by Sarah Fox
Before I could get a word in, or figure out what she was on about, she strode off, thrusting flyers at other unsuspecting shoppers.
After moving out of the way of a group of half a dozen women—tourists, I guessed, judging by the number of photos they were taking—I got my first good look at Eleanor’s flyer.
The bold letters at the top of the sheet echoed Eleanor’s words: SAY NO TO ADVERTISING OUR TOWN AS A DEN OF INIQUITY.
Below that, what could only be described as a brief rant detailed Eleanor’s opinion that having Shady Creek featured in an episode of Craft Nation would lead to the town’s moral demise. She wanted the citizens of Shady Creek to band together to demand that the television network cancel the episode focused on the Spirit Hill Brewery. A meeting would take place that evening at the town hall, in an attempt to rally the troops, so to speak.
Was she serious?
Apparently so, I realized as I watched her make her way through the crowd of shoppers, shoving flyers into the hands of every person she passed.
I was tempted to crumple the flyer in my fist, but I stopped myself. It might be a good idea for me to attend the meeting at the town hall. It didn’t slip my notice that Eleanor had scheduled it for a time when Grayson was out of town and unable to stand up in defense of his brewery and the show.
How Eleanor could think that the episode would ruin Shady Creek, I didn’t know. I firmly believed it would benefit the town. By giving Grayson’s brewery and Shady Creek exposure across the country, the episode would most likely drive more tourists here, and that was a good thing for all us local business owners.
I hoped Eleanor wouldn’t have any support for her crazy idea, but the best way to find out would be to attend the meeting. I also figured it would be a good idea to contact Grayson and let him know what was going on. He wouldn’t be able to make it to the meeting himself, but he might want to send one of his staff members to represent the brewery.
Folding the flyer haphazardly, I shoved it into my shopping bag and headed for the farm fresh eggs. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps when I spotted Harriet Jones standing next to a stall selling handmade soaps. Harriet was a real firecracker of a senior citizen and a member of the Inkwell’s romance book club. She had one of the flyers in her hand and was shaking her head at Eleanor’s retreating back.
“Eleanor is off her rocker, if you ask me,” Harriet said as I approached her. She waved the flyer. “Did you get one of these?”
“I sure did,” I said. “Does she really believe the Craft Nation episode will be a bad thing for the town?”
“I’m sure she believes it like she believes the sun will rise tomorrow.” Harriet crumpled up her flyer. “She’s always been an odd one.” She tossed the ball of paper into a nearby recycling bin.
“You’ve known her a long time?”
“My whole life. We went to school together.”
Somehow I couldn’t picture Eleanor Grimes as a little girl, although obviously she had been at one point. I wondered if she’d always had a sour disposition.
“Getting some shopping done?” Harriet asked, changing the subject.
“My fridge was in a sorry state,” I said, “but I’m remedying that.”
“Have you tried the salted maple butter popcorn? I never can leave the market without at least one bag of it.”
“I haven’t.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Harriet hooked an arm through mine and propelled me to a nearby stand selling various types of popcorn in red and white paper bags.
Samples of different flavors sat in a row on the table. Harriet didn’t bother with the samples, immediately handing over some money for a large bag of the salted maple butter popcorn. She opened it right away.
I decided to try one kernel of each flavor on offer. I started with the salted maple butter, and my eyes widened as soon as the piece of popcorn hit my tongue.
“See,” Harriet said. “Can’t pass that up, can you?”
“Definitely not.”
I tested the other flavors, one by one. All were delicious, although I found the blue and pink cotton candy popcorn a tad too sweet for my taste. My favorite flavor was the maple butter one, followed by the white cheddar and the sour cream and chives. I purchased a small bag of the maple butter popcorn and opened it to munch on it, just as Harriet had with hers.
“If I end up addicted to this stuff, I’m holding you responsible,” I warned.
Harriet let out a cackle of laughter. “I’ll welcome you to the club with open arms.”
She walked with me as I meandered toward the farm fresh eggs.
“So, what’s your take on the recent crimes at the Shady Creek Manor?” she asked me. “And don’t let me down here. You know you’re our resident Nancy Drew.”
I smiled at that, even though I probably was about to let her down. “I wish I knew who was responsible, but every time I dig for information, I seem to end up with more questions than answers.”
I drew to a halt near the stall selling the eggs. Harriet had lived in Shady Creek all her life. I didn’t know her exact age, but I figured she was at least in her mid-seventies, despite her seemingly endless energy.
“Do you know anything about Edwin Vallencourt?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied. “He was still alive when I was a kid.” She sent me a sidelong glance as she dug another handful of popcorn out of her bag. “I hope you’re not thinking his ghost is the killer.”
“Nothing quite that crazy,” I assured her. “But I am wondering if the crimes are somehow related to the stories about his hidden treasure.”
Harriet made a dismissive sound. “Vallencourt’s hidden treasure is probably as real as the tooth fairy.”
“You don’t think it exists? Why not?”
“Eddie was a real character and he loved attention. It wouldn’t surprise me if he made up the story himself to create intrigue.”
“It might not matter if it doesn’t really exist,” I said. “If some people believe it does . . .”
“Then they might think it’s worth killing over?” Harriet shrugged. “If I’ve learned anything in this long life of mine, it’s that people will do crazy things for crazy reasons.” She munched on some popcorn before continuing. “You know, when I was little, I was in awe of that place.”
“The manor?”
“Yep. People used to whisper about what went on there. Most of it I wasn’t supposed to hear, but that never did stop me from listening in.”
With my history, I couldn’t fault her for that.
“I heard there used to be a lot of parties there in Vallencourt’s day,” I said.
“There sure were. Wild ones, from all accounts. Eddie had plenty of rich and famous friends who’d come to visit. Sometimes the parties would last days. And Eddie was a real ladies’ man. A bit of a swindler too, if you believe the rumors.”
“If you believe the lies!” Eleanor’s voice startled us both. “Lies perpetuated by gossipmongers such as yourself, Harriet Jones.”
Eleanor turned on her heel and marched off.
It took another second for the surprise to leave Harriet’s face, but then she laughed. “I never will understand that woman.”
“Why does she care what people say about Edwin Vallencourt?” I asked.
Harriet shook her head. “Beats me. I don’t get it. She’s usually Miss Prim and Proper. I’d have thought she’d disapprove of someone like Vallencourt, given his reputation, which, by the way, was very much deserved.”
“Sometimes I think she disapproves of everyone,” I said. “She’s certainly not a fan of me.”
“I’d wear that as a badge of honor,” Harriet said with another laugh. She sobered after a brief moment. “I feel a bit sorry for her, though. If you ask me, she’s full of a lot of anger, maybe even fear.”
“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Who knows? But if she had any reason to kill someone, I’d say watch out.”
That really got my attention
. “Why do you say that?”
“She has a temper, that one. When we were teenagers, one of our classmates insinuated that Eleanor might have been conceived before her parents were married. Eleanor flew into a rage. Tore a whole handful of the other girl’s hair out. Nearly got suspended from school, though it didn’t come to that in the end.”
“Yikes,” I said.
If it hadn’t been for Eleanor’s alibi, I would have underlined her name on my suspect list.
“Anyway,” Harriet continued, “don’t worry about Eleanor not liking you. That just means you’re on the same list as the rest of us in this town.”
As Harriet and I parted ways a moment later, I decided to do my best to forget about Eleanor until the meeting at the town hall. First, however, I sent Grayson a text message, letting him know what Eleanor was up to and telling him that I’d be at the meeting. I didn’t expect an immediate response, and I didn’t get one. He was probably at one of his business meetings.
I ate another handful of delicious popcorn before forcing myself to tuck the bag away. As I headed over to buy some eggs, I wished I’d thought to bring a travel mug of coffee with me. There was regular coffee available for purchase at the farmers’ market, but I decided that what I really wanted was a mocha latte.
I purchased a dozen farm fresh eggs, carefully placing the carton at the bottom of my shopping bag, and headed out of the park in the direction of the Village Bean. If I was going to get through the day—and an evening spent in Eleanor’s company—I was going to need a good dose of caffeine and chocolate.
Chapter 24
When I got back to the center of town, I was so hungry that I initially bypassed the coffee shop and went straight home. I decided to have my omelet for breakfast the next day and instead scarfed down the scrumptious cinnamon roll I’d bought at the farmers’ market. Wimsey tried to tell me that he was starving and hadn’t eaten in days, but when I wouldn’t believe him, he gave one last unimpressed meow and sauntered out of the apartment through his cat door. I knew I’d get back in his good books when I fed him dinner at the end of the day.
Maybe a cinnamon roll and a mocha latte didn’t make the healthiest of breakfasts, but that didn’t stop me from heading over to the Village Bean as soon as I finished eating my treat.
I was so intent on getting my drink that I didn’t notice Karidee until after I had my latte in hand. She was tucked away at the back of the coffee shop this time, once again typing away on her laptop. I hesitated, remembering Detective Marquez’s warning to leave the investigating to her, but the magnetic pull of my curiosity was too strong to ignore. Karidee had certainly been up to something at Shady Creek Manor. I wanted to know if that something was as nefarious as murder.
With a firm grip on my latte, I approached the young woman’s table.
“Morning, Karidee,” I said. “Mind if I join you for a minute?”
She barely had a chance to glance up from her laptop before I plunked myself down in the seat opposite her.
“Um, I’m kind of busy,” she said.
“I won’t keep you long,” I assured her. “I just wondered how much you know about Shady Creek Manor and its history.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Why?”
“I think it’s a fascinating place, and I’ve seen you hanging around there a few times, so I thought maybe you had an interest in it too.”
Karidee’s cheeks turned pink and she stared at her laptop’s keypad. “I’m not really interested in the place. I was there . . . just because.”
“Oh, wait,” I said as if I’d suddenly remembered something. “You were there because Linnea Bliss was staying at the manor.”
The pink in her cheeks brightened. “Not really,” she mumbled.
I pretended I hadn’t heard her. “I’m a big fan of hers too.”
“You’re lucky you got to meet her.”
“I thought you did too,” I said. “At the pub.”
Karidee shut her laptop. For the first time since I sat down, she seemed to be warming up to the conversation. “Sure, but that was only for a few seconds. I didn’t really get to talk to her. You probably got to hang out with her.”
“I had tea with her at the manor, and lunch the next day. And I do count myself lucky. She’s not just a great author; she’s also a really nice person.”
“I didn’t get to find that out,” Karidee said with a frown. “Her assistant wouldn’t let me talk to her.”
“You mean Marcie Kent? She was pretty protective of Linnea.”
“Ridiculously so,” she grumbled. “All I wanted was a few minutes of her time. All I wanted was to ask her . . .” Her cheeks flushed again.
“Ask her what?” I prompted.
“You’ll think I’m dumb,” she said quietly.
“I doubt that.”
She put a hand on her closed laptop. “I’m . . . I’m writing a book.”
“That’s so cool,” I said, genuinely impressed. “What genre?”
She didn’t meet my gaze. “Contemporary romance.”
“Is that why you wanted to talk to Linnea Bliss? You wanted some writing advice?”
“I wanted to ask if she’d read my opening pages. That’s all I wanted. But her assistant kept chasing me off like I was a stalker!”
“That must have been frustrating,” I said, hoping I sounded sympathetic. “What about after Marcie died? Did you try to see Linnea again? Is that why you were at the manor yesterday?”
Karidee squished her lips to one side and hesitated, as if trying to decide if she should come clean. “I thought if I could find out which room she was in, I could leave a note for her in her mailbox. I waited outside until Mrs. Honeywell left the lobby, but I didn’t have a chance to leave my note.”
“Because I came in and interrupted you.”
She nodded.
“That must have added to your frustration,” I said. “With Marcie out of the way, you probably thought you’d have your chance to contact Linnea.”
“By then, Mrs. Honeywell didn’t want me around, either, but I thought if I left my contact information in my note, maybe Ms. Bliss would get back to me.”
I wondered how much I could push her. “It was really important to you to talk to her, wasn’t it? It must have made you mad when Marcie kept trying to stop you. Did you fight with her?”
Her eyes widened. “No!” She quickly lowered her voice. “You think I killed her? I didn’t! I didn’t touch her!”
Even though she was whispering, she sounded on the verge of panic.
“You were there on the day she died,” I pointed out. “And again yesterday when someone attacked Jan Finch.”
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her eyes got even bigger. “I didn’t hurt anyone! I don’t even know Jan Finch. I mean, I know who she is, but I don’t know her.”
She had a point there. I couldn’t think of a reason why she’d attack Jan, unless she was lying about why she kept visiting the manor. Somehow, though, I thought she was telling the truth.
Karidee’s eyes filled with tears. “I swear I didn’t hurt anyone. I just wanted some help with my writing. I really want to get my book published when it’s finished.”
“I believe you,” I said, and I did. Maybe she had me completely fooled, but I didn’t think so.
She sniffled and the tears welling in her eyes subsided.
“You know how the Inkwell hosts book clubs?” I asked.
The sudden change of subject threw her off for a second. “Yes . . .”
“I was thinking of hosting a writers’ group as well.”
She brightened. “Really?”
“I don’t know how many people would want to join, but I thought I’d put the word out and see. Would you be interested?”
“I totally would!” She smiled for the first time since I’d joined her at the table. “None of my friends are interested in writing. It would be nice to meet some people who are.”
I woke up my phone and hande
d it over to her. “If you give me your email address, I’ll let you know if it goes ahead.”
She eagerly provided her contact information, and then I got up to go.
“Good luck with your writing,” I said, meaning it sincerely.
By the time I was on my way out the door, she was already back to typing away furiously.
* * *
Shortly after I opened the Inkwell for the day, Aunt Gilda showed up. When I greeted her with a hug, I didn’t fail to notice that her smile wasn’t quite as bright as usual. She sat down at a table by one of the windows, and I pulled out a chair to join her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I sat down. Worry shot through me. “Are you having second thoughts about your decision?”
“Not at all,” she said, patting my hand. “I’m here to stay.”
I smiled with relief. “I’m glad to hear it.” My smile faded as I studied her face. “But something’s wrong.”
She sighed. “I ran into Louie at the grocery store. It was . . . difficult. I never wanted to hurt the poor man, but I did. I think it pained him to see me again.”
My heart ached with sympathy for her. “I’m sorry.” I took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
She returned the pressure and let out another sigh. “He’s moving next month. It’s probably for the best that he’s going so soon. It’ll make it easier for both of us to move on.”
Hopefully that was true.
“Why don’t I get you a drink?” I offered.
“Thank you, honey, but I can’t stay.” She got up from the table. “I’ve got another client in ten minutes. I just wanted to stop by and see your lovely face.”
“I’m glad you did.”
She pulled me into another hug. “See you tomorrow, all right?”
“Definitely.”
Aunt Gilda was going to do my hair for the masquerade. I could hardly believe that the day of the event was almost upon us. Gilda would be going too, without a date, just like me and Shontelle. I hoped the event would provide her with a happy distraction.
When I checked my phone in the middle of the afternoon, I had a text message from Grayson, thanking me for the information about Eleanor’s crusade and letting me know that someone from the brewery would attend the meeting at the town hall. He mentioned that he’d checked into Brad Honeywell’s background but hadn’t found anything of interest. Another dead end in the investigation.