by Tessa Kelly
I searched the room, walking the perimeter and inspecting the walls inch by inch. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Could I have been mistaken in my conjecture?
Or, maybe, what I was looking for wasn’t in the study at all.
Going out into the hallway again, I headed into the bathroom, but a thorough inspection of it revealed nothing out of the ordinary.
The only other place I could think of was the walk-in closet.
Lit by a single light bulb, it was much roomier than it had looked on the outside. I pushed aside the clothes on the hanging rack and felt the walls with my fingers. My breath hitched.
The seam in the wall was so thin, a regular person would never spot it there unless he knew to look for it. As I applied pressure to it, the seam widened, then swung open.
A secret doorway!
I clapped my hands to my mouth and bit my lower lip to keep from squealing. I suspected there was a secret passage in Sonny's house, but now it was actually in front of me. I'd found it!
Peering inside, I saw a steep stairway going down into darkness. I lit the flashlight on my phone. Though I was certain of where the stairs led, I still needed to make sure. I started forward with caution. Down on the first floor, there was a sound of the front door opening and closing.
My blood froze. Only one person lived in this house now, and she was obviously back early from her shopping.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. The step I’d remembered gave a soft creak. I couldn't stay there and hope Lauren didn't open the closet door. I had to act.
Trying to be as quiet as I could, I slipped into the secret passage and closed the door behind me. I wasn’t as quiet as I hoped, because Lauren’s voice suddenly rang out outside the closet.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Trailing the wall on both sides with my fingers, I hurtled down the stairs in the dark. At least, it wasn’t a long descent. At the bottom, I came face to face with the brick wall. Pressing it yielded the desired results. It opened outward, letting me out of the passage and into the dim space of Luce della Vita’s wine cellar.
My breathing ragged, I pulled the door closed, revealing the light scratches on the floor I’d noticed on the night of the murder. The scratches made by the frequent opening and closing of the door.
I sprinted across the cellar toward the stairs, making sure to give a wide berth to the spot where Sonny’s body had laid the night of the wedding party. The police had taken off the tape outline, but there was no erasing from my mind where it had been.
I ran up the stairs into the restaurant’s empty dining room and hurried across it to the bar. Liam was still the only person there, busy checking off the liquor supply. As his back was turned, he didn’t see me slip out past him.
Out on the sunlit street again, I hid behind the corner of Luce della Vita. My heart raced and my hands were damp with sweat, but I touched my fingers to the marble pendant under my shirt. Thanks, friend.
Then I waited.
Would Lauren come out to look for whoever had broken in? Seconds passed, but all remained quiet. By now, though, she would have realized the full meaning of what had happened. Behind the closed doors, was she pacing frantically around the sitting room and wondering what to do next? In her panic, was she priming herself for a false move?
I took out my phone and scrolled down for Will’s number. I’d found the proof I had been hoping for, now it was time to tell my brother everything.
The call went straight to voicemail. Drat.
“Will, it’s me,” I said. “Call me back as soon as you can, I’ve got to tell you something important. It’s about the case.”
I put away the phone, making an effort to think calmly. The best thing to do for now was to act like nothing was out of the ordinary. First, I’d have a quick lunch at home, then head over to Dad’s shop and get an early start on my shift.
Turning, I walked back up the street from where I came. The active part of the investigation was over for me. All I could do now was wait.
Chapter 15
“The first page has a noticeable tear at the top!”
The customer's eyes shot lightning at me as he brandished the book in my face. “I've been buying used books for years, and three dollars for this is an outrage. It shouldn't cost more than ninety-nine cents.”
I held back a groan. Why did the difficult ones have to come in five minutes before closing time? It was a quarter after eight, but the man had ignored all my hints at wanting to close the register. Pulling together my reserves of patience, I took the copy of The Hobbit and examined it in the lamplight. The left corner of the front page was slightly bent, but that was the extent of the damage.
“I don’t see any tears here. Besides, this is a hardcover. A new copy of this book would cost you ten dollars or more, so either way, you’re getting a deal.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?” He fixed me with a contemptuous glare. “Where’s the owner? I want to have a word with him.”
“He’s not here today. But if he were, he’d tell you the same thing I am. The hardcover is three dollars.”
He stared at the book, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. Then he slammed three dollar bills on the counter. “I’m going to complain about this. It's no way to treat a loyal customer. And don't forget, you're not the only used bookstore in town. Next time, I might just take my business elsewhere.”
The bell over the book shop’s front door jingled as he slammed the door on his way out. I sighed. I was finally alone.
Dad was still at his darts tournament, and Marlowe had gone with him. Most pubs didn’t allow dogs, but Marlowe was everyone’s favorite. The regulars were probably stuffing him with bits of sausage and Shepherd's pie at that very moment.
I yawned. It had been a long day, but before I could think of a good night’s sleep, there was still more work to be done.
I flipped the sign on the front door from OPEN to CLOSED and armed myself with a stack of paperbacks from the floor by the register. Walking slowly down the aisle, I sorted the books into their appropriate places on the shelves. There were still two books left in my hands when the doorbell chinked again. I frowned. Another customer at this time?
“Hello?” I called.
There was no answer.
I edged around the bookshelves into the next aisle. Lauren stood at the other end of it. She wore dark pants and kept her hand in the pocket of her long tan jacket. My eyes flicked to the peach chiffon scarf in her other hand, hanging limp at her side. No prize guessing where she’d found it.
We faced each other in silence across the dim aisle. Lauren's face was pale and drawn. She stood very still, although her nostrils repeatedly flared.
I decided my best bet was to start by being casual. Taking a deep breath, I cleared my throat. “Hi, Lauren. Did you want something? If you came to see Dad, he’s not here tonight.”
She didn’t return my greeting. “I know Nicolas isn’t here. I came to see you.” She lifted my scarf up to eye level. “Is this yours?”
There was no point denying it, and it was time to have the truth out. I swallowed, my heart hammering in my chest. “I snuck into your house this morning and found Sonny’s secret stairway. I know you used it to murder him.”
A slight tremor passed through her, but she immediately regained her composure. “What possible reason could I have to kill my own husband?”
“Of everyone involved,” I said, “you had the most reason to do it.”
“What reason?” She raised her eyebrows at me.
“Money, of course. Right now, the police think Angela killed Sonny, but that’s not what happened.”
“Of course it is. If it wasn’t your father, then it must’ve been Angela. She needed the money.”
“Yes, she was having financial problems and was scared David would find out. She needed the money fast, to pay off her debts, and that would’ve been a good motive for murder. Except, Sonny had promised to help her out. So that makes it n
o motive at all.”
Lauren shook her head. “I already told the police Sonny never promised Angela any such thing. She was marrying David, and wasn’t Sonny’s problem anymore. Why would he help out another man’s wife?”
“Because he still cared about her,” I said. “And because he was dying. He was a devoted father and would’ve wanted his daughter’s mother to be okay after he was gone.”
“No.” Lauren’s voice rose a fraction. “This is stupid, you’re just guessing now. You don’t know what Sonny wanted.”
“I was at the wedding,” I insisted. “Angela’s behavior that night is proof enough. She wasn’t acting like someone overburdened with problems. Just the opposite. She was happy and excited like she didn’t have a care in the world.”
“She could’ve been faking it. That proves nothing.”
Ignoring her, I went on. “I also think the reason Sonny made that call to his lawyer was to leave Kim more money than he had intended to in the first will. It’s possible that, with the changes he was planning, you were going to be left a pittance. Maybe you'd found out you would have to give up the house. You'd probably have enough money to live on, but not in the same comfort you’ve grown used to. Either way, you had to stop Sonny from making that second will.”
Lauren stared at me without saying a word, but her mouth tightened, and her left eye twitched. I did my best to steady my breathing as I kept talking. I had to hold my line, everything depended on it.
“You were angry," I said. "I can understand that. No matter how hard you worked on your marriage, no matter how much you tried to win Sonny’s love, in his eyes, you would always be second best. Isn’t that true? Sonny’s devotion was first and foremost to Kim and Angela. They were his real family, not you.”
“You're wrong!” Lauren's voice rang loud for the first time. “Sonny loved me! We had a good marriage.”
“I'm not saying he didn't love you, in his own way. But I suspect that, in the back of your mind, you were waiting to be tossed aside one day. And then, you overhear Sonny on the phone with his lawyer and find out he is going to change his will, leaving Kim most of his money. That was the final blow. You snapped. You decided you would kill Sonny before he could put his plan into action. But you needed someone to take the blame. Then my father threw a fit and ended up in the ER the night Sonny outbid him for the first edition of The Long Goodbye. That gave you an idea. You knew Dad had a gun. While he was in the hospital, you came here. You picked a moment when Josh was busy with a customer and snuck upstairs. It wouldn’t have taken more than a minute to get into Dad’s office and find the gun in the desk’s top drawer. All you had to do after that was to arrange for Dad to have another public fight with Sonny. You pretended to be John Edwards’s secretary emailing to order the first edition of The Big Sleep, knowing Dad would fly into a rage if Sonny outbid him again.”
“And how was I supposed to convince Sonny I was this secretary?” Lauren asked with a slight sneer.
“It would’ve been easy,” I said. “When I was on the train this morning, I did a quick search on my phone, and there are articles on the internet that teach you how to spam, or spoof, an email address. I’m sure, once the police look into this, they’ll verify I’m right. So, when Dad showed up at the wedding reception, you saw your opportunity. You knew about Sonny’s secret passage. He’d been using it to keep tabs on his business partners, sneaking in and out without being observed. Complaining of a headache, you left the party with Valeria, so that she’d be your alibi. While she was watching a movie downstairs, thinking you were asleep in your bedroom, you snuck through the passage down into the cellar and shot Sonny.”
Lauren’s eyes were too wide now. Unnerving. I wished she would blink. “That’s a nice theory,” she said. “But you’re forgetting about timing. How was I supposed to know Sonny would be in the cellar, and that he’d be alone?”
“The same way Sonny knew when the cellar was empty. That little TV in his office is a monitor, connected wirelessly to a hidden camera in the cellar, which I’m sure you removed after you shot Sonny.”
“Again, it’s nothing but guesses,” Lauren said. “None of this is true. You don’t have any proof.”
“No, Lauren. You gave me all the proof the night of the murder,” I said. “I just didn’t realize it at the time. But going back over that night, it became clear.”
Looking at her, I was stunned. I hadn't known her face could get any paler.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered.
“The police were taking Dad away, and I said he didn’t do it, that it was all a mistake. You turned to me, and you said, ‘How can it be a mistake? You were the one who found him with the gun in his hand.’”
“So?”
“So how could you know that it was me who found him? You got to the scene after everyone else did.”
“The detectives must’ve told me.” She swallowed visibly.
“No, Lauren. The detectives didn't tell you anything. That’s not how it works. You knew it because you’d been watching the cellar on the monitor upstairs. And you realized your mistake as soon as you said it. That’s why you faked a faint, to confuse us and take our attention away from your blunder.”
“What about Dora?” Lauren asked. “Was I supposed to have killed her too?”
“Yes. You believed yourself safe, except for one thing. Someone had seen you sneak into Dad’s office. Dora. At the time, she must’ve misconstrued the whole thing, suspecting you and Dad of having an affair. That's why she was acting so reserved towards him. She didn’t realize the meaning of what she’d seen until later when she heard us talking at the bakery the night Dad got out on bail. Then she knew Dad wasn’t home the evening you came over, and she guessed what you were really doing there. It’s what she was coming to tell me that evening, but you stopped her. You had to.”
I watched her, but Lauren’s face was like a sphinx now. I licked my lips. My mouth was parched.
“I heard the first murder is the hard one,” I said. “After that, it gets easier. Is that true?”
Lauren's eyebrow twitched and she looked down for a moment, then her eyes met mine again, and there was a new expression in them as if she’d come to a decision. I held my breath. Was she going to confess?
Her lips trembled. “It’s more like you realize you’ve got no other choice anymore,” she said quietly. “Once you’ve set it in motion, it’s like you’ve thrown yourself into the rapids. You’re just trying to keep your head above the water and not crack it on any stones.”
Slowly, she lifted her hand to her face and wiped her eyes, letting my scarf float down to the floor. “I didn’t want to kill Dora. I liked her. But I had to do it. She was going to ruin everything.”
When I didn’t say anything, she added, “I don’t want to kill you either, Sandie. If only you hadn’t meddled in this...”
Her left hand came out of her pocket holding a gun. A small one, a newer model than Dad's.
I stared at it. Did Sonny experience the same emotions the night he stood in the Luce della Vita cellar, facing Lauren with the gun? Did he feel the last moments of his life more keenly, because he knew they were his last? Or did everything simply become a blur of terror?
Heart in my throat, I backed away as my hand closed around the marble pendant at my neck. Please, don’t let me down!
“How did you know?” Lauren asked. “About the passage. Sonny had been very careful. He'd made sure no one would know about it. Even Angela had no idea. I found out by accident.”
“It was something Dad said the other night,” I said. “About dreams and secret passages. I was stuck until then. Everything was pointing to you, but I couldn’t figure out how you’d done it. Then I remembered Alex Sorrento complaining about Sonny creeping him out, knowing things he shouldn’t. It all clicked.”
Lauren sighed. “I wish it hadn’t.” She took a step closer to me and lifted the gun higher, taking aim. “I’m sorry, Sandie.”
Before I could protest, the door to upstairs flew open behind me, and Will and Detective Greene stepped into the shop, their guns trained at Lauren.
“Lay down your weapon and put your hands above your head!” Greene yelled.
Behind Lauren, Detective Carver and two other cops stormed in through the front door. Lauren’s lips trembled. She stood frozen, then slowly bent her knees and put the gun on the floor.
Carver approached her from behind and cuffed her hands. “Lauren Klein, you are under arrest for the murder of Sonny Klein and Dora Novak.”
They led her out of the shop. My ears vaguely registered the Miranda rights being recited to her on the way to the squad car, but it was all in a haze. I slumped against the wall as if a coat hanger had suddenly been yanked out of my back.
Will came over to me and lifted me up again. “It’s over, sis. Well done.”
“You took your time,” I croaked. “For a moment there, I thought she’d beat you to it and actually shoot me.”
“Come on!” He laughed. “Have some faith in me. I wasn't going to let anything happen to you.”
“Did you get the confession?” I asked, running my fingers over the wire the cops had attached under my shirt.
He nodded. “It's all good. I mean, I don't condone that whole breaking and entering stunt you pulled. That was dangerous. But you did the right thing calling me this afternoon.”
I was still having a hard time breathing. “I’ve just never had to stare down the barrel of a gun before.”
Will gave me a one-arm hug. “You’ve done some first-class detecting there. Cap will be impressed.” He tugged me toward the exit. “Let's go.”
I gave him a wary look. “Where are we going? Better not be to the precinct. I’ve had enough of police stuff for one day.”
“Duly noted.” He chuckled. “We’ve done our part, they don’t need us for the rest of it. Besides, you shouldn’t be alone tonight. I’ll text Felisha to come and get you.”
“She’s still at the bakery,” I protested.
“It’s fine. Sure Kathy will let her go once I tell her why.”
