Pouring myself a cup, I dumped some cream and sugar in it before wandering through the house. It was a disaster area as I hadn’t bothered to clean up after the guests left. My staff had been fantastic and wrapped up all the food, stowing it in the massive refrigerator. I would put it all out around midday for anyone that felt well enough to venture out of their room.
There were paper cups and plates strewn all over, orange and black balloons drifting through the living room and hallways, and random pieces of costumes tossed aside. A set of devil horns here, a fake mustache there. My lips quirked as I picked up a pile of white netting that turned out to be a tutu for a toddler.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon and I opened the French doors that connected the living room to the expansive back patio. The air was crisp and I was glad I’d chosen a sweatshirt this morning. Goosebumps rose on my arms and I took another sip of hot coffee. What a glorious day it was going to be. Sunny and absolutely perfect.
The patio tables were no less a mess and I mentally calculated how long it would take to set the inn to rights. This wasn’t my first year doing it and I had a system now. I wished I’d paid more attention when my grandmother was alive and running the inn but back then I’d never thought I would be here. When I was young all I wanted to do was get out of Ravenmist. Now I never wanted to leave, unless it was for a vacation or maybe a quick shopping trip into the city to get their famous pizza.
A set of orange and black helium balloons were whipping in the wind and I didn’t want them to float away. I’d read articles about how terrible balloons were for animal life and the environment. I thought that I’d brought all of them in last night but obviously I’d missed a few.
I managed to untie them from the railing and turned to head into the house when my gaze landed on the apple bobbing tub a few feet away. I blinked a few times and shook my head, not sure exactly what I was seeing. The sun, however, was now higher in the sky and the image was unmistakable.
A man. Face down in the tub full of apples and water, a knife protruding from his back up near the neck. An arm hung down with the same gold watch wrapped around its wrist that I’d seen yesterday.
There were no bubbles on the surface of the water to indicate that he was still breathing.
Heavens to Betsy, Jerome Bergstrom was dead.
Chapter Four
Every person in Ravenmist must have heard the news because there were people everywhere I looked, stuffed into every corner of the inn and grounds. Garrett had taped off the area with yellow crime scene tape and the county coroner had pulled the body from the water.
Note to self. Stabbing and drowning is not a pretty way to die.
Second note to self. Jackson Garrett took murder very seriously.
He was currently wearing a grim expression and growling at two of his deputies, who both looked extremely hungover. The family and friends of Jerome Bergstrom had been cordoned off in my drawing room with a third deputy guarding that door. He looked hungover too, his skin tinged green as if any minute he was going to boot up the contents of his stomach. I’d placed a garbage can close by just in case. The last thing I needed was for him to sully the antique umbrella stand in the corner. It was over a hundred years old.
I was trying to be everywhere at once, organizing food for the police and the coroner, plus all the guests who were now wide awake and curious about what had happened. They’d expected ghosts and got a dead body instead.
This probably wasn’t going to be good for business.
I was also trying to assure my guests that this wasn’t a usual occurrence in Ravenmist. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last murder in our little town. Maybe when I was a child? In other words, they had nothing to fear.
Missy had arrived at some point along with my parents, who had been a no-show last night. I was still wondering about that and the minute I had time to take a breath I was planning to ask them what had happened. I couldn’t remember a time when they’d missed the festival. I hoped they weren’t ill.
Garrett pulled me aside as I was directing one of my kitchen staff to serve the leftover food buffet style. My mother was waving at me to get my attention but the sheriff was determined to talk to me first.
“I need your official statement.”
Missy was now talking to my parents and leading them to the food. That should keep them busy for a few minutes.
“I gave you my statement already. I’m not going to change it.”
Garrett rubbed at his chin. “You said you came out here and found him face down in the washtub filled with water and apples.”
“That’s correct.”
“And?”
Not sure what he wanted me to say and really not liking his tone, I crossed my arms over my chest protectively. “And what? That’s what happened. I saw his body and ran back into the inn to call you.”
“And you didn’t touch or move the body?”
I shuddered at the thought. “Um…no.”
“But when you called you said it Jerome Bergstrom. How did you know?”
That was what this was about? He needed to stop playing “Columbo”.
“I saw that gold watch on his wrist. He was wearing it when he checked in yesterday. It wasn’t hard to recognize.”
“Someone else could have one like it.”
My lips twisted and I shook my head. “I doubt it. It was certainly…one of a kind and not in a good way.”
It was butt-ugly. Was he going to make me say it out loud?
“And while you were waiting for me to get here you informed Mrs. Bergstrom about her husband?”
“No.”
“She was downstairs when I got here. Did one of the staff alert her?”
I huffed, slightly impatient with all the questions. I’d only found the body. I didn’t know who killed the poor man. Did I have to do all of the work for the sheriff?
“I doubt it, although it’s possible. I was pretty much the only one awake and then a few kitchen staff showed up. I guess they could have after I told them to stay out of the backyard. I didn’t want to contaminate your crime scene, Sheriff.”
I’d watched all the reruns of “Sherlock” on Netflix at least twice.
“I appreciate that, Tedi, although I’m not sure it’s doing any good now. Is all of Ravenmist here?”
“It’s a small town. Word travels fast.”
He flipped a page in his little notebook where he was making notes. “In Chicago I didn’t have an audience.”
“I should have sold tickets. Now am I done?”
“One more question. What were you doing out here in the first place?”
Sighing heavily, I looked around for my cup. “I was having some coffee – which seems to have disappeared – and I stepped outside to watch the sunrise and see how much cleaning we had ahead of us today. Nothing nefarious, I can assure you.”
Grimacing, he nodded toward the horde of people milling in my inn and on my lawn. “I don’t think you’re going to get much done today. They’re only making it worse. I will keep them off this side of the patio though, and that means your staff as well. That’s my crime scene.”
It was my inn but I was okay letting him borrow part of it for awhile. I wouldn’t be visiting that particular area of the back patio for a long time without seeing Jerome Bergstrom slumped over in the apple tub with a knife in his back.
“Do you know who did it yet?”
Lifting his arm, Garrett checked his watch. “Considering I’ve been here less than two hours, the answer would be no. Shockingly, not one person has run up to me and confessed, either. Why? Do you know who did it? You said you didn’t see anyone.”
I held up my hands in surrender. Touchy, wasn’t he? “I didn’t see anyone. This entire area was deserted. I was just asking. You’ve been asking lots of questions. I thought you might have a few answers by now.”
He nodded toward the inn. “The most important questions are still to be asked. I need to speak to Lor
na Bergstrom.”
The wife. Statistically speaking, the most likely suspect. At least that’s what I’d seen on television. Plus, she’d wished she’d never married the dearly departed Jerome. That would be an interesting conversation. Too bad I wouldn’t be allowed to listen.
Or would I? My closet was on the other side of the wall of the drawing room where Lorna Bergstrom was currently waiting.
I really needed to clean out my closet.
Deep in the recesses of the small space, I had shoved my old corporate America clothes along with my wedding dress that I kept saying I needed to sell on eBay. Or burn in a backyard sacrifice to the gods of barbecue chicken and potato salad. I really wasn’t fussy about how it exited my life. It had been hideously expensive for something so simple but that was a little tidbit I’d learned when shopping for the infernal thing. The simpler the dress, the more it cost.
Shoving past a wool winter coat, I tripped over a pair of high heeled brown boots. Muffling the four-letter word that instantly came to my lips, I rubbed my knee that had come in contact a pair of red pumps that looked amazing with a little black dress. The box with my veil, shoes, and petticoat should have also been in my way but instead it was pushed to the side and propped against the hanging clothes. I didn’t remember moving it, but then weird stuff was always happening and I really never knew where any item was going to be located. I’d grown used to it over the years and this time it was just lucky. I was able to wedge right next to the wall.
There was no need for a glass like in the movies or to press my ear to the wall. This house was old and there had been a fair amount of renovations and additions to the home. This section of the house had been an add-on and the person who had done the construction hadn’t bothered to take out the window to the outside, simply leaving it in the wall of my closet.
Knowing my grandmother, she hadn’t thought it was a big deal since it was only a place to hang one’s clothes. She’d placed a heavy drape over it on the wardrobe side and probably forgotten all about it. It looked quite decorative from the drawing room. Few people had any idea that my walk-in closet was on the other side.
It was that red velvet drape that I lifted ever so slightly so I could hear what was being said. Just a few inches. I couldn’t see what was going on but I should be able to listen with no problem.
Right now, several people were talking, all trying to be heard and I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Finally, a man cleared his throat – it had to be Garrett – and everyone quieted down.
“Take your time, Mrs. Bergstrom. No detail is too small. What happened after you and your husband left the party?”
There was a sniffle or two. Probably Lorna, although it might be the friends.
“I’ve just lost my husband. Can’t this wait?”
“I’m afraid not. There are a few hundred tourists in town and they could leave at any moment. One of them might have done this.”
“Then tell them not to leave.”
Right. Like Garrett could physically stop them. I had to stifle a giggle at the image of him lying down on the road to block their escape.
“I have, but legally I can’t force them to stay, ma’am. If you want me to find your husband’s killer, I need you to help me.”
“Lorna, the sheriff needs your help. What do you remember?”
That was a woman’s voice. It must be Cherie Mullaney.
“There was nothing out of the ordinary. We went up to the room together and got ready for bed. He talked about a business meeting he had in the city on Monday morning. Then we fell asleep. When I woke up he was gone. I assumed he was downstairs getting coffee and a newspaper, but then one of the maids knocked on the door and told me that there had been a murder downstairs.”
“What did you do then?”
That was Garrett again.
“I threw on some clothes and ran downstairs.”
“No, you knocked on our door on the way.” Another masculine voice. Roger Mullaney. “And we went downstairs with you.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Lorna Bergstrom sounded as if she was out of breath and had run a marathon. “Of course, I stopped and got you two first and then we went downstairs.”
Or not. Lorna didn’t sound too darn sure about that. It was a simple detail and she’d missed it. Did that impugn all of her statement? I wasn’t sure, but I personally wasn’t feeling the truth vibe from the older woman.
Garrett wasn’t done. “You didn’t wake up when your husband got out of bed? Is that usual for you?”
“Jerry works until all hours. I’m used to him coming to bed late and getting up early. But last night I took a little sleeping pill to help me get some rest. I don’t sleep well away from my own bed.”
Everyone was different, but I always woke up when my louse of an ex got out of bed. He wasn’t an early bird but he did suffer from insomnia, and when I say suffer that means I did right along with him. When he couldn’t sleep he didn’t want anyone else to sleep, either. If I wouldn’t entertain him, then he’d call up a friend whether it was two in the morning or two in the afternoon.
“That’s very convenient, ma’am. Do you have a prescription?”
You tell ’em, Sheriff. It was a trifle too convenient to have slept through the entire murder.
“They’re mine, Sheriff.” Cherie’s voice. “I loaned one to Lorna when she said she was going to have trouble sleeping. I can get the bottle for you if you’d like to see what they are.”
“Yes, please. One of my deputies will escort you.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I know the way.”
“Actually…it is.”
There was silence and I wished I could see their expressions. Cherie must have decided not to say anything because I heard a door open and close along with some footsteps. She must be headed to her room.
“I hope you don’t think any of us did this, Sheriff. We’ve been friends with Jerry and Lorna for years.”
Roger’s voice. He sounded shocked, which was crazy. Didn’t he watch any mysteries? Close friends and family were always suspects.
“Right now, I haven’t ruled anyone out. What were you doing early this morning, Mr. Mullaney?”
“Now see here, I won’t be talked to this way. I’ll call a lawyer.”
“If you feel that you need an attorney, then you should call one. I’m going to need Mrs. Mullaney’s whereabouts as well.”
I heard a huff of exasperation before the reply. “She was asleep. Next to me all night.”
“Were you asleep?”
“Of course.”
“Then how can you know for sure?”
“Lorna, I’d advise you not to answer any more questions until we get Byron down here,” Roger said with another huff. If he wasn’t careful he was going to hyperventilate. “The sheriff doesn’t have any suspects or clues and he clearly needs to pin this on someone.”
I wasn’t a fan of Jackson Garrett but he didn’t seem the type, although I’d been fooled before. I prided myself, however, on not being fooled twice.
“I’m going to run this investigation as fairly as possible, Mr. Mullaney, and that means treating everyone equally until they are ruled out as suspects.”
“I was in my room. Surely this inn has security cameras? Pull the footage and you’ll see.”
What did he think this place was? The Marriott? It was a two-hundred-year-old inn that had last been rewired in the eighties before the internet and Wi-Fi.
Located in the safest town in America.
“I’ll find Tedi right now and ask her.”
Garrett better not find me on the other side of the wall. I dropped the heavy drape and as quietly as I could and crept out of the closet and into my bedroom. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I smoothed down my hair. Time to give them the bad news.
They’d have to find another way to prove their innocence.
Chapter Five
When I left my apartment Garrett wasn’t anywhere around, wh
ich was a relief. I’d have to deal with him eventually but the later the better, as far as I was concerned. I headed straight to the kitchen to check on how the leftovers were holding out and also if they’d started dinner preparation. The inn wasn’t going to do a lunch service today because of the festival and I wasn’t planning on feeding the entire town, either. Once the food from the festival was gone, it was gone. Most of the townsfolk would wander away when the free eats disappeared, although a few diehards would hang around. They weren’t here for the food but the murder.
The kitchen was bustling with activity, but it was the man and woman sitting at the huge kitchen island that caught my attention. My wayward parents who hadn’t shown up last night. I’d assumed one of them was hospitalized or on their deathbed with malaria or some flesh-eating disease.
“Mom. Dad. I’ve been worried about you. Did you get my messages?”
I’d left several but not past nine-thirty. My parents – Dan and Peggy Hamilton – liked to turn in early and if they weren’t feeling well I didn’t want to disturb their sleep. They looked, however, healthy as could be with pink cheeks and big smiles. My dad’s once blond hair had turned gray but his blue eyes still twinkled with life and energy. My mother was an older version of me, right down to the auburn hair and brown eyes. Both of them currently had a plate of food so they weren’t fighting a bout of stomach flu.
Peggy and Dan exchanged a glance before my mother patted the bar stool next to her. “Come join us, dear. We’re having a bite to eat.”
I slid into the seat next to my mother and pinched a piece of brownie from her plate. “Seriously, I was worried about you last night. You never miss the festival. It’s a tradition.”
Another glance between them. Something fishy was going on. Had Aunt Hattie escaped from the senior center again and gone on the run? Last time it had taken ten days to find her shacked up with a Hell’s Angel.
Did I mention that my family could be described as colorful and entertaining? At least my mom’s side.
Eat, Drink, and Be Scary (A Ravenmist Whodunit Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 3