Murder's No Votive Confidence

by Christin Brecher

  “That doesn’t sound like her,” I said.

  “I think it was out of shock, but technically, the vase might have been evidence.”

  “But why would Bill kill the man? That’s ridiculous. He has nothing to do with the Sterlings.”

  “Seems he did,” said Andy. “After we left the Sun Room, Bellamy questioned him. He didn’t like his answers, so they searched him. Lo and behold, they found twenty-five hundred dollars on him, which he confessed he’d taken from the dead man. I’ll give Bellamy one thing, he knows how to break a guy. Before you know it, Bill started yelling that Simon Sterling had screwed him over and that the money and more was his. Then he bragged about punching his eye out.”

  I sat back, stunned. Other than Jessica, who would never sabotage her own wedding, let alone ruin the candle she loved so much, Bill was the last person on earth I would ever have expected to be Simon Sterling’s murderer.

  “I don’t believe Bill did it,” I said. “Do you?”

  The man who had helped out my single mom, had slipped me some babysitting money, and had been such a kind and loving husband and father was not a murderer. No one was going to convince me otherwise.

  “It’s really hard to believe Bill would kill someone,” said Andy, “but he was probably the last to see Simon Sterling. He was in charge of the candle yet somehow forgot to put it away, and he had a bone to pick with the man. Bellamy is convinced the murder was not premeditated, and that it had to do with the card game.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Bill, a murderer?” I said.

  “Bellamy’s confident he’s got his guy,” said Andy. “There are no motives to implicate anyone else. Bill as much as confessed.”

  “This is wrong,” I said and rose to go.

  “The good news is Bellamy gave the all clear. The Melville is back open for business. The Game Room is still cordoned off, as is Sterling’s room, but otherwise things are resuming some sense of normalcy. Of course, everyone’s shaken about the idea that Bill could do such a thing.”

  “Because he didn’t,” I said.

  “Here,” said Andy, handing the cat to me and picking up his extra coffee and crullers. “Someone has to look after Tinker and the station’s a madhouse. I’m officially making you his caretaker. If we need him as evidence, I’ll call you.”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “Yup,” he said and dodged out the door.

  I looked at the cat. He purred, which just made me angrier.

  Leaving The Bean, I passed an expensive gift shop that had recently opened. Inside, I caught sight of Tony. I thought about saying hi, but for all I knew Tony could have killed Simon Sterling as easily as anyone else. I wasn’t buying Bellamy’s quick arrest procedurals. I decided to keep my distance, and headed toward my store.

  Rather than stop inside, I jumped into my car with Tinker, and slammed the door. Then, I hit the road for my second drive to the Melville that morning. Andy and the police might be under Bellamy’s orders to wrap up the case now that an arrest had been made, but there was no way I was going to let a murderer roam around my island while Bill Duffy rotted in jail for a murder he did not commit. Hell if I wasn’t going to find the guy who really killed Simon Sterling.

  Chapter 6

  During my drive to the inn, with the wind singing through the crack in my back window, I was upset about Bill and heartbroken for Jessica, and even Joe. Then, Tinker bolted upright from a solid nap to claw at a leaf that flew by our window. I almost had a heart attack, but my furry charge reminded me that I was on the investigation team, more or less. I was an honorary member on the case, whether Andy had intended so or not. I would keep my antenna up for anything funky going on at the inn while setting up for the wedding. No one, not even the murderer, would be any wiser for it. The thought was terrifying. And irresistible.

  I was early, but I wasn’t surprised to see Emily had already arrived.

  “This event is crazier than the Fortman wedding,” she said when I pulled up beside her car in the Melville’s parking lot.

  “I don’t know,” I said as I got out of the car with Tinker in tow. “I’ll never forget you chasing after that little ring bearer who decided to take off with the loot.”

  “OK, you’re freaking me out with this cat. Where did it come from?”

  “It was Simon Sterling’s,” I said, and remembered Frank’s rule that Tinker was off-limits at the Melville.

  Emily stood stock-still.

  “Put it back in the car,” she said, which I was already doing. “No bad omens. Jessica and Joe have had a tough enough morning. They don’t need anything to remind them of Simon Sterling. What are you doing with a dead man’s cat?”

  “Andy made me its official minder,” I said. I shoved an old beach towel I’d left on my back seat into the crack of the open window so Tinker couldn’t get out. “I can now add police work to my resumé.”

  “Is Andy still dating that Florida woman he met last summer?” Emily said. She peered into her open trunk at a pile of boxes and picked out a couple.

  “Georgianna,” I said, closing the trunk and taking the boxes from her. He’d started dating her not long after Voldemort left me.

  “Tan, flat stomach, always wears stripes, even the unflattering horizontal ones?” said Emily. “I’m not being unkind. She pulls them off.”

  “That’s the one,” I said. Georgianna was also obsessed with sailing, which is not Andy’s thing. He’s a surf caster, especially after a good storm when the blues are practically rolling in on the waves. They say opposites attract, so she was probably the one for him. I wondered if she was planning to sail in the weekend’s regatta.

  Emily and I walked along the crunchy dirt road toward the inn. I noticed there was only one police car parked out in front. I did not need to peer into the car to know that the officer was not from the island’s police force. If he’d been one of ours, he’d be front and center, on the hunt for the real murderer, convinced of Bill’s innocence. Instead, this guy was blowing on a hot coffee, and looking at his phone.

  “Did you hear about Bill?” I said, as we reached the door to the inn.

  Emily flared her eyes to warn me to keep any bad news outside the door. We had an event to plan.

  I nodded, but I was not satisfied.

  Emily looked me straight in the eyes, as if she could see something was up. I stared back with a look that said she was imagining things. I won. She opened the door.

  Two steps inside, Jessica flung her arms around my friend and burst into a new flood of tears. Mrs. Sterling stood right behind her daughter. She had stopped crying. Her expression was stoic. Clearly, she was being strong for her daughter, but I noticed tight lines around her eyes.

  I said hello in a casual sort of way, given that the last time we’d been together was over a dead body. I must not have been as slick as I thought because Emily whooshed her client over to a roaring fire in the hotel lobby that Frank had made sure was lit on the cold day, in spite of the madness. I could see Emily go straight to work on the psychology part of her job. I knew in a few minutes she would have Jessica filled with renewed joy at her upcoming nuptials. It was her gift.

  “She’s a stubborn girl,” Mrs. Sterling said, watching her daughter.

  I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me, exactly, but I nodded along.

  “The moment she set eyes on Joe, she decided he was the one,” she said. “He has the charisma to sell ice to an Eskimo. Jessica thinks he’s going to be a self-made man, and that they’ll have a storybook life.”

  Mrs. Sterling looked at me. I was right. I could tell that she hadn’t exactly been speaking to me. She bit her lip, then smiled.

  “I guess you could say we’re lucky, all things considered,” she said. “The police were kind enough to let us move ahead, now that the bartender is under arrest.”

  “Hard to believe Bill would do that,” I said.

  “I trust the police know their job,” said Mrs. Sterling. I assumed the pointe
d look she gave me was meant to telegraph the same message Emily had given me a moment before: No drama while on the wedding’s turf.

  I gave her a conciliatory nod. Message received.

  “Let’s make sure that when the guests arrive this afternoon, there’s no trace of murder,” she said.

  “I’m not sure if I said it earlier, but I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said.

  “You probably think we’re cold people, to have a wedding after having just lost a family member to a violent end. You should know, Simon was a stranger to Jessica.”

  “Did you know him well?” I asked.

  Mrs. Sterling looked into my eyes but her expression cut right through me. I knew I’d have to be a little savvier to get someone like her to open up.

  “Emily said that Jessica thought he would be a lovely addition to the wedding,” I said. I had no idea if that was true, but I’d seen her get fired up about Simon once already, so I thought a compliment might set her off. I was right.

  “Ha!” she said with excellent staccato to make her point. “She would have changed her mind in no time if she had had more time to get to know him. I know I should be playing the part of the grieving family, but what’s the point? Everyone knows that I’ve been onto Simon’s routine for years.”

  I took my chances and gave her a doubtful look to stir the pot. She raised an eyebrow.

  “The poor man came to walk his niece down the aisle,” I said. I glanced across the lobby to make sure that Emily could not see me aggravating her client’s mother. Fortunately, she was still focused on Jessica, who had gone from the edge of her seat to a more comfortable position. “He must have had some redeeming qualities.”

  “All smoke and mirrors,” Mrs. Sterling said. I seemed to have hit the jackpot, because Mrs. Sterling looked ready to hit me over the head with a candlestick if she had had one handy. “Trust me. I met Simon Sterling when I was as young as Jessica is now. We traveled in the same crowd. He had a lot of charm, loved to spend money, treat people to things, but ultimately, he was lacking in character. For one thing, he never understood the value of money. Henry, on the other hand, appreciated the value of a nickel even as a wealthy, wealthy man. We never spoiled Jessica. I fear now, however, that this is why she thinks she will be happy with Joe, but she really doesn’t understand how the other half lives.”

  I thought we lived perfectly nicely, but I stayed focused on Simon.

  “So, Simon was a big spender,” I said, thinking about the card game.

  “People loved him because he got others to come out of themselves, live it up, but there was always a price to pay. Once he got to know you, he’d play with you, your insecurities. One day, I was at one of Simon’s parties and Henry walked into the room.” Mrs. Sterling’s eyes welled up. “Once Henry and I started to date, Simon was never happy unless he was toying with me. Finally, Henry and I cut ties with him. I can only imagine what he put over on the Melville’s bartender to drive him to murder. Trust me, if the deceased had been anyone other than Simon, I’d have a lawsuit again the Melville in the works as we speak.”

  We both shuddered, but probably for different reasons.

  “Jessica was hell-bent on having Simon walk her down the aisle though,” she said. “Tradition and all that.”

  “Family, huh?” I nodded conspiratorially, but I was at a loss. There were a dozen Wrights to walk down an aisle, and we aren’t big on bullying each other, as Simon seemed to have done to Mrs. Sterling.

  I studied Mrs. Sterling, a woman who must have been in her late fifties, but who seemed fit for her age. I wondered if she could wield a candle with enough force to kill Simon. She probably could.

  “What about the unity candle?” said Mrs. Sterling. “Can you make a new one?”

  “Does Jessica want one?” I was surprised, excited, daunted.

  “She doesn’t want the one you designed, that’s for sure,” said Mrs. Sterling. “Can we come up with something a little different?”

  “What are the readings at the ceremony?” The wheels were already beginning to turn away from murder and on to what I knew best.

  “It’s the ‘to everything’ one,” she said and then hummed the “turn, turn, turn” chorus from the Byrds song from the ’60s.

  “Ecclesiastes 3,” I said. I’d been to my fair share of weddings at this point, so I know this is the all-time standard. An idea began to form. “What if I make a unity wreath with four candles? One for every season? A play on the usual? And I can use the votive candles we’ve already made for the guests and which have the scent. As I said, I’ve already made extras.”

  “I like it,” said Mrs. Sterling with genuine enthusiasm. I could tell she was happy to have a hand in an element of the wedding that her daughter had loved, in spite of her thoughts about Joe.

  As we spoke, I noticed that the magic of Emily Gardner Events was already beginning to unfold. Quietly, three people from Emily’s company had arrived and after a few words with Frank, they hauled in two potted fiddle leaf fig trees that they placed in front of the closed doors to the Game Room. The yellow tape that covered one end of the door to the other was promptly covered in a garland that I’d unknowingly carried in one of Emily’s boxes. Next, they began to shift some of the furniture in the lobby to round out the room’s new design. In no time, it was as if the Game Room did not exist. I looked over to Emily and Jessica, and I saw a flood of relief spread across Jessica’s face. She sat back in her wing chair, looking as if the ugliness of the morning was some sort of nightmare she had dreamt. Emily was a genius.

  “If you’ve got this covered, Stella, I’ve got some things to look into,” Mrs. Sterling said, and she headed upstairs. I hoped I had not gone too far in questioning her.

  I approached the fireplace and shared my candle idea delicately with Emily and Jessica.

  “I like it,” said Jessica immediately.

  Emily smiled, and I hoped I had redeemed myself from showing up with Simon’s cat.

  “I’m sure my mom thinks I should reschedule the wedding after what’s happened this weekend, but she doesn’t realize how much time, effort, and money our friends have put into getting here,” said Jessica.

  I could not help think that Mrs. Sterling had done a better job than she realized about teaching Jessica how the “other half” lived.

  “I was afraid Joe would be scared off, too,” said Jessica, “but he’s all for moving ahead. He said he’s hell-bent on getting that ring on my finger so he can call me his own. There’s no way we’re going to let anything curse our nuptials. If we can have a new unity candle, I’ll feel like it’s a sign that we’re unstoppable. We’ll show them all we’re meant to be together.”

  “Yes, you are,” Emily said.

  “Will you be able to re-create the beautiful floral design from my wedding dress on the new candles?” asked Jessica. She looked so hopeful.

  “Of course,” I said. The one candle had taken me five hours to decorate. I had an all-nighter ahead of me, but I smiled as if they were already done.

  Jessica rose. My phone pinged and I glanced down at my texts to find a message from one of my wedding clients.

  Sorry we decided not to have a unity candle after all. I’ll stop by next week to pick up my refund. Sorry!!

  Unbelievable. Cherry was right. Brides were superstitious. I realized that although Jessica and Joe decided it was bad luck not to move forward with the wedding, they could just as easily have decided the opposite.

  “I’m going to check on my mom,” said Jessica. “Emily, please call me on my cell if you need anything.”

  Jessica gave me her best smile, and excused herself. Emily and I headed to Ahab’s where Emily’s staff was at work on the rehearsal dinner and the florists were arriving. We made our way through the kitchen to our staging room.

  We looked around our room, which was in complete disarray.

  “Ugh,” said Emily. “I guess this was the trade-off.” The police had done a very thorough once-over
to dust, look for clues, whatever they do. The result, however, was that our perfectly ordered setup was now a project in and of itself.

  “Don’t worry about my end of things,” I said. I noticed that my candles were still somewhat grouped together, but I was still worried about their condition. I had a few extra candles on hand to be on the safe side, but not enough to replace the whole lot. If I hadn’t been so angry when I’d left town, I’d have probably brought more.

  I found my candles, and after resorting all of them into groups for the hotel décor, the rehearsal dinner centerpieces, and the boxes of scented gifts, I was relieved to see that only a couple of tapers had broken. I was lucky. Emily and I can sometimes go overboard with our organization, but today the efforts were paying off.

  First things first, I placed the candles meant to decorate the hotel in a flat-bottomed basket and put candleholders in another. From there, I headed back to the public guest areas, staging my creations throughout the lobby and surrounding rooms. The work was easy. I had a diagram of where each candle would go, so it was only a matter of checking off boxes. As I graced the rooms, I tried to look for something suspicious or out of place, but I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. Everything was very tidy, immaculate, and ready for business. Like the police, I concluded the action had taken place in the Game Room, but I had no excuse at the moment to go back into the room of the crime scene.

  Next, I returned to the storage room, which was becoming emptier and emptier as our decorations filled the hotel. Bits of tissue paper and scattered beads and unused vases were sprinkled about. I collected the candles that would be used for tonight’s rehearsal dinner at Ahab’s. The Sterlings had plans to seat about four dozen evening arrivals at round tables of ten. Emily had chosen varying shades of purple for the table clothes, punctuated with simple white flowers in tall glass vases around which I would arrange my candles.

  Inside the restaurant, the tables were already set for the evening and florists were arriving. I went right to work, placing an array of tapers in purple shades with a dash of deep blues around the vases. These candles were unscented, of course. Rule number one in candles is to never have a competing scent at a dinner table. Instead, I relied on colors and heights to seduce the Sterlings’ guests. Then, I laced the edges of the room with tea lights. The idea was that there would be no need for electric lighting once the evening began. We’d had a trial run about a week ago, and the effect was stunning. The room was both romantic and had the touch of history that Jessica aspired to. Plus, everyone looks great in candlelight, which always puts people in a good mood.