by Sarah Fox
As Gilda and I moved farther into the ballroom, a server dressed in black and white paused before us, balancing a tray filled with flutes of champagne and sparkling water. I took a glass of champagne and Gilda opted for the sparkling water. We thanked the woman before she moved on to the next group of guests.
At the far end of the ballroom, a string quartet was on the stage, playing a Strauss waltz. The musicians were dressed like the guests, in formalwear and masks. Several couples moved around the dance floor, and all seemed to know what they were doing. I didn’t doubt that the dance floor would become more crowded as the evening progressed.
It didn’t take long for Aunt Gilda to spot Betty and her husband, Ted, in the growing crowd. I took the time to greet the couple before moving on. I’d noticed Shontelle and her mother, Yvette, entering the ballroom.
“This is incredible,” Shontelle said, when I reached them. They had both paused inside the door to take in the sight of the room and the decorations.
“It really is,” I agreed. “And you both look stunning.”
Shontelle’s deep red dress looked like it was custom made for her, and Yvette was elegant and sophisticated in her black gown with a simple black and gold mask to match.
“So do you,” Yvette said. “Shontelle told me your dress was amazing, but it’s even better than I imagined.”
“You definitely made the right choice,” Shontelle said.
I thanked them. I certainly felt good in my purple and silver dress. Almost like a princess.
Once we all had flutes of champagne in hand, Yvette wandered off to greet some friends while Shontelle and I made a slow circuit of the ballroom. We said hello to some acquaintances before stopping by one of the French doors that led out onto the patio. Colorful lanterns hung outside, and a handful of guests mingled out in the fresh air.
I’d already taken a few sips of champagne when I realized it would probably be best if I put some food in my stomach so the alcohol wouldn’t hit me too hard. I was about to suggest to Shontelle that we head over to the dining room to check out the hors d’oeuvres on offer, when a tall, blond man in a tux and black mask approached and addressed Shontelle.
“Ms. Williams, may I have this dance?”
“Absolutely,” she said. She offered him her hand and smoothly passed off her nearly empty champagne flute to me while giving me a quick wink.
I smiled and watched as she and her partner began to dance.
I hadn’t recognized the man until he’d spoken, probably because of his mask and the fact that I’d never seen Officer Eldon Howes of the Shady Creek Police Department in a tux. Most of my interactions with him had occurred while he was in uniform.
Another server passed by me, and I set Shontelle’s glass on his tray. Then I wandered out of the ballroom and into the corridor. I was about to head into the dining room when I caught a glimpse of a red-haired woman near the lobby. I didn’t know anyone in Shady Creek who had crinkly, bright orange hair like that other than Cordelia King.
Hoping to say hello to her, I followed the corridor to the lobby. Aside from the silver-haired couple entering the manor through the front doors, there was no one else around. Where had Cordelia disappeared to?
I crossed the lobby and peered down another hallway, but it was deserted. I did, however, hear a low murmur of voices coming from nearby.
I took a few steps farther along the hallway and was about to call out Cordelia’s name, when I recognized Brad Honeywell’s voice coming from behind a closed door.
“I found . . . in a box in the basement,” I heard him say as I paused outside the door.
I recognized Gemma’s voice next.
“. . . to the police,” she said.
That last word really caught my attention. I glanced behind me to make sure I was still alone in the hallway and then leaned closer to the door, hoping to pick up more words.
“Do you think it’s true?” Brad asked. His next words sounded like nothing more than a mumble to me.
I wished I had super hearing. Gemma’s next words were also too quiet for me to hear.
“We’ll do it after the guests are gone,” Brad said seconds later.
His voice was closer than it had been the last time he’d spoken.
“I’ll leave these here for now.” A rustle of paper followed Gemma’s words.
When I heard footsteps approaching the door, I spun around and quickly returned to the lobby, moving as quietly as I could in my heels. I’d just dashed out of sight of the hallway when I heard a door open and close.
Then another door did the same. I heard several voices, and a moment later Cordelia appeared in the lobby, followed by Brad and Gemma. The Honeywells smiled at me and Cordelia before heading down the corridor that led to the ballroom. Brad wore a suit and Gemma a deep blue evening gown. Both wore masks just like their guests.
“Hi, Sadie,” Cordelia greeted. “Isn’t the masquerade incredible?”
“It really is,” I agreed. “Were you off wandering?”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’d probably get lost if I did that. I just went to use the ladies’ room.” She looked me up and down. “Wow! You look like a beautiful fairy princess.”
I complimented her as well. She wore an emerald-green dress that went perfectly with her hair color, and a green and purple mask, decorated with fake jewels that glinted in the light from the lobby’s chandelier.
“I can’t wait to taste the food,” she said as we headed in that direction.
“You and me both.”
As we made our way into the dining room, I bumped shoulders with a woman on her way out.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I sidestepped, managing not to spill the remains of my champagne.
I wasn’t sure if she even heard me. She continued on her way out of the dining room without so much as glancing at me. She wasn’t anyone I recognized, and I didn’t think it was just because of the mask that covered most of her face. She was a couple of inches shorter than me and had straight black hair that hung loose and reached almost down to her waist. I couldn’t think of anyone I knew in town who matched that description.
Right behind the woman was the man in the creepy hawklike mask I’d seen earlier. He brushed past me and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw him put a hand to the woman’s lower back. The two of them disappeared into the ballroom.
Cordelia was already at the hors d’oeuvres table, so I quickly joined her.
“It’s too hard to choose,” Cordelia lamented, hovering by the table, an empty plate in her hands.
I sympathized. There had to be at least a dozen different hors d’oeuvres set out on the table, and each one looked absolutely scrumptious.
“What’s the chance that I can taste one of each without getting completely stuffed?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I nodded at the dessert table. “Don’t forget we need to save room to taste test some of those.”
“Good point,” Cordelia said. “Maybe I’ll try half a dozen for now. This party goes until midnight, so we have plenty of time to come back for another round.”
“True.”
I studied the selection. Each platter was accompanied by a small card to identify the dish. I set a cream cheese and prosciutto bite on my plate and then added a small pastry that resembled a spring roll but which, according to its card, contained Brie, mushrooms, and rosemary. I selected two other hors d’oeuvres and then sat down with Cordelia at a free table.
“Have you done any dancing yet?” I asked her.
“No,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not likely to get asked.”
“Don’t say that. Why wouldn’t someone ask you? And besides,” I added before she had a chance to respond, “you could always do the asking.”
“Oh, no. I couldn’t do that. I’d be setting myself up for rejection.”
“You don’t know that.”
“It doesn’t really matter, anyways,” she said before biting into one of the Brie-and-mushroom
pastries. After she’d polished it off, this time with a sigh of delight, she continued. “I’d probably just trample my partner’s feet.”
“You should have more confidence in yourself,” I said.
I didn’t have a chance to continue my pep talk, because Gilda, Betty, and Ted entered the dining room and swept over to our table. We exchanged a few words and then they gravitated toward the food table, returning a few minutes later to join us with full plates.
We chatted while we ate our snacks, but my mind kept wandering away from the topic of conversation. What had Brad and Gemma been talking about earlier? I wished I’d heard more. The gaps in the conversation left me frustrated. Maybe it was none of my business, but the fact that I’d heard them mention the police had set off my curiosity.
Were they hiding something from the police, or did they have some evidence to share with them?
I recalled that Gemma had said she’d leave something in the room until after the party.
Whatever it was, I knew I should forget about it and enjoy the masquerade.
I also knew that would be impossible.
By the time I’d polished off the last hors d’oeuvre on my plate, I’d made up my mind. Before returning to the ballroom, I was going to do a bit of snooping.
Chapter 29
I told the others I needed to use the restroom. Fortunately, no one seemed suspicious and I made a clean getaway. Almost.
Out in the corridor, I headed for the lobby, but halted after only a few steps when I heard someone call out my name in a low voice. When I glanced over my shoulder, Gina waved to me. She stood with the door marked STAFF ONLY pushed open halfway. I quickly backtracked so I could talk to her.
“Is it busy in the kitchen tonight?” I asked her.
“I’ll say. I’ve got a five-minute break, but then I need to get back to it.”
“The desserts look amazing,” I told her. “I can’t wait to try them.”
She smiled. “I hope you’ll like them.”
Still standing with the door half open, she shot a quick glance behind her, toward the kitchen.
“Any news on the murder investigation?” she asked.
“Not on my end,” I replied.
Although there had been some developments, I didn’t want to bring up Karidee’s name. I figured there wasn’t any point in doing that anyway, since she’d been cleared of suspicion by the police.
I decided to turn the question back on Gina. “Have you heard anything?”
She shook her head with a frown. “There’s gossip flying around, of course, but mostly the same old rumors and speculation. Everyone’s on edge. A couple of people have even quit because they’re too scared to keep working here.”
“Really?” I supposed I couldn’t blame them. “Does that leave you short-staffed in the kitchen?”
“Fortunately not, otherwise tonight would be even crazier. It was two housekeepers who quit, Connie and Miranda. And I get it. After all, they wander around upstairs on their own, going in and out of rooms. Plenty of opportunity for the killer to creep up on them.”
She shuddered, and I almost did the same. Then my mind caught up to what she’d said.
“Connie quit?”
“This morning,” Gina confirmed. “It’s left the Honeywells in a bit of a lurch. Neither housekeeper gave any notice.”
“I know Connie’s husband was worried about her staying on here.”
Gina startled at the sound of voices coming from somewhere behind her.
“I’d better go,” she said quickly. “Enjoy the party!”
Before I had the chance to say goodbye, she disappeared, the door falling shut and latching with a click.
I waited while a gaggle of masked party guests crossed from the ballroom to the dining room, and then I resumed my previous quest, passing through the lobby before creeping along the corridor where I’d eavesdropped earlier.
When I reached the door, I paused with my hand on the knob. My heart thudded in my chest and I had sudden second thoughts. I didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to snooping without getting caught. But what if Gemma and Brad were concealing a crucial piece of evidence? I had to find out.
Still, when I turned the knob, half of me hoped the door would be locked, so I’d be forced to go back to the ballroom and enjoy an evening of partying without putting myself at risk of being found where I didn’t belong. I wasn’t sure if my luck was good or bad when the door opened easily.
I froze with one foot across the threshold. I thought I’d heard a noise in the lobby. Footsteps, possibly, but when I strained to hear anything further, all that met my ears was the distant music and low hum of conversation coming from the party.
Not giving myself another chance to hesitate, I slipped into the room, closing the door all but a crack behind me. The shaft of light coming through the narrow opening allowed me to see that I was in an office with a large wooden desk sitting in the middle of the room and several filing cabinets along one wall. I flicked on the desk lamp instead of the overhead light, worried that too much light might show beneath the door, even though the hallway outside was lit.
Now that I had light to see by, I quietly pushed the door closed until it latched. I stood by the desk, surveying the room. Aside from a blotter and the lamp, the only things on the top of the desk were a stapler, a plastic dish of paperclips, and a canister stuffed with pens and pencils. There were two drawers on either side, plus a long, shallow one that ran the width of the desk. I tugged at that one first, but it didn’t budge.
I tried another drawer, and it opened with ease. I rifled through the contents, but it didn’t hold anything of interest. Just some unused file folders and a stack of plain white paper for the printer that sat on top of one of the filing cabinets across the room. Sliding that drawer shut, I moved on to the next one. Again, it held nothing of interest. I checked the remaining two with the same result.
As far as I could tell, there was nothing in those drawers that could in any possible way be related to the crimes that had recently occurred at the manor. Maybe I was way off base and the Honeywells had been talking about something completely unrelated to the murder and assault, but I had a hard time believing that.
Not wanting to linger too long in the office, I moved on to the filing cabinets, quietly sliding each drawer open in turn. I flipped quickly through the collection of files, but if the papers I’d heard rustling before had been hidden away in one of the folders, I didn’t have much chance of identifying it, unless I wanted to go through each and every one. Taking that much time to search would put me at too much risk of getting caught.
Even though I knew it was pointless, I tugged at the shallow top drawer of the desk again. It still didn’t budge. I scrunched up my nose in frustration, but then my gaze fell on the dish of paperclips.
I didn’t know how to pick a lock, but it never seemed that difficult on TV. I figured it was worth giving it a shot, at least.
I reached for a paperclip, and then froze with my hand hovering over the dish. Footsteps approached the office. Quiet ones, but I still heard them. My heart nearly stumbled to a stop.
Turn off the light! I silently screamed at myself.
But I didn’t have a chance.
Before I could even reach the lamp, the knob turned and the door swung open.
Chapter 30
My panicked brain scrambled to come up with an excuse for why I was standing in a room where I clearly shouldn’t have been.
“I was looking for the washroom!” I blurted out as a masked man stepped into the room.
Eyebrows rose above the black Zorro-type mask.
Relief rushed through me, almost making my knees weak. I would have recognized the man’s blue eyes anywhere.
“That’s the best you could come up with?” Grayson asked, amused.
I shushed him and grabbed his arm, pulling him farther into the room while I used my free hand to push the door shut.
“How did y
ou know I was in here?” I asked in a whisper. “And what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be out of town. When did you get back and why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
I bit down on my lower lip, wondering if maybe he hadn’t told me because he’d come to the masquerade with another woman.
“I saw you sneaking off, I was hoping to dance with you, I got back two hours ago, and I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, answering all my questions in one go.
“Oh.” I digested that information. “But I wasn’t sneaking.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, fine,” I relented. “I was definitely sneaking.” I touched a hand to my mask. “How did you recognize me?”
“The red hair sort of gives it away. And your . . . Sadie-ness.” He grinned at me in a way that made my stomach do a backflip. “Plus, there’s your freckles.”
From the light in his eyes, I knew he was laughing silently. At me? At my freckles?
“I happen to like my freckles,” I said, on the defensive.
His gaze held mine. “So do I.”
Heat spread through my chest and my cheeks.
“What are you looking for?”
His question jolted me back to reality. For a second, I’d forgotten where I was and why.
As succinctly as possible, I told him about the conversation I’d partially overheard between the Honeywells.
“But I haven’t found anything of interest,” I said. “The top desk drawer is locked, but now that you’re here, you can pick it.”
I knew from past experience that he could.
“Please?” I added.
Instead of responding, Grayson put a hand on my wrist and switched off the desk lamp in one swift motion. He tugged me over to the wall next to the door, so I was standing with my back pressed up against his chest.
“What are you doing?” I asked, startled.