Miss Frost Says I Do: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 7)

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Miss Frost Says I Do: A Nocturne Falls Mystery (Jayne Frost Book 7) Page 13

by Kristen Painter


  “Agreed,” Larsen said. “We only have part of the picture.”

  I nodded. “And we won’t have the whole thing until we know who’s responsible. At least we know her memories don’t include being stabbed.”

  The constable nodded. “That must have happened post-mortem.”

  I crossed my arms. “Again, done to frame LeRoy.”

  Larsen flicked her gaze at me. “We don’t know that was the reason.”

  My brows shot up. “Someone stabbed her with scissors, then left a scrap of fabric under her remains that matches a dress made by LeRoy, and you don’t think that looks like a frame job?”

  She frowned. “I understand that you have a bias toward him, but we can’t rule out anyone at this point. Maybe it was done to frame him, or maybe he had a motive we don’t know about.”

  “Then let’s find out.” I got up. “I’m going to talk to him. I’m going to ask him about Rachel and see what he says.”

  Larsen stood too. “I’m going with you. With all due respect, an officer of the law needs to be there.”

  “I completely understand.” I didn’t wait for her. I just left, Sin and Birdie following behind me. I was mad. I did understand that Larsen was doing her job, but I really couldn’t see how LeRoy was involved in this.

  I called him on the drive over. He picked up right away. I spoke as soon as the line went live. “LeRoy? It’s Jayne.”

  “Princess, how lovely to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’m on my way over with Constable Larsen. We need to talk to you about an ongoing case. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  “I see. Well, I appreciate that, and I’m happy to help.”

  “I want you to know that I’m on your side. I hope my faith in you is well placed.”

  A moment of silence followed. Then he cleared his throat. “Am I in some sort of trouble?”

  I knew I shouldn’t say too much, or I could be putting myself in hot water as well. Royal immunity went only so far. “I hope not. We’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t panic. Just prepare yourself to answer some questions.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” I hung up.

  Sin was giving me a look. I could feel it. “What?”

  “You’re putting yourself in a precarious position.”

  “I agree,” Birdie said. “If he’s guilty, you’ve just aided and abetted him.”

  I glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “I didn’t give him any details. I didn’t even mention Rachel’s name.”

  She pursed her lips. “That’s the only saving grace.”

  Sin shook his head. “I know you’re upset, sweetheart. But we have to do this the right way.”

  “Sure, to a point. Larsen seems like she has it out for LeRoy. Someone needs to be on his side.”

  I found a parking space near the shop, and we went in.

  LeRoy met us at the entrance. His brow was furrowed and his posture rigid with tension. He bowed stiffly. “Princess Jayne.”

  I took his hands and squeezed them. “It’s all going to be all right.”

  Larsen came in right behind us.

  I dropped LeRoy’s hands and made the introductions. “LeRoy, this is Constable Larsen. Constable, this is the royal couturier, LeRoy Bonfitte.”

  Instantly, LeRoy shed all traces of anxiety and was his usual charming self. With a gracious smile, he extended his hand. “Constable, it’s my pleasure to meet you. What a wonderful job you do of keeping our town so peaceful and safe.”

  She shook his hand, but didn’t react much more than that. She was hard to read in that moment. She certainly didn’t seem impressed with anything. Not the shop, not LeRoy’s title, not his welcoming attitude. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  He spread his arms. “My shop is my home. We can speak anywhere you like. But perhaps we’d be more comfortable in the grand salon? There are plenty of spots to sit there.” He turned and softly called out, “Charlotte?”

  His assistant appeared from the back. “Sir?”

  “Please watch the shop. I’ll be in the grand salon for a bit and don’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We followed LeRoy back to the very place where I’d recently stood in the dress of my dreams. The four of us settled onto the couches. The constable stayed on her feet.

  Then she started in. “Do you recall a woman by the name of Rachel Brightmoore?”

  LeRoy’s gaze narrowed in recollection. “Brightmoore…just a moment. Was she a summer elf?”

  The constable nodded.

  LeRoy shook his head. “That was ages ago.” He glanced at me. “About the time of your christening, I’d say. Or before it. Or right after.” He returned his attention to the constable. “I’d have to check my files to be certain.”

  “That would be good,” Larsen said. “What was your relationship with her?”

  “Relationship?” LeRoy looked amused. “The same as it is with every woman who walks through those doors. To dress her to the best of my ability. I was designing a gown for her. A wedding gown, if memory serves.”

  Larsen’s stony expression remained unchanged. “You’re a very popular designer, aren’t you?”

  “Thanks to the patronage of the royal family, that’s true.”

  “And you have been for some time, correct?”

  “Yes. Well over sixty years.”

  “If I wanted you to design a dress for me, what would the process be like?”

  LeRoy didn’t hesitate. “I’d start by checking my appointment book to see what my next available opening is. Typically, I’m booked quite a few months out, and that’s for regular customers. For a new client, it can take a substantial while longer to get them in. In fact, there’s a waiting list for new clients.”

  “And it’s been like that for a while?”

  “Yes. It’s just how my business works.”

  Larsen paced a few steps to the right, bringing her closer to LeRoy. “How did Miss Brightmoore, who wasn’t even a citizen of the realm, happen to get an appointment with you, then?”

  He put a hand to his chin, gaze narrowing in thought. “I’m trying to remember the circumstances.”

  While LeRoy thought, Larsen turned and went left, hands behind her back like she had all day to wear a path in the shop’s pale blue carpeting.

  Suddenly, his finger went up. “It’s coming back to me. Another patron gave up her standing appointment so that Miss Brightmoore could come in.”

  Larsen stopped pacing. “Another patron? Who?”

  LeRoy smiled, clearly pleased that he’d pulled the information from the recesses of his memory. “Mrs. Finnoula Bitterbark.”

  Birdie and I looked at each other. Her brows were raised. And I understood. Finnoula had cared enough to make sure Rachel had a dress from LeRoy. If she’d gotten an inkling that Rachel was going to break off the engagement, Finnoula could have been upset enough to do something drastic about it.

  And Finnoula had only been in the beginning stages of her illness when this had all happened. She would have still had the strength to say, move a body.

  Even so, I shrugged. Mostly because I was still leaning toward George at this point. “It could mean Finnoula’s involved. Unless you think she was in on it with LeRoy. Which I don’t. It probably just means she was trying to help out her future daughter-in-law.”

  Birdie nodded. “I agree. I think we should go see her again.”

  The constable turned toward Birdie. “You went to see her? About this case?”

  “No,” I chimed in quickly. Birdie didn’t need to take this one on. She’d only been along for the ride at Finnoula’s. “We were trying to find out why her son put an end to the hangar tours.”

  The constable’s unconvinced smirk was so brief I almost didn’t catch it. “And did you?”

  I sighed. “No. In fact, I haven’t even spoken to George yet. I wanted to ask him to restart the tour
s in honor of our wedding.”

  Sin smiled. “That would be nice. My parents would enjoy that, I think. My dad’s always been a car guy. And I realize there aren’t really any cars in there, but the vehicles would interest him all the same.”

  I leaned in toward Sin. “You know I can get him in there regardless of whether the tours are happening or not.”

  Larsen cleared her throat. “If we could get back to the subject at hand—”

  “Which one?” I asked. “Finnoula? George? Rachel? How about we do whatever we need to do to clear LeRoy’s name?”

  Larsen snapped, “I can’t do that until the real murderer is found.”

  LeRoy recoiled. “Murderer? Is that what happened to Rachel? Why she disappeared?”

  I nodded. “I’m afraid so. How far did you get with her dress?”

  Lines bracketed his mouth, giving a glimpse into his age. “I only had a muslin done, so it wasn’t much of a loss, but it still pains me to hear that such a sweet girl met such a terrible end.”

  On a hunch, I asked a new question. “Had she picked out her fabric?”

  “Yes.” He narrowed his eyes again, thinking. “I’m sure I can find a sample of it.” He stood, but didn’t go anywhere. “Would you like me to get it?”

  “Yes.” The four of us responded in unison.

  “It’ll just take me a moment.” He left.

  I started checking things off on my fingers. “We need to talk to Finnoula. Then we need to speak to George about the tours, which I can do by myself since I also want to bring up restarting the tours.” I turned to Sin. “If there’s anything that would make your parents stay here more comfortable, then we should let Ezreal know immediately.”

  “They’re not high-maintenance people. Although my mother’s diet has some peculiarities—”

  “Brains?” Birdie whispered.

  He laughed softly. “No, she’s gluten-free.”

  “Oh.” Birdie shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  LeRoy came back with a garment bag slung over his arm. “I couldn’t find a small sample, but I’ve made a few dresses from the fabric, so I brought one of those. It’s not the most traditional bridal fabric, but as I recall that was what Rachel liked about it. I remember that of all the swatches I showed her, this was the one she fell in love with instantly.”

  A question popped into my head. “Would you have given her a sample of the fabric?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I looked at Larsen. “If Rachel had a sample, George could have gotten his hands on it.”

  She nodded. “Possible.” She glanced at LeRoy. “The dress?”

  He laid the garment bag over one of the chairs, then unzipped it, revealing the dress. “This is a retired design from my archives, but it’s the same fabric Rachel chose.”

  The dress was ivory shot through with pearl and silver threads. An exact match for the snippet of fabric Birdie had found in the carriage.

  “Son of a nutcracker.” This was not good. This felt like one more piece of evidence against LeRoy. Like whoever had wanted to frame him had known just how to do it.

  Larsen put her hands on her hips. “You’re positive that’s the fabric Rachel picked out?”

  LeRoy nodded with some hesitation. “Yes. Is there a problem?”

  “Just that it matches a scrap found with the remains.” Her shoulders went back a little. “This doesn’t help your case.”

  He shook his head, fear in his eyes. “Why would I do anything to hurt that girl? She was my client. And about to marry into the Bitterbark family. There’s no logical reason for me to do anything to stop that.”

  Larsen’s eyes narrowed. “I agree. Which is the main reason I’m not taking you in. Lack of motive. But you’re not to leave the NP, you understand?”

  I exhaled in relief.

  The fear left his gaze, and he lifted his chin in what could only be described as defiance. “Of course I understand. I wouldn’t leave anyway. I have far too much work to do on Princess Jayne’s wedding gown.”

  I smiled at his not-so-subtle reminder to the constable. I stood. “We’ll leave you to it, then, LeRoy. Thank you for your time. I know how valuable it is.”

  He bowed slightly. “For you, Your Highness, anything.” He cast a sideways glance at the constable, then gathered the garment bag and stalked off.

  I knew he was still a suspect, but I had to snicker to myself. LeRoy was a character, and I loved it. “All right, we should get going. Too much to do and too little time to do it in.”

  “Agreed,” Larsen said. “I’ll call Finnoula Bitterbark and set up a time to interview her.”

  “About that,” I started. “She might not see you.”

  “I’m the law. She doesn’t have a choice.”

  “Be that as it may, she’s not a well woman. We only got in to see her because my uncle’s secretary, Mamie, was with us, and Mamie is an old friend of hers.”

  “What are you proposing?”

  Nothing actually, but since Larsen had opened the door, I was walking through. “How about Birdie and I go see her again, with Mamie if need be? Then we’ll fill you in. That would free you up to follow whatever other leads you have.”

  Larsen seemed to ponder that for a moment. “That wouldn’t be official, though.”

  “It would be if you deputized Birdie. You had mentioned doing that when we first discovered the bones. You know with her experience, she’d be sure we get all the right questions answered.”

  The constable nodded. “I suppose that would be all right. If Miss Caruthers is agreeable.”

  Birdie stood up. “Certainly.”

  Larsen nodded at her. “Then I hereby deputize you in the name of the North Pole Department of Law. You’re authorized to conduct interviews in the Rachel Brightmoore case.” She put her hands on her hips. “And I expect to hear back from you as soon as your conversation with Finnoula is done.”

  “You got it,” Birdie said.

  “Absolutely,” I promised. “May I ask what you’ll be working on?”

  “I’m going to see George about why the tours were stopped and find out more about the dissolution of his engagement.”

  “Great. Then I guess we’ll both have information to share.”

  Sin, Birdie, and I didn’t waste another second, immediately getting back into the crawler and heading to the factory.

  I called Mamie on the way.

  “Santa’s office, Mamie speaking.”

  “Mamie, it’s Jayne. We need to speak to Finnoula again. Do you think she’ll be more responsive if you’re along, or do you think our tea with her was enough of an introduction that she’ll be friendly?”

  “I think she’ll be friendly. I genuinely believe she enjoyed our visit. And you’re the princess. She’s not going to refuse to see you.”

  “I realize that, but I want it to be on good terms.”

  “You’ll be fine without me. May I ask why you’re going to speak to her again? New developments?”

  I turned toward the Bitterbark’s since picking up Mamie was no longer necessary. “Yes. Finnoula made it possible for Rachel to see LeRoy about having a wedding dress made. He got as far as sewing a muslin sample for her to try. And she had fabric picked out. Fabric that matches a scrap found under her bones in the carriage.”

  Mamie made an unhappy sound. “That’s not good for LeRoy, is it?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help. I like LeRoy, and I don’t believe for a moment that he’s capable of murder. You know, he made my second and fourth wedding dresses? He’s such a talented man and just a lovely person.”

  “I agree. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks.” I hung up as we approached the Bitterbarks’ townhouse.

  I parked, and the three of us got out.

  Sin stayed by the crawler. “Are you sure you want me to go with you? She might not welcome a strange man into her home.”

  “You’re not exactly a strange ma
n. You’re about to become the Prince Consort. It’ll be fine.”

  “Come on,” Birdie said. “Besides, you saw Rachel’s visions. I’d be interested to know if what she showed you took place in this house. You won’t know unless you see it in person. Might give you some new insight into her murder too.”

  “Good point. I’m coming.” He walked with us to the door.

  I knocked and we waited.

  Elma answered again. She dipped into a curtsy. “Princess Jayne. What a nice surprise.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that since her thin smile didn’t reach her eyes, but I also realized our visits made extra work for her. “Hello, Elma. Birdie, Consort Sinclair, and I would like to speak to Finnoula for a few moments. Official business this time.”

  She nodded. “Certainly. I’ll let her know. She’s having lunch with George.” She opened the door wider. “Please come in.”

  “George is here?” I wasn’t expecting that, although I guessed it was later in the day than I realized.

  We entered, and she shut the door. “Yes, lunch is a little early today because he’s got meetings this afternoon. He never misses a lunch with his mother.”

  Was she trying to guilt me into leaving? I smiled with all the royal authority I could muster. “As much as I hate to intrude on their meal, I have questions for him as well.” I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t coming back at a later time. Too much was at stake.

  She almost frowned at me. “I’ll let them know.”

  “Very good.”

  She took off into another part of the house.

  Birdie leaned in. “Are you sure we should be interrupting?”

  “Yes. We need answers. And we’re getting them today.”

  Sin chuckled softly. “That’s my girl.”

  Elma returned shortly. “If you’ll please follow me.”

  She took us through the house and into the dining room. The entire house, while slightly dated, was warm and welcoming. It felt lived in, but in the best possible way. A family had been raised here.

  But then again, Rachel’s life had probably ended here.

  It was a sobering thought and one that steeled me for what lay ahead.

  Elma preceded us into the dining room. “Princess Jayne, Consort Sinclair, and Ms. Caruthers.”

 

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