SLAY PAIRS WITH ROSE (The Kelly's Deli Cozy Murder Mysteries Book 3)

by Sophie Brent

  One of the many habits she had inherited from her mother was that she loved to listen to the radio as she worked in the kitchen. The classical stations and local light entertainment channels seemed to make the hours fly by.

  It would be even better if they didn’t read the local news every thirty minutes.

  Most of Kingsmede had already heard about what had happened at Abbotsdown Hall in one way or other, and if they hadn’t, then they soon would.

  The juicy story of the bridesmaid who had died in a bizarre accident at a local hotel was all over the local radio and TV stations. Erin had no idea how they managed to get hold of the fact that she had been there when they found Emma, but suddenly, Kelly’s deli was once again the centre of the latest crime wave in Kingsmede. The telephone calls from the press and media had carried on all evening until Erin had turned off both the phone in the deli and her mobile.

  The reporters banging on the deli door had certainly not helped!

  One thing was certain. She had no intention of making any statement to anyone about what she had seen. The scene was still whirling around inside her head as she tossed and turned on her pillow.

  After hearing the fourth radio bulletin where they had mentioned her by name, Erin turned off the radio and came to a decision.

  She needed to get as far away from the deli as she could, as soon as possible.

  Otherwise, there was a very strong chance that she would say something to a reporter that she would later regret.

  Where should she go? She knew that her friends would be happy for her to stay with them, but for once, it would be nice to have some peace and quiet, even if it was only for one day.

  Her gaze scanned the kitchen wall and fell onto a postcard she had received the previous week. Of course! That would be the perfect place. Her godmother, Rosa, was still on holiday in Italy with Matt’s uncle Lucien, and Erin had promised to pop in and check Rosa’s cottage from time to time to make sure that everything was okay.

  The cottage would be the ideal hideaway! All she had to do was load up with supplies and she could spend the whole day in the cottage garden battling against the army of weeds and greenfly, instead of cameras and annoying reporters who were just doing their job.

  Opening the refrigerator, the first thing she saw was the boxes of fondant icing that she had so lovingly prepared only a few days ago. Her first impulse was to throw all of the fondant icing straight into the waste bin. Removing the evidence that she had worked on that stunning wedding cake and anything that came with it.

  But just as she opened the boxes, she thought about Fiona and Ethan. With so many guests and visitors, Fiona’s mother might appreciate having something to give them to eat.

  In an instant, Erin pulled out eggs, butter, and milk, and enough lemons to make at least twenty lemon drizzle cupcakes. It wouldn’t take long to deliver them to the Hanson house on the way to Rosa’s cottage. At least she would be doing something practical to help, instead of scrubbing her kitchen floor and re-organizing the freezer.

  Forty minutes later, Erin had just pulled the second tray of beautifully risen lemon cupcakes from the oven when there was a sharp knock on the kitchen door, which startled her so much that she almost dropped the tray.

  Tugging off her oven gloves, she peered out through the kitchen window, ready to ignore any cheeky reporter who had taken the initiative to turn up in person, only to see her friend Zoe standing at the door in the faint sunlight.

  “You’re up early! Couldn’t sleep?” Erin smiled as she opened the back door wide and let her friend come inside.

  “Hardly a wink,” Zoe replied and shrugged her shoulders. “You too? I saw the light was on in the kitchen and thought you might be awake.”

  “I managed a couple of hours, but it’s so hot today I thought I would get some work done in the deli. Did you see Fiona last evening?”

  Zoe shook her head. “I only popped in for half an hour and she was in her room weeping the whole time. The rest of the family are coping as best they can, but everyone is still confused and in shock.”

  “Well, I know what that feels like,” Erin said as she stirred sugar and lemon juice in a small microwave bowl. “Do you think some lemon drizzle cakes would help Fiona’s mum? It isn’t much, but she probably doesn’t want to cook right now.”

  “Actually, that’s a great idea,” Zoe smiled and sat down at the kitchen table. “But that isn’t why I’m here. You, young lady, have turned off your phone, just like I have. Which makes getting in touch a tad tricky.”

  Erin looked up at Zoe as she painted the lemon juice and sugar on top of the still warm cupcakes. “Do you need me to do something? I’m happy to help.”

  “Have you had the radio on? I’ll take that grimace to mean yes. I’m really sorry that they got hold of your name. I can only think that it was someone who came into the deli yesterday.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Erin said. “Prisha excels at extracting the maximum amount of drama from any situation and she spoke to one reporter for twenty-five minutes yesterday. It was bound to get around one way or another.”

  “Thanks,” Zoe sighed in relief. “In that case, would you mind doing me a favour? I’ve just had a text from the hotel. The police have released Emma’s room and the hotel is anxious to get it cleared today. Would you mind doing that for me? I really want to go and see Fiona this morning and be with them when the press starts knocking on their door. It might help if we have a press statement ready in advance.”

  Erin stared at Zoe for a second, not quite knowing how to answer. “Oh, Zoe. I’m not sure that I’m ready to go back there yet.”

  “That makes two of us.” Zoe licked her lips and pushed her sunglasses higher up into her hair. “Forget I asked.” She smiled and got to her feet. “It was a stupid idea. I’m not thinking straight this morning. Sorry, Erin. I’ll ask the hotel to do it.”

  Zoe’s voice was trembling with exhaustion and emotion as she stood up and tried to smile, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. Erin had never seen her friend so absolutely pale and worn out before.

  “No, wait,” Erin said. “I’ll do it. Emma might not have been the easiest person to deal with, but she deserves some respect. I wouldn’t like a complete stranger packing up my underwear. In fact, I’ll call them right now and get it organized.”

  “Really?” Zoe grinned. “That would be so helpful.”

  Erin smiled and tilted her head to one side. “Consider it done. Although, I do have an ulterior motive. Do you remember that great spa day we had there for Carol’s birthday last year? Maybe I could fit in a swim in the hotel pool at the same time? It could be just what I need right now. But there’s something you can do for me in return.”

  “You can ask,” Zoe coughed.

  “Try one of these cupcakes whilst they are still warm. With the amount of sleep I’ve had this week, there’s a good chance I could have mixed up the wrong ingredients in the recipe. Being my taste tester is a tough job, but I think you are up to the job. Okay? I’ll get the coffee.”

  Erin rolled onto her side and lifted her arms in a slow lazy crawl stroke down the length of the heated swimming pool at the Abbotsdown Hall hotel.

  There was a reason that brides came to the hotel for the pre-wedding spa packages, and it had only taken one phone call to Mr. Blake to book her in for a free swim. Apparently, they had some vacancies and could fit her in. Judging by the empty pool and reception area, she guessed that Emma’s death had been a disaster for the hotel as well as the wedding party.

  The water was silky smooth against her skin. Instincts honed by years of training told her when she reached the end and with one twist she kicked off with her right leg and glided forwards into a slick arrowed profile.

  The early morning August sunshine streamed through the glass roof of the pool room and felt warm on her shoulders. She switched effortlessly into a gentle breaststroke so that the water flowed past her on each side, her legs swaying rather than punching throug
h the water.

  She needed that buzz that came with feeling the sun on her skin while her muscles and body glowed from the inner endorphin and adrenaline rush from diving into a pool and chasing down a few laps to get the body working.

  Erin glided towards the shallow end of the pool but instead of getting out she stretched out her arms and grabbed hold of the edge. She ran the water back through her hair with her fingertips then dropped her head back and took a couple of cleansing breaths.

  With the sun on her face, she slowly closed her eyes, dropped her shoulders and revelled in the moment of being suspended in the warm water.

  She felt so free! Here in the hotel pool, she felt hidden away, invisible, in a private world where she could escape the clamour of the world outside and the pressure of the deli which threatened to overwhelm her.

  She was exhausted, but she desperately needed to calm down and think clearly. Her mind was still a constant turmoil of information and facts and places and names.

  A sudden sound from the changing rooms flicked her out of her thoughts and Erin brought her hand up to shade her eyes. Perhaps one of the girls had come back?

  She turned around from the waist at the same moment as a familiar pair of shiny black shoes stepped forwards onto the patio tiles.

  Matt smiled and strolled slowly towards her, looking ridiculously smart in his suit and slick sunglasses. Clean, neat, professional. Orderly and calm.

  She looked up at him and rested her elbows on the curved tiles next to the steps and waited for him to speak. But as he came closer, she noticed something different about his expression as he gazed at the mosaic tiles with such fascination.

  Erin flashed him a smirk of a smile and pointed to his face. “You’re blushing. I’m flattered. But if you pass me that bath robe over there, I shall save your delicate sensibilities. It wouldn’t do for the morals of a private investigator to be corrupted by several pieces of mocha lycra held up by willpower and under-wiring.”

  Matt blustered with a cough but picked up the robe and draped it over the lounger next to the pool steps.

  “I was not gawping. Simply waiting for you to take a break before interrupting.”

  He frowned. “This hotel is the last place I thought I’d find you. Not after the trauma of your last visit. That’s gutsy.”

  Erin shook her head slowly from side to side as she wrapped the thick white towelling robe around her body. “I’ll take that as a compliment. This is a lovely local hotel, Matt, and I offered to come and pack up Emma’s things. Fiona and the girls don’t feel up to it. And maybe have a little chat with the kitchen staff about what happened that night.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are far too impatient for your own good?”

  “Frequently. Strike hard. Strike first. That’s me.”

  “Fast being the operative word.” Matt coughed. “I can hardly believe that you could get here so fast when the police released Emma’s room. I only picked up your text message half an hour ago.”

  “Ah,” Erin nodded and stretched out on a lounger next to the pool. “You are clearly unaware of the fact that I have an open pass from the hotel manager to enjoy the hotel facilities. I think he felt a bit guilty that my lovely wedding cake burnt to a crisp on his premises.”

  “So,” Matt cleared his throat as he watched Erin meticulously dry her toes. “Did you find, um, anything during your little chat?”

  “Yes, actually, I did. But I’d rather not talk about it here.”

  Erin slid her legs off the lounger and padded over to the mule sandals she had abandoned just outside the changing room.

  Rolling her stiff neck from side to side, Erin stretched up for a few seconds then pulled her robe tighter.

  “Ready to pack up Emma’s room? I’ll need five minutes to shower and get changed. See you on the other side.”

  Emma’s suite was a nightmare.

  Her clothes, underwear, and laundry were scattered all over the un-made bed, chair, and sofa.

  A large grey suitcase was open on the floor in the bedroom and judging from what Erin saw, the contents had been thrown in at random. The only decent outfits Emma had, were hanging in the wardrobe inside suit carriers.

  This had nothing to do with the police and everything to do with Emma Wilson.

  But it was the state of the living room area in the suite that stunned Erin when she walked in.

  “Blimey. Emma took wedding planning even more seriously than I thought, poor girl. Zoe is interested in any of the outstanding bills and invoices that you can find, but I don’t know where to start.”

  Erin made her way across the cluttered bedroom suite. Six large plastic packaging crates were stacked along one wall, with large labels taped to the sides. She peeled back the lid from the closest crate marked ‘RECEPTION’ and peeked inside. A blue envelope contained hand-written card place settings with the names written in italic dark blue ink. Below that was a large paper sack of gift bags in pastel blue taffeta which had already been stuffed with sweets and chocolates. This was where her sugar rosebuds would have gone.

  The bottom half of the box seemed to be full of banners and congratulation stickers, plus a hand-written sheaf of papers with the word ‘speech’ written on the top in a very thin scratchy handwriting.

  A small plastic bag held an emergency kit with dry cleaning fluid, translucent face powder, lip gloss, tissues, needle, and thread.

  Erin sucked in a low slow breath through her nose.

  “Everything okay?” Matt asked as he looked up from a notebook which someone had tossed onto the desk.

  “This is harder than I had thought.” Erin gestured to the crates and the collection of brochures, printed invoices, and receipts that had been stacked on the desk and overflowed onto the floor. “Constable Harris said that they had been through everything and taken what they needed but it looks like that didn’t include tidying up. What a mess. Who would be a wedding planner?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person,” Matt winced. “I had only had three things to do for my wedding and that was turn up, stay sober and remember to thank my mother-in-law for organizing everything. Everything else was taken care of and I had a brilliant day.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” Erin whispered, suddenly embarrassed when she recalled Matt’s uncle Lucien mentioning that Matt was divorced.

  “You didn’t,” Matt nodded. “Are you ready to get started? I’m happy to cart these boxes and files back to the deli, but you’re on your own when it comes to packing this lady’s clothes and personal items. Can I leave you to it? Erin?”

  “No problem. I can pack her suitcases.” Then she stopped. “Wait a second. Take a look at this, Matt.”

  Erin pulled a clear wallet out from the next crate marked ‘HEN NIGHT. “Emma had put together profiles on each of the wedding party. Here’s a photo of Rebecca at some sort of corporate function with the words ‘Gold-digger’ written on it. What do you think she meant by that?”

  Erin flicked through the wallet. “This is unbelievable! She has a complete dossier of documents for Rebecca, Kate, and Maya, and all of it seems to be gossip and dirt.” She dropped it back into the crate and wafted her fingers in the air as though she had just touched something nasty. “I feel the sudden need to wash my hands.”

  “Hold on there,” Matt frowned and stepped forward and picked up the folder. “I wonder if the police have seen these. Emma Wilson might have found something that one of those girls was willing to kill for, to keep hidden.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” she gasped. “What shall we do?”

  “Read them first. Then pass them on to Constable Harris if it is worth his time. That would seem fair, wouldn’t it?”

  “Read them?” Erin exclaimed, horrified at the very idea. “I don’t want to read them. There could be confidential information in these folders or even lies that Emma repeated without checking the facts.” Erin said, taking a step back. “I’ve met these girls and they are all great f
riends who Fiona invited here to celebrate her wedding. I don’t want to dive into their personal lives. Even the idea makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Then how about a compromise?” Matt suggested. “Zoe knows these girls better than you do. Why don’t we show this information to her and ask her opinion? Would that work?”

  Erin stared at the crates that Emma had collected and shook her head. “Why did she do it? Why did she go to all of this trouble to give Fiona a super wedding and then spend days looking for background information on Fiona and her bridesmaids? I don’t understand it at all.”

  “Was that a yes?”

  “Absolutely.” Erin nodded. “Zoe was at the hen party on Friday evening. Emma has to have died in an accident. I don’t want to even think that one of the girls had anything to do with her death. But if there is something here… I would rather know about it and not sweep it under the carpet. I’ll phone Zoe now and ask her to join us at Rosa’s cottage.”

  She looked across at Matt and pushed her shoulders back. “If you pop down for a luggage trolley, I’ll make the call then get started on the packing. Emma’s suitcases are not going to know what hit them.”

  Chapter Seven

  Matt stared at the front of Rosa’s cottage and chuckled. “Well, you said it was a country cottage and you certainly weren’t kidding. I had no idea people still had roses growing around their front doors. You could sell postcards of cottages like this in the deli and boost the tourist trade in Kingsmede.”

  Erin hoisted her cool bag higher on one shoulder and followed Matt up the brick paved steps that led to the cottage. The front door was painted in a deep navy gloss that contrasted perfectly with the white cottage walls and the roses that grew in profusion around the porch.

  She slid her bag onto the path and took a moment to pick out one of the wonderful purple-pink climbing roses from among the shiny green leaves. Bending closer, she closed her eyes and inhaled the extraordinary rich scent that filled her senses. “Have you smelt these roses? The blossoms you buy in the florists can’t compare to these beauties. They’re so amazing at this time of year, I’m sorry that Rosa is missing them at their best.”