by Ella White
Harrison looked deep in thought. “Probably not. I last spoke to my assistant Kate at the diner, but I was alone after I went to my room.”
“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Bell?” the chief asked him suddenly, annoyed with his nonchalant manner.
“You think I killed that guy,” he replied. “At the bookstore.”
Vickie had to hold down her annoyance at Anthony being called “that guy.” “Who else might have done this, Mr. Bell?”
“Mrs. Matheson, you saw all the crazy fans I have,” Harrison answered. Thankfully Susan didn’t seem that annoyed that she jumped into the conversation. “Or some of them at least. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were trying to copy the master.”
Susan shook her head. “I’ll need names.”
“I don’t know all their names,” he admitted, not looking guilty in the slightest. “I guess there’s this one fan who’s been following me around during my whole tour. You should ask my assistant about him. She probably knows who he is. Or maybe it could be my main competitor, Blake Jones. I knocked his book down to number two on the best sellers list with my new book two years ago. He could be pretty pissed about that.”
Susan did write this down, as it could lead her to a few other suspects. “Thank you, Mr. Bell. You have been most helpful.”
The two women stood up, and Susan ushered Vickie to the door.
“I suggest you utilize my assistant, Kate, Ms. Miles-”
“Chief Miles.”
Harrison paused. “She is the most diligent assistant I’ve ever had. You should use her for anything and everything involving research and information. I certainly do. She’s staying at the Hamilton Inn.”
Vickie filed this away for future reference. His assistant. Yes, she should definitely speak with her.
Chapter 2
Vickie drove back to her house to check on her daughter, hoping that Rachel had taken her advice and gone to see her father.
When they first moved to Carriage Cove, her husband, Thomas, had told her it was vital that they live on the edge of town, closer to the surrounding forest. It was a small house, but big enough for them and their two children. Vickie always wished it was closer to church or the school Rachel and Mark had attended, but she had to admit it was nice to be away from the traffic and commotion that came with being in the center of town. It was also nice for bird watching, which Thomas loved to do. He set up lots of birdhouses and birdfeeders to welcome them so he could take pictures. Vickie was never into birds the way her husband was, but she had to admit he was a great photographer.
She parked the car and headed into the house. The odor of eggs and sausage wafted through the air. Vickie turned to the living room only to be greeted by Tyler. He then bolted right into the kitchen. Her husband let out a cry of surprise as the cat reappeared. Meanwhile, Vickie went over to the couch where her daughter was sitting.
Rachel took after her father in looks, her brown hair a lighter shade than Vickie’s had been before the streaks of silver began lining her tresses. Her brown eyes were also the same as Thomas’s, although Vickie argued that she had bits of green that were like hers. The tears flowing down her face blurred her eyes, and she appeared to be watching the television, but she wasn’t really looking at anything.
Vickie gave her daughter a tight hug. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she replied with a sniffle. “I just can’t believe this happened.”
“Vickie?” Thomas’s voice called from the kitchen. He walked out the door, a spatula covered in partially scrambled eggs in his hand. “Did you have to bring the cat over?”
“You love Tyler, hon,” Vickie teased him. He just laughed and went back into the kitchen. She turned back to Rachel. “Sweetie, I’m going to see if I can figure out who really killed Anthony.”
“Harrison Bell’s been arrested for it,” she gasped. “Do you think someone else did it?”
“Tyler!” Thomas’s voice cried out. “No eating the sausages!”
An indignant meow was the cat’s response.
“I have a hunch, and when have those been wrong?”
Rachel let out a chortle. “Never that I know of. You’re always able to guess the culprit in all the mystery books you read.”
“It’s a talent,” Vickie joshed. There was a crash originating from the kitchen, and she snapped her head toward the sound. “Thomas? Is everything okay in there?”
“Everything’s fine!” he yelled back. “Tyler just knocked down the dishes in the sink!”
“He has better not broken our good china!” Vickie looked back at her daughter. “The chief of police already let me speak with Harrison. He suggested we talk to his assistant, Kate. I’d like you to come with me.”
Rachel stared at her. “Why would you want me along?”
“Well, you’re a journalist, and you’re better at taking notes than I am,” Vickie rationalized. “You would be welcome to—”
Thomas let out another scream, and Tyler sped out of the kitchen with a sausage in his mouth. His human father came chasing after him, yelling his name, but he could never keep up with the sprightly young cat.
“What now?” Vickie wondered out loud. “Thomas?”
“He got a sausage!” he complained. “Why didn’t we ever teach him manners?”
“I guess he gained a taste for those sorts of things from the café,” Rachel reasoned. She took a deep breath and looked at her mother. “Okay. I’ll go with you. Just give me a few minutes to clean up and get my notepad. I’ll need it.”
“Don’t forget about breakfast,” Thomas reminded them. “I didn’t deal with the crazy cat for nothing!”
“He loves Tyler, really,” Rachel managed to joke. “He’ll just never admit it.”
After they had eaten, Vickie and Rachel headed for the Hamilton Inn to speak with Kate. The hotel was a standard two-story building, and it was quite bland in Vickie’s opinion. It was white with blue trim, although each floor had bluish swirls on the roof and in the windows. She did notice there were the numerous trees all over the place. A couple even grew to the second-floor windows.
“Do you think someone could climb down from one of those?” Vickie asked Rachel as she got out of her car. She pointed to the trees as Rachel exited her own vehicle.
“Maybe, if he or she was fit enough.”
The two entered the inn and spoke with the receptionist. She was happy to direct them to the room Kate was staying in, room one eleven. Once they found it, Vickie knocked soundly on the door.
The woman who answered the door was probably in her mid-thirties, although the black bags under her gray eyes made her look much older. She wore a white top with a bright, flamboyant skirt patterned after roses. She somehow looked both stressed out and relaxed at the same time.
“Mrs. Matheson,” Kate greeted, recognizing her from the book night. “What are you doing here?”
“Hello, Kate. This is my daughter, Rachel,” Vickie introduced. “She writes for the Carriage Cove Chronicle. She would like to speak with you about Mr. Bell’s, well, predicament, if that’s all right.”
“That’s fine,” she replied, moving out of the way to let the two women inside. She closed the door and looked around. “Sorry about the mess.”
Kate’s hotel was indeed a disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere, the bed was not made, and papers were scattered all over the desk, chairs and floor. A laptop sat on the desk, and Vickie could just see that there were at least twenty tabs open. Kate must have been very busy researching something, likely involving Harrison’s books or tour. Vickie recalled just how frazzled Kate had been during the reading last night, so it wasn’t very surprising that her room would be just as chaotic. She didn’t even want to think about what the bathroom looked like.
“Are you all right?” Rachel inquired as she took in the room for herself. “We can come back later if that’s better for you.”
“Not, it’s fine.” Kate cleared off two
chairs for them while she sat on the bed. “Better to just get this over with.”
Rachel sat in front of her and took out her notepad. “I just have a few questions for the paper, about the murder.”
“Okay, but I’m not sure how much I can tell you,” she whispered.
“How well do you know Harrison Bell?” Rachel began.
“Three years,” Rachel replied. “Before he became a best seller.”
“What do you do for him?”
“What don’t I do for him?” Kate let out a quiet chuckle but stopped herself. “I take notes, help with research and revisions, help him make presentations, and help him brainstorm ideas for his books. Besides that I’m basically his secretary. I take his calls, manage his emails and regular mail, organize press releases, book meetings and parties, book tours, places to eat, hotels…the list goes on.”
“Sound exhausting,” Rachel sympathized.
“You have no idea.” Kate’s voice was just above a whisper again. Her head snapped to the window, where a branch from a tree was scratching across the glass. “Stupid tree.”
Vickie and Rachel glanced at each other before the latter looked at her notepad. “If there was so much work to be done, why didn’t he hire another assistant?”
“Because he’s a cheapskate!” Kate declared, leaping up from the bed. She realized what she had done and slowly sat down. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad experiences,” Rachel consoled. “How about we focus more on last night? I know you left the Sip and Read Café at about nine thirty. Where did you go after that?”
“I drove Mr. Bell to the Oakwood Smokehouse for something to eat,” Kate described. “He ordered takeout, and then I drove him back to his room here.”
“What did you do after that?”
“I was in here, working all evening long. There were a lot of emails to answer and I needed to confirm the next stop on the tour.”
“We spoke to Mr. Bell earlier today, and he of course maintains his innocence,” Rachel informed her. “He mentioned a few people who might have killed…killed Anthony Lee last night. Do you know whom he might have meant? Some fans, or a competitor?”
Kate’s cloudy eyes cleared for a split second. “Matthew Bae. He’s been following Mr. Bell around during the entire tour. Mr. Bell doesn’t know, but Matthew’s actually a regular on his blog. He writes all sorts of dark, unpleasant stuff.”
“Harrison doesn’t know about this?” Vickie asked doubtfully.
“No. He barely ever bothers to look at his blog,” Kate answered with a small smile. “It’s just another thing I do for him. I doubt he knows a fraction of what’s going on in that blog.”
“And this Matthew, does he seem like the kind of person who might kill someone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? The stuff he posts is creepy enough, that’s for sure.”
“Why would he post that sort of thing?”
“He hopes some of his ideas will make it into Mr. Bell’s next book,” Kate described. “He’s not that bad of a writer, so he probably could get published if he wanted, but it’s really sickening to read sometimes.”
“Is there anyone else like that?” Rachel inquired. “Anyone who might have committed this murder?”
Kate thought about it. “There’s John Grayson. He’s a businessman of some sort, but I don’t know what he does. He loves Mr. Bell’s books though. And there’s Logan Michaels and Louis McGuire. They were both at the reading last night, and they were really annoying Mr. Bell about signing their books. They even followed him to the car.”
Rachel wrote down all of this information as quickly and legibly as she could. “Is there anyone else?”
“His ex-girlfriend, Annabelle Chambers, keeps calling him,” she added. “Something about a lawsuit, but he never agrees to take her calls.”
“Sounds like a lot of people have it in for Harrison Bell,” Vickie commented.
“And Anthony Lee ended up in the middle of it,” Rachel said sadly.
“I guess there could be other people who followed us during the tour, but I can’t remember,” Kate admitted. “This whole tour is blurring together, to be honest.”
Vickie put a hand on her shoulder. “When your boss runs you ragged like this, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Kate smiled at her. “The tour itself is exhausting enough. We’re in a new state every couple of days, and if we aren’t at an event we’re on the road. This is the first time we’ve had a break in weeks.”
“We should let you rest then,” Vickie announced. “Sorry to bother you so much.”
“It’s okay,” she replied. “You didn’t know. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
Kate walked the two to the door, and Vickie and Rachel headed out of the inn. Once they returned to their cars, Vickie turned to her daughter.
“That was enlightening,” she commented. “Although it might be too many leads to follow up on.”
“A lot of people are not happy with Harrison Bell,” Rachel added. “I guess popularity can be a bad thing too.”
“We need to narrow down the suspect list.” Vickie tapped her nose in thought. “And we need more details about the murder itself. I doubt Chief Miles will let us look at the crime scene though.”
“Probably not, but I bet I can get some info if I call saying it’s for the newspaper,” Rachel suggested. “I need to tell my boss I’m covering the story after all.”
“You do that, and I’ll see if I can find out anything about the book murder.”
“The book murder?”
“Anthony was supposedly killed like the victim in Mr. Bell’s book, remember?”
“Oh, right. I guess I was so upset, I forgot.”
Vickie gave her another hug. “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re going to figure this out.”
“Thanks, Mom.” She returned the hug tightly. “How about we meet back at the café to compare notes?”
“Perfect. I need to check up on the shop anyway.”
Chapter 3
When Vickie arrived at the Sip and Read Café, she was greeted by one of the busiest times she had ever seen since she had first opened the shop. People were chatting, reading, going in and out of the shop, laughing…many were even going back up to the counter for a second serving of their food or drink. She smiled as she saw that her business was doing well without her, but she also wanted to make sure her employees were not being worn down from all the work.
She headed for the front counter, bypassing the customers in line to see Kimberly at the cash register. “Hey there, Kim. How is everything?”
“Going great, Vickie.” She passed the coffee to the customer. “Here you go! Thanks for coming!”
The customer put his change in the tip jar and smiled at the cashier as he left. Kimberly turned to Vickie.
“There was an emergency with one of the espresso machine earlier. It kind of…exploded.”
Vickie balked. “Exploded?”
“Well, the liquid inside did. The machine is fine and we cleaned it all up,” Kimberly reassured her. “I called the manufacturer, and they said they’ll send someone over tomorrow to see if they can fix it.”
“Sounds good,” Vickie said with a sigh. “Anything else I need to know?”
“Nope. We’ve got it all taken care of.”
“I really owe you guys, Kim. Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
At that moment, Rachel walked in and headed to the front of the line. A few of the customers looked a little miffed that someone was apparently cutting in line, but they relaxed when they saw her open the half-door leading to the area behind the counter. They must have figured she was another employee.
Kimberly filled another order and passed two more to the other employees behind her. “Hey, Rachel. You doing okay? Your mom was worried about you earlier.”
“I’m doing okay. Thanks for asking, Kim.” Rachel gave her a reassuring smile. “We’re on a mission.”
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“Well don’t worry about this place,” she replied, more to Vickie than to Rachel. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Vickie gave another grin before she and her daughter headed to her office, closing the door so they would have some privacy. Vickie booted up her computer again as Rachel took the seat on the opposite side of the desk. She dropped her notebook onto the desk and stared at her mother.
“Let’s go over what we know,” Rachel suggested. “Anthony was killed the same way as the victim in Harrison Bell’s book. He was stabbed in the chest by a pair of garden shears, and an origami bird was left on his body. The bird is supposed to be the signature of the killer.”
“Did you find this information at the paper?”
“Yes. Henry thought I wasn’t taking the case, so he passed it over to James. When I asked if I could cover the story after all, James gave me all of his notes, and he had called the police station for a statement.”
“I’ve always liked James. Thorough young man.”
They heard an impatient meow come from the door, and they both let out a chuckle. Rachel stood to let Tyler into the room, and he immediately jumped onto the desk and sat right on her notebook
“How did you get here, silly?” Vickie asked, giving the cat a scratch behind the ears. “I left you at home.”
“Dad must have let him out again.”
“Darn that man. I told him not to let Tyler loose.”
Tyler purred as both women petted him simultaneously. He lay down on the desk, stretching out as far as his rubber cat body could go, taking up nearly the entire desk that wasn’t occupied by the computer.
Vickie shook her head. “You are a real distraction sometimes, little buddy.”
“Maybe that’s why Dad let him out?”
“I need to have a talk with that man.”
“Tyler, I really need that notebook.”
The cat continued to purr, far too content where he was to even think about moving. Vickie and Rachel glanced at each other.
“On the count of three?” Rachel asked.
“Yup. One…two…three…”