Mrs. Carlyle's Second Honeymoon

by L. K. Campbell

  An ill feeling coursed through her stomach. “Kevin, I hadn’t even thought of that.” But I didn’t expect to find that keycard under the coffee cups, either. “But let’s err on the side of caution just in case.”

  “Mrs. Adams,” Maddie called to her from the door. “Mrs. Stone said that as long as it’s just for tonight, she has two rooms available at Evergreen.”

  “Excellent, ring Roger’s room and let him know. They can flip a coin for who gets the suite here.”

  A hotel guest approached Maddie at the door.

  “Has something happened here?” the man asked. “I noticed a policeman talking to a reporter in the lobby. Then, one of the news stations reported a possible murder last night.”

  Celeste edged between the guest and Maddie.

  “I’m Celeste Adams, the hotel owner,” she said. “A guest passed away last night, but the police haven’t determined the cause,” she said. “He was a prominent person and the news people are being overzealous. We don’t have a killer running loose in the hotel.” At least, I hope we don’t. “I assure you that you can feel completely safe here.”

  He seemed satisfied with her answer, but she was sure it wouldn’t be the last time she’d have to give it. In the hallway, the telltale scent of a certain men’s cologne slowed her pace. However, someone speaking in the stairwell brought her steps to a halt. Even in whispers, she’d heard Kylie’s voice enough to recognize it. She flattened herself against the wall and inched closer to the opening. She’d once questioned Howard’s judgment in removing the old stairwell door on the first floor. Now, she was glad that he had.

  “How the hell did this happen?” Kylie asked. “I worked my ass off to put this deal together and with Wes dead, it’s all at a standstill. I don’t even want to ask Emma if she signed those deeds over to the company before Wes died. She bit my head off yesterday when I mentioned it. When no one was looking, I picked up Emma’s keycard from the coffeetable and returned to the suite after they took Wes away. I searched for the papers but couldn’t find them.”

  Before she could stop herself, Celeste gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from making a sound.

  “Don’t worry,” Bill said. “I’ll talk to Emma, and for heaven’s sake, pull yourself together before Alan suspects something.”

  Celeste’s heartbeat raced. My intuition was right about Bill. Hoping they wouldn’t see her, she tiptoed to the other side of the hall and hurried into the kitchen. She caught Henrietta balancing a basket of turnovers in one hand and a tray of scrambled eggs in the other.

  She rushed to her aid. “I’ll get those,” she said.

  Celeste took them out to the buffet table and replaced the empty trays. Behind her, she heard a female voice say, “Look at this on Channel 9’s news feed. Someone was murdered here last night.”

  Should I confront and correct her or ignore it? Celeste opted for the latter. I’d love to discover who planted that rumor and wring his or her neck. She entered the kitchen as Abby was coming in the outside door.

  “Her sister just arrived, and she made her lie down,” Abby said. “I’m ashamed of being nosy, but I saw Emma’s prescription bottle. She has a heart condition.”

  “Yes, she told me that she takes something to slow her heartbeat.”

  “With everything that’s going on,” Abby said. “I hope she’s not taxed to the point that she ends up in the hospital.”

  At once, her thoughts returned to the conversation she’d overheard on the stairwell between Kylie and Bill. At least, now she knew who’d taken Emma’s keycard and used it to search the suite. It hadn’t sounded as if Kylie had wanted Wes dead, but who did?

  Chapter 8

  Celeste rang the phone in the conference room and hoped that either Sgt. Hammond or Detective Woods would answer it.

  “Who are you calling?” Abby asked.

  “I need to speak to Detective Woods,” she said. “I’ve overheard Kylie admitting to Bill that she stole Emma’s keycard and entered the honeymoon suite last night.”

  “What? Why would she do that?”

  “They’re not answering the phone,” Celeste said. She put down the receiver and walked to the door. “I’d better go knock on the door.”

  “No, wait. Don’t reveal something like that and then leave me hanging,” Abby said.

  “I’ll tell you after I’ve spoken with Detective Woods. He should have this information before he interviews Kylie.”

  She pushed open the door and ran into Bill. Given that she no longer trusted Mr. Matthews, she pretended that she hadn’t seen him since their parting earlier that morning.

  “You’re still here?” Celeste asked. “I thought you drove off a while ago.”

  He held his smartphone where she could see it. A news app displayed the headline—Was a Charlotte Real Estate Developer the Victim of Foul Play on His Wedding Night?

  “As soon as I saw this, I turned my vehicle around and came back,” he said. “The lead paragraph names the hotel as the place he departed this life.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. You never left the hotel.

  “I’ve already spoken with the media,” she said. “As have the detectives working on the case. The news people are doing what they do best—speculating and blowing the story out-of-proportion.”

  She stepped away from him, and he grabbed her arm. Or more accurately, the sleeve of my shirt but still… She yanked it away.

  “Celeste, we need to get ahead of this and make sure we turn it to our advantage.”

  “A man died here. How the heck can there be any advantage in that?”

  His cheeks reddened. “Clearly, you’re upset with me for some reason. I can’t imagine why and maybe we can sit down and clear the air later but right now, you need to start taking the precariousness of your situation seriously.”

  “I am taking this situation very seriously, but I don’t want to capitalize on someone’s tragedy. Until the dust has settled and the police have finished their investigation, I think it’s best to continue with business as usual and for the sake of my other guests. Let’s not make a Broadway production out of it.”

  Celeste pushed the door open and gazed down the hallway toward the conference room. She saw Jessica leaving. Good, Detective Woods is between interviews. I can talk to him now.

  “Bill, I have an urgent matter I need to handle,” she said. “Let’s discuss this at a better time when we’re not under so much stress.”

  His lips drew up as if he’d bitten into a lemon. Perhaps, I’m leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The feeling is mutual.

  “Fine. I just hope you don’t wait too late for that better time.”

  She held the reply that teetered on the end of her tongue and let it go unsaid. As much as she wanted to focus on taking care of her guests, her worries over how Wes Carlyle’s death would affect the hotel had been eating away at her. I hope Detective Woods can lay this matter to rest before I have canceled reservations from people fearing for their safety. She trotted down the hall and knocked on the conference room door.

  “Come in,” the detective responded.

  He must have been expecting his next interview because he seemed surprised to see her.

  “I thought you were Kylie Carlyle,” he said.

  “Detective, I’ve stumbled onto some information that I need to share with you.”

  The detective motioned for someone behind her to enter the room. Oh, crap, Kylie must be standing behind me.

  “In private,” she whispered. “Can you spare a minute to speak in my office?”

  Kylie entered the conference room and took a seat.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment, Mrs. Carlyle.”

  He followed Celeste into her office, and she closed the door.

  “I’m glad that Kylie is your next interview,” she said. “Because I just learned that she’s the one who searched the suite last night after Emma and I left.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “How did you discover
that information?”

  “I overheard her telling a man named Bill Matthews that she had used Emma’s keycard to enter the suite. She was looking for some papers that Wes was supposed to ask Emma to sign, but she didn’t find them.”

  Celeste recalled the phone conversation she’d interrupted between Emma and her brother. Maybe, I shouldn’t mention it. I'm not certain that they were speaking about the same papers.

  “Is this the Bill Matthews who owns the public relations firm?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, I can get in touch with him, if necessary.”

  He reached for the doorknob. “Thank you, Mrs. Adams.”

  “It’s Celeste, please. My friend says that I watch too many mysteries, Detective Woods, and I realize that real life is different…”

  “But even in real life, all information is appreciated,” he said. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d call me, Brad.”

  “Of course, Brad.”

  His smile stopped her cold, and she nodded in return. Oh, my, that was a little more familiar than I was expecting. She wandered into the kitchen to finish the breakfast shift and once again, found Abby pitching in to help.

  “I’m serious,” Celeste said. “I owe you for today.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Abby said.

  Celeste glanced around. “Did Bill come in here?”

  “Yes, he came through here and went outside. I saw him walk around to the parking lot.”

  While they cleaned the kitchen, Celeste informed Abby of all that she’d seen and overheard among Wes Carlyle’s children.

  “Sounds like they’re not a pleasant crew,” Abby said. “But do you believe one of them is homicidal?”

  “I don’t want to, but I don’t want to believe that Emma killed her husband, either. There’s Bill, too. He’s certainly a suspect.”

  “Are you going to continue your business relationship with him?”

  “I realize that his personal life is none of my business,” Celeste said. “But I need to consider whether I can continue working with someone I’m beginning to dislike.”

  Abby removed her apron and dropped it into the basket next to the laundry room door.

  “Do what you feel is right for you, Celeste. I have to go. I promised Mark I’d go fishing with him at Price Lake today. Sundays aren’t too crowded. I wish you could come with us, but I’m sure you want to stay here in case you’re needed.”

  They hugged, and Abby waved goodbye. As Celeste walked to her cottage, she smelled smoke reminiscent of a campfire. Drawing closer, she saw Emma and her sister standing by the fire pit near the creek. Celeste could see paper burning in the flames. What have they set on fire?

  “What is that, Emma?”

  Emma spun around. Her face flushed. Is it from standing close to the fire or embarrassment at being caught destroying evidence?

  “Don’t worry. I’m not burning evidence,” Emma said as if she were telepathic.

  Celeste glanced at Beverly. “I’m not worried,” she said. “But I wouldn’t want you to do anything to get yourself into more trouble.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Right now, I’m not sure what that means. Am I suspect or not a suspect?”

  Should I tell her what I heard and that I repeated the same story to Detective Woods? He’ll be looking for those papers now.

  “What I burned are deed transfers of property that Dave and I owned,” Emma said. “Wes had offered to buy it from me a few months ago, but I held back for sentimental reasons. After he proposed to me, I realized that half of everything I have would be his anyway so right after the wedding, I signed the papers. He didn’t know. I was going to give them to him after we returned to the hotel from dinner, but…” Her voice choked, but she managed to continue. “Now that he’s gone, I’m not sure if I want to make that land part of the development Wes was planning. Dave inherited it from his grandparents. It was their farm and if I decide to sell it, I feel that I should consult with his family first.”

  “Is this the deal Wes was working on that was so important you had to delay your honeymoon?”

  “Yes, Wes wanted to develop some land west of Charlotte for a new golf resort, hotel, and conference center. Dave’s land…my land was to be part of it.”

  In her mind, Celeste sorted through the conversations she’d overheard between Kylie and others.

  “Was Kylie working on it?”

  “Oh, yes, she was a major player in the whole deal.” She paused and massaged her forehead as if she had a headache. “Kylie worked very hard to buy up parcels that Wes didn’t already own, but I didn’t like how heavy-handed she was being over my property.”

  Beverly poked a stick into the fire, and it blazed up. “Ryan checked with an appraiser friend of his. A hundred acres of land in a location that’s ripe for developing can go for around seven million dollars. When Wes offered to buy it from Emma before he proposed to her, his figure was considerably lower. I would almost call it an insult.”

  Emma swung around and glared at Beverly as if she hadn’t wanted her sister to impart that tidbit. Celeste dropped the subject and moved on to another item that had her curious—Missy’s disclosure concerning how Wes and Emma met.

  “Were you and Kylie friends before you started seeing her father-in-law?”

  “Kylie was an administrative assistant in the PR firm where I worked. We didn’t socialize, but of course, I saw her at work every day. She attended night school to get her real estate license and went to work for Wes around the same time that Dave died.”

  “I overheard a conversation between Missy and Jessica, and Missy said that Kylie introduced you to Wes.”

  Emma laughed and sat in one of the Adirondack chairs surrounding the fire pit.

  “She wasn’t playing matchmaker if that’s what you thought. I asked Kylie to handle the sale of a condo that Dave and I owned in North Myrtle Beach. I dropped by her office to sign some paperwork, and Wes was there. We struck up a conversation, and he got a little flirty with me. Salesmen can be like that, and I thought nothing of it, but he called me a few weeks later and asked me out to dinner.”

  Celeste sat in the chair beside Emma. A breeze blew across the fire and shifted the smoke in their direction. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand until it changed direction again. It gave her time to frame her next question.

  “Was Kylie working at your PR firm at the same time as Bill Matthews?” she asked.

  “She was there for at least five years so she could’ve been working for the firm before he quit.” She stopped and aimed a pensive stare at Celeste. “Why are you so interested in Kylie?”

  Celeste tapped her index finger against her lips. Should I tell her the whole story now? Here goes.

  “I’ve witnessed a couple of clandestine meetings between Kylie and Bill. They weren’t aware of my presence. I’ve come to the conclusion that they’re involved with each other.”

  Emma leaned forward and nearly came off the seat of her chair. “Involved, as in having an affair?”

  “Yes,” Celeste answered. “Unless, I’ve completely misinterpreted what I saw and heard, but in one incident, they were kissing.”

  “Oh, poor Alan,” Emma said. “He’s the nicest one of Wes’s sons. I’ve never told this to anyone else, but I’ve always suspected that Kylie married Alan to help her climb the ladder in Wes’s company. Wes said once that he thought she wanted to take over his business.”

  “I want to ask you something else,” Celeste said. “And I’m not insinuating or accusing you of anything.”

  “Celeste, you’ve been so kind to me, and I feel like you’re a straight-up, honest person. If something is bothering you, just ask.”

  She couldn’t think of a tactful way to put it so she came right out with it.

  “Did Bill visit you in the honeymoon suite the morning of your wedding?”

  Beverly sighed and shook her head before Emma answered.

  “Yes, he was there,” Emma said. “Li
ke all the other vultures swooping around, he wanted me to tell him what I intended to do with the land.”

  “So he spoke to you on Kylie’s behalf.”

  “Oh, no, he didn’t mention Kylie or the development. I had the impression that he was asking for himself. He told me to consider what Dave would’ve wanted me to do.”

  Celeste’s spine stiffened. Her distrust of Bill seemed to grow by the minute. Was he trying to do an end-run around Kylie, possibly even using her to get his hands on the property?

  “Beverly came to my rescue,” Emma continued. “She could tell that I was at my breaking point not only on that issue but also the fact that Mrs. Hill hadn’t arrived with my wedding gown. She shooed him away. That was only a few minutes before you brought our breakfast to us.”

  “Yes, I know…well, I didn’t at the time, but I do now. He wears distinctive cologne that he applies generously, and the scent was lingering in the hallway that morning.”

  Beverly laid a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “A policeman is coming this way.”

  Emma glanced down at the fire. The papers had burned to a small pile of ashes. Celeste stood and met Sergeant Hammond halfway down the path.

  “Mrs. Adams, Detective Woods asked me to tell you that we’re done here for today.”

  “Are you any closer to solving this mystery?” Celeste asked.

  “We’ve gathered a lot of information,” he said. “Detective Woods also asked me to thank you for all the help you’ve given us.”

  “If you need anything else, I’ll be right here,” she said.

  “Sergeant, is my sister free to leave?” Beverly Douglas asked. “I’d like to take her home.”

  A somber look appeared on his face. “We’ll contact you tomorrow after all the evidence is processed and…” He paused and looked away from her. “The autopsy is completed.”

  Emma’s disappointment shown on her face. She waited until the sergeant was out of sight before speaking again.

  “I don’t care how much evidence they gather or what the autopsy reveals. I didn’t kill Wes.”