by Sarah Fox
I didn’t even have to ask Brett to accompany us. He was already falling into step with us.
We took two lanterns with us so we wouldn’t have to turn on the overhead lights and drain the generator’s fuel.
“I can’t believe I actually fell asleep,” Chloe said with a yawn as we headed upstairs. “Talk about the creepiest night ever.”
I unlocked the door to our room. “I’m surprised I fell asleep too. I wouldn’t have been able to without you and Brett there beside me.”
We didn’t linger long upstairs, only staying long enough for each of us to make use of the washroom. On our way back down to the lobby, I told Chloe about the conversation that Brett and I had had with Lily earlier.
“So, do you think she’s telling the truth?” Chloe asked after I’d finished sharing everything Lily had said.
“Maybe?” I looked to Brett for his opinion.
“She seemed like she was telling the truth, but it’s hard to know for sure,” he said.
We’d reached the lobby, but we came to a stop instead of returning to the lounge, so we could continue our conversation in private.
“If she’s being honest,” Chloe said, “who could have pushed her? We know it wasn’t the three of us, and Evie and Harvey were at Harvey’s cabin.”
“So they said.” Brett voiced the thought before I had a chance.
“Zahra and Rita came running from their private quarters,” I added. “But there’s a back stairway. If they were fast, one of them could have pushed Lily from upstairs and then run down the back stairs. For that matter, Evie or Harvey could have done that, slipping out the back door afterwards.”
“I know it wasn’t Zahra.” There was no doubt in Chloe’s voice. “She wasn’t even here when Kevin was killed, right?”
I wasn’t so sure that let Zahra off the hook completely. “But if Rita killed Kevin, and Zahra knows that, she might have wanted to stop Lily from asking questions.”
“I don’t think Rita’s guilty either.” This time Chloe didn’t sound quite as sure.
“Somebody is,” Brett pointed out. “Somebody who’s in this lodge with us right now.”
Chloe shuddered at that reminder.
I thought back to what had happened after we’d heard Lily’s scream. “Ambrose came out of his room after we opened our door.”
“Could he have pushed Lily and then run back to his room without us hearing him?” Chloe asked.
“That’s exactly what I was wondering,” I said. “I thought I heard a sound out in the hall after Lily’s scream, but I don’t know for sure if I did.
“But isn’t Ambrose in love with Lily?” Brett asked. “He seems pretty concerned about her.”
I rubbed my face. “I can’t figure it out.”
Brett rested a hand on my shoulder. “Hopefully we won’t have to. With the storm dying down, maybe a crew will be able to clear the road. Then we can get an ambulance and the sheriff up here.”
That would be a relief.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a phone rang. The ringing wasn’t from any of our cell phones, and the phone sitting on the reception desk remained silent. The sound was coming from the office, I realized. The door stood ajar, so I moved around the reception desk and pushed it open.
“Someone must have left their phone in here.”
I spotted the glow of the cell phone as soon as I had the door open. The device sat on the desk. The ringing stopped and the screen went dark a moment later.
I held up the lantern I had in my hand. “Do you think I should take it to Rita?” I asked Brett and Chloe. “It’s probably her phone.”
I didn’t hear their replies. I was too distracted by what I was staring at. By the light of the lantern, I studied the diplomas and certificates on the wall. I’d seen them before, but I hadn’t paid enough attention on either occasion.
“What is it, Marley?” Brett asked from the office doorway.
I drew in a sharp breath. “I think I know who killed Kevin.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The revelation had unsettled me so much that I forgot the reason why I’d come into the office in the first place. Whispering, I shared my new theory with Brett and Chloe. I didn’t have any proof—yet—but I knew I had it right this time.
We left the office, intending to head back to the lounge so we could keep an eye on everyone. As we made our way around the reception desk, Ambrose emerged from the dining room, carrying a mug of steaming liquid.
I stopped short. “You’re alone? What happened to staying in groups?”
He shrugged while holding the mug steady. “I was just going around the corner. I figured if I yelled for help, everyone would hear me. Besides, some of the others are sleeping.”
He continued on into the lounge, and we followed him, my nerves taut. How much longer would we have to sit and wait in the dark with a murderer?
Rita had nodded off in her chair in our absence, as had Evie. Zahra sat staring at the flames in the fireplace, and Lily hadn’t moved from the couch. She had her eyes closed, but when we entered the room, they fluttered open.
I sat on the edge of the loveseat, unable to relax. I tried to breathe normally, but despite my efforts my breaths remained shallow. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take.
Brett sat next to me and put a hand to my back. The gesture brought me some comfort, but I still couldn’t relax.
Chloe seemed equally ill at ease. She sat down in an armchair, but like me, she perched on the edge, as if ready to jump up at any moment.
Ambrose reclaimed his chair beside the couch. He held out the mug to Lily. “Here’s your tea.”
I jolted up out of my seat. “That’s for Lily?”
My voice rang out like a shot in the quiet room. Evie and Rita stirred, and Lily’s eyes widened. She nearly spilled the hot liquid on herself as she accepted the mug from Ambrose.
“I really wanted some peppermint tea,” she said, sending a puzzled glance my way.
I felt everyone’s gazes on me. I wasn’t sure what to do next, until Lily raised the mug to her lips.
“Don’t drink it!” I lunged across the room and grabbed the mug from her.
A few drops slopped over the edge and spilled onto the floor.
Lily gasped, even though I’d managed not to spill the hot liquid on her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, looking at me like I was crazy.
Ambrose was on his feet now too. “Have you gone mad?”
I backed away, still holding the mug. I bumped into someone, and knew right away that it was Brett. He put an arm around my waist to steady me.
“What did you put in this?” I asked Ambrose.
“What do you mean? It’s tea,” he said. “Peppermint tea.”
“And what else?” I set the mug on the mantel.
Everyone was alert now, focused on me and Ambrose.
“What’s going on?” Rita asked me as she stood up. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“I know Ambrose killed Kevin,” I said, never taking my gaze off of him.
He stared at me from behind his glasses, the reflection of the firelight flickering in the lenses. I thought he was trying to remain impassive, but a shadow of something passed quickly across his face. Fear? Anger?
I suppressed a shiver, thinking it might be both. Maybe that made him more dangerous than ever.
“No way!” Lily exclaimed. “Ambrose wouldn’t hurt anyone.” She looked up at him. “Right, Ambrose?”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” Ambrose said. “Marley’s lost her mind. Either that or she’s trying to cover up for herself.”
Brett tensed beside me. I knew he was about to speak out in my defense, but I took his hand and gave it a squeeze, letting him know he didn’t need to.
“I thought
you had something to lose by Kevin’s death,” I said, still addressing Ambrose. “That story about wanting to hold writing retreats here wasn’t exactly true, was it?” I didn’t give him a chance to deny it. “Maybe you do want to hold retreats here, but not big ones. You hate crowds. You like peace and quiet and prefer small groups of people. That’s why you come to Holly Lodge. At least, that’s why you came in the beginning. But now you have another reason, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” Lily’s voice practically dripped with scorn. “I know Ambrose. He’s not a killer.”
“I know you think you know him,” I said, “and you probably think that your love for him is reciprocated. But he’s in love with someone else.”
“That’s not true!” Lily sounded frustrated now.
I turned to Rita. She stood watching the scene unfold with shock in her eyes.
“Rita is short for Marguerite,” I said. “I never gave your name a second thought until I saw your diplomas in the office.” I shifted my gaze from Rita to Ambrose. “Marguerite is the name of a flower. The flower of your heart,” I said, referencing the poem he’d read two weeks earlier. “You’re in love with Rita and you wanted her for yourself. Lily was asking questions, trying to solve Kevin’s murder, so you pushed her down the stairs. What did you put in her tea, Ambrose? Was this your second attempt at silencing her?”
“This is nuts!” Lily fumed.
“She’s nuts.” Ambrose stared at me, hatred simmering in his eyes.
Uncertainty flickered across Lily’s face. “Except…”
“Except what?” Brett asked.
Lily hesitated before speaking, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on Ambrose. “There’s that poem you wrote. Another one. Called Marguerite.”
Ambrose’s head snapped in her direction. “How do you know about that? I’ve never shared that poem with anyone!”
Lily shrank back in the face of his wrath. “I peeked at your notebook one day. I was curious if you’d written anything about me. About us. I thought maybe Marguerite was an ex-girlfriend from before we met.”
Ambrose’s mouth twisted, as if he was about to snarl.
Shock registered on Lily’s face. “You really did do it, didn’t you? You killed Kevin. And you copied my book. That made me look suspicious!”
He glowered at Lily. “I was hoping the body wouldn’t be found so soon.”
Rita let out a sob. “How could you?”
Ambrose only had eyes for Rita now. He took a step toward her. “I’ve cared for you for so long. Kevin made you unhappy. He always has. I couldn’t stand to watch you suffering any longer. When I had a chance to set you free, I had to take it.”
Rita shook her head, tears trickling down her face. “We argued, but we loved each other. He’s the only man I wanted to be with.”
Ambrose took another step closer to her. “No. I could make you so much happier.” He reached a hand out to her. “I love you.”
Rita recoiled from his touch.
That flicked a switch in Ambrose. He looked around at all of us, and seemed to realize the peril of his situation.
“I did it for you!” he yelled.
Then he shoved Rita aside and made a dash for the door.
Chapter Thirty
Shock kept the rest of us frozen in place for a second, but no longer.
Harvey was first to the door. He jammed his feet into his boots and then dashed out into the snow. I made a mad dash for the lobby and grabbed my own boots, pulling them on and running out the back door. Almost too late, I realized that the porch steps were slippery, covered in snow and ice.
I grabbed the railing to keep myself from falling and managed to make it down the steps safely. I knew Brett was right behind me, and others too, but I didn’t look back.
Ambrose had made a beeline for the lake. I charged down the unshoveled pathway, my progress hampered by the deep snow.
The faintest hint of daylight lightened the sky, and only a few snowflakes drifted down from the clouds.
At the bottom of the pathway, Ambrose left the shore for the frozen surface, slipping and sliding on the snow-covered ice.
Harvey slowed his pace before leaving the shore, moving carefully.
I slipped on the path and nearly went down. Brett grabbed my arm, keeping me on my feet.
We slowed down as we reached the lake.
Harvey was shuffling his way across the ice. Ambrose was still well ahead of him, struggling along.
“Ambrose, no!” Harvey yelled.
Ambrose showed no sign that he heard him.
Brett and I stopped at the edge of the lake. I gasped for breath, the cold air hurting my lungs.
Zahra and Evie came running up behind us. For the first time, I glanced back. Everyone else had stayed at the lodge.
“Where does he think he’s going?” Zahra asked. “He doesn’t even have a coat or boots.”
“That might be the least of his problems,” Brett said grimly.
I realized why a moment later.
Harvey halted on the ice and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Ambrose, come back! The ice isn’t safe out there!”
If Ambrose heard Harvey’s warning, he ignored it.
Harvey took two steps forward.
“Harvey, stay back!” Evie called out.
He stopped again.
We all watched as Ambrose continued to flee across the lake.
Maybe he’d make it safely to the opposite shore and the police would track him down unharmed later on. I figured he’d probably decided to take the shortest route across the lake in the hope of finding a getaway car or snowmobile at one of the houses over there. Or maybe he’d reacted with no thought at all.
Those theories had barely run through my head when I heard a crack and Ambrose dropped out of sight.
Evie let out a strangled cry.
Harvey bellowed Ambrose’s name and then turned around and hurried back to shore, shuffling and sliding across the snowy ice.
“We need a rope!” he called as he moved toward us.
He hit the shore running, heading back toward the lodge. Brett took off after him.
“What do we do?” Zahra sounded distraught.
“Nothing,” Evie said, her voice bleak. “If we go out there without a rope, we’ll end up in the water just like Ambrose.”
I stood up on tiptoes, trying to get a better view of the spot where Ambrose had fallen through the ice. The snow on the lake made it hard to see clearly, but I thought I spotted his head bobbing in the water.
“How long can he survive in there?” I asked.
“Ten minutes, maybe,” Evie said.
Harvey and Brett came running back down the pathway. Brett slid down the steepest part, but stayed on his feet. Harvey had a coil of rope over his shoulder and Brett was carrying a flotation device.
Harvey was already uncoiling the rope when he reached the edge of the lake. He quickly tied one end of it around himself and tossed the other end to Brett, who handed him the flotation device. Harvey tucked it under his arm and started out across the ice.
“Be careful,” Evie called to him.
Brett stayed on shore with the rest of us, keeping a good grip on the end of the rope.
Each second seemed to pass slowly as we watched Harvey’s progress. When he’d moved beyond the safe ice, he got down on his hands and knees. Then he slid forward on his belly, his progress hampered by all the snow covering the ice.
I could barely breathe from the tension. I couldn’t see if Ambrose’s head was still above the surface of the water.
Harvey had come to a stop on his stomach, near the edge of the broken ice.
He stayed there for at least two full minutes, barely moving, before he slowly turned around and slithered back toward us on his stomach. Brett reeled in the
rope, helping him with his progress. When he was back on firm ice, Harvey got to his feet and shuffled to shore.
Apprehension settled heavily over my shoulders. There was no way he had good news to deliver.
“He went under when I was about halfway there,” Harvey said, his face somber. “He didn’t resurface.”
I tried to process everything that had happened over the past few minutes, but my mind was too numb to make sense of any of it.
Brett put an arm around my shoulders and I realized that I was shivering. I hadn’t noticed the cold until then, but now I felt chilled to the bone.
“Let’s get inside where it’s warm,” Brett said, already nudging me in the direction of the lodge. “We need to call the sheriff.”
We all trudged up the path to Holly Lodge, where the others were waiting to hear the grim news.
Chapter Thirty-One
We waited more than an hour for Sheriff Walczyk to arrive at Holly Lodge. By then the snow had stopped falling and the downed tree had been cleared from the highway. I even spotted a couple of patches of blue sky when I peered out the window, watching as the sheriff and two of her deputies headed down to the lake, Harvey walking beside them.
An ambulance had also arrived and had just pulled out of the parking lot, with Lily safely on board. Physically she was fine, aside from her ankle injury, but I figured it would take her a long time to recover from the shock of learning that Ambrose had been a murderer.
Another two hours passed before Sheriff Walczyk was content to let us head home. I was long past ready to get out of there. We’d all answered questions and given statements, and I wanted nothing more than to return to the comforting familiarity of home.
Chloe wanted to talk to Zahra one last time before we left, so she set off for the dining room, where we’d last seen Rita’s daughter. I returned to the window, looking out toward the frozen lake. It would be Ambrose’s final resting place, like it probably was for Henrietta Franklin, unless his body was recovered in the future. There wasn’t much chance of that happening before spring.
I was horrified by what Ambrose had done, but his death had also left me shaken. I knew there was nothing more we could have done without ending up in the icy water along with him, but the memory of standing there helplessly on the shore as he drowned haunted me.