Eve Lloyd's A Deadline Cozy Mystery - Books 1 to 5

by Sonia Parin

  “But why go to the trouble of poisoning him?”

  Eve clutched her stomach. “To frame me.” And it had backfired. “I’m surprised she hasn’t lodged an official complaint about me not being put behind bars.”

  “Who says she didn’t?”

  “Why didn’t you tell Jack about Dante threatening you?” Jill asked, her eyes wide with concern.

  “Because... because I might have imagined it. I’ve become so fixated with this murder my mind can only perceive shadows and murderous intentions.” She growled under her breath.

  “You need a holiday.”

  “I suggested she come on a cruise with me,” Mira offered as she helped herself to another cookie.

  “What I need is for killers to stay away from the island. We don’t want it becoming an infestation.”

  “There’s a town meeting in a couple of weeks,” Jill said, “You could suggest posting a guard at the bridge. Only good people get to drive through.”

  “A check point. That’s a great idea.”

  “I’ll leave you two girls to sort out the security of the island. My duke requires my attention.”

  Eve waited until Mira had disappeared into her study to suggest they go out for a walk along the beach.

  “I think it’s time to lure the killer out.”

  Jill dug her heels into the sand. “You did not just say that.”

  Yes, she had. And she’d needed to say it because she needed Jill to talk some sense into her. She shouldn’t get involved... put herself and others at risk. This had nothing to do with her. Let the professionals handle everything. But... She was involved. She’d been dragged into it kicking and screaming.

  “We’ve reached a stalemate.”

  Jill wagged her finger at her. “Then we step back and let the police do their job.”

  They walked along in silence. Eve tried to enjoy it for as long as she could, letting her thoughts float around without focusing on any one of them. But then one rose to the surface and caught her attention.

  Do you hate me that much?

  Charlotte’s rage had been driven by emotions. Either that or it had been a performance and now Eve had to wonder how Charlotte could hate her so much. She could understand an emotional outburst but not one that had been perfectly planned and executed.

  Hate didn’t come into it, she reasoned.

  Charlotte didn’t have time for emotions. They didn’t serve any purpose.

  Eve broke the silence. “Who’s our strongest suspect?” She didn’t see Jill roll her eyes but she knew she had by the droning tone of her voice.

  “Charlotte McLain.”

  “Who has the most to lose?”

  “Everyone. Their freedom, their lifestyles and their ill-gotten gains.”

  “Who’s the most desperate?”

  “My finger is still pointing at your school buddy, Charlotte.”

  “Who is the most cold-blooded?”

  “How do you measure that?”

  “You’re right.” Eve folded her arms and looked out to sea. “We don’t have resources. Jack can look into their finances. He can tap their phones, he can check banking records... so long as they’re not in some offshore account or a Swiss bank. He can find out where they’ve been, where they’re going. We’re limited.”

  Jill sighed. “Only by our imaginations. It’s fun trying to put two and two together.”

  “You don’t have to sound so defeated.”

  “Can’t help it. But I guess the old adage applies. If you can’t beat them, join them. And this is fun.”

  “Yes, but let’s not forget someone died because someone else killed him.” Eve gave a firm nod and rubbed her hands together. “We need to stir things up.”

  Jill groaned.

  “Use the island grapevine to spread a rumor.”

  Jill’s groan died down to a whimper.

  “Let’s see... How about, I’ve found proof and I’m mapping out a trail leading to the prime suspect. That should bring the killer out into the open.”

  “You want to set yourself up as bait?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yes. Let Jack do his job. Throw yourself into your inn. You said you wanted to go to estate sales. Or we could become couch potatoes and watch daytime TV at least until the killer is caught.”

  Eve stopped and swung toward Mira’s house. “My only concern is involving Mira and you, of course.”

  “I can’t believe you’re serious about this. Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”

  Eve knew she had to tread with care and be smart about this. She had to position herself... Be strategic. “I know what I’ll do.”

  “I guess the answer is no.”

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “Nothing compelling enough to change your mind.”

  “As you pointed out, I haven’t done anything other than buy a house which I’ll eventually turn into an inn, so I can’t hold an opening party but there’s nothing that says I can’t hold a pre-opening party. Like a rehearsal party. And I want to do it now while Charlotte is still in town. That way, I get all the major players to congregate in the same place.”

  “Where?”

  “The inn.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I’d like to commission some paintings from you for the inn.”

  Jill did a double take. “Are you trying to distract me or get me out of the way?”

  Both, Eve thought as she studied the entrance to what had been Abby’s house but now belonged to her. Lock, stock and endless repayments.

  Eve remembered the day she’d seen the for sale sign posted outside Abby’s bookstore. She’d only recently come to the island for a brief visit but had been thinking about her prospects and what she would do with herself after selling her restaurant. There were still days when she thought the house had been an impulse purchase triggered by a need to find any excuse to remain here with her aunt. Mira didn’t really need her around but Eve had come to realize she needed to experience the feeling of belonging she’d enjoyed when she’d been younger and had come to spend her summer vacations here.

  “I won’t insult your artistic integrity by suggesting size or color. I trust your judgment and taste.”

  Jill pinned her with a raised eyebrow look. “How considerate of you. So, I suppose you now want me to scuttle off to my studio and stay there while you go out of your way to taunt a killer into taking action.”

  “I promise I’ll keep you up to date.”

  Jill folded her arms and lifted her chin. “I’m not budging.”

  “Suit yourself.” Eve strode into the house and began opening windows.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This place needs airing.”

  “Eve?”

  “If you want to hang around, then by all means do. I’m going to spend a few minutes in each room and decide what I’ll keep and what needs to go.” The house had come fully furnished with antiques. It had added to the cost but Eve couldn’t turn her back on pieces that had been here since the house had been built. She strode into the dining room and swirled around. “I love the wallpaper but it needs freshening up.” The tiny daisies were faded as was the pale green in the background. She suspected it was meant to be more green than gray.

  “There are some places that specialize in reproductions,” Jill offered, “If you can’t source it, they’ll make it for you. And yes, I’m trying to show you I can be helpful.”

  “You’ll always be my sounding board.”

  “If there’s a but in there somewhere I don’t want to hear it.”

  “You’ll thank me later,” Eve said under her breath and swung toward Jill. “I think I’ve taken on more than I can chew here. Painters have to be organized. Wallpapers sourced. The floorboards checked. I want to retain the quaintness of the house but not the creaking floorboards. A couple of the windows will need replacing. They’re stuck. The list is endless and I can’t be in all places at once.
How would you feel about visiting some show rooms and collecting samples for me?”

  “I’d hate it because I’d know you were only trying to get me out of the house and out of harm’s way so the answer is no.”

  “Fine. You’re determined. Although, not very long ago you would have jumped at the opportunity to get out and about and away from—”

  “Mischief. That’s all this is and I’m telling Jack.”

  “All right.” She pursed her lips. “I won’t do the party.”

  “Promise.”

  “You’re determined to shadow me so how am I supposed to organize it all without you knowing?”

  “You can be devious.”

  “I give you my word. I—” A knock at the front door cut her off. Eve didn’t move.

  “Are you expecting someone?” Jill asked.

  “No.”

  “Then there’s no reason to answer it.”

  “But it... it could be a neighbor.” Eve took a step but Jill blocked her.

  “Or it could be Lana Bishop because you can’t help yourself.”

  “I promise you, I have no idea who that could be.”

  “Why don’t I go answer it then? I know this isn’t my house, but you have such a heavy workload, I want to do all I can to help ease your load.” Before Eve could stop her, Jill rushed to the front door. Moments later she returned, a smug smile in place. “Look who’s here.”

  “Lana... Hi. W-what a lovely surprise.”

  “I’m sorry. Did I get the dates mixed up?”

  Eve tilted her head and smiled. “Dates?”

  “I’m sure you said to meet you here today—”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. Come in.” Eve avoided meeting Jill’s disapproving gaze. She’d explain later. She hadn’t lied or misled her. She’d... forgotten to cancel. Eve made a mental note to remember that excuse. “Let’s go into the sunroom. It’s lovely there at this time of day.” Jill followed them, her expression mulish.

  Eve couldn’t help noticing the elegant cut of Lana’s suit. And the shoes. She’d have to ask Jill about them but she didn’t need to be a fashion expert to know they were expensive. Eve shifted in her seat and tugged at her old pair of jeans. Her clothes were intended for comfort but they could be a statement. She saw nothing wrong with dressing down. Living on the island, she didn’t have anyone to impress.

  Leisure wear, Eve.

  Jill’s voice floated in her mind. She’d worked for a fashion magazine so she’d know all about making the right fashion choices even when you didn’t intend stepping out of the house.

  “Have the numbers changed?” Lana asked.

  Eve tried to pick up the thread of the conversation. Her gaze strayed over to Jill who stood leaning against the door, her arms folded, her eyebrows lowered into a slash of disapproval.

  “You mentioned inviting two hundred people.”

  “Oh... yes. That sounds about right.”

  “What about the invitations. We can also include that in our services.”

  “I’ll have a list drawn up.” Did she even know two hundred people?

  Lana looked around the sunny room. “This is very... cozy. Were you thinking of having the party indoors?”

  “Do you have any suggestions?”

  “You could have both indoors and outdoors. You could also have one or the other. The weather is still mild enough to hold it outside. We have a selection of marquees to choose from.”

  Was there anything Lana Bishop didn’t supply? Eve felt tempted to ask about Fugu but decided that would be teetering too close to danger. She sifted through the barrage of questions she needed to ask and remembered the key one. Did Charlotte know she’d been engaged to Jon?

  “I didn’t notice the marquees when I visited your office.”

  Lana gave her a tingling laugh. “We outsource.”

  That would provide her with the perfect set up to skim off other companies. It seemed every shark had a small fish to feast on.

  “Some of our customers have very specific tastes, so sometimes we have to have something designed and made specifically to order. For instance, one of the last parties I catered had an Arabian Nights theme so all the marquees were designed to look like Bedouin tents.”

  “I doubt I’ll want anything so specific.”

  “But you’ll be particular about food,” Lana said, “You mentioned that you wanted it to reflect your menu.”

  She had?

  “Yes. Of course.” Seeing Jill roll her eyes, Eve gave her an impatient shake of her head. “Did Charlotte McLain suggest the menu or did you have an input?” Eve mentally growled at herself. She’d meant to work up to that, not spring it on Lana Bishop.

  “She’s one of my favorite clients. Knows exactly what she wants.”

  “So you’ll still be doing business with her,” she said, her tone hitched up to express surprise.

  Lana gave her a small smile. “Of course.”

  “No hard feelings about your sushi killing her fiancé?” She didn’t wait for Lana to answer. “I’ve never known her to be so tolerant and forgiving.”

  Lana Bishop’s face remained expressionless. “We’ve been cleared of any wrongdoing. The police are no longer questioning us.”

  “That doesn’t mean they’ve crossed you off the list,” Eve said.

  “Me?” This time, her voice broke and she visibly stiffened.

  That could be a natural reaction, Eve thought. She’d clearly put a lot into revamping her business and a mishap such as poisoning one of the guests could ruin her.

  “Take it from someone who’s been there. Once a suspect, always a suspect, until the real culprit is discovered.”

  Lana lifted her chin, clearly determined to proceed despite her slip up. “What happened to Mr. O’Brian was unfortunate.”

  “Mr. O’Brian? I would have thought you’d be on first name terms. After all, you were engaged to him. Or did I hear wrong?”

  “Who told you that?”

  Eve’s eyes widened into what she hoped would be perceived as an innocent expression. “I thought it was common knowledge.”

  When Lana straightened Eve realized she must have crumbled a bit at her line of questioning.

  Good, she was getting to her.

  “It wasn’t common knowledge.”

  The remark sounded flippant, as if she now didn’t care one way or the other. Eve wondered why Lana didn’t bother to deny it more fiercely. A real killer would be well versed in covering their tracks.

  “Not common knowledge? I thought I read about it somewhere. In fact, I know I did.” Eve clicked her fingers. “I scan through so many newspapers every day I can’t remember exactly where I read about it. These days, my attention is focused on local businesses, so it must have been a local newspaper. I can see why you’d think no one would know about it.” By no one, she meant someone like Charlotte McLain who wouldn’t bother with inconsequential small town gossip. Eve knew she’d hit the jackpot. “Charlotte doesn’t know.”

  A fierce splash of bright red appeared on Lana’s cheeks.

  Her fingers twitched. Her lips pressed down slightly.

  Eve wouldn’t be surprised if she surged to her feet and stormed out. But she didn’t.

  “I’d like it to remain that way.”

  She spoke so softly Eve nearly missed what she’d said.

  “I can be discreet.”

  “I’d appreciate that.” Lana checked her watch. “I can see you’re still in the thinking stages. If there’s anything I can help you with, don’t hesitate to contact me.” She collected her handbag and got up, her legs, Eve noticed, giving a slight wobble.

  She’d hit a spot.

  “How far in advance would I need to make the booking?” it occurred to ask.

  Lana Bishop opened her mouth to reply and then hesitated. Almost as if she’d suddenly remembered something. “As a matter of fact, we’re fully booked until next month.”

  “Would you be able to squeeze me in?”

&nb
sp; “Unfortunately, no. There’s so much to organize. We prefer to be thorough.”

  A month? By then, Charlotte and her friends would have moved on. She didn’t think Jack would take that long to find the killer and Eve would be stuck with a party she had no intention of holding.

  “We’d also require a deposit up front.” Now Lana sounded more confident.

  “How much?”

  “Fifty percent.”

  “That’s hefty. Is that usual?”

  “It is for first time customers.”

  Yet something told her she’d just made that up, as a way to discourage Eve from going ahead with the party and perhaps prodding for more information?

  She didn’t give her a chance to question the fee. Finding her stride, Lana made a beeline for the front door, gave her a brief wave goodbye and left.

  “I don’t think she wants my business.”

  Behind her, Jill chortled. “What do you expect? Did you see how she reacted? I think you’ve made an enemy.”

  “What? How?”

  “If she has to choose you over Charlotte... do you need me to spell it out for you? I bet you anything if you call her now and set a definite date for the party she’ll suddenly find she’s fully booked out for the next dozen years.”

  “My money’s as good as Charlotte’s. If not better. I’m a local. Charlotte won’t be around to hold any more parties on the island. It would be in Lana’s interest to bend over backward for me.”

  “And yet, I’m willing to bet she’s already decided she doesn’t want anything more to do with you.”

  Eve swung on her feet and went in search of her cell phone. Moments later, she huffed out a breath.

  “Well?”

  “She didn’t answer. I left a message saying I’m willing to pay the full amount upfront.”

  By the next day, she still hadn’t heard back from Lana Bishop.

  At precisely nine o’clock that morning she dialed her number. Again, her call went to voice mail. Fine. She left a message. “Lana. It’s Eve Lloyd. I was hoping to hear back from you today. I’m on my way out and will be meeting with Charlotte McLain so she and I can talk...” She paused, “I might be able to pick her brain about some things. You know, woman to woman. Call me.” She hadn’t lied. She hadn’t even fibbed. While Charlotte had made it clear she didn’t have the time of day for her, there was nothing to stop Eve from having a conversation with her, albeit in her head.