The Hanged Man's Noose

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The Hanged Man's Noose Page 12

by Judy Penz Sheluk


  “I’ll have the special, with coffee,” Johnny said, “and hopefully Emily will join me back into the present.”

  “I’m sorry. I was just remembering…”

  Johnny nodded and put his hand over hers. “I know.”

  Emily felt her stomach flip over and her cheeks get warm. Seriously, she had to stop behaving like a schoolgirl with a bad crush. She pulled her fingers away from Johnny’s and handed the menu back to the waitress. “Just coffee for me, thank you.”

  “No wonder you’re so thin. You don’t eat,” Johnny said after the waitress left.

  “I had breakfast already.”

  “An early riser.”

  “I like to run five-miles most mornings, come home, and have a protein shake. But enough about me. Tell me about last night. What did you think?”

  “About the presentation? Or the bizarre exchange between Stonehaven and Arabella?”

  “What bizarre exchange?”

  “Sorry, I forgot you had left by then. I was about to come over and sit with you two when you up and left.”

  “I had some things to take care of.” Wishing now she’d stayed. “So what happened?”

  “First off, Stonehaven sat with Arabella. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clear he was taunting her.”

  Damn. And she’d told Arabella to be nice. “Sounds like his modus operandi.”

  “I take it you don’t care for him? Past history?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I have the time if you ever want to fill me in.” Johnny flashed an affectionate smile. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

  I’m sure you are. “Another time. Right now, I’d like to hear more about what happened last night.”

  Johnny was about to fill her in when her cell phone rang. Emily cursed herself for forgetting to turn it off. She hated people who answered their phones in restaurants. She glanced at the screen. Arabella. She let it go to voicemail, was about to turn her phone off when a text came through. “Call me. URGENT. Arabella.”

  “I know I’m being incredibly rude, but I need to return this call. It seems there’s some sort of emergency. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Emily stood outside the Sunrise Café, shivering in the cold winter air. She’d slipped on her gloves, but like a fool she’d left her jacket inside, thinking the wool sweater would be warm enough. It wasn’t.

  “Arabella, it’s Emily. What’s the emergency?”

  “I was at Garrett Stonehaven’s room at the Gilroy Mansion this morning.”

  “They gave you an appointment already?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what exactly?”

  “I may have said and done some things last night at the Noose. Some things that in hindsight I shouldn’t have.” Arabella paused. “I was worried I might have blown my chance to get the scoop on the investment side of the plan, figured if I went to see Stonehaven before he took appointments, groveled a bit…”

  Emily knew how much Stonehaven despised weakness. “Let me guess. Stonehaven dismissed you.”

  Worse.”

  “He wouldn’t let you in?”

  “He didn’t answer. So I tried the handle and the door was open. I thought I could do some snooping around if he wasn’t there.”

  “It didn’t occur to you that you might be taking rather big risk? What if he’d stepped out for a moment?”

  “In retrospect, it might have been a bit impulsive.”

  “A bit impulsive?”

  “It gets worse.”

  “Worse?”

  “Uh-huh. It turned out he was in.”

  Emily could imagine Stonehaven’s response when he saw Arabella trundle through the door. “What did he do?”

  “He didn’t say or anything.” Arabella’s voice broke. “He was already dead.”

  25

  Emily hated to ask, but she’d been in the news business long enough to know that if you didn’t pose the question, no one was volunteering the answer. And as much as she was growing to like her, Arabella could be a bit of a hot head. “Did you kill him?”

  Arabella sighed. “Seriously, Emily. Would I have called you if I did?”

  “I don’t know.” And there it was, spoken out loud. Emily wanted to believe Arabella was innocent, wanted to trust the person she’d begun to view as a friend, but how much did she really know about the antiques shop owner?

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. He could have died of natural causes, did you ever think of that? He was sitting there, slumped over in an armchair. He could have had a heart attack or something. Or it could have been an accident. A prescription bottle was on the end table next to him, an empty glass, along with a bottle of red wine.”

  “Have you called the police?”

  “No. I don’t think anyone saw me. Camilla’s car was gone. To be honest, I figured she’d be at yoga. And as far as I know, there isn’t anyone else staying at the Mansion right now. I hightailed it out of there, came to the shop, and called you. I thought of calling Levon, but I knew he’d go all ‘what the hell were you thinking’ on me, and frankly, I couldn’t deal with it.”

  What the hell had she been thinking? Emily waved at Johnny again, signaled another two minutes, and crossed her heart the way kids did when they were making a promise. He nodded and smiled. It was a warm smile, with no sign of irritation. She smiled back, feeling ridiculously pleased. “So then you thought of me?”

  “I didn’t know what else to do. I wouldn’t have known Stonehaven was dead unless I entered his room uninvited. And after last night—”

  “What about last night?”

  Arabella gave Emily a recap.

  “I see your point,” Emily said when Arabella had finished.

  “So what should I do?”

  “Give me a minute.” Emily shut her eyes and tried to think. “Are you absolutely sure nobody saw you?”

  “Positive.”

  “Okay, then. Go back to the Gilroy Mansion, knock on the door, call his name, try the door. You see him there and call the police.”

  “What if they ask why I didn’t call them right away?”

  Emily sighed. “How will they know unless you tell them?”

  “Right, you’re right. Okay, I’ll do it. Will you come over when I’m finished with the police?”

  “Text me when you’re back at the Glass Dolphin. I’ll come by as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks for believing me.”

  “I hope I’m not making a mistake.”

  “You’re not. I promise.”

  Emily wished she could be as sure. How much did she know about Arabella Carpenter? She hung up without saying anything more, dragging her half-frozen body back into the warmth of the Café and Johnny’s smile.

  “Sorry about that,” Emily said, taking her seat. “I hate when people do that to me. Take calls while we’re in a restaurant. It always seems so incredibly self-absorbed.”

  “I don’t think you’re self-absorbed.” Johnny pushed aside a plate that held the remnants of a toasted western and home fries. “Anything I can do to help?”

  “Thanks, but it’s a personal matter. Something’s come up. Back in Toronto. With an old friend.” Emily realized she was babbling. The kind of babbling liars did when they didn’t have a good cover story and were making things up on the fly.

  Emily could tell by the sudden tightness in his jaw that her story didn’t fool Johnny. Had he seen the name of the mystery caller flash on her cell? Seen the “ARA” before she’d slipped the phone back into her purse?

  Maybe. Probably. Almost certainly.

  She cursed silently. Why hadn’t she just told the truth? Admitted it was Arabella, upset about the evening before. Now Johnny would assume they were hiding something.

  Which of course, they were. Even the reason for this breakfast was moot, now that Stonehaven was dead. But Johnny didn’t know that yet, and neither should she.

&nb
sp; “Let’s get back to the interview, shall we? Tell me about the Main Street Merchants’ Association, and what StoreHaven could mean to its members and the town.”

  The tension left Johnny’s face, and he smiled, his dark eyes warm and inviting.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  26

  Arabella went on a food-finding mission the minute she got back to the Glass Dolphin. She whipped open drawers and cupboards throughout the shop, looking for something, anything. A stale Snickers bar, some mints, a pack of saltines. There had to be more than the tin of shortbread she saved for visitors.

  There wasn’t.

  She thought back to her “interview” with Detective Merryfield at the Gilroy Mansion. The man had the most enormous hands she’d ever seen, not to mention the biceps of a professional bodybuilder. He’d been more than kind, taking down her statement, explaining it would be a while before they determined the cause of death. “This isn’t like television where everything happens in an hour,” Merryfield had said, and his partner nodded in agreement.

  But the sniff of suspicion was out there. Because she had to admit, if Garrett Stonehaven had been murdered, things didn’t look good for her. Not after the way she’d stood up to him at the presentation, and certainly not after her toast. What if they found out she’d been at the Gilroy Mansion earlier this morning? She couldn’t bear to think about it.

  And there was something more worrisome. When she got there, the second time, the red wine and the half-empty glass had still been sitting on the end table where she’d seen them last. But the bottle of pills she’d told Emily about was missing.

  Which left two possibilities. Either someone had been in the room after her and taken the pills away, or when she had wandered in someone had been in the suite, hidden, and waited until she left.

  Either scenario was less than desirable. But how could she tell the police something was missing without telling them she’d left and come back?

  Arabella desperately hoped she could trust Emily. Emily would know what to do. Because Stonehaven’s plan, she was convinced, was at the core of everything. She may have been used to weeding out fakes and forgeries, but as a journalist, Emily would have contacts, ways to get at information.

  And at least once Emily got here she could break out the shortbread.

  Emily took notes as Johnny talked. She learned he wasn’t born in Lount’s Landing—another “Toronto transplant”—and that he had moved here after his older brother died at camp.

  “I was still in high school, but my parents were too grief-stricken to deal with me after Jake drowned,” Johnny said. “Graham Gilroy had been at the same camp as Jake, and his folks took pity on me and let me stay with them a while. I did a few odd jobs after graduation, and about ten years ago I opened It’s a Colorful Life.”

  “It must have been hard on you when Graham died in the snowmobiling accident.”

  “Wicked hard. Camilla and I pulled one another through. It’s funny, I never cared for Camilla before that. I always thought she married Graham for his money and his status. And frankly, I don’t think she thought much of me either. But Graham’s death brought us closer. We finally had something in common.”

  “Your grief.”

  Johnny nodded. “I know you’re becoming friends with Arabella Carpenter, and I’m sure you’re aware there’s some history between them. But Camilla isn’t the monster Arabella makes her out to be. Truth be told, Arabella can be a bit of a hothead.”

  “And Levon?”

  “Is still in love with Arabella, always has been, always will be.” Johnny smiled. “It’s the reason Camilla tries so hard to push Arabella’s buttons. Camilla is used to getting what, and who, she wants. But we’re getting off track. You wanted to know about the Main Street Merchants’ Association.”

  “I did. What prompted you to start it?”

  “Shops started closing up after the mill closed in Miakoda Falls. Main Street was at risk of becoming one of those dilapidated old streets no one bothers to visit, let alone shop at. I started researching towns that had transformed their own Main Streets.”

  “What did you discover?”

  “The most successful ones had formed associations or corporations, with the end goal of strengthening the economic, historic, and cultural characteristics of their respective communities. That’s exactly what I wanted to do.”

  “You seem to be succeeding. There are a few new businesses. The Hanged Man’s Noose, the Sunrise Café, the Glass Dolphin.”

  “Thanks. Poppy Spencer has been a great asset. She’s worked tirelessly with landlords to get vacant properties leased.” Johnny grinned. “Poppy can be persuasive. She’s also the one who brought Garrett Stonehaven into the picture.”

  Interesting. Emily would have to pay Poppy a visit.

  “There seems to be some controversy about his plan.”

  “Change is always difficult, perhaps all the more so in a small town.”

  “So you believe StoreHaven will be good for Main Street?”

  “I believe the potential is there, otherwise I wouldn’t be supporting the project. But ultimately its success or failure will depend upon the amount of investor interest.” Johnny looked at his watch. “I need to open the store. Can we pick this up at a later date? Possibly over dinner?”

  “A girl has to eat,” Emily said, and tried not to blush.

  27

  Emily arrived at the Glass Dolphin to find Arabella pacing the floor, a tin of shortbread in her hands.

  “Have a cookie,” Arabella said. “Scottish shortbread. Not quite as good as homemade, but darned good for tinned biscuits.”

  Cookies? The woman had discovered Garrett Stonehaven dead, fled the scene, and was concerned about cookies?

  “Thanks, but I just finished eating.”

  “Do you mind if I have a couple?”

  “They’re your cookies,” Emily said, smiling.

  “I eat when I’m stressed. But these are supposed to be for visitors.”

  “Have my cookie then.”

  “Now there’s an idea.” Arabella reached for a cookie.

  “So, fill me in.”

  Arabella told Emily how the police had taken her statement. From her description of Detective Merryfield, Emily figured him for the man in the front row at Stonehaven’s presentation. Which was interesting, and worth exploring, but at the moment Arabella’s predicament took precedence.

  “They didn’t say much. Took down the details, said they wouldn’t know the cause of death right away,” Arabella said. “I told them about last night at the Noose. I figured if I didn’t someone else would. I also told them I’d gone over to the Gilroy Mansion this morning to talk to Stonehaven like a rational human being. But the reality is if his death wasn’t an accident, I’m definitely going to be a suspect.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “There’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “The pills I told you about, the ones on the table next to him.”

  “Uh huh?”

  “They weren’t there when I got back.”

  “Not there? What do you mean they weren’t there? Are you saying someone came and took them?”

  “It looks that way.” Arabella looked miserable. “The thing is, Emily, if I tell the police something is missing, then it means I have to tell them I was there earlier. And if I do that, they’ll wonder why I didn’t call before.”

  It was a dilemma. But there was more to it. Arabella was possibly in danger—if whoever was responsible for Stonehaven’s death spotted her the first time round. A thought struck her. “Was Camilla back by the time the police arrived?”

  “Not at first. She drove up while they were taking my statement, came strutting over in her size zero yoga gear, demanding to know what was going on. Detective Merryfield told her I’d discovered Stonehaven dead in his room and that they’d need to interview her.”

  “How’d she take the news?”

  “At first she stood there, look
ing stunned. Then she started attacking me, said this sort of thing could ruin the Mansion’s reputation.” Arabella grinned at the memory. “I admit I used that to my advantage. I asked her point blank if I should have just left, not called the police. That shut her up.”

  “Quick thinking. Still, the missing pills are problematic.”

  “I know.” Arabella took out another cookie.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m hoping it’s what we plan to do.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. The way I figure it, everything revolves around Garrett Stonehaven’s plan.”

  “You could be right. But where do I come in?”

  “I thought with your experience as an investigative reporter and a journalist you might be able to help me find out the truth.” Arabella flushed scarlet. “Help me clear my name. If it needs clearing.”

  Emily knew she should call Michelle Ellis before promising anything. With Stonehaven dead, the assignment might be over, though Michelle might ask her to stay and report on the police investigation. She thought about Johnny, his vision for Main Street, the businesses and people that depended upon him and the Association he had founded. Businesses like The Hanged Man’s Noose, like the Glass Dolphin. For owners like Betsy Ehrlich and Arabella Carpenter.

  She thought about Carter Dixon. Not the easiest man to like, at least not the version she’d met, but a man who, at least according to the local buzz, had the best interests of Main Street at heart. Or at least he thought he did. She remembered February Fassbender, the invisible girl who “saw and heard things.” And in that moment Emily knew what she had to do.

  “I’ll help you find out the truth, Arabella. Or at least I’ll try.”

  “Thank heavens that’s settled.” Arabella closed the tin of shortbread, but not before taking out one more cookie.

  “You should call Levon and tell him everything before Camilla does.”

 

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