“I didn’t wrap those eggs on my own.”
Smulder came back with the basket. “I hope you have more of those cupcakes. They ate this batch the minute I put the basket down on the table.”
“I can whip up some more.” Lauren’s face lit up. Baking wasn’t work to her. It was what she loved to do, and she disappeared inside before anyone could protest that she’d already made at least ten batches in the past two days.
Smulder lingered instead of following her. “Nice day, isn’t it?”
“We’re talking about the weather now?” I asked.
“Oh, Charlotte, when a handsome man wants to talk to you about the weather, it’s common courtesy to oblige. You wouldn’t want to drive him away, would you?”
Why did my grandmother have to say the most embarrassing things at the most inopportune moments? I opened my mouth to say something, anything that would drive Smulder off before he spotted my red face.
“Miss Franklin?” A man strode down the side path toward us, a stunning woman in her twenties rushing along beside him.
“Dr. Spitz,” Gamma cried. “You made it!”
“I wouldn’t miss a booked appointment, Miss Franklin.” He extended a hand that was tan and strong. He was at least in his sixties, and had lost his hair and shaved off the rest, judging by the dim shadow of an outline around his crown. His gray eyes were kind.
“Really, Dr. Spitz, we’ve known each other for years. You must call me Georgina.”
“Georgina,” he said, warmly. “I’ve come to see the kittens. You mentioned one of them was having tummy trouble?”
“The runs,” Gamma said, and extended a hand to the woman standing next to the vet. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”
“Rude of me,” Dr. Spitz said. “This is my assistant, Nicole. She’s been working with me for over a month now. She’s very experienced.”
“I’m sure she is if she’s working for you, doctor.” Was it just me or was Gamma flirting? Her eyes hadn’t left the vet’s since he’d arrived.
The vet’s assistant shifted, and my attention moved to her instead. My heart did a horrible whoop-swoosh in and out of my stomach. Nicole, who could’ve been a model with her full lips, golden hair and perfect makeup, was making goo-goo heart-shaped eyes at Smulder!
“The center’s around back,” Gamma said, snapping me back to the present. “I’ll show you where it is.” She walked off, leading Dr. Spitz by the arm, Nicole following along and occasionally glancing over her shoulder.
“I’d better get more of those cupcakes,” Smulder said, clearing his throat.
“Right. Yeah. I should, uh, I should go clean. Dust the shelves!” I skedaddled off to the front of the inn, strange flushes heating my skin.
I didn’t want to know what they were about or why it had bothered me that the vet’s assistant had a crush on Smulder. Likely, she was his admirer and that was it. So what? I didn’t care.
There were much more important things to worry about.
Like Kyle and the NSIB and the murder.
But I stayed hot all over until I’d entered the inn and fetched my feather duster from the cleaning supplies closet.
16
I trudged onto the front porch after having dusted the inn from top to bottom and wasting a half an hour of my time thinking about how strange my reaction to Smulder had been.
I sat down on the swinging chair on the front porch, smiling as Cocoa Puff the cat emerged from the bushes out front and ran toward me. He took the steps at a tear and leaped into my lap, purring frantically.
The warmth and pressure of the kitty cat eased my ridiculous troubles over Smulder.
It was Gossip, that was all. Living in this town and being subject to its ins and outs, the people, the rumors, and guests at the inn, all of it had twisted my perception of what was important and what I wanted.
Maybe I had to be an ice queen. If I softened too much, in any way, I’d wind up regretting it.
I had softened with Kyle and ended up hurt and terrified and completely betrayed. I would never allow that to happen again.
The chair rocked back and forth, and I tangled my fingers in Cocoa’s fur then smoothed it again, the vibration of his purrs traveling through my legs. It was a rare comfort I would never have had the chance to appreciate before coming here.
A rustling came from the trees out front, and Smulder emerged, carrying a spade and wearing his thick garden gloves. He didn’t notice me, and whistled under his breath as he headed toward the flower beds that flanked the front path. He set down his spade, bent and examined the blossoms, seeking weeds between their stems with sure fingers.
I opened my mouth to greet him, but the crunch of gravel stalled me.
Gamma, Dr. Spitz and his gorgeous assistant came around the corner.
“It’s really no trouble,” Dr. Spitz was saying. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay for a cupcake and some sweet tea?” Gamma asked.
“I’ve got an appointment out at the cattery,” the vet said. “But maybe tomorrow? I could stop by and check on Ruffian again.”
“That would be perfect,” Gamma gushed.
Nicole, meanwhile, had separated herself from them and strolled over to Smulder. She stopped right next to him, and he snapped upright, stumbling a few steps back.
Gamma and Dr. Spitz continued talking and took a slow walk down the path to where he’d parked his car outside of the inn’s grand gates.
“Hello,” Nicole said, almost breathlessly, blinking long lashes at Smulder.
Brian cleared his throat. “Yeah. Hi.”
He still hadn’t seen me. I was a fly on the wall.
“How are you?” she asked, and reached out to touch the breast pocket of his overalls. “You look good.”
“Sorry,” Smulder said. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Nicole,” she replied, blushing pleasantly. Her accent was strange, American, but not from Texas, that was for sure. “Nicole Jackson. I’ve only been here a month but… I saw you at the Easter Festival, and I thought it would be nice to talk to you.”
“Talk to me.” Smulder had lost mental function. He practically gaped at the woman.
That strange whooping-swoosh started up in my chest again.
“That’s right.” She took another step toward him and he floundered back. “I’m new around here and since you’ve probably been here longer than I have, I figured you’d maybe wanna show me around?”
“Uh. No, sorry. I can’t do that. I have work.”
“Work?” Nicole chewed on her bottom lip. “OK. I guess, I understand it.”
Understand it? Understand what? What a weird way to word a sentence.
“But if you change your mind…” The blonde bombshell brought out a slip of paper and a piece of card. She scribbled on it then slipped it into Smulder’s top pocket. “Here’s my number. Call me.” Nicole giggled then sauntered off down the main road. Smulder watched her go, his expression still stuck on ‘utterly shocked.’
Finally, he shook his head and turned back toward the flowerbeds. He froze halfway, his gaze landing on me. “Charlotte,” he said.
“I’ve got, uh, stuff to do.” I lifted Cocoa Puff and set him down on the chair then hurried into the inn. How embarrassing. Did Smulder think I’d been spying on him and his new… friend? It didn’t matter to me either way, of course. I wasn’t jealous or anything like that—if Smulder was interested in the gorgeous young vet’s assistant that was his business, apart from the fact that it affected our cover as a ‘couple.’
But that was fine, we could always have a fake break up and figure out how we could talk to each other without anyone knowing. Perhaps, very late at night?
I was on the second floor landing before I snapped back to the here and now.
What on earth?
The door to Leanne’s suite was ajar. Had I left it open after my cleaning? No, I hadn’t. Leanne had been cloistered inside
and hadn’t wanted me to clean up.
I strode over and peeked through the gap. Cold rushed down my spine.
Leanne lay on the floor, supine, unmoving, her eyes open.
She was dead.
17
“You didn’t touch anything?” Detective Crowley asked, his dark slashes for eyebrows drawn low.
I had called him the minute I’d found Leanne’s body, using the number on the card he’d given me earlier, after Bob’s death. “Nothing,” I said. “I didn’t even open the door. But I was cleaning in this room earlier in the week, and Georgina goes in to all the rooms to drop off wellness baskets now and again.”
This was true, but I had to add it in here because we’d both been in Leanne’s room. If they found our fingerprints in there without reason, we’d be prime suspects and neither of us could afford that kind of suspicion again.
“I see,” Crowley said, glancing past me at the room. It had already been cordoned off, and the cops were taking pictures from the doorway, wearing gloves but not entering the scene just yet. Police walked up and down the hallway, stopping at doors and knocking to speak to the folks staying on this level of the inn.
“Do you think the same person who killed Bob, killed her too?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Crowley said. “You leave this up to me, Miss Smith. Are you ready to give me a statement?”
“Sure.”
Crowley took me down the hall, away from the commotion, and we sat on a sofa in one of the inn’s alcoves. Crowley asked me for my version of what had happened when I’d found the body, as well as who had been in the inn at that time.
The list was incredibly long, thanks to the Easter egg hunt and the fact that we had an inn full of guests to consider. All the while I spoke, my mind ticked over what I had seen in Leanne’s room. She had been strangled, that much was for sure—no gun this time—but did that mean it was a different killer? Or was it the same killer who wanted the murder to look different?
And the ligature markings on her neck… I would discuss it with Gamma when I got downstairs. She would have insight on what I’d seen, and if she agreed with my theory, we’d have a lead without Crowley’s help.
Murder was bad for business. It was another one in the inn. More eyes focused on us and more press. In our case, any press was bad press.
“Is there anything else?” Detective Crowley asked.
“Not that I can think of. Those are all the people I know of, but if you speak to Georgina or Lauren, you’ll get a full guest list of all the families who are here for the hunt.”
“Thank you,” Crowley said, then handed me the statement. “Sign here please.”
I signed then got up, wiping my hands off on the thighs of my jeans. “Are you going to take fingerprints?”
“Yes, of course, Miss Smith. Investigators are on the way to process the scene. Unfortunately, it takes us a while to get them here. This is a small town, we have to outsource a lot,” he said, rising as well. “But don’t worry, we’ll be out of your way before you know it.”
Crowley was being nicer than usual. I didn’t know what to make of that. “But we don’t have to close the inn?”
“No,” he said. “We should be done here by the end of the day.” He checked his watch. “But that party you’re having downstairs will have to disperse.”
“The Easter egg hunt?” That was going to bum out Gamma and Lauren. And the kids. They’d already had one Easter egg hunt gone wrong thanks to a murder.
“Yeah. But before that happens, I want the list of attendees so we can catch up with them later. And all the names of the folks who are on this floor too.”
I nodded. “I’ll go get that for you right now.”
I left Detective Crowley with his officers. I passed a team of crime scene investigators, all dressed in goggles, jumpsuits and wearing gloves on the stairs. Things were happening fast. Good. The less disturbance this caused to the inn, the easier it would be for people to move on from it. It was lucky that the detective felt they wouldn’t need to spend too much time processing the scene.
I exited the inn through the kitchen’s back door and found Lauren and Gamma standing near the food table, talking amiably to some of the parents.
“Georgina,” I called.
My Gamma spotted the look on my face and came over, immediately. “What is it?”
I broke down what had happened and what the detectives needed, swiftly. “Let’s walk around the front of the inn,” I finished. “I need to tell you something about what I saw.”
“Right,” Gamma said, ever the pragmatist. “Let me get Lauren to take down names and numbers and break up the hunt.” She hurried over to Lauren but was back again before I could work through what I’d seen by myself.
We walked down the path and to the front of the inn, stopping under the trees.
“What did you see?”
“Ligature marks on her neck and bruising,” I said.
“What type of bruising?”
I described it to her.
Gamma tapped the side of her nose, her sharp eyes wandering back and forth. “Rings,” she said. “They were wearing rings. Lots of rings.”
“Trinity,” I hissed. “Trinity wears loads of rings, or she was on the morning she accused Bob of trying to kill her. Right before the Easter Festival!” My heart did a somersault and stuck the landing. “We might have her here.”
“Don’t be too hasty, Charlotte,” Gamma said. “Let me speak to the detective first.” She left me to consider the rings and Leanne’s murder.
I was convinced. Trinity had to have been the one to do it. I just had to figure out why.
18
Lauren and I stood in front of the inn, handing out Easter party packs to the kids who streamed by, most of them gleeful and red-cheeked after the afternoon of fun. That was the one positive out of all of this—the parents and kids didn’t seem too unhappy about the fact that the hunt had been called off short.
Everyone had gotten their fill of cocoa cupcakes and had found enough Easter eggs—though there were more hidden and Smulder would probably be tasked with hunting for them and bringing them in. My stomach growled, and I envied the kids and parents their treats. We’d packed them full of treats, including sugary churros, cupcakes, bags of chips and mini-pizzas.
Thankfully, there were some leftovers in the kitchen.
“Thank you.” Chrissy accepted a bag from me, grinning broadly. Trinity was nowhere in sight, but her husband, Jerry, stood next to their daughter and offered me a wan smile.
“Got everything you need, Mr. Malone?” I asked.
“Yes, thank you. This was a lot of fun for Chrissy.”
“Is your wife all right? She’s not here today.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jerry said, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She, uh, she went to go do some shopping in Gossip. You take care. We’ll see you at dinner.” He swept an arm around Chrissy’s shoulders and guided her off.
The stream of kids and parents continued, most of them moving down the road that led to the parking area outside of the inn’s gates. Others, guests who were staying at the inn, entered and settled into their rooms. The detective’s car was still parked out front, but it seemed the forensic team had finished their work, at least.
A woman strode down the pathway toward the inn, rather than away from it, glossy black hair falling to her shoulders. She was familiar, and I struggled to place her in my mind. A bolt of recognition shot through me.
Jacinta Redgrave!
She was the long-nailed, vicious editor of the Gossip Rag—Gossip’s newspaper—and she’d printed truly abhorrent things about the inn and my grandmother two months ago when the last murderous ‘incident’ had gone down. I’d threatened her for it in her offices and Smulder had had to drag me away. Nobody messed with my Gamma.
“Oh no,” I muttered. “No, no, no.”
“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked, as she handed out another bag of treats. �
�Charlie?”
“Stay here, Lauren. I’ll handle this.”
“Handle what?” she asked, but I was already off, squeezing past the waiting parents and kids.
I intercepted Jacinta a few feet from the line, putting up both my palms. “Don’t come any closer,” I replied.
“Ah. Charlotte,” Jacinta said, flashing pearly white teeth. “You remember me.” Why did she seem so pleased about that?
“How could I forget? You’re the wannabe editor who tried to sink Georgina’s inn.”
“Sink her inn?” Jacinta tittered a laugh. “There’s no need to be so dramatic. Now, I’ve noticed there are a few police officers hanging around, any idea why that might be?” She’d already brought her phone out of her pocket and directed it toward me.
“You don’t have my permission to record,” I snapped.
“That’s regrettable,” Jacinta said, tapping her phone’s screen. “But surely you’ll want to talk to me off the record. I mean, I wouldn’t want to publish any falsehoods due to a lack of information and if you tell me some things, I may be able to sift through the truth and the lies on my own.”
“There are no truths or lies for you to sift through,” I said. “You’re not making a cake.”
“No. I’m writing an article.”
“You’re not welcome here.”
“An article,” Jacinta continued, “about your boss’s penchant for drawing in trouble and murder. And corpses.” She added the last part with a happy tilt of her head. “You see, it can’t be a coincidence that all of this is happening here again. There’s got to be something to it.”
“Leave.”
Jacinta took another step forward. Her high heels were as black and glossy as her hair. “Oh come on, Charlotte. She’s just your employer. Surely, she’s made you angry at some point? Or done something that was unfair? No one would blame you if you wanted to speak out against her because of that.”
“You can have this on the record,” I said, leaning in.
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