to come in,” Jill said, “I’ll have to frisk you first.”

  When Elizabeth took a step back, Eve braced herself. Would she make a run for it?

  Her shoulders rose and fell. “Fine. I need to find those earrings.”

  “Spread your arms out,” Jill said. “Hand over your handbag first. Eve will look through it.”

  As Jill frisked Elizabeth Rogue, Eve glimpsed inside her handbag. It felt too light to carry a revolver so she handed it back and offered a light apology. “Sorry, you understand we’ve been through enough already.”

  Elizabeth surprised her by offering a small smile. “I’ll be as quick as I can be.”

  “We should go with her,” Jill suggested.

  Eve tugged her along. “She’s not carrying a weapon and she’s as happy to be here as I am to see her here. Not...” Just as she was about to close the front door, Abby pulled up.

  “Sorry, I swung by the bookstore and grabbed some more boxes.”

  “Better out than in?” Jill asked, “As in, better here than clogging up the storeroom in the bookstore you hope to regain possession of?”

  Abby grinned. “Would I be so devious?”

  “No, that’s what makes it perfect.” Jill smiled. “Now that I think about it, you’d make an ideal killer, flying under the radar because you’re just not the type to commit murder. We’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

  They all headed for the living room where they found Mira and Jordan taking notes.

  “We’ve identified everyone on the photos,” Mira said. “That leaves one person with a question mark.”

  “Who?”

  “This one.” Mira pointed to a woman. She appeared in one group photo standing on the edge and almost looking out of place. In another photo, she hovered in the background. “These photos were taken in Manhattan. William has his arm around her on one. The caption identifies her as his girlfriend.”

  Eve nibbled on a nut. “You sound dubious.”

  “Well, you’d think she would feature in the Rhode Island pictures, but she doesn’t. He must have dumped her.”

  “Is she someone prominent?” Jill asked.

  Mira shook her head. “I’ve been going through these magazines and seen the others in the society pages, but not her.”

  Eve drew in a steadying breath. “What if... What if something happened to her?” She looked at Jill. “What was the name of that movie you mentioned earlier?”

  “I know what you did last summer.” Jill shivered. “I think you’re onto something.”

  Jordan sat back and gazed out the window.

  They all looked at him.

  Jill asked, “Is that his thinking face?”

  Smiling, he straightened. “I seem to recall one of my authors discussing a case. He’s a crime writer. I’ll ask him.” Jordan got his cell phone out and sent a text message. “I have a vague recollection of a society murder case that remained unsolved.”

  Eve sat forward. The room burst with excitement. Everyone talked at once but with no names to connect to the unsolved crime, they eventually calmed down.

  After a moment of quiet, Eve asked, “Drinks, anyone?”

  Mira checked her watch. “It’s not quite midday.”

  �
�And your point is?” Eve laughed.

  “Well, it’s not the thing to drink before midday.”

  “That depends on where you are,” Jordan said. “If you’re in Denmark, it’s quite appropriate to drink Gammel Dansk. In fact, the bottle reads, enjoyable in the morning, after a day’s work, when hunting or fishing, or as an aperitif. In Germany, it’s traditional to have a beer and sausage before midday on Sundays and holidays. In Britain, alcohol etiquette is overturned on Christmas morning when it’s considered appropriate to have that first glass of champagne while presents are being opened.”

  Eve looked at Mira. “We could start our own tradition making an exception because we’re trying to find a killer. Bloody Marys would be too obvious.”

  “In that case,” Mira smiled, “I vote for Martinis. It’s a classic and the drink of choice for sleuthing.”

  “I don’t think agent 007 is a sleuth,” Eve remarked as she dug out some glasses. When she set a tray on the coffee table, Abby hooted with excitement.

  “The box I brought has some of the issues preceding the ones we’ve been looking at and there are more photos of William and the mystery woman.”

  “Mystery woman or not important enough to be named?” Jill asked. “Everyone else is identified by name. Why isn’t she?”

  Because she didn’t really belong to William’s social set, Eve thought. She turned to Jordan, and asked, “Have you heard from your author friend?”

  “Not yet. He’s in the middle of a book so he might not surface for hours.”

  “Keep looking, people. The dots are there. We only have to join them. I’m going to finish making the quiche.”

  She set the oven to preheat and then rolled out the pastry and placed it in a tart pan. As she didn’t want the flavors to overpower the salmon, she only sliced half an onion and a handful of mushrooms, which she cooked in a skillet.

  With the eggs whisked, she added the heavy cream and continued whisking until it was light and fluffy. Abby joined her just as she was adding the salt and pepper.

  “There’s something different about you. I noticed it last night. When you get in your kitchen, you transform yourself.”

  “In a good or a bad way?” Eve asked.

  “Oh, definitely in a good way.”

  Eve smiled. “It’s my comfort zone. I know exactly what will happen here. Maybe that makes me a control freak.”

  “Absolutely not. We all need some sort stability in our lives, something we can easily relate to without having to think too much.”

  “Let me guess, the bookstore is your comfort zone.”

  Abby sighed. “I’m lost without it. When you first came to the island you said you could afford to have some thinking time. I’m over it now and quite bored. I guess I’d fail at being a lady of leisure.”

  Eve shrugged. “It’s the way we’re conditioned. I’ve been working from a young age and can’t imagine ever giving it up. I know Mira will continue writing until she draws her last breath.”

  Eve tossed the smoked salmon into the egg mixture, added some shredded cheese and after making sure it was all combined, she pricked the tart shell and poured the mixture into in. She put it in the oven and checked the time. “All done.” She made quick work of clearing up the kitchen and putting things away. Everything in its place and a place for everything... Eve frowned.

  “What?”

  “I just had a thought.” Digging out her cell from her handbag, she called the bookstore. When Samantha answered, she asked, “Which shelf did Elizabeth Rogue get the books from?” Nodding, she thanked her and disconnected the call.

  “What was that about?” Abby asked.

  “Comfort zone.” She gestured for Abby to follow her back to the living room. “Mira, when you want to buy a new book, where do you head for in the store?”

  “It depends on what I feel like reading,” Mira said.

  “So you know where the historical romances are shelved.”

  Mira nodded.

  “But you sometimes enjoy reading other fiction. And they’re usually shelved in their own sections.”

  “What are you getting at Eve?” Mira asked.

  “When I want something in my favorite grocery store I know exactly where to find it. But if I’m in an unfamiliar store, I have to search. What if I don’t care what I want? I only want to buy something. Where would I go?”

  “The nearest shelf to you,” Jill said.

  “Exactly. So, we know Elizabeth grabbed a selection of books without even looking at the titles. She didn’t care what she was getting. Why then did she go to the back shelves closest to the door leading to the storeroom?”

  They all stared at her.

  “How do you know she did that?” Mira asked.

  “I just called Samantha.”

  “But what made you think to ask?”

  “Elizabeth’s behavior struck me as odd,” Eve said. “Anyhow, if she just wanted to grab some books, pay for them and get out of the store, she would have gone straight for the closest shelves.”

  Jill huffed out a breath. “I feel I dropped the ball. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You would have, eventually,” Eve assured her.

  “Do you think she saw you go into the store and followed you in?” Abby asked.

  Eve nodded. “I’m sure of it. And then she tried to eavesdrop on our conversation.”

  “What do you think prompted her curiosity?” Mira asked.

  Eve exchanged a sheepish look with Jill. “Who knows?”

  Jill laughed. “Eve drove right into the Hunter estate waving a red flag. I guess it worked. She must think we’re onto something.”

  “It doesn’t mean she’s the killer,” Mira offered. “She might be doing legwork for the others.”

  “That would be taking her personal assistant duties to the extreme. We’re talking about colluding with a killer.” Eve picked up one of the magazines. Could there be a connection between Elizabeth Rogue and whatever happened all those years ago? She gave a slow shake of her head. What if Elizabeth had only been curious to hear their conversation? With everything that had been going on, she might have wanted to be kept in the loop.

  “Please don’t do that,” Jill said. “If you have a theory, we want to hear it.”

  “How old do you think she is?” Eve asked.

  “I’m guessing late twenties and doing very well for her age. I’ve met her type.” Jill rolled her eyes. “Super-efficient.”

  Abby leaned forward. “Eve, you didn’t actually tell us what you were thinking.”

  “Liz Logan suggested everyone in the group had reason to want Stew dead. We know the entire box of cigars was contaminated.” And Jack would get an earful from her for withholding information. She still didn’t know which poison was used. “What if someone wants everyone in the group dead? Someone driven by revenge.”

  “Revenge for what?” Mira asked, her tone intrigued.

  For whatever happened all those years ago, Eve thought.

  “You’re doing it again. Think out loud,” Jill insisted.

  Eve jumped to her feet and strode around the living room. Swinging back, she picked up one of the magazines.

  “What are you looking at?” Jill demanded. “I’m about to get snarky with you.”

  “The woman.”

  Jill sprung to her feet. “What about her?”

  “I don’t know,” Eve’s voice hitched. She wanted to say there could be a connection between the woman and Elizabeth Rogue, but it sounded too far-fetched. “I have to check on my quiche.” Distracted by the thoughts whirling around her mind, Eve strode into the kitchen, her gaze lowered. When she looked up, she tried to yelp but her throat constricted.

  It’s just a revolver, Eve. You’ve had one pointed at you before. Don’t freeze now.

  She couldn’t believe she’d actually opened the door to the killer.

  “Don’t make a sound,” Elizabeth Rogue whispered and signaled with her revolver toward the back door.


  A good sign, Eve thought. She only wanted her and not the others. Once they were outside, Eve could try to...

  What?

  Be a hero?

  She’d find some way to disarm her and if she made enough noise, it might alert the others. They’d be quick to take action. The plan unfolded in her mind, leaving no room for doubt. She could do it.

  Eve raised her hands signaling her surrender and willingness to follow instructions, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to move. Her legs simply refused to obey.

  “Eve, I think I have a theory you might like,” Mira said from the living room.

  Eve saw Elizabeth step back. The gun remained pointed at Eve who prayed Mira wouldn’t come into the kitchen.

  “Did you hear me?” Mira called out.

  “Yes, I’ll... I’ll be there in a minute.” Biting the edge of her lip, Eve nudged her head toward the door.

  Yes, by all means, let’s do this. Right now before anyone got hurt.

  “I think you’ll like this.” Mira’s voice drew closer.

  No, Eve mentally shouted for Mira to stay in the living room.

  “What if Elizabeth Rogue can be connected to the mystery woman? The idea is so wild, it’s right up your alley and I think you’ll love it. I’m thinking William was somehow responsible for the woman’s death. I know we should wait to hear from Jordan’s author friend about that unsolved murder case, but I’ve caught your bug and I’m happy to let my imagination run wild. Here’s something else you’ll like. Wouldn’t it be just perfect if Elizabeth turned out to be William’s daughter seeking her revenge? I should take note and include this in one of my books. Anyhow, seeking her revenge for... let me think, her mother being scorned. What do you think of that idea?”

  “It sounds good,” Eve called out. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Mira came around the corner and smiled.

  Eve tried to warn Mira with her eyes but she’d already caught sight of Elizabeth. More precisely, Elizabeth’s revolver.

  “What on earth is going on here?” Mira asked, her tone more intrigued than surprised or even scared.

 

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