by Sarah Fox
That echoed what she’d told Rob.
Outside the french doors, Bentley sat up and let out a whine of impatience. I didn’t want to leave him alone out there much longer, but I still had another question for Lily.
“Have you shown the note to Sheriff Walczyk?”
“The sheriff?” Lily seemed surprised by the question.
“That would probably be a good idea,” Patricia said. “In case it’s related to the murder.”
A hint of pink showed on Lily’s cheeks. “I’m sure it’s not related. Honestly, it’s probably just one of my readers trying to get my attention. Most of my fans are wonderful, but there’s always one or two slightly unhinged people in every group.”
That was probably true, but I wasn’t convinced that the threat had come from a fan.
“I heard you found the note in your bag. Is that right? Could it have been there since before you left the lodge?” I asked.
“It was in my bag,” Lily confirmed. “It definitely wasn’t there before I came to Wildwood Cove. Someone must have put it in my bag while I was shopping the other day. A couple of the stores were quite crowded with holiday shoppers. I’m sure that’s when it must have happened.”
“That’s scary. That means whoever wrote the note was in close proximity to you at some point.” I didn’t understand why she wasn’t more frightened.
“It’s unnerving,” Lily admitted. “But if someone really wanted to harm me, they could have done so when they put the note in my bag. I really don’t think I have anything to worry about.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with her. Maybe the writer of the note wanted her to suffer psychologically before he or she struck out in a physical way. And I still wasn’t buying the crazed fan theory, especially considering the wording of the note.
“I really do think you should show it to Sheriff Walczyk,” I said.
Lily forced a thin smile. “You’re probably right. I’ll get in touch with her.” She had her gaze fixed on her laptop again. She clearly wanted our conversation to be over.
Patricia exchanged a glance with me before saying, “We’ll leave you to your writing.”
She and I stepped outside, much to Bentley’s delight. As we headed down toward the beach, he raced off ahead of us, bounding over a sun-bleached log and startling a seagull. The gull flapped into the air and flew away.
“Why would an unhinged fan say ‘you’re next’?” Patricia asked as we set off along the shoreline. “That sounds like something already happened to someone else.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I suppose it could be someone who’s been targeting other authors as well, but I don’t like the timing of it.”
Patricia frowned. “Someone put that note in her bag while she was here in our town.”
I glanced her way. “You’re worried that Kevin’s killer could be in Wildwood Cove,” I guessed.
“It’s a frightening thought.”
I couldn’t disagree with that.
“It also complicates things,” I said.
“Because you don’t know of anyone who would want to harm both Kevin and Lily?”
I nodded. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe it only makes sense to the killer,” Patricia said. “I really hope he or she will be arrested soon. I’m sure it must be tough for Rita, not knowing who killed Kevin.”
“An arrest would definitely be a good thing,” I agreed. “Are you going to Kevin’s memorial service?”
“I was hoping to, but we have guests at the B&B on the weekend and John will be out of town for work. Are you going?”
I tossed a stick for Bentley and he raced after it. “We’re planning on it. Chloe, too. She knows Rita’s daughter, Zahra.”
We continued along the beach, the frothy waves breaking rhythmically against the shore.
“Speaking of mysteries,” Patricia said after a moment, “I understand you solved the ornament thefts.”
“You heard about that?” I said with surprise.
“Johanna phoned me this morning,” she explained. “She told me about what happened at the Wildwood Inn. I never checked if the basement windows at the seniors’ center were locked. I saw that the glass wasn’t broken and left it at that.” She stepped over a clump of seaweed that had washed up on the shore. “Johanna’s terribly embarrassed about the whole thing. She’s bringing Emily by the festival after school today. I’ll be meeting them there. She wants Emily to apologize in person.”
I stopped to pick up a pretty shell. “I feel sorry for Emily. Not that I think she was right to steal, because I don’t, but it sounds like her parents’ divorce wasn’t exactly amicable.”
“Poor kid,” Patricia said. “She’s never been any trouble before, as far as I know. Hopefully she’s learned her lesson.”
“I think she has.”
For the rest of the walk, we talked about more cheerful topics, like the Festival of Trees and our plans for the holidays. Even so, I didn’t stop thinking about the note Lily had received. Not that it did me any good. By the time I’d said goodbye to Patricia and had returned home with Bentley, I was no closer to understanding how the note fit into the puzzle of Kevin’s murder.
Chapter Twenty-One
I had high hopes the next day, even though I knew they probably weren’t warranted. If I managed to meet up with Harvey in Port Angeles—and that wasn’t a sure thing—there was no guarantee that he’d tell me anything useful. Nevertheless, I stayed positive during the drive from Wildwood Cove to The Codfather. As promised, Brett had come with me, and his presence helped to calm the fluttering of nerves in my stomach. No matter how much I wanted to talk to Harvey, and hopefully gather some clues from our conversation, I couldn’t forget that he was one of my suspects.
We arrived in Port Angeles with more than an hour to spare, so we wandered around town, doing some Christmas shopping for family and friends. When we stopped at a jewelry store, I picked out a cute cat charm for Lisa’s favorite bracelet. With green eyes and black fur, the charm looked exactly like Lisa’s cat, Orion. We continued on to other stores, and I found gifts for Chloe, my mom, and my mother-in-law.
When we came to a bookstore, we didn’t even have to ask each other if we should go in; that was a given. We browsed the shelves for over half an hour. I would have stayed longer if I wasn’t worried about missing my chance to talk to Harvey.
I ended up buying a book for myself as well as one to give to my mom’s husband, Grant, for Christmas. Brett managed to pick out some gifts as well, and by the time we left the shop we’d both worked up an appetite from shopping.
The Codfather was quite busy when we arrived, which wasn’t a surprise. It was a popular place, thanks to its delicious food. As we headed for a free booth near the back of the restaurant, I carefully studied the other customers. Harvey wasn’t among them.
“What if he doesn’t show up?” I said to Brett after we’d ordered lunch and the waiter had brought us our drinks.
“Then you can talk to him on the weekend.” Brett reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze. “At least this trip wasn’t a waste—we got lots of Christmas shopping done.”
“True.” I took a long drink of my root beer, my gaze fixed on the restaurant door.
When our waiter brought our fish, fries, and coleslaw, Harvey still hadn’t appeared. I decided to do my best to enjoy my meal anyway. That wasn’t difficult. The food was just as amazing as I remembered, and I savored every bite, even as I kept a close eye on the door.
We were halfway through our meals when Harvey finally made an appearance.
The owner of the restaurant called out a greeting to Harvey, clearly well acquainted with him. Several booths had freed up since Brett and I had arrived, and Harvey sat in one not far from ours. As eager as I was to talk to him, I decided not to ambush him right away. If I waited until he
got his food, maybe he’d be less likely to storm out of the restaurant if he didn’t like my questions.
I managed to finish my fish, coleslaw, and half of my fries before I nudged my plate away.
“Are you full or just anxious to grill Harvey?” Brett asked.
“Both.” I pushed my plate closer to him.
He’d already polished off his food, but had no trouble finishing mine as well.
I drank the last of my root beer and then sat back, watching Harvey. Since he was facing away from me, I could keep an eye on him without being obvious about it.
“You don’t want dessert, do you?” I asked Brett when he’d eaten the last french fry.
Brett grinned, clearly knowing why I was asking. “I won’t delay you any longer.”
He paid the bill and we gathered up our coats and purchases. I headed in the direction of the door, with Brett following behind me, but of course I had no intention of going that far. Instead, I stopped next to Harvey’s booth.
“Hi, Harvey,” I greeted. “Do you remember me and Brett? We met you at Holly Lodge.”
Harvey was surprised to see us, but he recovered quickly. “Of course. How are you guys doing?”
“Not bad,” Brett said. “How about you?”
“Getting along all right, considering the way things have been of late.”
“Since the murder, you mean?” I slid onto the bench across from him, making room for Brett to join me.
If Harvey thought we were intruding, he didn’t let it show. “That’s right.” He scooped coleslaw onto his fork. “We’re not really in a festive mood at Holly Lodge.”
“Understandable,” Brett said. “Any news on the murder investigation?”
I could have kissed him for asking that question.
“Nope.” Harvey cut into his battered cod. “The cops are keeping their cards close to their chests.”
“I guess that’s not surprising,” I said. “But you knew Kevin well. Do you have any idea who killed him?”
He took a drink of coffee and set his mug down with a thud. “My money’s on the real estate guy.”
“Wilson Gerrard?” I asked.
He nodded as he munched on some coleslaw. “Didn’t you guys hear him arguing with Kevin?”
“We did,” Brett confirmed.
“But it seems like he doesn’t really benefit from Kevin’s death,” I said.
Harvey shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t think things through. Hotheaded types tend not to.”
“And Gerrard is hotheaded?” Brett asked.
“I don’t really know,” Harvey admitted, “but there’s something not quite right about him.”
I recalled how Wilson had taken pleasure in people pointing fingers at each other. “I know what you mean.” I hesitated, not knowing how he’d respond to my next words, but I forged ahead anyway. “You were outside around two in the morning the night Kevin died.”
Harvey’s gaze jerked up to meet mine. “What makes you think that?”
“I looked out the window and saw you,” I said. “You were on snowshoes.”
There was a hard glint to his eyes now. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“Not at all,” I said quickly.
“Really? Because it sounds like you are.”
“Hold on.” Although Brett was maintaining an appearance of calm, I could tell he’d grown tense. “Don’t put words in her mouth.”
“I was just wondering if you’d seen anything unusual while you were out and about,” I said. That was mostly the truth. Although in my book he wasn’t free of suspicion. Not even close.
Harvey stared at me as he chewed hard on a french fry. “I didn’t see anyone or anything, except for a light on in the lounge.”
“Probably Lily, when she was reading,” I said with a nod.
“So she says,” Harvey grumbled. He grabbed the salt shaker and sprinkled some over his remaining fries.
“You think she’s lying?” I asked with interest.
“Someone’s been lying.”
“I guess that’s true.” I considered how I could get more information from Harvey. “How long were you out that night?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” The hard glint had returned to his eyes.
“Marley’s solved mysteries in the past,” Brett jumped in. “She’s good at figuring these things out. You want Kevin’s killer caught, don’t you?”
Harvey studied us both as he continued to eat his lunch. “Sure, I do,” he said eventually. The suspicion hadn’t disappeared from his voice, but his eyes weren’t quite as unfriendly as a moment ago. “But I don’t see what it matters how long I was out.”
“It could narrow down the window of time when Kevin was killed,” I told him.
“If you don’t have anything to hide, answering Marley’s question shouldn’t be a problem,” Brett said.
I rested a hand on his knee, grateful for his support.
“Just because I have something I don’t want spread around, doesn’t mean I’m guilty of doing anything wrong,” Harvey said.
A thought struck me. “Were you meeting someone that night? A woman, maybe?”
When Harvey locked his gaze on mine, I knew I was right.
Thoughts whirled around in my mind. Had Rita been having an affair with Harvey? If she’d cheated on Kevin, maybe their relationship was more troubled than we’d thought.
“It’s…complicated,” Harvey said.
I nodded. “Because she was married to Kevin.”
Harvey’s eyes widened. “What? No!”
A couple of other diners glanced our way.
Harvey noticed and lowered his voice. “I wasn’t meeting Rita. I was on my way back from Evie’s place.”
It took a split second for the name to register in my mind. “The woman who lives near Holly Lodge? The one who brought fresh eggs for Rita?”
Harvey nodded.
Okay, so I hadn’t been completely right after all.
“Is Evie married?” Brett asked.
Harvey drained the last of his coffee. “No.”
I was still trying to connect all the dots in my head. “Then why the secrecy?”
“I was respecting Evie’s wishes.” Harvey paused as a waiter came by and refilled his coffee mug. When we were alone again, he continued to explain. “Evie was married. Her husband passed away three months ago. It wasn’t a happy marriage, but Evie stayed true to him right till the end. She was worried that people might judge her if they knew we’d started a relationship just a few weeks after her husband died. We weren’t going to keep it a secret for long, maybe another few weeks. Evie doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of in my mind, but she felt better about keeping things quiet for now, so that’s what we did.”
“But you told Sheriff Walczyk where you were that night?” I checked, hoping he’d been truthful with her.
“I did, and Evie confirmed my story.”
“So you’ve been cleared as a suspect?” Brett asked.
“Not entirely.” Harvey took a sip of coffee. “I wasn’t with Evie the whole night, and I still could have killed Kevin when I got back from her place. I didn’t,” he emphasized, “but I’m not completely free of suspicion. I’m not the only one, though.”
“No, there are several people who could have committed the crime,” I agreed.
“What about you two?” Harvey asked. “Are you under suspicion?”
“No.” Brett glanced my way. “At least, I don’t think so.”
“We were able to give each other alibis and we’d only just met Kevin when he died,” I said. “I don’t think the police suspect us.”
I certainly hoped that was true, but the sheriff and her deputies hadn’t given us any reason to believe otherwise.
“Whoever did it needs to be caug
ht soon,” Harvey said. “The whole thing’s tough on Rita and it won’t exactly be good for business if there’s a cloud of suspicion hanging over the place.”
I considered his words. “So Rita hasn’t been cleared as a suspect either?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.” Harvey rubbed his jaw. “It’s ridiculous to think she’d kill Kevin, but I guess the police have to do their job. And since she doesn’t have an alibi and she inherited everything from Kevin…”
I nodded. “They have to consider her as a suspect.”
Rita couldn’t have planted the threatening note in Lily’s bag, though, since Zahra said her mother hadn’t been anywhere except to Sheriff Walczyk’s office, which was a good hour away from Wildwood Cove.
Harvey finished the last of his coleslaw and signaled to the waiter. “I should get going.”
Brett stood up and I shifted along the bench so I could get up too.
“We won’t keep you any longer,” I said to Harvey. “Thanks for talking to us. Will you be at the memorial?”
He pulled out his wallet. “I’m in charge of organizing the hockey game.”
“We’ll probably see you on Saturday then.”
We said our goodbyes, and Brett and I headed out of the restaurant.
“What do you think?” Brett asked as we walked back to his truck.
“I can’t be certain, of course, but I don’t think he killed Kevin.”
“I got that sense too,” Brett said. “But sometimes the most unlikely person turns out to be a killer.”
Unfortunately, I knew that to be true. Still, I decided to focus my attention on my other suspects, unless and until something more came to light about Harvey.
We’d almost reached the end of the street when I stopped outside a shop’s display window. A decorated Christmas tree took up much of the window, surrounded by boxes of pretty decorations.
“Don’t you think we have enough decorations now?” Brett asked.
“We do.”
I turned away from the display and continued walking with Brett, my hand in his. By the time we reached the truck, a plan had formed in my mind. While Brett drove us back to Wildwood Cove, I sent text messages to several of my friends.