Gemma watched the sheriff. She moved with confidence and absolute authority, and all of her men were poised and awaiting instructions. After directing someone to start taking pictures from as many angles as they could, she added. “Take measurements as well and document everything.”
And then the Sheriff squatted and looked closer at the two blue X’s on the floor. “These, too.”
Gemma watched the sheriff do exactly what she had done earlier, following the path of that arrow right up into the balcony with her gaze. Sheriff Burton motioned at one of her deputies and pointed that direction, giving him instructions that Gemma couldn’t hear. He was off like a shot, taking the narrow, old stairs two at a time. Then she stood, pointed toward two officers and said, “Start working your way through the guests. Get basic info and as much of a statement as they can give.”
They nodded and started off in opposite directions.
Sheriff Burton stepped to the front of the stage and spoke out loud and clear, like a woman who was used to being obeyed. “My officers are going to be asking you for some basic information at this time. We appreciate your cooperation. If you can think of anything at all that might help please let them know. Also, once the interview is complete, would you please return to your rooms for the night? I would also request that no one leave the premises.”
“Are you going to be able to find out who did this?” someone asked.
“I’m going to try my best,” she told them.
Gemma felt like she was at a press conference.
“Do you think he’ll strike again? Are we in danger?” someone else asked.
“I’m pretty sure Mr. Muzak was the target here. Since we don’t as yet know why, I’m going to be sure there are deputies stationed at the lodge all night as well as extra patrols in the area,” she told them.
Reaching for her cell, she punched in a number and Gemma assumed she was calling the coroner. She was glad. The sooner Mr. Muzak’s body was removed the better. It was so sad to see that happy-go-lucky man lying in a crumpled heap, face down on the floor with an arrow sticking out of his back.
After what appeared to be an unpleasant call, the sheriff strode across the stage toward Missy Tyler. She hopped down easily to the main floor and they spoke for a few moments. Missy frowned and looked thoughtful but finally she handed over her clip board. Gemma was sure that contained a list of everyone at the dinner.
The sheriff passed that on to another deputy and Gemma heard the end of her sentence. “...compare names.”
“Sheriff.” The voice was loud and it was coming from the balcony.
Gemma watched as Sheriff Burton took the stairs as easily as her deputy had done earlier. They were back a little way from the railing so she couldn’t see exactly what was going on but it looked like they were carefully examining something. The murder weapon? Why would the killer just leave it there for them to find, especially if it was Joel?
Before she could think much about that, she saw Nick coming toward her. And at the same time, another deputy touched her shoulder. He was a middle-aged man with a dark mustache.
“Ma’am, I need to ask you a few questions,” he said, his voice as kind as the gentle look in his eyes.
“Of course,” Gemma said.
“This is my wife, Carolyn,” Nick said loudly and placed an arm possessively around Gemma’s shoulders.
Gemma struggled to hide the look of shock she knew was on her face. A man had been killed, a life taken, and Nick was standing there deliberately lying to the police, just to stay undercover for his story.
“And you would be Mr...” he paused to check the list of names he carried. “William Vanderhaden.”
“Yes. And my wife is very fragile. I’m afraid all of this is too much for her delicate nature to handle,” Nick continued.
The deputy may have been kind but he still had a job to do. “That may be the case, sir, but this room is full of witnesses. We’re asking everyone to stay put until they’re interviewed.
“I’m fine,” Gemma assured him.
In reality, Gemma didn’t want to leave. While the deputy interviewed Nick, Gemma watched the other officers at work, talking to each guest in turn. Finally, one by one, people began leaving. They all moved slowly, their sadness seeming to weigh them down. Gemma understood. She felt the same way. The sparkle of the room was almost mocking them all now. As each interview was finished, she overheard time and again, “Please do not leave the property.”
The coroner arrived and headed immediately to the stage to begin his examination of the body. Deputies who were not busy interviewing guests were scouring the theater, especially that balcony, for additional clues. Gemma watched Sheriff Burton come down the steps carrying a crossbow in her latex gloved hands. She was obviously no stranger to the weapon but Gemma figured being a sheriff out here required lots of specialized knowledge. She placed it on a table toward the back of the room and waited while one of the crime scene techs took pictures from every angle.
“Prints?” Gemma heard the deputy ask.
Sheriff Burton shook her head. “First thing I checked.”
“Figures,” he said. Click. Click. “Timer?”
“Yep.” Sheriff Burton looked like she couldn’t wait to get a closer look at that weapon.
It was Gemma’s turn to be interviewed by the deputy with the mustache. Nick hovered nearby while she answered his questions truthfully and when he was satisfied that she hadn’t seen any more than anyone else, he allowed them to leave.
Nick steered Gemma toward the door where they had originally entered the old theater. It was nearly empty now, the party over, everyone sadly going back to their rooms. At the last minute, she turned and looked back at the stage.
“Come on,” Nick said impatiently and pulled her out the door. He didn’t give her much time to do anything but follow along as he practically drug her through the restaurant and into the lobby, where they were stopped by yet another deputy.
“Mr. Vanderhaden, I just wanted to check to make sure you were staying in the same cabin that had been assigned to you,” the deputy said.
While Nick explained that they had been given a different cabin at the last minute and made sure the deputy had those details, Gemma gazed around the huge lobby. Much to her surprise, the crossbows that had held her attention when she first saw them were all in place. She tried to remember what she’d been told. It was Joel who was the avid bow hunter and collector, not Mr. Muzak. Although someone did mention that the two men went hunting from time to time.
And then they were outside. It had grown much colder in the past few hours and Gemma gasped as the frigid air filled her lungs. She hurried along behind Nick, who looked for all the world like he was running from something.
Chapter Six
“Nick, you lied to the police.”
They made it to the cabin in record time but even as cold as she was, Gemma refused to let him go inside. Catching his arm, she pulled him around to the side of the cabin in the darkness. She felt pretty sure they could talk out here without anyone overhearing their conversation. She was still surprised that this man she’d known all her life insisted that they carry on this charade.
“And I will continue to lie as long as I can,” he told her. Pacing back and forth in the darkness, he ran his hands through his hair. She heard his shoes crunching on the frozen grass.
“Well, that probably won’t be much longer. You know they’re going to run background checks on everyone,” Gemma reminded him.
“I know. I know. Damn, I was so close to blowing this wide open and then Muzak had to go get himself killed.”
“How sensitive of you,” Gemma muttered.
Nick grunted, stopped and placed one hand against the wall of the cabin. Moonlight filtered through the trees turning the familiar planes of his face into sharp edges.
“Who do you think did it?” Gemma asked after a few moments.
“Probably that snotty wife of his or his buddy, Joel,” Nic
k said, starting to pace again.
“They were both right there, front and center when it happened. Do you think they had the skill to rig that timer?” Gemma asked.
“Or they paid someone,” Nick suggested, his breath pluming out in front of him in the cold night air.
“Maybe,” Gemma said softly. “Howard? And Joel was very, very particular about where they stood on that little stage. He was also really worried about the timing,” Gemma said, going over the facts aloud. “But why? Unless he was the killer.”
“We’re pretty sure there was something going on between them. We know they had something planned. Maybe they just wanted that old goof ball out of the way.”
“He wasn’t an old goof ball,” Gemma snapped. “He was a sweet man who loved his wife, his friends and his home. And he went to a lot of trouble to make sure others shared in that joy as well.” Gemma’s sadness was quickly turning to anger, tears stinging her eyes.
“And recorded video of unsuspecting couples in compromising situations. And blackmailed them to keep it off the internet,” Nick reminded her.
That brought Gemma up short. “Do you think his murder had anything to do with that?”
“I don’t know,” Nick growled, clearly unhappy with the turn of events.
“All the more reason for us to try to figure it out,” Gemma protested, those tears burning a hot, salty trail down her cheeks.
“No, we are not figuring out anything. That’s the sheriff’s job and I’m sure she’s very good at it. I’m here to prove they’re blackmailing guests with video shot in their rooms. And this gives me the perfect opportunity to do it with everyone’s attention elsewhere.”
“But...”
“Stay out of it, Gemma,” he said, his voice taking on a stern, cold sound she’d never heard before “Let the sheriff solve this.”
“Nick, I have to do something. I’m so angry...” Gemma protested.
“Drop it, Gemma. I mean it. And do not, I repeat, do not, tell them who you really are until they confront you with information otherwise. Got it?” Nick snapped.
Gemma’s mouth opened but no words came out. She stared hard at Nick, who suddenly looked and sounded like a stranger. This wasn’t the man she knew. This wasn’t the man she was engaged to at one time, the one she thought she might still be in love with. He turned and stalked inside the cabin without another word, leaving her standing in the cold.
***
When Gemma woke the next morning, Nick was already up and dressed.
“Coffee’s ready,” he told her quietly.
“Thank you,” Gemma said, reaching for her robe and belting it around her. Even with the fire blazing, it was cold. She wondered how much of that came from what had happened the night before, losing Mr. Muzak and having the feeling that she’d somehow lost Nick as well.
“I’ll be back after while,” he told her. “I got a call from Harold. He wants to talk to me about something.”
Gemma looked up in surprise.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with the murder, but I’m betting it has something to do with the blackmailing scheme. Maybe they’re having to work a little faster because the cops are everywhere,” he said holding up his hands. “Give me an hour or so and then I’ll meet you in the restaurant for breakfast.”
“Be careful,” Gemma said.
Nick waved her words aside, buttoned up his coat and headed out the door.
Gemma stood there for a while, coffee cup in hand, watching Nick trudge through the cold wind, climb into the Escalade and drive away. Evidently, Harold wanted to meet him somewhere away from the main lodge. Perhaps because he had secrets to sell.
After taking a hot shower, Gemma dressed in her warmest clothes and walked down to the main lodge. The parking lot was much emptier than it had been when they arrived. And parked right up close to the building were several county vehicles. The party was over, and she assumed that the authorities had probably questioned as many people as they could and then cleared them, giving them permission to leave. What a sad ending to a beautiful weekend that had begun with the hope of finding true love.
Just as she opened one of the heavy doors to the lodge, a tan SUV drove up and Sheriff Burton climbed out. She looked tired and a little distracted, but her movements were as quick and sure as the night before. Gemma paused just inside the door and held it open for her.
“Thank you,” the sheriff said. “Mrs. Vanderhaden?”
Gemma nodded briefly and looked away
“Mind if I join you for coffee?” Sheriff Burton asked.
“No, of course not,” Gemma said.
As a waitress seated them, Gemma saw Missy Tyler talking to one of the deputies. Her whole demeanor seemed to have changed since Gemma first met her. She even looked different and was she openly flirting with that young officer? Her laughter rang out across the large space.
“Ms. Tyler doesn’t seem to be mourning her employer,” Gemma said aloud and then placed her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I was just thinking aloud.”
“It’s okay,” the sheriff said, taking a sip of the coffee from her thick, white mug. “She never made it a secret that she didn’t like the Muzaks.”
“Yet she worked for them,” Gemma said, noting that the sheriff wore a wedding band. While she listened to the woman talk, she wondered if she had children.
“Valentine is a small town. There are very few jobs unless you travel,” the sheriff explained. “This is where Missy grew up. Her family used to own this place.”
Gemma looked up in surprise.
“Missy was an only child, not born until her parents were in their late forties. Her parents doted on her, sheltered her from the outside world. She was actually homeschooled long before it was trendy. Maybe they were just a little bit too protective.”
Gemma nodded.
“They ran this place as long as their health permitted and then they died within a year of each other. What she discovered after that was that not only were they terrible parents for a lonely little girl, they were not very good when it came to managing money. The place was deep in debt and falling down around her ears. On top of that, she owed back taxes. It was put up for auction. The Muzaks were the highest bidder and kind Mr. Muzak with his big heart hired her as the event planner.”
“I see,” Gemma said.
The sheriff continued. “Word around the county is that she didn’t like the way the place was being run. Thought she could do better. Even hinted at something underhanded going on.”
“Do you think there’s something going on?” Gemma asked. “Besides murder, I mean?”
Burton sipped her coffee and thought about that. “I doubt it. But if there is, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“Do you have any thoughts on who might have killed Mr. Muzak?” Gemma asked, trying to sound casual, although she was dying to know what the investigation had turned up so far.
“Oh, we have a couple of ideas. Joel is an expert with a crossbow, but the one used wasn’t one of his. He only shoots expensive bows made custom for him by a local company. This one was just a cheap model available at Walmart. The arrow was a fixed blade broadhead. All the ones at his house were expandable, which means the blades open up after the arrow hits. Then there’s the timer.”
Gemma was afraid to say anything; afraid the sheriff might stop talking. She simply nodded and sipped her coffee.
“The whole thing was rigged with a timer set to pull the trigger at exactly the right moment. Just a little digital clock with a solenoid wired to it. About twenty-five dollars’ worth of Radio-Shack odds and ends.”
“Fingerprints?” Gemma asked, even though she already knew the answer to that one.
The sheriff shook her head.
“Would it take some special knowledge to rig up a timer like that?” Gemma asked.
“You ask a lot of questions,” Sheriff Burton said with a little smile.
“Sorry. I’m just naturally curious,” Gemma said quick
ly.
“To answer your question, we have two or three people in mind,” she said. “Again, it’s a small area. People talk. My job is to listen.”
Before Gemma could reply, Joel approached their table. She was surprised he hadn’t immediately been arrested for the murder of Mr. Muzak, even though the physical evidence seemed inconclusive. After all, everyone seemed to know that he was having an affair with Mrs. Muzak. The dark circles under his eyes made him appear more pale and even thinner than he seemed when she first met him. He stopped and shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“Sheriff Burton, I’ve cleared the front office for you to use as an interview room,” he said, his voice shaking just a little. “The accountant is in there right now. He’ll go over the books with you.”
“Thank you,” the sheriff said, standing up.
“How is Mrs. Muzak this morning?” Gemma asked him.
“She’s holding up,” he said, his voice as stiff and cold as his icy glare.
“Ms. Vanderhaden, I trust we’ll be seeing each other again later today. Since you were the closest to the stage, I’d like to get a better idea of what you saw and heard.”
It took Gemma a few seconds to respond. “Oh, yes, absolutely. I’ll be in my cabin.”
Her food arrived soon after that and her coffee cup was refilled. Gemma picked at her food in silence. The whole place was subdued, a sad empty feeling, almost as if the lodge itself was mourning the loss of Mr. Muzak. Gemma looked up to see Missy Tyler coming toward her table with a fresh pot of coffee.
“Refill?” Missy asked.
“Yes, please,” Gemma said, pushing the cup in her direction. “Looks like you’re a little short staffed today.”
Missy shook her head. “Oh, half the wait staff and almost all of the housekeeping staff called out today. They’re so upset over losing Mr. Muzak that they just couldn’t work.”
“I’m sure he’ll be missed,” Gemma said.
“Not by me,” Missy snapped.
“You didn’t like Mr. Muzak?” Gemma asked.
“Stupid old fool running around pretending to be Cupid. He ran this place like it was some sort of love nest when his own wife was sleeping with his manager,” Missy said, lowering her voice when she said the last part. “I heard they were planning on running away together after this weekend.”
Cupid's Corpse: A Cozy Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 5