Marcus huffed. “Why don’t you come in and let me introduce you to Rene?”
I glanced at the bay window to find the woman in question watching us from inside as Marcus headed for the door.
“No one told me my father’s name,” I whispered to King.
“I kind of gathered that.” He plastered a smile on his face.
“What happened to Charlotte?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when we leave.”
“Honey, we have guests,” Marcus called out as we all walked into the house. Rene stood in the living room, her face pale.
“This is Tess, Mildred’s granddaughter.”
“Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand, and she shook it. “King was just showing me around town and trying to be neighborly.”
“Oh.” Relief etched her face as if finally understanding that I wasn’t going to spill the beans.
“You have a lovely home,” I said, gazing around at the warm, inviting décor and the family pictures hanging on the tan walls.
“Thanks.”
“To tell you the real reason I’m here, Marcus, I heard a rumor you got a new grill.”
Marcus chuckled and patted King on the back. “Come on, let me show you.”
I waited until the door shut. “We’re really here to ask you some questions, and we don’t have much time, so let me be blunt.”
“Yes, I was seeing John,” she whispered. “But it’s not what you think.”
“The kid next door witnessed you two being sweet with each other.”
Rene gestured to the sofa, and I sat. “He was sweet on me. At first, I thought he was just using me to get information on everyone in town, but that changed. It was painfully obvious he wanted more.”
“And you didn’t?”
“I love my husband, Tess.” Her eyes searched mine.
“Then what was the purpose of tea with Mildred and John?”
“How do you know about that?” she asked, her voice lower and a bit more desperate.
“It was in Mildred’s planner, and why did you seem so upset when you approached me in the café?”
“I was scared,” she said, inching to perch on the couch. “I was helping John, and I thought someone was following me, but when I showed up for tea, Mildred was lying dead on the floor, and I couldn’t find John, so I left.”
“How come you didn’t call the police?”
“I was scared no one would believe me and, if they did, that word would get back to the killer that I was helping and I’d be next.”
“How exactly were you helping them?”
“I work at the Shady Grey,” she answered, as if that should explain everything.
“I’m sorry, I don’t even know what that is.”
“I’m the bartender at the only bar in town, and people are much more willing to have loose lips when they’re drinking.”
I nodded. “The saying is true. You want the truth, just ask a drunk person or a toddler.”
The back door opened, and we both rose. She whispered, “I work tomorrow night. Come by and I’ll tell you everything.”
I smiled as King and Marcus entered. “It was lovely meeting you both. King, I think we’ve wasted enough of their time.”
“Oh don’t be silly,” Marcus said, resting his arm over Rene’s shoulder. “We’ll be part of the team cooking at the evening picnic after the fair. You should stop by, and we’ll introduce you around to the rest of town.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” I said.
King tossed his arm over my shoulder and grinned. “We’ll make sure to do that seeing how Tess already agreed to accompany Livvy to see her science project.”
“Of course.” I gestured with my hand and held in my glare for King until we reached the SUV. I rolled his arm off my shoulder. “How do you know I don’t have plans?”
“You don’t even know when the fair is.” King chuckled and closed my door.
He was right. I didn’t have a clue when the fair was, but that didn’t mean that he could just make plans. I might have guests to attend to.
He climbed in the other side and glanced at the book in my lap. “Next Saturday, check your calendar.”
I turned the book open until I found next weekend and found the entire day marked through with a big X and the word “fair” written at the top. I slammed the book closed again. “Fine.”
“So how did it go, Ms. Sleuth?”
“She claims she was working with them and found Mildred dead and ran scared. I asked her about John, and she said she loved her husband and that John liked her but she didn’t reciprocate the feelings. She offered to tell me everything at the bar tomorrow night when she’s working and we had more time to talk.”
“Do you believe her?”
I shrugged. “I’m on the fence. I guess I’d need to ask Livvy exactly what she saw them doing in the rose garden.”
“I’ll ask her,” he said, starting the engine.
“No,” I said, turning to face him. “You can’t. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“Tell me what? That she climbs out on that tree to feel closer to her dad?” He grinned. “Who do you think cut off all of the sharp limbs and keeps it trimmed?”
“You’re a good uncle.” I only wished I’d had the same growing up.
“I know that Mildred is from your dad’s side, but your mom didn’t have any siblings?”
“If she did, she never talked about them.”
“Why not ask her?”
I would be asking her next time she pops in or I caught her in a dream, not that I needed to share that information with King. “She died a long time ago. I’ve been raised by my dad, the man she married.” I turned to look at him. “Obviously not the sperm donor. You mentioned back there that Mildred also had a daughter. Whatever happened to her?”
He shrugged. “It depends who you ask. Some speculate Mildred killed her or has her locked in the basement. Others believe that she ran off with some guy, and a few think that she joined a cult.”
I chuckled. “Which do you believe?”
“There’s no telling.” He glanced at the book in my lap. “Maybe if you find other books like that one going back a decade, you can find one that tells her story.”
Or I could just go back to the Island and pretend I never even visited this town in the first place. That option was sounding better by the minute. Since I’d arrived, I’d been shunned by people who hated my grandmother, given a standing order to cater to everyone that shows up, and become involved in two unsolved homicides, both involving the inn.
“Why the long face? I was teasing,” he offered.
“It’s not that.” I tried my best to give him an earnest smile. “You know, maybe there was a reason my mother kept this from me. I’m not sure I belong here.”
“Tess, it’s been two days. Well, almost. You have to give it time. You haven’t even met everyone in town. God willing, that’s the last body and crime scene we find at the inn and you can find some semblance of normalcy, and when you do, you might come to love it here.”
The only thing this place had to offer was answers, and since arriving, I had more questions than when I arrived. My grandmother was hated but very efficient at foreseeing details. My father’s name was Alexander, and he had a sister, and apparently, spells work to turn men into pumas. Not that I’d be sharing that last bit with King. “You’re right. I’ll give it a few weeks, and if I still feel the same, then I’ll leave.”
“A few weeks isn’t a lot of time. Did you leave a boyfriend or husband back home?”
“Never married,” I answered.
“But boyfriend?” he asked.
“I’d met a guy before I left, but he was just on the Island working a job. We never got off the ground, but I liked him, and I think he liked me too.”
“Where is he now?”
“Another job in another city.” I smiled. “But we still talk via text.” I turned to look at King. “He mig
ht one day visit, but let’s hope that he’s not in town for work.”
“What does he do?”
“I guess you could say he’s in law enforcement, kind of like you.”
“Is he the one that taught you about investigating?”
“Oh Lord no,” I chuckled. “I’m beating him on the murder board. I think it drives him crazy.”
Chapter 11
I smiled at all of the faces around the dinner table. I could read the expectancy in their eyes as the caterer’s people distributed tonight’s meals. When the domes lifted, I was surprised to find a hamburger and fries on my plate. Not that I didn’t love a great juicy hamburger, but how had the caterer known I’d been craving one? I glanced up to find her staring at me with a grin on her face.
“Bon appetite.”
She disappeared, and I waited for the door to close behind her.
“Dig in.” My announcement was short and sweet. I wasn’t going to tempt how vicious these old ladies could be if I kept them from food. I told them all about the letter that had been waiting on the door and what the cryptic message had said about karma and deadly moves. They were just as stumped as I was about the meaning but it made for interesting conversation around the dinner table.
This time was a bit different. Instead of everyone being quick to leave, they lingered around in the common room discussing the local gossip in town. I met King’s gaze across the room while he spoke with Franklin. A soft smile crossed his lips. I guess it was his way of telling me to expect more of this instead of dead bodies. I smiled back, ignoring the women around me until Alma rose from her seat.
“Remind me again which way to the bathroom, dear?”
I pointed. “Down the hall across from the library. Do you need me to help you?”
“I’m old, dear, not dead.”
Ten minutes passed, and Alma never returned, so I excused myself to go check on her and brave the potential wrath. As I neared the bathroom, I heard her voice, not from the bathroom but the library. I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed over my chest and watched as Alma searched through the drawers of the desk.
“Need help?” I asked
Her gaze shot up to mine, and she grabbed her chest. “Lord, child, you’ve just about given me a heart attack.”
“What are you doing in here?” I asked, walking into the room and getting a good look around for the first time.
“I loaned Mildred a book, and I wanted to get it back,” Alma muttered, slamming the last drawer shut.
“Which book? I’ll help you look.”
“My gardening book on potent, dangerous herbs. She was researching something in it.”
“Researching what?”
“I don’t know. She was very secretive, almost like she’d been going to plant something illegal.”
“Mildred?” I gawked. From what I knew of my grandmother, Mildred wouldn’t do something like that, unless she’d planned in advance how not to get caught.
“Alma, what did you do? Fall in?” Helen called as the sound of feet scurried down the hall. “We need to go, or I’m going to miss my show.”
“We can’t have her missing Dr. McDreamy,” I said as Helen walked into the room.
“It’s not Dr. McDreamy tonight, dear. It’s that hot fellow with the rules that solves crimes for the Navy.”
“Gibbs?”
She pulled a knife out of her purse. “Rule number nine, never go anywhere without a knife.”
“I’ll finish looking for the book, and if I find it, I’ll have it here for the next dinner.”
“Oh, thank you, dear.” She patted my arm as she passed, and they both headed down the hall.
I walked them all out and stood on the porch with Franklin and King this time. Franklin inhaled the fresh air as if he was experiencing it for the first time. King nudged my shoulder.
“I guess I’ll see you around.”
I followed him down the porch stairs. “Oh, hey,” I said, “do you think you can give me directions to the Shady Grey so I can talk to Rene tomorrow night after dinner.”
He raised his brow. “No need. We’ll go together. I’d rather you not go in there alone.”
My lips twitched. “I’m not a kid, King.”
His gaze slowly lowered down my legs and back up to my face. “I’m well aware of that, Tess. The Shady Grey is on the outskirts of town and caters to a different clientele. It’s better if I go with you.”
King left me standing in the yard staring after him.
“He’s right, you know. They don’t call it the Shady Grey for nothing. Remember rule number nine,” Helen said, handing me her knife. “You take mine just to be on the safe side.”
“And don’t forget to look for my book,” Alma reminded as they passed by to get into their big pink Cadillac.
I waved them all good-bye and found Franklin waiting on the porch. “I thought you’d have disappeared by now.”
“What book was she looking for?”
“Some herb book.” I walked back into the house and locking the door behind me.
“It’s in the attic. Let me show you,” Franklin said, heading for the stairs.
I wasn’t so quick to follow. Franklin seemed like a normal guy, if not a bit odd, but no one had yet to question his whereabouts during the murder. For some reason, no one ever said why they didn’t think he was a suspect. “Where were you during the time of the murders?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “In the basement.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?”
His look turned serious. “No. No one ever goes into the basement, but if you’re concerned I did it, you can just use your magic to stop me from attacking you, although you needn’t worry.”
“I bet that’s what all the serial killers say, and who says I can do magic?” I grumbled, following him to the end of the hall on the third floor.
“You’re Mildred’s granddaughter. Of course, you can do magic.” He pulled open a door and gestured inside. “Ladies first.”
I shook my head. “Not likely.”
He chuckled and flicked the light on and headed up the stairs in front of me. I followed behind him, gripping the locket around my neck in the event I needed to rip it off and let the magic brewing inside me fly.
At the top of the stairs, I glanced around the room. It was just like the parlor downstairs, with a sitting area and bookshelves and even a nook near the window with a settee in front of it for reading. There were no layers of dust, spider webs, or broken vacuums and boxes stacked in the corners. Even the scent smelled like fresh flowers, coming from a bowl containing rose pedals across the room.
“Not what you expected right?” he asked.
“Not at all,” I answered, walking around the room, which felt more comfortable than any other room in the house.
“Your grandmother and John spent a great deal of time up here.”
“Doing what?” I asked, studying the unique books on the shelves. I picked one up and flipped it open to reveal foreign words that I couldn’t even read. I set it back down and picked up a picture of a young vibrant woman, with two young kids, one girl and one boy. I spun around to Franklin. “Is this picture of Mildred, Charlotte, and Alexander?”
I don’t know why I asked. I’d seen pictures of myself at that age, and I was the spitting image of my biological father. Green eyes, the cheekbones, and the smile.
“Yes, they were rambunctious back then.”
“You can’t be older than me. How would you know?”
Franklin’s cheeks tinted. “Yes, right. Stories Mildred used to tell me.”
I set the picture down. “You said John and Mildred spent time up here, but you didn’t say what they were doing.”
Franklin moved across the room and opened French-style doors to reveal the mother of all murder boards. I’d be jealous if I hadn’t been in so much awe.
“Were they eliminating suspects that could leave the mysterious letters?”
“No, that e
xcuse was a ruse to cover the real crime they were researching.”
I stepped closer and smiled to see King’s picture crossed through. “What crime was that?”
“Mildred’s death, of course.”
I spun around to face Franklin. “She knew it was coming?”
He pointed to a piece of paper tacked to the board. It was the same stationery as the one I’d found. “She was warned in one of the letters.”
Chapter 12
I spent all night in that room, going over everything on the board and looking through the other stuff in the room she’d kept hidden from visitors downstairs. Franklin had left quickly after a glance at his watch with muttered words about being late.
It seemed the caterer wasn’t the only one anal about what time it was. I’d found Alma’s book sitting on the stand near the chair and flipped it open to find some of the contents highlighted, a page dog-eared, and a single herb pressed between the pages.
I’d eventually fallen asleep trying to figure out which herb was in the pages and why it had been important, to no avail. A knock sounded on the attic door, and I jogged down the steps to find Franklin waiting for me.
“Time to eat.”
I followed behind him. “That would be fabulous, but I haven’t been to the grocery store yet.”
“I had everything restocked,” he announced, turning the corner to the kitchen. “And don’t worry, it’s all still sealed so you know I’m not trying to kill you.”
“You know I wouldn’t think that if I could prove your alibi.”
He pulled out a bowl and grabbed a box of cereal, showing me it was unopened. “This is your favorite, right?”
“How could you possibly know that?” I asked, taking the graham cracker cereal out of his hands. I ripped into the bag, poured it into a bowl, and held it over his, waiting to see if he wanted the same thing.
“Oh no, I don’t eat processed foods for breakfast.” He grabbed an apple and set it in front of his plate before grabbing the milk and handing it to me. We were eating with easy banter when I told him that I hadn’t found the herb I was looking for. “Take a look. There’s a sample inside.”
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