Trouble on the Books

by Essie Lang

  Okay, so she had two scenarios. One involved smugglers, and she knew she had no hope at all in following that line of inquiry. She’d have to believe Zack could do it and that he might share information at some point. Or maybe Cody had done some more reading on the subject and had some theories. She hadn’t seen him since opening day at the castle. She’d have to check his schedule and make sure to stop by the main store to visit with him.

  The second scenario, in which someone from town was the murderer, she could handle by asking more targeted questions. She would ask Edie and Trudy to come up with a list of people and the reasons why they might be guilty. As for Carter, she thought a face-to-face chat was in order. Relatives were always on the suspect list. She knew that from TV and from reading far too mysteries, and while she suspected there wasn’t tons of money or the title to a different castle on a nearby island in the family, relationships could get awfully entangled and even, sometimes, messy.

  She leapt out of bed energized and ready to put her plan into action. As she ate her cereal, she phoned Edie and asked for a list, then she asked if she had Carter’s phone number.

  “Be careful with that one,” Edie warned. “I don’t like him very much. He seems two-faced, if you ask me. Although he was the apple of Loreena’s eye and her only living relative, or so I believe. Maybe that’s something you could ask him about. Also, Chrissie Halstead may have her hand in this also, although I can’t think of any reason offhand except for helping Carter. By the way, thanks for doing this, Shelby. Just be careful and promise me you’ll back off right away if something or someone seems a bit hinky.”

  “Hinky?” She stifled a chuckle.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. Now, you have a restful day and I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

  “And like I told you before, you should definitely try to have a chat with Mae-Beth Warner. She’s in charge of the workshops. She’s usually aware of most things happening in the castle.”

  “I almost forgot. Thanks, I will.”

  Shelby hurriedly showered and dressed, grabbed a latte at Chocomania, promising Erica they’d get together on the weekend, and just barely made it to the shuttle.

  After going through the store’s opening routine, Shelby excused herself, leaving Taylor in charge, and went in search of Mae-Beth Warner. She found her in the back office, off the pantry, going through a stack of notes at the desk. The only other furniture in the tiny room was a filing cabinet, a chair for a visitor, and an old-fashioned scuffed oak coat stand, the type that stood upright with large brass hooks near the top.

  She knocked on the open door, hoping not to startle Mae-Beth, who looked like she would be more at home playing euchre at the seniors’ center.

  “Oh, come in, Shelby. It is Shelby, isn’t it?” Mae-Beth wore her silver-blue hair in a pageboy that reached her shoulders. The coloring was obviously one of the favorites at local beauty shops, Shelby thought, because she’d seen so many retirees sporting it lately.

  “It is. You have a good memory, since we only met once, and that was before the castle opened for the season.”

  “I don’t have very good knees, which is why I’m grateful for the elevator in Blye, but I do pride myself on my memory.”

  “Great. That might be a big help, actually. I wondered if you might have a couple of minutes? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  “Sure, dear. Have a seat. Just stick that pile of flyers on the floor. I must find some way to add some counter space in here, but I think it’s a lost cause. Anyway, what would you like to know?”

  Shelby did as she was directed, sitting on the only other chair in the room, and then leaned forward, trying to draw Mae-Beth into something conspiratorial. “Well, I’m sort of asking questions to try and find out what happened to Loreena. And I thought, with your position here and at the Heritage Society, you might be able to fill me in on some things. For instance, can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm her? Maybe not kill her, because, who knows, there might have been an argument and, in the heat of it, Loreena was pushed and fell into the grotto.” That thought had just come to her as she was talking, and it sounded right.

  “So, you mean, it wasn’t deliberate or, rather, premeditated?”

  “Exactly. You know how, when you’re angry, it’s so easy to just say or do something without really thinking about the consequences?” The minute she said it, she realized that calm, sweet, concerned Mae-Beth would never do anything like that.

  Mae-Beth’s reaction confirmed her suspicions. She shook her head. “Not really, dear, but I’m sure it can happen like that. And, keeping that in mind, I can’t really think of anyone here at Blye who might get that angry at her.”

  Except me. Or maybe, Matthew.

  “But maybe at the Heritage Society,” Mae-Beth continued. “There’s always a lot of politicking going on behind the scenes, and Loreena made sure she was in on all of it.”

  “Politicking about what?”

  “Oh, this and that. Purchases, for example. Ticket prices. There’s a lot of financials that go into keeping Blye Castle open to the public, you know, even though we have a benefactor.”

  “I know nothing about any of that. Can you tell me more?”

  “Oh, I’m not the best person to talk to. I don’t have a head for figures. Never did,” she added with a chuckle. “But I just thought of something. Regan Jones—you’ve probably met her, too—she’s a tour guide here. Well, she and Loreena have had several sharp conversations about Regan’s appearance. It started last summer when she started getting tattoos, and they picked up right where they left off this year, too. Of course, when Regan showed up with a nose ring, that really set Loreena off.”

  “What can you tell me about Regan?”

  Mae-Beth looked startled. “Tell you? Well, I probably shouldn’t even have said that.”

  “I know. I’m feeling uncomfortable doing the asking. But it’s what Aunt Edie wants.”

  “Edie? Oh well, that’s that, then. She’s such a wonderful, caring woman,” Mae-Beth said, straightening her back. “I know you have the best intentions, dear. So, what can I tell you?

  “Did the arguments get serious?”

  Mae-Beth appeared deep in thought. When she answered, she looked relieved. “No, I don’t think it was ever really serious. It was mainly about her appearance. And then, Regan had some suggestions about how things should be done, and Loreena had her own thoughts about it. Like with tours of school students. Loreena had it all laid out, what parts of the castle they should be allowed to go into, how long they could stay in the gift shop, even though I wasn’t consulted about that, and even a time allotment in your store. That certainly got Edie’s back up the odd time.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Now, Regan, she thought they should just be allowed to roam. The volunteers know their duties and can keep an eye on things, and if something happens, they can call security.”

  “Why was Loreena against that?”

  “Security could lead to a scene of some sort and that could end up on YouTube. You know how kids are these days. At least, that’s what Loreena thought.”

  Shelby considered the information for a few moments. “So, how was it resolved?”

  “It never was. It was ongoing, but as you can see, it wasn’t anything earth-shattering. Regan, tattoos and all, would certainly never kill Loreena over it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  That was precisely what Shelby was thinking, but she wasn’t about to admit it at this point. Mainly because it did sound like a fairly unlikely reason to commit murder. Bummer.

  “Can you think of anyone else who might have had a rough time with Loreena?”

  Mae-Beth looked like she was giving it serious thought. “I guess I have to admit we didn’t really get along. But I certainly wouldn’t do her any harm. I can’t even kill a spider.”

  Shelby smiled at that admission. She couldn’t claim that. “May I ask
what upset you about her?”

  “The volunteers, of course. These are our friends and neighbors in the community. We’re all here because we love what we’re doing. Blye Castle has such an amazing history, and we’re all just so proud to be a part of this. But Loreena treated us like we were slave labor. She gave us no respect, and she thought our whole lives should revolve around this job; thus, we should be eager to obey her every command. That’s not how family treats family.”

  Shelby noted the rise in Mae-Beth’s voice. She was certainly passionate about Loreena’s perceived mistreatment of the volunteers. Could that be a motive for murder? She looked a bit closer at Mae-Beth and decided that she was no killer. There was no way she could picture that.

  “Thanks for talking to me, Mae-Beth. I hope I didn’t ask anything upsetting.” She realized she truly meant that. She cared about Mae-Beth and her dedication to Blye and all those involved in sharing its wonders with the world.

  Mae-Beth seemed to relax and smiled as she assured Shelby that was not the case. “I hope I helped a bit. By the way, you know you look a lot like your mother, don’t you? She was such a pretty young thing.”

  “My mother?” Shelby was floored. Here she’d been wanting to find out more about her mom, and Mae-Beth might be able to help. “You knew her? What do you remember about her?”

  “Oh, she was such a social butterfly. She took the village by storm, as they say. I didn’t really know her, just to nod at in the grocery store. It was such a shame that she died so young.”

  Shelby wanted to ask her more, but the phone rang and Mae-Beth signaled goodbye. Shelby would have to make a point of visiting Mae-Beth again real soon. She tried to put that conversation out of her mind for now and focus on a day of bookselling.

  Back at the bookstore, Shelby was pleased to see how crowded the space looked as she suggested some titles of nonfiction books set in the islands to a couple dressed in matching beige walking shorts and red polo shirts with logos for a Dallas golf course on the top left corner. She learned they were part of a bus tour from Texas and felt a particular thrill that her bookstore would be remembered when they got back home.

  After the numbers thinned and before the next boat pulled in, Shelby decided it was time to phone Carter Swan. She’d thought the best tactic with him might be meeting for coffee at the Coffee Café on her way home. She didn’t want to meet him at Erica’s just in case it didn’t go well. Defeat was better handled alone. He agreed immediately, which took her totally by surprise.

  As the rest of the day unfolded, she planned how to handle the meeting with Carter. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as customers just seemed to keep appearing, much to her delight.

  “What a busy day! A Saturday typical of summer, which is always good,” Taylor said as they finally closed the store door behind them. “That’s the fun thing about this business. You never know what the day will bring, although I would have thought that, with this fabulous weather, we would have had fewer customers.”

  “Why’s that?” Shelby asked. “I’d think that’s when they’d be wanting to take the boat cruises.”

  “Oh, for sure, but usually when they stop here, they tour the castle and then spend the rest of the time wandering outside. Blye has a reputation for its gardens that’s equal to its interior.”

  Shelby nodded. That shouldn’t have surprised her. Nothing about this marvelous castle and island should have been a surprise anymore. She realized that she, too, felt under its spell and understood totally the loyalty the staff had to the place. The splendor was apparent. What she wanted to know was more about its history, particularly in case the ghost of Joe Cabana had arisen to inspire smuggling once again. If that’s what was going on. Sometimes it seemed so logical a conclusion, while at other times, she realized it might be completely fanciful. She was letting the allure of the castle and its history influence her thinking. But it still niggled her as to why Zack was involved in the investigation.

  For all her faults, Loreena didn’t seem to be an expected murder victim, nor was it likely she was involved in any smuggling scheme, so that might not have been why she was killed. Although Shelby could very well picture her taking a break and strolling to the grotto, only to stumble upon the smuggling operation and get murdered in the process. It could be as simple as that, being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  That probably meant the person she should be speaking to was Zack Griffin, but she knew he wasn’t about to tell her much. She’d have to figure out a way of persuading him to do so. And she still had Carter to talk to. If it wasn’t smuggling or something to do with someone at the castle, it could be family matters after all.

  * * *

  Carter sat at one of the tables for two at the far end of the Coffee Café, his attention focused on his smartphone. Shelby picked up an espresso at the counter and joined him, waiting a few moments until he acknowledged her. He looked like he owned the place, with that Roman nose and full lips. He looked like he belonged in the castle. Now where had that come from? But she mustn’t romanticize him, not when the bookstore was under attack.

  She tried not to let her irritation show. As much as she relied on her smartphone, she tried not to be absorbed in it when others were around, especially someone who’d come for a meeting. She took a sip of her espresso and tried to focus on the flavor. Nice crema. It was a good rival to Erica’s, but she certainly wouldn’t tell her that.

  Carter finally looked up and then placed the phone on the table, not bothering to apologize. He didn’t even greet her.

  “I’ll be right back,” was all he said, and she watched as he went to order his own drink. He wore expensive-looking jeans that hugged him in all the right places, the kind that were also thread-worn, also in the right places. She knew the equivalent in the female section of the store cost more than she’d ever spend on a partial pair of jeans.

  When Carter rejoined her, Shelby didn’t feel the need to be polite. She knew she was being a bit childish, but she couldn’t help it. Hmm, childish and fanciful all in one day. She’d have to do something about that. She waited until he’d placed his cup down and then asked him, “How well did you and your aunt get along?”

  She took a bit of satisfaction at the look of incredulity on his face.

  “What makes you think you can ask me that?”

  She was ready for him. “Because I understand that Loreena wanted you to take over the running of my bookstore while my Aunt Edie was recuperating. For starters, that seems awfully overbearing to me, and I want to know if you were a part of coming up with that plan.”

  He sat back in his chair and barked out a small laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re worried about that? Can you seriously think I was ever interested in a small-time operation like that? It was completely Loreena’s plan, and I don’t think she was thinking clearly. I think it had more to do with her wanting to take total control of everything to do with the castle. Since your store is in it, that’s fair game to her. Or, rather, it was. I don’t know about her master plan”—he waved his hands around in the air to emphasize his point—“but it wasn’t mine. I have other plans.”

  “I also heard that her alternate plan was to buy the bookstore for you to run.”

  “Again, I have other plans. She never had to buy me anything. It’s all gossip, you know. Everyone has to have a piece of what’s going on, in this case, the sensationalism of Aunt Loreena’s death. So, if I were you”—he pointed his cup at her—“I’d ignore it all and just get on with selling books. And that way you’ll also stop prying into my life, which is absolutely no business of yours.”

  Shelby said nothing. She didn’t want to stop this flow but realized he had no more to say. She tried desperately to come up with another plan of attack. It dawned on her that she knew how to handle him. She’d had to deal with a couple of authors with attitude over the years.

  “If you think about it, anything to do with the bookstore has everything to do with me. My ques
tions weren’t meant to probe your personal life, though.”

  He looked surprised and didn’t answer for a few seconds, then his shoulders relaxed and his glare softened. “You’re right, I’m behaving badly. It’s not you. I’m just really upset by all this, you know?” He reached out and almost touched her hand but stopped and pulled it back. “My aunt and I had an argument the day before she died, and I’ve just been wishing it hadn’t happened or that I’d been able to apologize before all this. She was my only family and now she’s gone.”

  Shelby couldn’t think of a thing to say, she was so taken off guard. She hadn’t expected Carter to open up like this, and she felt totally uncomfortable about it. There went the idea of the villain she’d painted in her mind. She had to say something; he was looking at her. “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then finished his coffee. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to meet Chrissie.” He nodded and walked off.

  She sat for a few more minutes, even though her own coffee cup was empty. What had she learned before his emotional moment? Well, mainly that, as he said, the bookstore idea had been Loreena’s plan. Could she believe him when he said it wasn’t his plan also? Who might know more about it that she could ask? And more importantly, should she be concerned? Realistically, what would he get out of taking over the bookstore? She couldn’t think of a thing. And therefore, it probably had nothing to do with the murder. Another dead end, so to speak.

  Shelby decided she hadn’t really gotten anywhere, except yet another coffee. Her phone rang just as she grabbed her purse to leave. She saw it was Edie and sat back down again.

  “Hi, Edie. What’s up?”

  “It’s Matthew. The police took him in for more questioning a few hours ago, and I haven’t heard from him since. He was supposed to join us for supper, and that was twenty minutes ago.”

  Shelby looked at her watch. It was that late? “Well, they might still be talking to him, and it could mean nothing more than that.”

  “I know that Tekla Stone, remember. If she can drag it out to inconvenience him, she’ll do just that. But last time he called me was last night. I haven’t heard a thing from him today.”