“Jealousy,” Logan put in.
“Love,” Jane said.
They all looked at her.
“Unrequited love?” she said.
“But who loved whom and wasn’t loved in return?” Kelsey asked.
“Let’s see what they’ve gotten us from the home office,” Logan suggested.
He sat at Sloan’s laptop, found his mail, and ran through everything that had been returned. “I sent them copies of Jane’s sketches from last night along with names and everything else, and so far no one has a criminal record. Mr. Green has been here all his life. Our host, Emil, had some trouble with drinking and being rowdy in college, but that doesn’t suggest he’d become homicidal. The maids? Lila Adkins is taking college courses by night. She hasn’t even had a parking ticket. Sonia Anderson is halfway through a community college now. She wants to be a nurse. Phoebe Martin took the job here years ago when she was divorced. She took it because she could live at the castle, according to the records. Chef? He had offers all over the place but Emil Roth really liked him—they met at a restaurant in Boston—and offered him a husky salary. The two cooks? Devon Richard has applied to the police academy—with good scores. He’ll probably be hired on when they have a position. And Harry Taubolt plans on staying to study with Chef. He wants a food career.” He looked up at the others again. “Are we certain that Lila and Sonia left the castle last night?”
“Their cars were gone,” Sloan said.
“I think we can rule them out. But how do we narrow down the others?” Kelsey asked.
“We’re looking at Emil Roth, Scully Adair, Chef, Harry Taubolt, Devon Richard, Phoebe Martin, and Mr. Green,” Logan said.
“Except that we know Emil Roth and Scully Adair were in Emil’s room when whoever we saw on the stairs was sneaking around the house last night,” Sloan said.
“So Chef, Harry, Devon, Phoebe, or Mr. Green,” Jane said.
“And Mr. Green was in the caretaker’s cottage when we went there. But he had time to slip in. The main thing is that whoever had been in the house just disappeared, as if into thin air. We need to find out where he or she got in and out of the house,” Sloan said.
“We could start a search—” Kelsey said.
“Or just ask,” Sloan suggested.
“Emil Roth,” Jane said.
* * * *
Jane wasn’t sure why but she felt the need to be in the room alone. Not that Logan, Sloan, and Kelsey weren’t as good as she was when it came to communicating with the dead, but, in her experience, the dead sometimes chose who they would and wouldn’t communicate with.
This time, she was certain, it was her.
Kelsey went down to the kitchen to talk to the cooks and maids. Sloan and Logan went down the hall to speak with Emil Roth about the architecture of the castle.
She sat quietly in the bedroom and said, “Elizabeth, I know that you’re here. Please, speak with me. Tell me if you’ve seen anything, if you know anything that might help us.”
The air didn’t stir, and yet she felt that someone had heard her.
“I saw John McCawley last night,” she said. “He wanted me to tell you that he loves you. That he’ll never leave you. He watches you at the window. But you know that. That’s why you go to the window. So that you can see him.”
Slowly, Elizabeth appeared before her and walked to where Jane sat on the bed.
“I didn’t kill myself,” she said. “They said that I took the laudanum on purpose. My poor father believed that I did it myself. But, I did not.”
That wasn’t what Jane had expected to hear. “I’m so sorry. But who would have given you the overdose?”
“It was in the tea, I think,” she said. “I believe it was my father’s maid. She knew that father had no faith in John. Father was so mistaken. I hated his money. John hated his money. Everyone believes that if you have money, that’s all that anyone wants. But I loved John. Maybe she believed that if John and I were both gone, and with mother gone, just my brother left… but she underestimated my father. He had loved my mother. There was no affair between them. And still, I’m certain that she tried her best. She had her brother kill John in the woods and make it look as if he’d been killed by my brother or my father! And then, of course, it was easy for her to make it look as if I were a suicide.”
“What was the maid’s name?” Jane asked her.
“Molly,” Elizabeth said.
“What became of her?”
“My father fired her. She became uppity and thought she ruled the place. But he took care of her. He fired her and banned her from the property.”
“And what did she do?” Jane asked.
“She left the house, cursing us all!”
“Did you know Molly’s last name?” Jane asked.
Elizabeth shook her head.
Jane jumped up. “I have to get into your family’s records.”
“They’re in the office. There’s a display case there with the records from the 19th century.”
“Thank you,” Jane told her.
“How can that help?” Elizabeth asked her. “Our deaths were so long ago.”
“I’m not sure, at the moment,” Jane said.
She left Elizabeth and the room.
Greed was just one motive for murder.
But unrequited love and revenge were two others.
Chapter 8
“There are no secret entrances to the castle,” Emil Roth told them. “But, of course, don’t forget, there are two back entrances.”
“But they can only be reached by the back, right?” Sloan asked.
Emil nodded.
Sloan looked at Logan. Their disappearing figure of the night before could have circled around the castle and come in through one of the back entrances. But what then?
“And there are servants’ stairs that go up to the second landing and the attic,” Emil said.
“Of course,” Sloan said, irritated that he’d forgotten that in old places like this there was bound to be a second set of stairs.
Okay, one mystery solved.
“What are you thinking?” Emil asked Sloan.
“I’m thinking that someone has really been planning on attacking you and is getting rid of others in the hopes of ruining your life.”
Emil looked at Logan. “Do you agree with that?”
“That’s where we need your help,” he said.
“I swear to you, I’m not the best human being in the world, but I’m not the worst. I haven’t hurt anyone in a vicious business deal. I support equal rights. I’m decent,” he said. “Not to mention, the only people here are my employees and you people.”
“Is there any reason, say, Mr. Green, would harbor you any resentment?” Sloan asked.
“Not that I know of. He’s happy, I’m happy. He tells me what he should do, and I tell him to go ahead and do it.”
“What about the maids?”
“I overpay them. They have it easy.”
“And Scully?” Sloan asked. She’d been with him—in bed—but that could have been part of a ploy. Perhaps two people working together.
“Scully,” he said. “I love her.”
Sloan and Logan looked at one another.
“Does she have an ex-boyfriend?” Logan asked.
True, they were both grasping at straws.
“Not that I know about. We started seeing each other about three months ago. Honestly, that’s why I slipped back here and didn’t go to Africa. We needed more time together. We wanted to be sure, really sure that we wanted to be together forever. And we are sure.”
“Why was she so worried about what Mrs. Avery would think?” Sloan asked.
“Because, if we weren’t really certain she wanted to keep her job. You know, everyone would have thought that she was after my money. She was so afraid of that. She has a degree in hospitality, so she could work anywhere. She’s been offered good jobs by the major chains. But she wanted to stay here. Her mom and dad are here. Her d
ad isn’t well. But to think she wanted my money? That was just stupid!”
There was a tap on the door and Sloan opened it.
Detective Flick was standing there. “Detective Forester would like to speak with Mr. Roth now.”
“Of course,” Emil said.
He followed Flick out. Sloan and Logan came too, but Flick motioned for them to hold back.
“Detective Forester asked that you head to the morgue. The medical examiner called. He has something. We want you to go so we can keep the questioning here going.”
Sloan looked at Logan, who lowered his head to hide a grin. More probable, the medical examiner had specifically asked that the two of them come.
“We’ll head right there,” Sloan said.
“If you’ll be good enough to tell us where it is,” Logan said.
Flick gave them directions, then hurried ahead to make sure Emil Roth made it down the stairs okay. Sloan strode quickly down the hall to tell Jane where they were going. But she wasn’t in the bridal suite. He called her cell and she answered promptly.
“I’m in the office, looking at records.”
“What are you thinking?”
“It’s vague at the moment, but revenge is looking good.”
“Who’s taking revenge on whom?” he asked.
She laughed. “I don’t know yet. But as soon as I do, I’ll call you.”
He hung up and he and Logan headed to the morgue. The village was quaint and small, but the morgue was state of the art. The reverend’s body had already been claimed. Mrs. Avery remained. She looked small and thin lying on the morgue table.
“Here is what I want you to see,” the medical examiner said.
They looked at the shaved head which revealed a dark bruising.
“I don’t know about the reverend, but Mrs. Avery didn’t take an accidental fall. She was struck on the head. And then she was pushed down the landing and the murderer was quite lucky. She broke her neck on the way down. Gentlemen, this is no accidental death. I’m classifying it a homicide!”
* * * *
Jane learned that Elizabeth’s “Molly” was Margaret Clarendon. She’d been employed by Emil Roth from the time he’d moved into the castle until three months after the deaths of John McCawley and Elizabeth Roth. She’d died, unmarried, according to the records, sixth months after her dismissal, when she’d careened off a cliff. Whether she’d thrown herself off or fallen, there was no record. But her death had been labeled accidental. Had Margaret Clarendon thrown herself off the cliff? Remorseful for what she had done? Or bitter, because with all her machinations she’d failed to win the lord of the castle? No way to tell from the records. So Jane left the office and headed up the stairs again to the second level. As she climbed, she remembered to grip the handrail.
Halfway up, she ran into Scully Adair.
“Do you know anything?” Scully asked her anxiously.
“No, Scully, I’m so sorry. I wish I did.”
“They questioned me forever. They think I’m a murderer!”
“Not necessarily, Scully. They have to question everyone like that,” Jane assured her.
“They still have Emil in there,” Scully said.
“He’ll be fine,” Jane said.
“I just wish he’d come out. They’re talking to everyone so long.”
“They’re being thorough, listening for something someone might not even realize is a clue to what is going on.”
“I’m going to get some coffee and something to eat. Do you want to come?” Scully asked her.
“I’ll be there in a minute. I have something to check on,” Jane said. “I promise, I’ll be right along.”
Scully nodded, then gripped the banister tightly as she went on down the stairs.
When Jane reached the bridal suite, she was alone. Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen and Jane didn’t sense her presence. She went straight to her computer and video-phoned Angela at the home offices of the Krewe in Virginia.
Angela was with the first Krewe of Hunters. She’d earned her stripes in New Orleans. She was now married to Jackson Crow, the field director for all Krewe agents. While Jackson managed most of their commitments, there was still their overall head, Adam Harrison, who’d first recognized those out there with special intuition—that ability to talk to the dead. He was an incredibly kind man with a talent for finding and recruiting the right people for his Krewe.
Angela came online. She was a beautiful blonde who looked like she should have starred in a noir movie.
“Anything?” she asked Jane.
“So much!”
Jane told her about the morning’s events, then said, “I need you to do a search on a woman named Margaret Clarendon, who lived here in the mid-1800s. Find out anything you can about her—before and after she worked for the Roth family.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Elizabeth Roth believes that she was murdered, and that her fiancé was murdered, too. She thinks she was killed by this maid.”
“And that will help you now?” Angela asked.
“I think so,” Jane said. “There’s no one to benefit from Emil Roth’s death or from him being ruined. There has to be another motive.”
“And you think Margaret Clarendon, despite the fact that she might have been a murderess, felt that ill was done to her?”
“We’ve seen it before. Sometimes there’s a descendant out there who feels that they have to right a family wrong,” Jane said.
“But remember that sometimes people just act on greed, jealousy, or revenge. Modern day psychos or self-centered asses,” Angela reminded her.
“I’ll watch from all sides,” Jane promised her.
She said good-bye and they cut the connection. Jane drummed her fingers on the table for a minute, and then hopped up again. She was going to have to wait for results, but she couldn’t sit idly by.
Time to try to pay a visit to John McCawley again.
* * * *
“Here’s what I can’t figure. If Mrs. Avery was hit on the head, she had to have been hit on the head with something. Where is that something she was hit with?” Sloan asked.
“Whoever hit her took it with them,” Logan said.
Sloan was the one driving as they headed back to the castle. He saw a coffee shop and switched on his blinker, ready to pull into the lot.
“We’re stopping for coffee,” Logan said.
Sloan grinned. “I thought we’d try for a little more gossip.”
“Sounds good to me. And coffee, too,” Logan told him.
They went in and were noticed right away by the hostess, who stood at the cash register. A number of patrons were sitting around at the various faux-leather booths. They were definitely the outsiders, probably known as the people who were the guests at the castle. Where bad things happened.
“Sit anywhere?” Sloan said, smiling at the cashier.
“Wherever,” she said.
He and Logan claimed a booth. A waitress came over, offered them menus, and took their orders for coffee. She scampered away, then returned quickly. She looked as if she was both anxious and afraid to talk to them.
She flushed as she poured the coffee and caught Sloan’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I mean, it’s a small village. You’re guests at the castle, right?”
“Yes, we are. Sad business there, though,” Sloan said.
“My God, yes! The poor reverend. Everyone loved him, you know. And now they say that Mrs. Avery has fallen down the stairs and broken her neck, too!”
Her nametag identified her as Genie.
“Yes, Mrs. Avery died,” Sloan said.
“The poor woman,” Logan agreed.
The cashier, apparently, couldn’t stand being out of the know. She headed over to the table with a bowl of coffee creamers.
“Poor woman, my foot,” she said. “Denise Avery thought she was better than anyone in town. She really thought Emil would run himself into the ground with drugs, or his stupid bungee jumping
, or parachuting or whatever. He fooled her.”
Sloan and Logan glanced at one another and up at the cashier. Her tag noted her name as Mary.
“Oh, I know!” she said. “I must sound horrible. But she came in here all the time and was rude.”
“I applied to work at the castle,” Genie said. “She looked at me as if I were flypaper. I didn’t stand a chance. I wasn’t pretty enough.”
“You’re quite pretty!” Sloan told her.
Which was true.
“Oh, no! Mrs. Avery wanted really pretty girls to work there. Even as maids. I mean, who cares what your maid looks like if she does a good job?”
“Hmmph!” Mary said. “That woman wanted to tease Emil. She wanted to get him going with whoever she brought in. And then remind him, of course, that he had a position in life, even if he wasn’t fulfilling it. She just wanted to mess with that man.”
“She’s gone now,” Genie reminded her.
Mary crossed herself. “It’s not good to speak ill of the dead.”
“But truth is truth,” Genie said. “The reverend? He was a good man.”
“Bad heart, though,” Mary said.
“Oh, dear!” Genie said. “We are terrible. What would you like to eat?”
“What’s fast?” Sloan asked.
“The special. Stew,” Genie said.
“We’ll take it,” Logan told her.
“Sounds delicious,” Sloan said.
It was actually terrible, or maybe it just seemed terrible because they’d been eating Chef’s food. But it was fast and filling and they were out of there in no time. Sloan wasn’t sure what they’d gained, but they’d gained something.
“Mrs. Avery was quite a manipulator,” Sloan said.
“She was so determined to seduce Emil Roth with the maids, but he went and fell in love with Scully Adair,” Logan mused.
Sloan looked at him. “Do we know what happened before he fell in love with Scully Adair?”
“It would be interesting to find out,” Logan said.
* * * *
Jane was amazed at how quickly the day ended and darkness fell. It seemed that they’d just awoken with Mrs. Avery at the foot of the stairs. Then the police had come and begun their investigation. She had spoken with Angela, Kelsey had hob-knobbed with the kitchen staff and maids, and Logan and Sloan had headed to the autopsy. The hours had flown by, and as she came down the stairs, she could hear Detective Forester in the Great Hall. He’d certainly taken a long time with every single person who’d been in the house. She listened a second and realized from the slow answers he was receiving that Forester was now questioning Mr. Green. She thought about stopping by the kitchen, but decided to head on to the chapel.
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