By the time they’d gotten everything cleaned and put away the power was starting to flicker, then dull to a brownish hue. Just as they stepped out into the swirling coldness, there was a brilliant flash that lit up the sky, and the electricity died as the town plunged in murky, late-afternoon darkness.
“Transformer blew,” Meg explained, as if expecting it. She had to nearly shout to be heard above the whining wind. “It’ll be awhile before they get that fixed. We’ll be lucky if we keep cell service. We’re supposed to be getting lightning and thunder later. You okay at the Inn tonight, or do you want to come to my place?”
Amanda shook her head. “I’m going home. Jennifer said she wanted to do some cleaning and I’ll bet Oscar is hiding under one of the beds. Besides,” she said with a smile, “the safest place around is probably the oldest building that’s been through all this stuff before.” She hugged Meg tightly and they both walked to their cars, their hands stuffed in their pockets and their heads tucked down against the battering wind.
***
On the drive home, Amanda had to wrestle the steering wheel for control of the car. She could feel the relentless storm pushing against her SUV and shaking it as she drove carefully back to the Inn. Puffs of freezing air were pushing through the gaskets around her door and window, and she turned up the heater as far as it could go. A couple of times she had to dodge falling tree limbs as the violently-shaken trees had branches ripped from them. Pulling into her driveway, she tried to open the front door but it was locked tight. Jennifer must’ve gone home already. Sliding her key into the lock, she practically blew into the foyer, the wind pushing her inside as she slammed the door against it.
Oscar was sitting unrepentantly on the Inn’s marble kitchen island, apparently unconcerned about the sound of the storm shaking the old Inn. When Amanda walked into the kitchen and called to him, he jumped down and sat beside his food dish. Amanda had missed his feeding time and he was going to make sure she knew it.
“Glad to see someone has their priorities straight around here,” she told him, using her cell phone as a temporary flashlight while she headed to the pantry for his food.
The old Inn creaked and groaned as the howling winds battered it, but stood fast. It was already dark outside, so Amanda couldn’t see much, but she could occasionally hear thumps on the siding and roof as debris or branches hit the building. She lit some of her lanterns and set them around the front parlor, enjoying their soft glow. The one on the small table by the sofa gave plenty of light for reading, and she tried to lose herself in a book while the storm raged on outside.
As much as she tried to concentrate on the words, though, she just couldn’t. Her mind kept drifting back to her talk with Solomon and his telling her about Sally. With him definitely not a suspect anymore, it meant that whoever killed Desmond Martin hadn’t been caught yet.
She finally gave up attempting to read and lay down on the couch, pulling the heavy quilt up to her neck against the chill in the room. Trying to doze and ignore the sounds of the storm outside, she shut her eyes and relaxed, thinking about her day.
As her mind drifted, separate little pieces of conversation and what she’d observed started to come together. Details of everything that had happened began to coalesce as she turned them over in her mind, slowly crystallizing until one single, horrible, thought formed.
She sat up with a gasp, suddenly fully awake.
She knew who’d killed Desmond Martin.
Chapter 25
“Let me in, Mrs. Welch. It’s Amanda Graham. I need to talk to you!”
Amanda could see the lady moving behind the translucent curtains by the front door.
“I know you’re in there!” Even with the wind howling around her she was sure her voice would carry.
There was a click and the door was reluctantly cracked open. Not seeing a chain across the top, Amanda pushed against the door and shoved Mrs. Welch into the dark foyer.
“What are you doing? Get out!” Mrs. Welch hollered.
Amanda gasped as Mrs. Welch smacked her. Grabbing the confused lady’s arm, she nearly shouted, “I know who killed Desmond Martin, and you’re in grave danger.”
Mrs. Welch’s mouth formed a silent O. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had nothing to do with his death!”
“No, but your necklace did.” Amanda gripped Mrs. Welch’s upper arms, knowing she was scaring her. We need to get out of here. Have you seen anyone nearby, maybe around the house?”
As soon as Amanda had figured out who the killer was, she also realized that the storm would be a perfect cover for them to come back for a second try to steal Moonlight. No electricity, no phone calls. It was a perfect and deadly opportunity.
“No, nobody. The house is locked up tight.”
Amanda felt a surge of relief, but as she tried to get Mrs. Welch to walk toward the door, the older lady balked.
“I’m not leaving without Moonlight! I can’t!”
Amanda gripped her arm, nearly desperate. “We need to leave now. I think you’ve got a killer after you who still wants that necklace.”
For the first time, Amanda saw a flash of resolve cross Mrs. Welch’s thin face. “It’s the last thing I have of my husband’s and I’m taking it with me. You can leave if you want, but I’m going to go get Moonlight before I go.
“Where’s the necklace now?”
“It’s…um..it’s in the safe. I can get it in sixty seconds.”
“Go get it, and hurry.”
Mrs. Welch grabbed her flashlight and headed up the stairs, Amanda trailing behind. The pool of light in front of them was so narrow Amanda made sure to keep one hand on the older lady’s back as they ascended.
James. She needed to try to reach James.
“Do you have a landline? I can’t get my cellphone to work.”
Mrs. Welch gripped the top of the stair railing and turned, surprised. Amanda could barely see her face in the dark. “No, I gave it up months ago, when it got too expensive.”
Amanda followed her into a small parlor next to the stairs. From what she could see, it was nearly empty of furniture, with only a heavy wooden table and an old sofa. Any carpets or antiques were long gone, and their footsteps creaked across the bare wood floor.
A sudden flash of daylight-bright lightning lit up the room, making Mrs. Welch give a sudden yelp. A deafening boom of thunder rolled right over it. The storm was nearly on top of them.
“It’s in here,” Mrs. Welch said, walking to the fireplace and handing the flashlight to Amanda. She fiddled with a bit of tile near the mantel and it finally swung open, revealing the circular dial of a hidden wall safe.
Amanda felt her heart racing as Mrs. Welch turned the dial slowly clockwise. If she could just get both of them to safety they could ride out the storm, or find someone who could call out to the authorities.
There was a creak on the floorboards in the hallway. A single creak.
Amanda lunged for Mrs. Welch and practically pulled her to the floor, the flashlight flying from her hand as dove for the space behind the sofa. It spun wildly on the wood, finally pointing toward a dark corner of the room. The thin beam of light barely illuminated the rest of the room.
Amanda had landed almost on top of Mrs. Welch, who was gasping in surprise and doing her best to push Amanda off her. Quickly shushing her, Amanda froze, straining her ears to listen for any tiny sounds that would tell her if her horrible suspicions were true.
There was no sound, but Amanda could nearly feel the malevolent presence that stood in the hallway.
“I know it’s you, Celia.”
There was a pause, then the sound of a gun being cocked.
“So what.” The voice was flat and emotionless, and very familiar.
Mrs. Welch’s eyes were round with terror. Amanda looked at her, gathering her courage, and went on.
“I know you killed Desmond Martin.”
A faint sound of a sigh. “How did you know?”
Silence.
Amanda continued. “If you knew about his past, that means you knew him when he was at the bakery that day, supposedly applying for a job.” She tried to keep her voice steady, even though her heart was beating a mile a minute.
“Open the safe.” The words were nearly hissed.
Amanda’s mind was racing, trying to think how to outsmart the armed killer who would do anything for Moonlight. Maybe she could make Celia crack, to drop her guard enough that they could escape.
“He hadn’t grabbed you to harass you. He was your boyfriend. You just got caught with him that day in the bakery and so you said he’d grabbed you.” Amanda waited, straining to hear any response.
Silence.
Amanda kept on, looking around to see if there was anything she could use as a weapon. “Nice acting with those tears, though. You fooled me. Sure sounds like you fooled poor Mrs. Mason, too. ”
There was a pause. “That’s not my fault.”
“Nice way to treat someone you said was like your mother.”
The venom in the disembodied voice was real. “You don’t know anything about my mother.”
“I know that Desmond Martin had a new Jayhawk tattoo on his leg. I saw it when I found his body and had to see if he was dead. If he’s from around here, why would he have a tattoo of a Kansas Jayhawk? Was it because he thought he was important enough to someone that he should honor her by putting that picture on his skin?”
The voice, bitter, floated on the dead air.
“I never asked him to get that stupid tattoo.”
Amanda took a deep breath, realizing she was playing a very dangerous game. “No, but you knew that he loved you, didn’t you? You knew that he’d do anything for you, even steal the diamond necklace you wanted so desperately. What did you say to him to get him to do that, Celia? Why did he want to steal Moonlight for you?”
“Mine.” The word was soft, and the voice had moved.
Amanda silently eased off Mrs. Welch, pushing her farther behind the sofa.
Amanda took a deep breath. “Celia Welch. That’s your real name. You’re Mr. Welch’s daughter, aren’t you?”
“Moonlight’s mine. Mama told me it was always meant to be mine.” There was a note of pain in Celia’s words.
Mrs. Welch’s eyes were wide with shock.
Amanda could see a heavy-looking vase on the edge of the mantelpiece, maybe made out of metal. She had to keep Celia talking.
“What happened to you, Celia? What did your father do to you?”
There was a sharp bark of laughter. “You mean, where did he throw me away? Me and my mother? Can’t you guess where he dumped us like garbage and left us so he could make a new life with a new wife?”
Kansas.
Mrs. Welch’s voice was trembling, but brave. “If you hurt either one of us, we won’t open the safe for you, but if you let us go you can have the necklace. I don’t want it, really. It’s yours. Just let us walk out of here and you can go wherever you like.”
They waited.
“I can’t let you go.” There was a shifting sound, as if Celia was leaning against the wall. “I just want this to be over.”
Mrs. Welch took a deep breath. “Honey, I never even knew you existed, I swear. I’d heard the rumors but when I talked to your father he denied everything. He swore to me that he’d never been married before. I would’ve been happy to have you be part of our lives.”
A quick sob, then the voice was hard again.
“Figures he didn’t tell you about me. Bastard.”
Amanda patted Mrs. Welch’s leg to get her attention, moving her hand as if it was talking.
Keep her talking, she motioned, and Mrs. Welch nodded.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she tried, as Amanda silently eased upward, still behind the sofa. The heavy vase was nearly three feet past the safety of cover, but they had no other weapon except their voices and their wit. She peeked carefully over the edge of the couch, trying to see if Celia was standing there.
A brilliant flash of lightning flared, illuminating the room as if it were daylight. Amanda held her breath, watching, and waiting for the thunder.
She could see Celia peering around the doorjamb, her eyes wild and ringed with white.
Darkness fell again. Booming thunder shook the house as Amanda leaped toward the fireplace, desperately grabbing for the metal vase. It was heavier than she’d thought it would be, and just as she turned she could hear Celia pivoting into the parlor, suddenly aware that Amanda had come out from behind the sofa.
The gun was held in front of her, shaking but trained directly at Amanda.
“Give me Moonlight!” Celia yelled as she strode toward Amanda, who was still holding the awkward vase.
Mustering every bit of strength she had, Amanda ducked to the side and hurled the heavy container at Celia’s head.
There was a flash of light and a sharp crack of a gunshot as Amanda dove out of the bullet’s path. The vase smashed into the side of Celia’s temple, rocking her head sideways with the force. Her knees crumpled beneath her, the pistol flying from her hand as she careened backward. The vase seemed to explode as it hit the hard floor, spewing a sudden cloud of dust and ash everywhere as the top flew off.
Amanda sprang to her feet and grabbed the pistol with both hands, standing over the nearly-unconscious Celia.
Mrs. Welch came out from behind the sofa and grabbed the flashlight. “That was my husband’s ashes,” she said flatly, training the beam of light on the bits of grit and powder all over the floor.
Amanda didn’t feel any sympathy. “Mrs. Welch! Run to the neighbors and see if anyone has a phone that works. Get the cops!” She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her as she watched Celia for any movement.
Mrs. Welch nodded her head at Amanda’s words and gave her the flashlight, then pelted down the stairs as if her life depended on it. Amanda could hear the front door being flung open, then slamming behind Mrs. Welch as she ran from the house.
Chapter 26
Ivy’s Café was packed with people, the cold workers hungry after a long morning cleaning up the storm damage from two days before. Every booth and table was filled with townspeople peeling off their jackets and gloves, laughing and greeting each other as they sat down to order. Someone had been plugging the jukebox with quarters, and apparently had a taste for Elvis and Chuck Berry. Ruby opened up the back room, normally used for meetings, and within minutes every seat in the place was full.
“Hey, everybody!” Ruby shouted, trying to get the crowd’s attention. After a few seconds the conversations died down, with just the jukebox playing.
“We’ve got plenty of food and are thrilled you are all here, but it’s gonna take some time for us to serve all of you. Does anyone want to help out waitressing so we can get the food out to everyone as fast as possible?”
Within minutes she had two volunteers, including Jennifer Peetman, and Grace TwoHorses had said she’d be happy to help in the kitchen. Ruby grinned and thanked everyone, a relieved smile on her face as she hustled from table to table, taking orders.
Amanda was crammed in the back of a padded booth, Lisa on one side and James holding her hand on the other. Meg and Mrs. Granger sat opposite her, and it seemed like everyone in town strolled by to chat and congratulate her on catching Desmond Martin’s killer. While she’d been working with everyone to pick up the storm debris and assess the damage, she couldn’t count how many times she’d been hugged or had someone say that they were so glad she was okay.
Amanda watched the crowd around her with a sense of wonder. She could see Solomon and Truman at a nearby table, discussing jazz music, and George Ortiz had brought his entire family to be part of the cleanup crew. Madeline Wu and Mrs. Mason were obviously plotting something, as they had their heads together and were t
alking intensely, probably about their latest business ideas. For once, Henry Crabbe had showed up in town without his metal detector, and had gamely been shoved into a booth with the Hendersons, who were questioning him about how to find rare coins. Mrs. Sandford was at a table for two, carefully wiping down the tabletop with a napkin and trying to ignore the fact that Brian Petrie was sitting opposite her.
Amanda looked at the crowd with relief and gratitude. It was amazing to be here in this crowded café, waiting for food that would take ages to get to her, and sitting with dear friends. She was happy to be alive.
“So, how’s Celia doing these days, being in jail and all?” Mrs. Granger asked James, while trying to look innocent and failing entirely.
“Fine. Are you asking me if the quotes in the paper about her not being sorry are true or not?”
Lisa sat up straight. “Hey, those quotes are correct! She was yelling all the time she was being put in back of the cop car, even after she’d been read her rights. She said she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.”
Mrs. Granger just smiled, waiting, and James finally smiled back. “The quotes were correct.”
Meg’s mouth dropped open. “How could she not think she’d done anything wrong? She killed one guy in cold blood so she could keep the necklace, then tried to kill two more to get it later?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand some people. Why would Desmond Martin steal the necklace for her, then hide the key so she couldn’t get it?”
“I’ll bet I know. Let me see what James thinks of this theory,” Amanda said, turning toward the detective. “My guess is that he thought he’d sell the necklace and they’d use the money for a life together, but Martin had doubts about whether Celia really wanted to be with him or if she just wanted Moonlight for herself. Is that about right?”
James nodded. “She thought he had the key on him when he died, but she couldn’t find it, so she had to wait until someone found the necklace before she could try to get it for herself again.” He smiled at Amanda. “You should’ve been a detective. Oh wait, you almost are a detective in this town, aren’t you?”
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