I waited a few seconds, but heard nothing. It occurred to me, however, that Frank might call the policeman stationed outside to come in and check on things. After all, there had been a murder in his inn last night, and he’d already heard something tonight. I realized if I was going to do this, it was now or never.
I opened the door again and crossed to the front desk. Very carefully, I lifted the ring of keys from the cubby where I’d seen them kept yesterday. I thought about how much easier it would have been to kill Simon in his room instead of the Game Room. It was easy to steal the keys. Entering his room and killing him in private, versus the public space of the Game Room, would have been a smarter move. I decided the murder must not have been premeditated. Something had happened last night to anger someone enough to kill Simon Sterling. I agreed with Bellamy about one thing. Simon Sterling’s murder had been a crime of passion.
I scurried to the staircase and began a silent climb to the second floor. When I opened the door, I found I could not move. I stared down the hallway, convinced someone would open their door. It wasn’t until I noticed the scent of my candles that I relaxed. Honestly, I was comforted to know that many people had already opened their gift boxes and lit their candles. Finally, I began what was probably a short journey, but which felt like a mile-long walk down the hall.
At Simon’s door, I stopped. I was happy to see that the yellow tape had been discreetly removed. Bravely, I lifted the key toward the lock, but then wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. I was sure I heard something or someone inside the room. Perhaps a creak of the interior connecting door closing. I paused and listened. Only silence greeted me. I was really losing it.
“Snap out of it,” I whispered. I reminded myself that I was part of the wedding staff and in need of a candle. I wasn’t about to kill anyone. Someone had already done that, and it wasn’t me. I just needed a candle for the bride and groom. Shaking off my fears, I plunked the key into the lock and opened the door.
Empty. But every shadow from the dancing trees and cloud-streaked moon outside was projected across the room’s walls. I was in a full-on sweat as I closed the door behind me. The first thing I did, of course, was stub my toe on the edge of the bed. As everyone knows, this is a wildly painful thing, but given the circumstances, all I could do was bite my knuckle until the pain subsided. Once it did, I began to limp my way to the desk where I’d left the candle. As I grew closer, I detected the candle’s faint aroma beneath the lingering scent of tobacco in the room.
“Joe?”
I froze at the sound of Joe’s name in the empty room, my hand in midair as it was reaching for the candle. The voice was Jessica’s.
“Joe,” she said again.
I almost fainted with relief when I realized the voice was coming from the hallway, not the room.
“Are you in there?” she said.
I said nothing.
Jessica said nothing.
A moment later, I heard the footsteps retreat.
After standing still for what felt like a million more minutes, listening for more noises outside my door, I picked up the candle box, thereby adding another robbery to the list of crimes that had occurred at the Melville this weekend.
Now, I harbored a secret, too.
I crossed the room, let myself out, and flew down the stairs. Neither Frank nor the police were in the inn when I reached the lobby, but I stopped for nothing. I slipped the keys back into the cubby behind the concierge desk and raced back to the safety of my workroom to finish the candle. Without pause, I ripped open the box, placed the candle onto the lazy Susan, and delved into my work.
Two hours later, I had finished my last design, summer. In the decorative circle for this final season, I drew a rose of Sharon, a flower that blooms on the island. I took the other three candles and placed them on the plate, spinning them softly to admire the true unity of my design. It had been a long night, but a productive one. And I had to admit how much I loved my work.
My body ached with fatigue, and without bothering to wash my face or remove my chef pants, I grabbed a few more aprons to use as blankets, climbed right on top of the table that had been my work space all night, and fell asleep.
Chapter 18
“Well, this was not a sight I expected to see this morning,” I heard Frank say. “What’s going on?”
My shoulder felt stiff on the hard table that had seemed as soft as a pile of feathers when I climbed atop it. I realized that a ray of sunlight was hitting my right cheek, like an alarm clock I was sleeping through. I opened one eye to find Frank staring at me. Without saying a word, I pointed to the new unity candles I’d put on top of a shelf.
“Were you here all night?” he said. “I’d have at least given you a cot.”
“It was sort of spur of the moment,” I said, rising and rubbing my shoulder. I hopped off of the table and pulled my morning hair into a ponytail.
“It was worth it,” said Frank. He approached the candles and gave the lazy Susan a spin. “They look fantastic.” He turned to me and frowned. “Let me get you some coffee. It’s already brewing. Emily and her team were over at the reception site this morning. They’ve already set up everything. It looks gorgeous. You, on the other hand, look like you’re doing a walk of shame.”
“As if,” I said. “Aside from a few cheese and crackers on your lawn last night, I was working my fingers off.”
“You still look guilty of something,” he said, walking into the restaurant.
I followed Frank, and sat in front of the most delicious cup of coffee I’d ever seen or tasted. A couple of guys from Emily’s crew walked past me to the staging room. They left a moment later with the unity candle, ready to drive it to the chapel where they told me that Emily was already at work. It was barely seven thirty.
“Have a minute?” I asked Frank.
“This is literally the only minute I will have all day,” said Frank, joining me. “What a weekend. I’ve had some good news though. Maude came back. Tough lady.”
“She is,” I said, impressed that Maude was back on her feet already. “You don’t believe that Bill killed Simon Sterling, do you?”
“It’s hard to imagine,” said Frank, ripping open a packet of sweetener for his coffee. “I mean, I’ve known the guy for a year now. He’s hardworking, nice enough.”
“I couldn’t help notice how quiet the inn gets at night, when all of the guests go to bed,” I said, wiping a phantom crumb off the table and getting to the question that had bothered me since last night. “Are you sure you didn’t hear anything the night that Simon was murdered?”
“Nope,” he said and stirred his coffee with energy. “I sleep like a log.”
“Frank,” I said. “A man was bashed on the head with a candlestick and died. There must have been some sort of stir. A crack, a fall, something. Even if Simon’s death was quick and his attacker surprised him, that kind of violence makes noise. You were so close.”
Frank looked into his mug.
“The thing is,” he said. “Boy, I need to tell this to someone.”
“What?” I said.
“I wasn’t in my room that night.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“I was with a friend,” he said, and scratched the back of his neck. “The guest who broke his ankle.”
“I didn’t know you were friends,” I said.
“More than friends,” he said. “I can’t have guests in my room, so I kept it low-key. I snuck him in for a two-night stay. The inn was basically empty this week, so I didn’t feel bad. But of course, I ended up having to pay for the rooms once it became a police matter.”
“So, you didn’t tell Bellamy?”
Frank shook his head.
“I told him what I told you—I sleep like a log,” he said. “I’ve been feeling so guilty though. Perhaps I could have saved the man.”
“I don’t think you could have,” I said. “You might have been able to give the police a clue, but you wouldn’t ha
ve saved him. He was hit hard.”
It occurred to me that Frank could have ended up on the floor with Simon if he’d entered the Game Room at the wrong time.
“I guess you both have an alibi,” I said.
“We do,” he said. “Lance’s foot is wrecked. I was taking care of him all night.”
“What about the other guests?” I said. “It feels like Bellamy interviewed them quickly, and before anyone knew it, Bill was under arrest. Who were they?”
Frank shrugged.
“The Hopkinses seemed like a nice family trying to get in a little break at the end of the off-season. I felt bad for them. The kid got sick straight away.”
“I noticed,” I said. “What about the older couple? You said they were talking to Jessica and Joe.”
“Ida and Al Heller,” he said. “They seem kind of old to lay a deadly blow on someone.”
“True,” I said.
“And they were adorable. They fussed over Jessica Sterling’s ring, and made Jessica glow. I think she liked showing it off to them. Even Mrs. Sterling chatted with them, before she said she didn’t feel well and went to bed.”
I thought about the ring. Jessica had been dismissive of it to her best friend, but eager to show it to the Hellers. She was certainly ambivalent about her mother’s gift.
“You don’t think the Hellers had anything to do with Simon Sterling’s death, do you?” Frank said.
“No,” I said.
“Me neither. Even Simon Sterling chatted with them,” he said. “I mean, there weren’t a lot of guests at the inn, so it’s not strange for people to say a word or two to each other. Joe had a nice chat with them after he checked in.”
“Why shouldn’t Simon be nice to them?”
“Well, he should, but he wasn’t nice to everyone. At least, it seems like he ripped off Joe and Tony at cards. And he and Mrs. Sterling really had it in for each other.”
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Maybe she started it. I saw her knock on Simon’s door before their family dinner, looking very cross. He opened the door and basically said, “Now what?” clearly not happy to see her. And he’d seemed happy enough a moment earlier when Joe left his room after a visit. Also, after dinner, she grumbled to Jessica that she shouldn’t have invited Simon. In front of him. But Simon was about the only person who isn’t afraid of that woman. He just laughed and told her she made more problems for herself than anyone he’d ever met and to put a sock in it.”
Frank took a final sip of his coffee and rose.
“Duty calls,” he said. “And, this look of yours today. If I were you, I’d get on the first launch out of here to wash up.”
“I have to check out the reception tent first,” I said.
Frank looked at me with sympathy, and then began his day.
I left the inn and walked across the street to where the tent had been erected for the evening’s reception. The tent alone was something to see. Emily had outdone herself. Three flags in the pink, blue, and purple colors of the wedding pierced the pointed tops of the huge white tent and flew in the morning wind, to herald the coming nuptials. The clear sides of the tent were pulled down and secured to the earth, to keep nature out. As a result, the tables and chairs had been delivered and set, the flowers and candles arranged, and the lighting for the band was ready to go. Even the place cards had been set out on the entry table.
“Gorgeous,” I said to myself.
“Stella!” Jessica called my name from across the room. I had been so dazzled by the space I had not noticed that she and her mother were also taking a sneak peek.
“Hi.” I waved, sheepishly. “I finished the unity candles! They’re already on their way to the chapel.”
Jessica’s face melted into a puddle of joy. Mrs. Sterling looked equally pleased. It was nice to see some of the tension in her face lighten. In spite of her misgivings about Joe, Mrs. Sterling had been absorbing a lot of the stress of the weekend, being strong for her daughter in order to move the wedding along.
After making sure that Jessica and her mother were happy with everything, I left for the launch that awaited me. Once onboard, I inhaled the clean morning air. The day was clear, not at all as chilly as it had been yesterday. It was as if the summer was starting along with the busy weekend. As the launch left, I looked back at the inn. There, I saw Maria Blane, maid of honor, with David on a small porch off of one of the rooms. I wondered what kind of candle I’d make for them one day. Lavender and lilac, I thought.
The breeze was a little stronger than I would have liked, so I curled up my legs as we headed across the harbor. It was only about eight in the morning and many tourist fishing excursions were returning about this time. Some larger boats were arriving for the weekend. The real yacht crowd, no offense to Peter’s small dinghy.
As I looked at the sea, I noticed the familiar silhouette of a woman with a ponytail speeding across the water. I couldn’t get a close look at her, but in the daylight, I noticed that her boat was not much larger than Peter’s, with a single engine. She was flying.
As the Melville’s launch pulled in to the pier in town a few moments later, I saw that Andy was waiting for me. He was holding a cup of coffee and a bag of donuts from the island’s infamous diner, the Downy-flake. Their donuts are the best on the island, and everyone who knows me knows I can’t resist their chocolate glazed creations.
“Morning,” he called out to the launch with a wave. “Busy night?”
He eyed my outfit as I disembarked in four-inch heels, Gina’s couture top, and a pair of chef’s pants. The look I returned dared him to ask me why I was still partially dressed up. He got my message and kept his mouth shut.
“Listen,” he said. He handed me the bag of donuts. “Frank told me you were heading back. We need to talk.”
“What’s up?” I said, realizing the donuts were a bribe as I began to eat them. I didn’t stop, however. “I’ve got to get home for a quick change before the store opens. The Candleers are having their last class today.”
He handed me the coffee and we walked down the wharf toward some benches where we took a seat.
“I texted you last night, but you didn’t respond,” he said.
“My phone died,” I said.
“Listen. I know you have some ideas about the murder, but I need you to back off on this sleuthing.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “You know as well as anybody that no one is giving this murder the attention it deserves and an innocent man is being accused. I can roll with a lot in life, but not that. We’re talking about Bill Duffy. I thought you’d be outraged, too.”
“I would be, except that things are looking worse and worse for Bill.”
“Impossible,” I said, my blood boiling.
“Bill put a down payment on a brooch at Jewel in the Sea on Friday afternoon,” he said. “Looks like he and Simon made plans to scam Joe Handler and Tony Carlson as early as that afternoon.”
“Bill and Maude are celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. He wanted something nice to give Maude. He weakened and did the deal with Simon because the brooch was expensive, but that’s where it ends. Well, it ends after the punch. By the way, there was five thousand dollars on the table that night, between the three men.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Andy. “Bill took it all, and there was twenty-five hundred. There was no other money on Simon or in his room, only a couple of twenties in his wallet.”
“Bill told me he only took his half of the money. That means there was another twenty-five hundred dollars,” I said. “Why would he lie?”
“Why didn’t you tell me this at the station yesterday?” said Andy.
Without saying another word, he took out his notebook, and looked at me.
“What?” I said.
“Let’s do this,” he said. “Who do you think did it?”
I knew he was humoring me, but I decided to take advantage of the situation.
“Where to start?” I said.
“How about Frank?” he said. “His room is closest to the Game Room and it’s odd he didn’t hear anything.”
“I thought the same, but Frank was taking care of the guy with the broken foot. He has an alibi.”
“OK, Detective Wright,” he said. “I see you’re a step ahead. How about Mrs. Sterling? She gave me a funny feeling when I interviewed her. I know you’ll appreciate gut feelings better than Bellamy would. I had a feeling she was keeping something from me. And as much as I hate to admit it, that trip to the Nantucket Inn was definitely unusual if we’re going to reopen our list of suspects.”
“Suspicious, yes,” I said. “But murderous, no. Especially if the murder is tied to that missing money on Simon. She has no need for it. The trip to the motel was a whole other story. She went there to give a photo of the maid of honor to the concierge.”
“And you know this because?”
“Because ‘needing to go to the ladies”’ is not always what it sounds like.”
Andy rolled his eyes, but I held up my hand before he could interrupt.
“Maria used to be in love with Joe in high school,” I said. “I think Mrs. Sterling is concerned that there’s still some hanky-panky going on because Joe’s been distracted this weekend. Frankly, I feel like Mrs. Sterling would love to stop the wedding. She’s very attached to Jessica in a not so healthy way. But I don’t think any of it ties back to Simon and his card game winnings.”
“Fair enough,” said Andy. “So where does that leave us?”
“I’m thinking that the money from the card game was not the only motive for murder,” I said. “The man liked to toy with people. The card game supports his reputation. But maybe someone else in his past was there to get revenge. I asked Peter to look into the other guests.”
“Peter?” said Andy.
I nodded.
“Listen, if you have any big ideas, please tell the police, not a reporter. We can handle things.”
“I was reaching out to anyone willing to help,” I said, a little more defensively than I wanted to sound.
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