Reserved for Murder

by Victoria Gilbert

  Before heading inside myself, I surveyed the newly swept patio and my picket-fence-enclosed cottage garden. Everything looked clean and tidy and ready for company. Close enough for government work anyway, I thought, as I strolled toward Chapters’s back porch.

  Ironic, given Ellen’s former occupation.

  I allowed the flower basket to swing from my forearm as I climbed the few concrete steps that led to the porch’s screened door, still mulling over my elderly neighbor’s past.

  Ellen might have been a government employee, but I doubted she’d ever followed the maxim of doing the minimum, as that old adage implied. She couldn’t have been nonchalant or sloppy in her work, I thought, smiling grimly as I pushed open the door. Not if she wanted to escape unfortunate consequences.

  Chapter Two

  I finished the flower arrangements just in time to grab a shower and change into a pair of black linen slacks and a white silk top, attire I felt was more appropriate for greeting guests. Of course, Amanda and Tony had met me in my gardening clothes, but I figured that was a trade-off for allowing them to arrive early.

  After welcoming the other guests—three women ranging in age from late twenties to early forties who were so busy chatting that they barely acknowledged me—I decided to check on the preparations for the evening’s cocktail party.

  “Is that you, Charlotte?” called out Alicia Simpson, Chapters’s live-in housekeeper and cook.

  “Yes, just settled the other guests in their rooms,” I replied, allowing my gaze to wander as I entered my expansive kitchen.

  Although the original portion of Chapters had been built as a private home in the early eighteenth century, it had been extensively renovated over the years, including a nineteenth- century addition that housed extra bedrooms, bathrooms, and a kitchen. Upgrading the kitchen to a professional standard was the last major renovation, done just before the death of my great-aunt Isabella Harrington. Fortunately, Isabella, who’d bequeathed the bed-and-breakfast to me three years ago, had made sure the new kitchen retained the historic style of the original home. White cabinets, some sporting mullioned glass fronts, were fitted with black iron hardware that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Revolutionary War–era home. The ceiling soared up to twelve feet, allowing tall windows to be inset into one pearl-gray wall. On a bright day, the light spilling through the windows danced across the white subway tile, dark gray soapstone counters, and stainless-steel appliances. Off to one side, French doors led to a large pantry that housed metal shelving, a standing freezer, and our commercial-grade dishwasher.

  Alicia turned away from one of the counters to face me. “Guess those are the fans, then? I greeted the early birds, but I expect you know that, since I saw you chatting with them outside.”

  “Thanks again for doing that. I really wanted to create a fresh arrangement for tonight’s cocktail party, and I’m afraid time got away from me.” I examined Alicia, surprised to observe a bright glint in her dark eyes. It seemed she was interested in this particular group of guests, which wasn’t always the case. Sometimes I thought she’d prefer to have Chapters to herself, although that was obviously not financially possible.

  A short, plump woman in her early sixties, Alicia had worked for my great-aunt for many years before I had inherited Chapters. Pete and Sandy Nelson, who owned the Dancing Dolphin café in Beaufort, always claimed I’d inherited Alicia along with the B and B. I suppose that was true, in a way, although it wasn’t a sentiment I liked to repeat out loud. Although I admitted that Alicia was integral to the success of Chapters, she was a person, not some object my great-aunt could pass down, as she had the extensive collection of books that filled Chapters’s library and guest rooms.

  “Almost done with the hors d’oeuvres.” Alicia waved a paring knife in the direction of several colorful platters of food. “Tried to add in a little more flair than usual. It’s not often we host such a famous author.”

  “I appreciate the extra effort. It is rather a coup for Chapters,” I said, as Alicia laid down her knife and wiped her hands on the apron covering her black cotton dress. “We have Julie to thank for that, you know. She orchestrated all the arrangements once Ms. Nobel agreed to participate in an event hosted by Bookwaves.”

  “All I can say is it’s a nice change. Amanda Nobel is someone I’d actually like to talk to.” Alicia’s dark brown eyes narrowed. “Although it’s strange she’d allow those fans to stay here too, since she wants to keep her presence in Beaufort a secret. Seems like that’s a perfect recipe for the news spilling out to everyone and their cousins.”

  “Tony Lott, the man managing the tour, said these fans had won some sort of contest put on by the publisher. Getting to stay at the same B and B as their idol was their prize. And it’s not like we have to keep Ms. Nobel’s presence an absolute secret. We just don’t want to broadcast that she’s staying here for a week, especially to her fans who are attending the event tomorrow.” I examined Alicia with interest. “You seem more than usually pleased that Ms. Nobel is staying at Chapters. Have you read her books?”

  Alicia tucked a couple of silver-streaked black curls up under the band of her hairnet. “Well, sure. Hasn’t everyone?”

  “Not me. I just finished the first one, and that was mainly so I’d have some context when I talked to her.”

  Alicia snorted. “What? Not highbrow enough for you? I know you were an English teacher before coming to Beaufort, but I didn’t realize you were that picky about books.”

  “I’m not.” Hearing the sharp edge to my tone, I offered Alicia an apologetic smile. “It’s just that I never got around to reading her books when they first came out. Now there are so many, and they’re each so long … Honestly, I just haven’t felt like I had the time to commit to the series.”

  “I like them. Good escape from real life, if you know what I mean. Who doesn’t enjoy an exciting tale about a time-traveling pirate, especially one as hot as that Adrian character? But, to be perfectly honest”—Alicia cast me a knowing look—“I like the TV show better.”

  “Because you can actually watch the sexy pirate in action?” I asked, with a lift of my eyebrows. I’d only seen snippets of the popular series but had to admit that the cast was exceptionally good-looking, especially the actor who played the time-traveling pirate, Adrian Ashford.

  “Doesn’t hurt,” Alicia said, before turning back to the cutting board and vigorously slicing a green pepper. “But don’t worry. I’ve followed orders. Not even a whisper to anyone that Amanda Nobel is staying at Chapters. Not that my family and friends are the type to stalk an author, but I know how word can get around.”

  “Thank you. It was her only special request. Apparently, she’s in the middle of a grueling nationwide book tour. She’s looking for somewhere quiet to rest for a week between engagements.”

  “Beaufort is pretty laid back, but I expect her fans will pack that event tomorrow.”

  “Which is fine, since that’s part of her public tour schedule. It’s just this week’s other events that are limited to our guests and the local book club. It’s also why I asked Damian to help with the food prep for the reception,” I said, not surprised when Alicia’s lips visibly tightened. She wasn’t particularly fond of the young freelance chef I sometimes hired for special events. “But tomorrow’s meet-and-greet is on Ms. Nobel’s appearance calendar, so she expects people to show up. That’s different than telling everyone she’s actually staying in Beaufort for the week, rather than just driving in for one special event.”

  “I reckon.” Alicia’s knife expertly dissected a red pepper. “Must be quite an achievement for Julie Rivera, getting Amanda Nobel to do anything associated with her little shop.”

  I nodded, remembering how ecstatic Julie had been when Amanda Nobel had agreed to appear at an event sponsored by an indie bookstore in a small town. Even though Julie had applied to be part of the nationwide tour, she’d never expected to be chosen. “She thinks it may have something to do with th
e fact that Ms. Nobel’s series is based around a pirate, and Beaufort does have a strong connection to pirate history.” I shrugged. “It was actually Julie who suggested that Ms. Nobel and the others stay at Chapters. Since we didn’t have any other events scheduled for this week, it worked out.” I tapped my temple with one finger. “And I did think to ask a little more than usual for the rooms, especially since we agreed to keep Ms. Nobel’s location under wraps.”

  Alicia glanced over her shoulder. “Smart thinking. See, you’re learning.”

  Not able to come up with an appropriate response to that jibe, I simply made a noncommittal noise before heading into the pantry.

  * * *

  After ensuring that the wine, beer, and liquor supplies were in order for the cocktail party, I wandered back out into the hall, thinking I should look over the set-up in the front parlor, which functioned as a music room as well as a space for indoor receptions.

  But before I could reach the parlor, voices drew me to the library.

  The room, its walls covered with cabinets and shelves, held the largest portion of Isabella’s extensive book collection. I often led book discussions or related events there, but while it was a large library for a personal home, the space couldn’t accommodate a crowd. Which was why Saturday’s event was being held outside—the author talk and question and answer segment on the front lawn, and the reception on the back patio.

  As I stepped into the library, I noticed that three of the library chairs had been pulled around to form a semicircular seating arrangement on the Persian rug that covered the middle of the floor. With their focus on their own conversation, the three seated women didn’t notice me. I tugged down the hem of my blouse as I paused in the doorway, examining them.

  They were a study in contrasts. The oldest of the group, Lisette Bradford, was the forty-year-old head of a major Amanda Nobel fan club. Or so she’d informed me when she’d checked in. Tall and thin, Lisette wore her light brown hair in a pixie cut that accentuated the hollows of her face. Her glasses, with their round lenses and vivid purple frames, added to this effect.

  The other two women were both younger. Harper Gregg, who was in her late twenties, had the slender but muscular build of a gymnast, black hair that spilled like a silky veil to her waist, and light eyes. Thirty-something Molly Zeleski was Harper’s opposite—her figure was all soft curves, her eyes a vibrant brown, and her frizzy blonde hair cut in a shoulder-length bob.

  “Well, you know Tony isn’t really Amanda’s choice for a companion,” Molly said, her blonde curls bouncing as she tossed her head. “He works for her publisher in publicity or something and was assigned to manage the tour.”

  “You mean, to manage Amanda,” Lisette said, with a lift of her penciled eyebrows.

  Molly grimaced. “That’s not very nice.”

  “Accurate, though. He has his work cut out for him. Amanda isn’t always the easiest person to be around, from what I’ve seen,” Lisette said.

  “You’ve met her in person before?” Harper gripped the wooden arms of her chair.

  “Of course, as part of the …” Lisette paused, cutting off whatever she’d started to say. “At events. As the head of her biggest fan club, that’s to be expected.” Lisette’s knowing smile and smug tone were grating, even to me.

  The other two women shared a look, betraying that they were as unified in their dislike for Lisette Bradford as they were in their love for Amanda Nobel’s books.

  I cleared my throat, loudly. “Hello there. I hope you found your rooms to be satisfactory.”

  “Oh, hello, Ms. Reed. And yes, definitely.” Harper Gregg slid around in her chair to look at me. “I love the décor in the Romance Suite, and of course all those books on the shelves are a great bonus.”

  “Please, call me Charlotte. And I hope you don’t mind that you have to share with Ms. Zeleski. We only have so many rooms, and of course Ms. Nobel and Mr. Lott had to have separate accommodations. There is the carriage house, but I prefer to rent that out to more long-term guests.”

  “It’s fine,” Harper said, with a wave of her slender hand. “I plan to use the room mainly for sleeping anyway. Too many other things I want to do during the day.” She met my inquisitive gaze with a smile. “You can call me Harper, by the way.”

  Molly jumped up and circled around to stand behind her chair. “I actually live in Morehead City, which is just a hop and a skip over the bridge from here. So if there’s a real problem”—she cast a glance at Harper—“I could just sleep at home and drive in each day.”

  Harper combed her fingers through her silky dark hair. “Don’t be silly. Part of our prize was getting free lodging. Honestly, I don’t mind sharing. Like I said, I’m not planning to hang out in the room much.”

  As I met her steady gaze, I couldn’t help but notice Harper’s eyes. Fringed by thick black lashes, they were an unusual shade of pale gray, so light they appeared almost colorless. “I thought it was best to give you two the Romance Suite, which is actually the largest of our guest rooms and has the extra bed.”

  “That seems incongruous for a romantic suite,” Molly said, arching her pale eyebrows.

  “Well, the reference is to the books shelved in the room, not that it’s designed for honeymooners or anything like that. All of our rooms feature decorations and books that highlight specific genres. Ms. Nobel is in the Mystery Suite, and Mr. Todd has the Classics Room, and so on.”

  “Children’s Room for me,” Lisette said, waving her hand through the air. “Very quaint, although not exactly what I’d prefer.”

  Harper shot her a sharp glance. “Are the books in the rooms part of your great-aunt’s original collection as well as the ones in here?”

  “Most of them, and you’re welcome to examine or read anything, although I do ask that you avoid the top shelves in the library. The rolling ladder is required to reach those, and I prefer that my guests not break any limbs. I’ll pull any of them for you if you ask.” I hoped my smile conveyed concern rather than a warning. The truth was, I kept the rarest books on the top shelves. Many were fragile, and a few were quite valuable. I preferred to retrieve those rather than allow my guests free access.

  Molly gripped the back of her chair with one hand, her hazel eyes widening. “You said Amanda was already here, right? I can’t wait to meet her. I’ve been a fan ever since she published The Tides of Time twelve years ago. I was still in college when it came out. I remember missing an important exam because I got so caught up in reading.”

  Harper nodded. “I was only sixteen. Still in high school, and not really a reader at that point. But then some of my friends introduced me to Tides and I became absolutely obsessed.”

  Lisette rose to her feet with a languid grace that made me wonder if she’d ever been trained as a dancer. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head to my room and freshen up before the cocktail party. I also need to check on some fan club business before tomorrow.” She pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her narrow nose. “And there’s always the writing to manage, too.”

  “That’s seven,” Molly muttered, giving me a wink when I cast her a confused look.

  “Don’t forget the cocktail party starts soon,” I said, as Lisette strolled past me. “In the parlor, which is the adjacent room, closer to the front door. We hope to see you then, Ms. Bradford.”

  “Lisette,” she called over her shoulder as she sailed out of the room.

  “She just has to mention her own writing at every opportunity, doesn’t she?” Molly flopped down in the chair next to Harper. “I kept a count and that was the seventh time just this afternoon.”

  “Does she write?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  Harper shrugged. “She’s put out a lot of fan fiction based on Amanda’s books.”

  “It’s pretty popular,” Molly said. “Although there has been some controversy …”

  “Let’s not bore Ms. Reed—I mean Charlotte—with that.” Harper pressed both her hands forward agai
nst the air, as if stopping a reversing vehicle. She looked up at me, her pale eyes shadowed by her dark lashes. “It’s an old story and, anyway, you know how it is with fandoms. Lots of opinions and egos. And some people just like to stir up trouble.”

  “I don’t, really,” I said, with a rueful smile. “I’ve never really gotten involved with that sort of thing.”

  Molly bounced up out of her chair again. “What—you’ve never been a fan of a band or movie star or anything?”

  “No. I like many things, and appreciate talent, but …” Meeting Molly’s intense stare, I instinctively straightened to my full height. “I’ve never been what I’d consider a true fan. Not enough to join any groups, anyway.”

  Molly looked me up and down. “Wow, I can’t imagine.”

  “Everyone’s different,” Harper said mildly. She stood and strolled over to stand beside Molly. “Some people aren’t joiners.”

  “I just don’t know what I’d do without the other Amanda Nobel fans.” Molly bounced on the balls of her feet. “I mean, I have to share my admiration and love somehow, you know? Otherwise I think I’d just bust.”

  “It’s great you have a way to do that, Molly,” I said, not bothering to hide the smile twitching my lips. “I’d hate to see anyone explode, especially here at Chapters.”

  Molly hesitated for only a moment before offering me a grin. “Yeah, too nice a place for that sort of mess.”

  An image of another mess, from the year before, flashed through my mind. “I hope so.”

  Molly shared a conspiratorial look with Harper. “Let’s just pray that Lisette’s ex-husband doesn’t find out she’s here. That could be a disaster.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, as the hairs stood up on my arms. After the events of the previous summer, the last thing I needed was a marital dispute playing out at Chapters.

  Harper laid a hand on Molly’s arm. “Don’t worry, I’m sure Billy will stay away.”