Reserved for Murder

by Victoria Gilbert

  “There are plenty based on nothing more substantial.” Gavin stared up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above us. “I wouldn’t rule anything out when it comes to killing. Most of it doesn’t make much sense.”

  I scraped my sandal soles across the porch floor, slowing the swing. “But getting back to Amanda—any suggestions for how to talk to her without betraying my suspicions?”

  “One trick is to keep any conversation on safe ground,” Ellen said. “Don’t mention anything connected to her books or even writing in general. Just ask about her evening out with Harper. That should be enough material for a friendly discussion, especially since she’s leaving tomorrow morning.”

  “But if I could find out something that would help the investigation …”

  Gavin shook his head. “You’ve done enough already. Let the authorities handle it from here. If Ms. Nobel is guilty, you certainly don’t want to clue her in to your suspicions. That could turn you into a target.” He laid a hand on my forearm. “The sad truth is, once someone has resorted to murder, it can become easier for them to kill again.”

  “Gavin’s right. We don’t want you to become another victim,” Ellen said, worry lines creasing her brow.

  “I hardly think anyone would try to kill me in my own house, especially with other people present. Remember, Harper and Alicia will be at Chapters tonight too.” I turned my gaze on Ellen. “You were chatting with Amanda and Harper right before they left for dinner. Did you pick up on anything interesting?”

  “Not really. Harper was wearing an interesting necklace that I admired, and we chatted briefly about it.” Ellen absently pleated the silky material of her tunic top between her fingers. “That was really all that was said, other than Amanda expressing excitement over the ghost tour. She said it could be research, since she might try to work something about an old graveyard into her next book.”

  “Another Tides book?” I asked, widening my eyes. “I thought she was over writing those.”

  Ellen lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know if it was another book in that series, or part of her new venture. She didn’t really say.”

  Hearing someone calling my and Ellen’s names, I glanced toward the street. Pete and Sandy Nelson waved at us from the sidewalk.

  Ellen pressed a finger to her lips before turning and calling out, “Out for a walk?”

  “Yep, the evening constitutional.” Pete stepped onto one of the pavers that led from the sidewalk to Ellen’s house. “We try to walk every day, regardless of the weather, but this summer’s been so darn hot, it’s been a challenge.” He dabbed at his forehead with a crumpled tissue.

  “Come and sit for a minute to cool off.” Ellen pointed up to the porch ceiling. “The fans produce a nice breeze.”

  “Thanks, I think we will,” Pete said, sprinting up to the porch with Sandy following more slowly. “Ahhh …” He took a position under one of the fans and tipped his head back.

  “It does feel good, although I’m still burning up,” Sandy said, when she reached the porch. She yanked off her floppy fabric hat and used it to fan her flushed face.

  Ellen stood and waved her hand toward the Adirondack chairs. “Please, have a seat.”

  “No, no, we don’t want to disturb you,” Sandy said, casting an inquisitive glance at Gavin and me.

  “You aren’t. We were just chatting.” Ellen’s bright smile gave nothing away. “Can I get you something to drink? Water or lemonade or something stronger?”

  “Water would be wonderful,” Pete said, as he flopped down into the chair Ellen had vacated. “Uh-oh, this is a mistake. Now I won’t want to get up again.”

  “I’m afraid you must. We’ll have to walk back home, if nothing else.” Sandy tugged down the hem of her Dancing Dolphin T-shirt as she leaned back against the porch railing. “It seems you’re having a nice long holiday, Mr. Howard.”

  If I didn’t know better, I’d have said Gavin’s smile was perfectly sincere. “It’s been lovely. Ellen’s such a gracious host.”

  I caught a glimpse of Ellen’s face before she headed inside and fought an urge to laugh. “They’re cousins, you know,” I said.

  Gavin nudged my foot with the toe of his sneaker. “Visiting family is always the best, isn’t it?”

  Pete rolled his eyes. “If you say so, although that hasn’t always been my experience, Mr. Howard.”

  Lifting his foot, Gavin sat back, causing the swing to rock again. “It’s Gavin, and I suppose there are a few families who aren’t as hospitable as mine.”

  “Yeah, like Sandy’s bunch.” Pete shot his wife a grin. “They’re a trip. They put the fun in dysfunctional, I always say.”

  “Really, Pete,” Sandy said, tossing her hat at him. “As if your mom wasn’t always looking at me like I had three eyes.”

  “Here we go,” Ellen said, bustling out the front door with a water bottle in each hand. “I don’t usually go in for these plastic bottles, but I thought it was something you could carry with you on your walk.”

  Pete leapt to his feet. “Is that a subtle hint for us to go?”

  “No, just a practical suggestion,” Ellen said, as she handed the bottles to him and his wife. “I don’t want to hear about either of you passing out on the sidewalk from heat stroke.”

  Sandy took a long swallow of water before focusing her piercing stare back on me and Gavin. “Do you finally have a night off, Charlotte? I noticed Chapters appears unusually quiet this evening. Are all your guests gone?”

  “Not yet,” I said, sliding closer to the arm of the swing, and farther from Gavin. No point giving Sandy any ideas. “A couple have left, but I still have two lodgers tonight. They’ll be checking out tomorrow morning.”

  Pete motioned for Ellen to sit back in her chair before crossing to the railing to stand beside Sandy. “Can you take a few days off then, or do you have more guests arriving soon?”

  “No one this week. I wasn’t happy about that when I originally looked at my schedule.” I shrugged. “No customers equal no money, as you know. But now I’m glad to have a little breather before my next group.”

  “And what about you, Gavin? Are you leaving soon as well?” Sandy arched her feathery brows. “Or are you planning to stay and enjoy the area and its attractions a little longer?”

  Oh dear, she already has ideas, I thought, my lips tightening into a grimace.

  “I’ll probably be heading out tomorrow as well.” Gavin’s tone was as laconic as his posture. “I don’t want to impose on Ellen too much longer.”

  “Well, before you go, you should stop in at our café.” Sandy pointed to the logo on her T-shirt. “I don’t think you’ve been in yet, or at least I haven’t seen you.”

  “I haven’t had that pleasure,” Gavin said.

  “Then you should come for lunch tomorrow. Our treat.” Sandy cast a warning glance at her husband, who’d opened his mouth as if to offer a protest over this invitation. “Bring Ellen, and … well, Charlotte should be free by early afternoon, so let’s say one o’clock?” she added, fluttering her lashes in a show of innocence I didn’t buy for a minute.

  Neither did Gavin, if his amused expression was any clue. But he offered Sandy a gallant smile. “Sounds like a wonderful idea. Thank you.”

  I lifted my hands. “I’ll have to see if I can make that. There’s a lot of cleaning and so on that I need to help Alicia with right after the guests depart.”

  Sandy shook her water bottle at me. “Nonsense, you said you have all next week off. That’s plenty of time to catch up.”

  “Okay,” I said in a resigned tone. “If that suits Gavin and Ellen.”

  Ellen waved aside any concerns with a sweep of one hand through the air. “Of course, it’s all right with me, and I doubt Gavin will object to a free meal. Or the company,” she added, casting me a wicked grin.

  It seemed she’d forgiven him for his meddling in her affairs. Probably because, like me, she’d come to appreciate his active concern for Ophelia Sand
burg’s safety. “I’ll have to make sure my guests actually check out by noon, of course.”

  “Just tell them you’ll charge them extra if they don’t,” Sandy said.

  “So where are your remaining two tonight anyway?” Pete handed Sandy her hat. “I’d have thought they’d want to lie low, what with being questioned about that murder and all. But then again”—he cast his wife a quick glance—“I didn’t expect to see Roger Warren any time soon, but there he was, large as life, at the Dolphin today.”

  “He does live here,” Ellen said.

  Sandy took a quick swig from her water bottle. “Yeah, but I think this is the first time he’s visited our café. And he was glancing around the whole time he was there, as if searching for someone. He even asked me if I’d seen that famous author or any of her fans in the last day or so.”

  I shared a look with Ellen. If Roger Warren was the killer, perhaps he was trying to track down anyone who might’ve had vital information from that Saturday night. Information they could share with the police as the investigation progressed. Like Amanda and Harper, I thought, a pang of concern tightening my chest. Maybe he was keeping tabs on both women, which wasn’t good, especially since they’d headed out on their own this evening.

  “They went out to dinner. Not sure where. Then they were going on a tour,” I said, fighting to keep anxiety from coloring my tone.

  “Tour?” Sandy pulled her hat back over her light-brown hair. “Was it something in Morehead City or Atlantic Beach or what?”

  “No,” I said, sharing another quick glance with Ellen. “It was here in Beaufort. One of the historical group’s events.”

  “That can’t be right. I volunteer with the Historical Association, taking care of their online calendar and other things.” Sandy frowned as she met my questioning gaze. “I don’t remember anything scheduled for this evening.”

  “It’s a ghost tour of the Old Burying Ground,” Ellen said. “Or at least, that’s what the women told me when they left to go to dinner.”

  Sandy wrinkled her pert nose. “Impossible. We don’t have any of those planned until the fall.”

  “But Amanda said she’d spoken to someone at the Historical Association …” I jumped up, sending the swing, and Gavin, crashing back into the porch rail.

  “She had to be mistaken, unless something was scheduled without my knowledge. I suppose that’s remotely possible, but it does seem odd.” Sandy patted Pete’s shoulder. “Anyway, I think it’s time for us to run along, dear. Despite the lovely company, we aren’t getting any exercise just standing here.”

  Pete grunted and took another swig from his water bottle before agreeing with her.

  “But we expect to see all three of you tomorrow at one.” Sandy waved gaily as she and her husband said their goodbyes and left.

  I strode to the edge of the porch and gripped the railing so I could lean out and make sure Pete and Sandy had disappeared before I turned back to Ellen and Gavin.

  “You heard her—Sandy claims there is no ghost tour tonight,” I said, my voice shaking. “Which means that Amanda …”

  Ellen’s grim expression conveyed her own concern. “Lied,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Let’s not panic.” Ellen stood and crossed to me, briefly laying a hand on my shoulder. “There may be perfectly reasonable explanation. Perhaps Amanda was simply confused over the dates for the tour.”

  I shook my head. “She explicitly said that she’d called the Historical Association about tonight. But …” I pressed my hands to my temples, as if to contain my swirling thoughts. “Maybe she just wanted to muddy the waters in case the police were trying to track her down. It could have nothing to do with Harper, except for using her company as a cover story.”

  “Right.” Ellen glanced at Gavin. “As far as we know, there’s no connection between Harper and Amanda, other than Harper being a devoted fan.”

  “So there’s no reason to suspect Harper is in danger. Unless Roger Warren really is stalking them.” I shook my head. “Which is another problem.”

  “I’m more concerned about why Amanda Nobel would lie so blatantly about a nonexistent tour.” Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t seem logical, and when things don’t make sense, I get worried.” His gaze shifted from Ellen to me. “I think I should jump in the rental and cruise around Beaufort for a bit. See if I can find them.”

  “We should alert the police,” I said.

  “Sure, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another person out looking.” Gavin held up his hands. “If I see them anywhere in town, I’ll call the police before I call you, Charlotte. Just let me grab my keys and phone and I’ll be off.”

  As he dashed into the house, Ellen took a deep breath. “I could take my car and search as well. Don’t worry, I’ll call the police if I spot them, or Roger, rather than try to confront any of them myself.”

  “I can search as well.” I met Gavin’s determined gaze as he walked back out onto the porch. “Perhaps we should coordinate our routes?”

  “Ellen and I can do this,” Gavin said. “You should stay at Chapters.”

  Ellen cast him an approving glance. “With 911 on speed-dial, in case Amanda and Harper return to the house, or Roger decides to show up here.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it again when I realized they had a point. We didn’t know where Amanda and Harper had dined, or where they’d gone after that. We didn’t even know if they were still together. If they’d walked anywhere near the Old Burying Ground, Harper would’ve quickly seen there was no tour, since the cemetery gate would be locked by this time of day. She might’ve realized something was up and left Amanda at that point.

  “All right. You two go. I’ll wait at Chapters. But I’ll also call Detective Johnson and give her the heads-up.”

  After we all shared phone numbers, Gavin conferred with Ellen for a moment more about covering different sections of Beaufort before sprinting to his car.

  “I need to grab my purse and lock up, but then I’ll hit the road too,” Ellen said, as he drove off. “Like Gavin suggested, I’ll call the police first if I spot Harper, Amanda, or Roger, then give you a ring.”

  “At least they were walking, so they couldn’t get too far.” I crossed to the porch steps. “They really didn’t mention anything about where they were dining when they talked to you at the garden gate earlier?”

  “No, like I said, we mostly chatted about Harper’s necklace.” Ellen paused with her hand on the front door latch and looked back at me. “That may seem kind of frivolous, when I was supposed to be digging for clues. But you know I love unusual jewelry and that piece was certainly unique. Apparently, Harper inherited it from her great-grandmother. It was lovely—a rather large amethyst in a white gold filigree setting.”

  I stopped dead on the bottom step and spun around to face her. “A what?”

  “Amethyst necklace,” Ellen said with a lift of her eyebrows. “Why? Does that mean something?”

  “Don’t you remember what I told you about the pen name of the fan fiction author Lisette plagiarized?”

  Ellen shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I recall you saying something about it, but I can’t remember the name.”

  “Amethyst Angel,” I said, as realization illuminated Ellen’s face.

  “It’s Harper. The wronged author is Harper,” she said.

  “Which means Harper also had a motive to kill Lisette.” I tapped my chin with my finger. “But it gives Amanda a reason to harm Harper too, if only to tie up all the loose ends related to a possible scandal. Maybe Amanda was afraid Harper was holding more information than she let on. Harper was able to hide the fact that she knew about Lisette’s ghostwriting, and the plagiarism accusations, from Amanda for quite some time. Amanda could be afraid Harper knows even more. Either way, we have two people wandering around, one of whom might be a killer. Not to mention that even if they’re both innocent, it’s possible they’re being stalked by someone
else.” I threw up my hand in a swift goodbye. “Go. I’ll phone Detective Johnson as soon as I get home to alert her to these new possibilities.”

  “And tell her either Gavin or I will call if we see anything,” Ellen called after me as I ran across her lawn to reach my own front yard.

  As soon as I locked the front door behind me, I rang the detective and filled her in on our recent revelations. She thanked me and promised to send out some officers to join in the search for Amanda, Harper, and Roger.

  “Stay home and call me when or if either woman returns to Chapters, or if you see any sign of Roger Warren,” she said before hanging up.

  I walked through my silent house, staring blankly at random pictures and other objects as I attempted to process the information about Harper and her connection to Amanda and Lisette.

  I was certain Harper had written the fan fiction story that Lisette had appropriated, and later used to land a ghostwriting deal. The amethyst necklace, an heirloom Harper apparently treasured, was the defining clue.

  “And she knew about Lisette ghostwriting Amanda’s upcoming book,” I told Brent’s photo when I finally wandered into my bedroom. “Molly didn’t know about that, but Harper somehow discovered that information before this week. Which means”—keeping my gaze locked on Brent’s portrait, I flopped down on my bed—“Harper was well aware of Lisette’s misdeeds before she showed up this week at Chapters.”

  Absently pulling on one tufted knot in my chenille spread, I mulled over this information. It certainly explained Harper’s less-than-cordial attitude toward Lisette. “She was actually pretty chill about it, considering,” I told Brent. “I mean, Lisette had not only stolen her story, she’d benefited from that theft financially. Not to mention the fame Lisette accrued in fan fiction circles based mainly on that one story. She also had the advantage of using the ghostwriting to launch her own writing career. Harper had every right to be furious.”

  But that fury, while righteous, could also have been a motive for murder.