The Tell Tail Heart

by Cate Conte

  “Okay. I’ll let you know what happens with Drake. You know, unless you hear the story from your reporter first.” I disconnected and pondered my next move. I figured I’d give Val some time to cool off before I told her I changed my mind.

  I picked up my phone and called my web guy out in California. “Bones. Quick question,” I said when he answered.

  “What’s up?” Bones was a man of few words, but a genius with websites and all things digital. Despite his name, which before I met him in person conjured up an image of a giant biker dude with a skull bandanna, he was actually not a biker or very bone-like. He was actually a little short and chunky.

  “I’m looking for someone online and nothing is coming up. Why would that be?”

  “They could have erased their footprint,” he said. “Happens more than you think when someone wants to fly under the radar.”

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  “It’s not that complicated, but it’s a little time consuming,” Bones said. “You gotta go back and try to remove yourself from all kinds of things—social media accounts, unsubscribe from everything, maybe even contact some webmasters to get rid of info. Some people remove their email accounts altogether.”

  “So you must really want to hide if you’re doing that,” I said. Why would this woman want to fly so far under the radar?

  “Either hide, or get rid of old information about yourself,” Bones agreed. “Or it could be a fake name.”

  I sat up straight. A fake name. Maybe Thea Coleman wasn’t really Thea Coleman? So why would she lie? It couldn’t just be because she wanted my cat.

  “Maddie?”

  I’d gone silent on Bones. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m here.”

  “There is one more possibility,” he said.

  “Yeah?”

  “She could just be someone who doesn’t use social or have any kind of online presence. There are those people in the world, you know. How old is she?”

  “Not sure. Older. At least fifties. Probably more.”

  “Well, that could be it,” he said. “People in the older gens tend to have a lower footprint.”

  Personally, I liked the fake-name idea better. “This is really helpful, Bones. I think I might have my answer. Thank you.” I hung up, wondering what all of that meant. Either Thea Coleman was using an assumed name or else she’d spent an awful lot of time burying her tracks so she couldn’t be found in the digital world. Grudgingly, I admitted that Bones’ other theory might be a possibility, too, but I had to make sure I covered all my bases.

  Leopard Man, who I hadn’t seen since he slipped out of the house the other night, might be the only person who could shed light on this particular mystery since he was the only one on the island who might have known Thea. That is, aside from Jason Holt. Who was, unfortunately, dead.

  Thea’s anonymity on the island didn’t sit well with me. I flipped on the TV and went to the local news channel, looking for a weather update. Although I didn’t need anyone to tell me that it was getting worse out there. The trees were whipping around my windows, gaining speed with every passing moment. Delia Redding, the reporter stuck covering the weather today, stood out at one of the beaches, holding on to her rain hat. I thought of Lucas at his dog-grooming convention and sighed. I missed him. I wished he were here to talk all this through with.

  “This is going to be a big storm, and a slow-moving one, Alex,” Delia told her counterpart at the news desk, her words fading as the wind assaulted her microphone. “The winds are picking up now, and we’re expecting to see them gain in force all weekend. This storm will get worse tomorrow and likely not taper off until possibly late Sunday night, given the patterns we’re seeing.”

  She paused, glancing at some notes in her hands, which were undoubtedly getting soaked. “We’re already receiving word of ferry cancellations.…”

  Chapter 32

  I woke up the next morning to the sound of something crashing down on the roof.

  “Oh, please don’t let that be a tree falling on the house,” I prayed out loud, throwing the covers off and jumping out of bed, still bleary-eyed. JJ was startled, too, but he just looked around, then went back to sleep. Sometimes I wanted to be a cat.

  This wasn’t what I needed right now. I’d been up late talking to Lucas. I’d filled him in on the hotel incident and my conversation with Drake. He had filled me in on the first day of the groomers’ convention and the budgeting and salon efficiency session he’d found valuable today. He also told me that he was already getting weather alerts from the ferry about Sunday’s schedule being up in the air.

  I hurried into the hallway and to the big window next to my old reading nook, where I had the best view of the side of the yard. All the trees were still standing as far as I could see. That was something.

  I pulled on some thick wool socks and headed downstairs, surprised to find it was nine o’clock. It felt like five, or something equally as early. And that could explain why no one was around. Ethan usually went for yoga on Saturday mornings. Grandpa was probably out investigating something and Val would likely be party planning. So I was in charge.

  I found my rain boots in the hall closet, grabbed my coat and an umbrella, and hurried outside. And found a woman wearing a San Francisco Giants baseball cap pulled low over her face and a black puffy coat standing on my porch.

  I gasped, my hand flying to my chest. “Jeez. You scared me. I’m sorry, do you have an appointment?” I certainly hoped not. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth yet. And I wasn’t even sure that we were planning to be open.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t even sure I was going to come in. I’m Lexie Holt. My husband was … Jason Holt. The author.”

  My eyes widened. Lexie Holt. Why was she here? “Ms. Holt. Yes. I’m so sorry,” I said, recovering enough to find my manners. Her hair was under the cap, so I hadn’t realized it was her. “I’m Maddie. Please, come in. It’s nasty out.” I held the door for her, looking outside. There was a car parked at the sidewalk. Black sedan, but I couldn’t make out the plates.

  “It is. Thank you.” She followed me inside—the roof would have to wait, I just hoped there wasn’t a giant, leaking hole—and stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands in her pockets. “I’ve heard a lot about your place,” she said finally.

  “You have?” I asked stupidly.

  She nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Jason told me he was spending time here. He liked it.”

  Her soon-to-be ex was telling her where he was spending his days? Guess they were still friendly.

  “I feel terrible about what happened,” I said. “He seemed like a very nice man.”

  “He was,” she said, and I realized she was about to cry.

  “Oh, don’t cry,” I said, wishing desperately that Ethan were here to give her some food. He must’ve made some things before he left. He usually did. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  She shook her head and pulled a crumpled tissue out of her pocket, dabbing at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the last place he spent time at. Do you know if … he was here with anyone?”

  “He was alone,” I said. “Working. At least while he was in here.”

  Lexie looked at me for a long moment, maybe trying to gauge if I was telling her the truth. I wondered what this was about.

  “Thank you,” she said finally. “We were having some problems lately, but … I’d hoped we’d work them out when he came home. And now we’ll never have the chance.” She looked genuinely sad about that. “And I have to figure out how to get him home. I’m thinking a private plane. He would like that.” She looked up at me, twisting her fingers together nervously. “You think he would like that?”

  I had no idea if he would like that. “Uh. I’m sure he would,” I said.

  She nodded. “Do you know where I could get one?”

  “A private plane? Ah, no. I’m afraid I don’t,” I said.

  I didn’t know what to say a
fter that, so we lapsed into an awkward silence. But I couldn’t pass up the chance to ask about my mystery woman.

  “Ms. Holt,” I began, but she shook her head.

  “Call me Lexie.”

  “Lexie. When you got to the hotel, the police were there.”

  “Ugh.” She nodded vigorously. “Some crazy fan of Jason’s was trying to break into his room. Did you hear about it?”

  Thankfully, she hadn’t remembered me from the lobby. “I did,” I said. “So it was a fan of his?”

  She shrugged. “That’s what I figured. I mean, who else would do that?”

  “Did they tell you her name?”

  “They did. Theresa or something?”

  “Thea,” I said. “Thea Coleman. That name doesn’t sound familiar to you?”

  “No. Should it?” Her eyes narrowed. “Did you know her? Was he seeing her?”

  She seemed awfully jealous. “I sincerely doubt it,” I said. “But I can’t really say. I’m curious because she came in here, too, one day when he was here. I got the sense they knew each other.”

  “Really,” Lexie Holt said slowly.

  “I mean, I don’t know for sure but…” I trailed off. “Not like a seeing each other thing, though,” I added hastily. I didn’t want to cause any more trouble.

  She sat for a minute, lost in thought, then stood.

  “I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you for letting me see the place.”

  “Of course.” I spotted Jasmine poking her head out of her cubby and pointed her out. “That was his favorite cat. She would sit on his lap while he worked.”

  “Really?” She went over and crouched in front of the cubby, holding her hand out for Jasmine to sniff. “What’s her name?”

  “Jasmine.”

  I watched as Jazzy ventured out, head butting Lexie’s hand and purring.

  Lexie looked like she was about to cry again. “She’s sweet,” she said, wiping at her eyes again. “Thank you, Maddie.” And she hurried out the front door.

  I reached down and rubbed Jazzy’s head. “She liked you,” I told her. “I kind of feel sorry for her.”

  Unless it was all an act, which I didn’t really think it was, Lexie Holt was genuinely broken up about her husband’s death.

  Chapter 33

  I followed Lexie Holt outside, watching as she got into her car and drove away as our contractor Gabe Quinn’s van pulled into the driveway. Thank goodness. That meant he could check the roof for me.

  I waited until he’d climbed out and headed toward me. “Morning,” I said. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Morning. Sure thing, what’s up?”

  “Something crashed onto the roof this morning. I don’t think it was a tree, but can you just see what it was and if there’s any damage?”

  I could tell he wasn’t thrilled about climbing a ladder in this weather, but he nodded. “Yeah. Will do.”

  “Thank you so much. There’s coffee!” I beamed at him.

  He gave me more of a grimace than a smile and headed back to the van.

  I went inside, shedding my wet coat, and headed into the kitchen to get the promised coffee ready. My cell rang. The cat cafe line. I picked up. “Good morning, JJ’s House of Purrs.”

  “Hello. I was wondering if I could get an appointment today?”

  “Today. Sure, what time?”

  “Around noon, if possible?”

  That worked. I didn’t have anything to do until the big stakeout, if Val still wanted to bring me. “Sure thing.”

  “Terrific. Thanks so much.”

  “Can I get your—” But he’d already disconnected. “Name,” I muttered. “Oh, well.”

  I dropped my phone on the table and turned back to the coffeepot. Ethan had made cinnamon rolls, too. I was totally going to get fat.

  I heard the front door slam and poked my head out. “Not a tree?”

  Val stared at me. “Huh?”

  “Oh. I thought you were Gabe. He was checking what happened on the roof.”

  “A tree fell on the roof?”

  “No. At least I don’t think so.”

  “Oh.” She folded up her umbrella and stuck it behind the door.

  “You want coffee?” I asked.

  “No thanks,” she said.

  No use in trying to ease into the conversation if she was going to make it hard on me. “Are you still looking for an undercover partner for tonight?” I asked.

  She frowned. “Why? I thought you had better things to do.”

  I bit back a sigh and leaned against the doorjamb. “Look, Val. I admit the Dr. Drake/Ava-Rose thing seems a little weird. But given the whole thing with Drake and Holt, maybe it’s worth a look.” I had my fingers crossed behind my back. I’d done a little brainstorming, and I had a plan to make this a win-win. Plus, I hoped it would score me some points so I could ask her my favor.

  I was going to have Craig stop by the yacht club while we were “undercover” and ask what we’re all doing there so late, saying he was patrolling the area because of the recent incident and was everyone okay? Not to mention, if Becky sent a reporter, that would be another way to try to get to the bottom of this. Val would probably know exactly what happened the minute Craig showed up, but I could deal with that later.

  Val heaved out a long-suffering sigh. “I guess that’s fine, then.”

  “Cool. You sure you don’t want a cup of coffee with me? Come on. There’s cinnamon buns.” I nudged her along. She followed reluctantly. “Where is Ethan? Tai Chi?”

  “Yeah. And he wanted to go to the market, too. Said we needed stuff for juices.”

  “He misses the juice bar. Hey, I think I found a place.”

  “Really? The one you went to look at this week?”

  I nodded and took two cinnamon buns from the plate Ethan had left covered on the counter. “I emailed the Realtor to see how much. Hopefully it will work out. Want one?” I turned and offered one to my sister and found her beaming. “What?”

  “You’re going to open a juice bar, too. That’s great.” She clapped her hands together, excited. “That means he’ll probably want to stay, right? I figured I’d have to move off the island eventually because why would he want to stay here, but it sounds like he might?”

  I stared at her. I’d never heard her say so much about a guy at one time. Not even her husband. “Val. As far as I know, he’s staying,” I said. “And he has even more reason to now because of you. It’s all good. Don’t worry. Now. What time are we going tonight?”

  Val checked her watch. “Around eight.”

  “Ethan coming? I’m assuming he knows about this plan.”

  “Of course he does,” Val said. “We don’t keep secrets. But he’s not coming. Said he has no interest in playing cops and robbers.” She made a face.

  “I don’t really blame him,” I said. “Chasing around some wooden ships can’t be the highlight of anyone’s career, even a real cop.”

  She glowered at me. “Are you going to just make fun of me all night? ’Cause you shouldn’t bother coming—”

  “I’m kidding,” I interrupted her. “God, you’re so sensitive.”

  The door slammed again and a sopping-wet Gabe Quinn appeared. “No tree,” he reported. “Just a few branches. They must’ve hit hard, but there’s no damage.” He took off his hat and swiped at some water, sending a stream onto the floor.

  “Let me get you a towel. Come on, there’s coffee and cinnamon buns.” I led him into the kitchen and handed him a mug and a plate, then hurried into the downstairs bathroom for a towel. He looked happy enough despite what I’d asked him to do.

  “These are amazing,” he said around a mouthful.

  I nodded. “Right? Okay. I’m going to shower. I have a client coming at noon. Val, we’ll talk later.”

  I took my cinnamon bun and coffee and raced upstairs, closing the door behind me and sinking down on the bed with my phone. Taking a bite, I dialed Craig.

  “You are so not
the sarge’s favorite person right now,” he said when he picked up.

  I finished chewing. “So what else is new? Did he get any good info from Lexie Holt?”

  Craig made a noise that sounded like a cross between a snort and a cough. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

  “Sure do. Listen, I need your help tonight around eight thirty.”

  “It’s never a good thing to know exactly when you might need police intervention,” Craig muttered. “What are you up to now?”

  “Come to the yacht club right around then. Pretend to be patrolling the area and see some activity and come in to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “And why wouldn’t it be okay?” Craig asked.

  “My sister is humoring Ava-Rose, and she asked me to humor her along with her. Ava-Rose wants to stake out the yacht club to see if someone—namely Dr. Drake—shows up.”

  “What kind of a town do I work in where people think it’s okay to tell the cops about stakeouts they’re planning? Wait, not just tell them, but actually invite them along?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” I asked.

  “I’m off duty tonight.”

  “So you’re not going to come? Really? You could get some info about the fight.”

  “We’ve already talked to both of them.”

  “And they both told you everything you needed to know,” I said, the sarcasm dripping off my words.

  “Maddie. I’m working. I’ll talk to you later.” And he hung up.

  “Huh,” I said, tossing the phone onto my bed. “I guess he doesn’t want to come out and play cops and robbers, either.”

  I ate my cinnamon bun and drank my coffee while I texted Lucas. He was in a session, but he texted with me for a while. I thought it best not to mention the stakeout until we knew how it went. Then I jumped into the shower and made it downstairs by eleven thirty to wait for my noon appointment.

  Ethan had returned home. He was in the kitchen juicing up a storm. I stuck my head in and said hi and got a juice for my efforts. Then the doorbell rang.