Chapter 16
When my eyes finally fluttered closed, I felt sleep overtake me. I couldn’t have stayed that way for long, though, because something flickered in my periphery, and it caused my eyes to slowly ease open again.
I glanced at the window across the room, where I noticed a soft glow that danced just above the windowsill. An orange glow, which hardened to red around the edges after a moment or two. The light seemed to grow larger as the seconds ticked by, and, by the time I finally threw back the covers and tiptoed to the window, it caused the entire windowpane to glow.
I gazed through the glass, unsure of what I’d find.
There, on the horizon, just past the water tower where Darryl and I discovered Wesley’s body, a row of flames licked the night sky. The flames, which rose and fell like a heartbeat on a monitor, spread from a pinpoint of light to about an inch of color, supported by the black horizon underneath.
Something was on fire in the distance, although I had no idea what. I carefully slid the window open and a slight breeze brushed against my cheek as I leaned over the ledge. Just as I’d feared, a fire blazed in the distance, and I heard the crack of dry wood, although that could’ve been my imagination playing tricks on me.
What should I do? Odds were good no one else would know about the blaze, since everyone else was safely tucked in their beds. Should I call someone? Rouse one of the Honeycutts from their slumber?
As I debated my options, I heard the distinct sound of brittle timbers cracking in two. The noise grew louder and louder as the flames intensified, the fire swallowing everything in its path.
And then it struck me. The Riverboat Queen. The beautiful old boat with its ruby-red paint and forest-green trim, which had survived over a hundred years on the river, only to succumb to a fire of dubious origin.
And here it was, burning again. How could someone do that? How could they set fire to the boat, after everything it’d been through? Didn’t the ship suffer enough the first time around?
It wasn’t right. It deserved better than this! I leaned out the window, prepared to scream for all I was worth, when the noise abruptly stopped. In a final explosion of color, the fire crested twenty feet in the air, until it touched the nighttime clouds.
It’s too late. I opened my mouth to scream, but when I did, no sound came out. Instead, I bolted upright in my bed, with sweat coating every inch of my body.
A dream. It was all a dream. But it felt so real. Too real. My gaze flew to the window, which was filled with the black night sky, but nothing else.
If that doesn’t beat all. I threw back the covers for real this time and slowly rose. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep after that little adventure, so I groggily made my way to the bathroom and flicked on the light.
A patchwork of wrinkles crimped my sundress like rice paper, so I took it off and steamed it in the bathroom while I quickly showered. Then I splashed cold water on my face and ran a comb through my hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.
After that, I left the room, grateful to escape the scene of my nightmare, and I headed for the stairs. I only made it a few feet down the hall, though, when something stopped me in my tracks.
Just to be safe, I pinched my arm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming again. Ouch! Nope, wide awake.
A woman’s voice sounded, loud and clear. It was coming from Electra’s room, which sat across the hall from mine. Electra sounded angry, and her voice was rough and raw, as if she hadn’t slept a wink, either.
She’d left her door open a crack, and light spilled through the space and onto the hardwoods. I didn’t move closer, but I didn’t need to, since her voice rang out in the quiet.
“I told you this was a big mistake,” she said, as clear as day.
She definitely sounded hoarse, too. Not to mention mad. I waited for her companion to say something, but she spoke before the other person could.
“Why didn’t I leave? I missed out on my chance. My one chance.”
Leaving Honeycutt Hall? I could only imagine that’s what she meant.
But, once again, she didn’t wait for the other person to speak. Instead, she barreled ahead with her one-sided conversation.
“It was so easy to get rid of him. Almost too easy. Do you think that makes me a bad person?”
My eyes widened. A bad person? If she was speaking about Wesley, which she seemed to be, his murder would make her more than a bad person. She’d be a felon. Who in the world could she be talking to?
I leaned over to see if I could peek into her room, but the only thing I saw was a sliver of lamplight. Maybe if I hopped over the floor to the other side, I’d get a better angle. While I never intended to eavesdrop on yet another conversation, this one was much too interesting for me to stop now.
I waited for the conversation to start up again before I moved.
“We don’t have much time now,” Electra said. “The end…”
With that, I spun away from the wall—as quickly as my exhausted state would allow—and moved to the other side of the door. I automatically hugged the wall again when I landed there.
Sweet mother of pearl! I couldn’t see any more from this position than I could from the last one. Not only that, but now I was farther away from the staircase. What if Electra decided to leave her room and found me eavesdropping on her?
She seemed to be talking nonstop, though, so it was about time for her to pause for breath and let her companion chime in. That might give me a moment to switch back to the other side of the wall, and then I could sneak away before she saw me.
“…always remember you. Don’t forget me, either, my love.”
My love? Who in the world is in the room with her?
At that moment, the door suddenly jerked open, and my worst fear came true. Electra stepped into the hall, and she frowned when she found me leaning against the wall. “Missy? What are you doing out here?”
I willed my brain to work. Not only was I operating on zero sleep, but I hadn’t even had a single cup of coffee to revive me. “Me? Oh…uh…I was going to check on—”
“Were you looking for Mrs. Honeycutt?” She didn’t wait for me to finish. “I heard her go downstairs earlier. I think she’s probably in the kitchen by now.”
Funny, but Electra didn’t seem upset about the strained conversation in her room. She sounded a bit tired, but normal otherwise.
“Yes. That’s it. I was looking for Mrs. Honeycutt.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t ask me where I planned to find our hostess, because I had no idea which room she’d stayed in last night. Nelle told me she’d given the master suite to the Carmichaels, but I didn’t remember which guest room she planned to sleep in.
“I’ll be downstairs in a moment,” Electra said. “I have some things to finish up first.”
That seemed to be my cue to leave, so I seized on it. I skirted around her, my gaze hungrily seeking out her companion, but she blocked the doorway. So I headed for the staircase instead, before she could ask me any more questions.
Of all the things to hear this morning, I didn’t expect a conversation between Electra and her apparent lover to be one of them. Just who was she talking to, and what did she mean when she said it was too easy to get rid of someone else?
I slowly worked my way downstairs, my thoughts sludging around in my brain. I needed to call Lance first thing, so I could tell him what I’d heard. Although I didn’t know who Electra was talking to, I could give him the gist of the conversation.
Luckily, I made it to the bottom of the staircase without further incident. I strolled into the kitchen, where a group of people milled about. Among them were Sheridan, the bridesmaid, and Darryl, who once again wore a pair of navy coveralls.
“Good morning.” I walked over to Darryl, since he stood next to the coffeepot. Thank goodness, someone had brewed enough Community Coffee to satisfy a
herd of houseguests, and I eagerly reached for a Styrofoam cup placed next to the machine.
“Mornin’.” He seemed a trifle subdued today. Either Darryl had a lot on his mind, like me, or he wasn’t a morning person.
“Everything okay with you?” I filled the cup and took a quick sip of coffee, which was hot and strong, praise the Lord.
“Good ’nuff. Gots ta get some weedin’ done today.”
“That reminds me.” I took another sip, “How’d you find out so much about the plants around here? I know you love gardening, but I didn’t think you could memorize every single plant on a property this big.”
“’Taint nuthin’ to it.” He sipped from his cup, too. “I gots to know my herbs for the cook, don’ I? And dat one—dat t’orn apple—is tricky. Knew I had ta keep an eye out on dat one.”
“Really? How’d you know that?” Seemed to me while Darryl knew everything about growing and propagating the flowers around here, he couldn’t be expected to know the chemical makeup of each one. There had to be dozens—if not hundreds—of plants and flowers scattered around Honeycutt Hall.
“Dat jimson weed looks good ’nuf on da outside,” he said. “Deys got purple flowers dis time of year. Real pretty. Makes people forget about da poison.”
“Officer LaPorte told me all about that. He said Native Americans found out how to numb pain with it, and they used it as a hallucinogen during tribal celebrations. It’s funny more people don’t know about it.”
“It don’ grow everywhere. Only down south. Mostly Mexico.”
“Well, that makes sense. We’re not that far from the border, so I guess birds could’ve brought it over to this country. I’ll have to look for the plant the next time I’m outside.”
“Look for sumthin’ wit’ purple flowers, like da trumpet. Seed pods big an’ round. Spiky, too. Den ya know it’s da jimson weed.”
“Thanks, Darryl.” I tossed my cup in the trash, my vision a little clearer now. Although I hadn’t slept much last night, maybe I could pretend to be alert this morning.
I was about to make my way to the sunroom when the phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated.
“Hello?” I forgot to check the screen before I answered, so I had no idea who was on the other end.
“Missy? Hi, it’s Beatrice.”
My shoulders automatically relaxed. Talking with Beatrice always made me feel better, since she was the closest thing I had to a little sister. “Hey there, Bea. What’s up?”
“I wanted to tell you as soon as I finished working on your veil.”
Uh-oh. I’d forgotten all about the ruined bridal veil. The muscles in my neck began to crimp again at the very thought of it.
“What about the veil?” I couldn’t help but sound anxious.
“Don’t worry. It came out beautifully. The stain is completely gone.”
“Gone?” If I knew rust stains, which I did, they could be harder to erase than red wine.
“Yep. One hundred percent gone. I put it in lemon water, like you suggested. And you were right. You can’t even tell some rust ever got on it.”
“That’s wonderful! Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do. I was the one who almost ruined it.”
“But you didn’t mean to.” My relief was palatable. At last, I had a piece of good news instead of one problem after another. Maybe things were starting to turn around for me. Maybe…
“By the way,” she quickly added, “yesterday was crazy at the store.”
Apparently, I spoke too soon. “Oh, no. Was it a good kind of crazy, or bad?”
“A little of both. Is there any way you can come back to the store today? I’m sure you’re busy over there, but it’s got to be ten times worse over here.”
I mentally ticked through my to-do list. First up, after speaking to Lance, of course, was to take a nice, hot shower. Maybe even brush the tangles out of my hair. Of course, I secretly hoped to nap, but that could be overly optimistic, given everything that was going on around here. “I’ll try to get there as soon as I can. But Lance called another meeting this morning. We’re getting closer to finding out who killed Wesley Carmichael.”
“You’re kidding. That’s wonderful!”
“Maybe, but maybe not. The best man, Buck, is missing. He’s an old college buddy, and they used to gamble together. Not only that, but I overheard his stepsister talking about it, and it didn’t sound good.”
“That’s too bad.” Beatrice lowered her voice. “Look, someone’s banging at the back door. It must be a delivery. Just get here as quick as you can, okay?”
“Will do.” I slowly punched the button on the phone to end the call, and then I returned it to my pocket. Like many things in life, Beatrice’s call had brought good news and bad news. She was able to fix my veil, hallelujah, but she sounded desperate for me to get back to the shop. Come to think of it, what was she doing at Crowning Glory so early in the morning? A Sunday morning, no less. I made a mental note to give her a big, fat bonus in her next paycheck, and then I set off down the hall, toward the sunroom.
The first thing I spied when I rounded the corner was a buffet table laden with breakfast food. Hallelujah and pass the mustard! Nelle must’ve convinced the caterers to return, because the table held baskets of bagels, fruit, and beignets.
Nelle stood at the head of the table, next to a stack of Chinet plates.
“Good morning.” I hungrily approached the table, momentarily forgetting everything but the sight of those biscuits and butter pats.
“Hello, dear. We sure had an interesting night last night.” She chuckled wearily as she passed me a plate.
“You can say that again. And I’m afraid I couldn’t sleep much after that. My body was willing, but my mind wouldn’t cooperate.”
“You and me both.”
Only then did I notice blue-black shadows underscored her eyes and deep creases lined her forehead. “Oh, no. You, too?”
She nodded, while I chastised myself for disparaging her appearance. Who was I to talk? I, no doubt, looked like something that’d been “ridden hard and put up wet,” as people said in the South. “Maybe we should sit together at the meeting and take a nap when no one’s looking.”
Her smile waned. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? But I have a feeling everyone would notice.”
Just then, another person strode up to us. It was Lance, and he looked much too chipper for so early in the morning. “Hi, ho!”
For some reason, the noise echoed through the hall like cannon fire. “Ssshhh. No need to greet the whole house.”
“Whoa…what’s up with you?” He frowned when he reached me. “Rough night?”
“That obvious, huh? Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Nice to know I could count on Lance to make me feel better about my appearance. “You’d look this way, too, if you were up all night.”
“Now, I didn’t say you look bad.” He tried to backtrack as quickly as he could. “It’s just that your clothes look a little, uh, lived in.”
“Okay, so now I’m ‘lived in’? Since when—”
“Hey, kids,” Nelle interrupted, “let’s play nice. Let’s all try to get along this morning, shall we?”
She obviously knows nothing about our relationship. “We are playing nice. Lance and I go back twenty years. Trust me, this is as good as it gets.”
“Hey, I got something back from the station.” Lance wisely decided to change the subject. “The lab analyzed the gift Wesley received.” With that, he withdrew a cardboard box from behind his back.
“What is it?” Nelle peered at the package, which looked so ordinary now. It was about the size of a toaster, with no scratches or marks on the box.
“It’s something the mailman delivered yesterday,” I said. “Darryl intercepted it outside. Someone sent a package to Wesley, and it was a very strange package.”
“Oh, dear.” Nelle squinted at it again. “Was it meant to be a wedding present?”
“Definitely.” Lance balanced the box in his hand, which was no easy feat, considering the weight of the clock case. “They tried to lift some prints off it, but they didn’t have any luck.”
Since I’d been around Lance and his police investigations for a few years now, I knew exactly what that meant. “So, whoever sent the gift wore gloves.”
“Definitely.” Lance nodded. “The lab used an aluminum powder on the dark wood, but it came up clean. Same with the powder they used on the glass. Whoever sent the clock knew what he was doing.”
“Or she,” I reminded him, since more than a few of our cases had involved female criminals.
“Of course.” He tucked the box back under his arm. “I’m going to bring this to the meeting this morning. Nothing catches people off guard like visual aids. Maybe I’ll get an interesting reaction or two.”
“That thing must weigh a ton,” I said. “Why don’t you set it down and come join me for a bite to eat first? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I also have something else to talk to you about.”
“I think it’d be better if we spoke outside. We’d have more privacy.” He glanced at Nelle quickly. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she said. “I completely understand.”
I eyed the buffet longingly, although I knew it was no use. My curiosity wouldn’t let me sit back and enjoy a bagel when I had information to discuss with Lance. So I reluctantly handed the plate back to Nelle and made a mental note to grab something to eat later. “Guess I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”
“Don’t worry, dear.” She winked at me. “I’ll save you some breakfast. We insomniacs have to stick together.”
I grudgingly walked away from her and the bountiful breakfast, and then I followed Lance outside. Unlike me, he seemed full of energy this morning. And he looked refreshed, too, dagnabbit. He wore a periwinkle golf shirt and a pair of crisp khakis with knife-sharp pleats. Knowing Lance, he’d stashed a pair of handcuffs in one of the pockets and the ever-present notepad in the other, just in case.
What the Hatmaker Heard Page 14