Prologue to Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  “Are you sure? Will he be able to see you right away?”

  “Yes, he’s been my doctor my whole life. It won’t be a problem.”

  “Sure, if you insist.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She leaned forward and peeked under her sock. “It’s stopped bleeding by the looks of it. It’s just throbbing a bit right now. It’s right there.” She pointed to an office building on the left-hand corner of the side street.

  Addie made a sharp right turn and stopped.

  “This is good. Thanks again for lunch, Addie.”

  “You probably shouldn’t be walking on it. Let me at least wait and drive you home.”

  “No, I’m just up the road.” She waved her hand. “I’ll be fine,” she called, limping across the street to the office.

  Addie shrugged, made a U-turn on the side street, and headed back on Main toward the town center. She checked her rearview mirror and stiffened. Gripping the wheel tighter, she accelerated. The black SUV behind her did the same. She made a sharp left down Birch Road, but it kept pace. When she hit the brakes and veered left into the alley running to the rear entrance to her shop, the SUV flew past on Birch. She pulled into her parking spot and dropped her forehead on the steering wheel. Her heart pounded against her chest, the sound swooshing through her ears.

  Making sure the coast was clear, she hopped out, her eyes skimming the alley as she hurried to the door. She disarmed the alarm, flipped on the lights, threw her jacket on the desk, willed her wobbly knees to the front of the shop, and froze. The fine hairs at the back of her neck prickled. Across the street was the SUV. She edged backward and crashed into a display rack, sending the items on it into freefall. Books flew in all directions, but her eyes never the left the car. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a police cruiser parking in front of Martha’s bakery. Marc jumped out, and a wave of relief flooded through her. She looked back at the SUV as it pulled away and sped off toward Main Street.

  She heaved a heavy sigh and smiled, but Marc strode past her door, patted his hand on his gun holster, and without even a sideways glance went into SerenaTEA.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Addie’s shoulders sagged in resignation. Something had obviously changed between them. There was a time when he’d pop in to see her before he stopped in at Serena’s, but now? He’d become distant toward her recently, and she wasn’t certain why. She took a deep breath and turned her attention to the pirate and American Revolutionary War historical fiction novels she’d arranged for the window displays. Perhaps it was time to make some changes. She glanced at Marc’s patrol car and nodded. Yes, changes were exactly what she needed right now. A fresh outlook and . . . Marc led Serena past her window. He flung open the back door of his patrol car and ushered her into the back seat, went around to the driver’s side, removed his cap, tossed it on the passenger seat, and drove off.

  “No, not again.” Addie grabbed her handbag and sprinted out the rear door.

  She raced into the police station parking lot and flew up the front stairs, coming to a screeching halt at the sergeant’s desk. “Hi. Carolyn, isn’t it? We’ve met before, I’m—”

  The desk sergeant jerked and blinked at her. “Yes, Miss Greyborne. Hello.”

  “Where’s Serena Chandler? She was just brought in, right?”

  “Umm, yes, the chief’s with her now.” Her head motioned toward his office door. “You can have a seat over there until they’re done, if you like.” Carolyn pointed to a row of plastic waiting room chairs.

  Addie took a seat and tapped her foot to the rhythm of the clock ticking away the seconds. Over an hour passed before Marc’s office door opened. Addie jumped to her feet, but the door abruptly slammed shut. The sergeant looked at Addie and shrugged.

  Addie drummed her fingers on the magazine sitting unread on her lap. She glanced toward the clock, then at her phone. Time felt as though it was standing still, and she shifted on her hard chair. The door opened. Serena burst into the waiting room, but stopped when she saw Addie. Her usually soft brown eyes were red and swollen. She began to speak, but no words came out. She spun on her heel and fled out the door.

  Marc stood in his doorframe, hands on hips, staring at Addie. He took a deep breath and waved her into the office. Closing the door behind her, he took his place behind the desk. She leaned her back against the door, shaking, tears stinging at her eyes.

  “Have a seat in a chair, please, Miss Greyborne.” He cleared his throat and motioned opposite him.

  Her eyes widened. “Miss Greyborne? Is that what it’s come to?” She plopped down, glaring at him. This was her chair, not to be referred to as a chair. After all the hours she’d spent in it over the past while, she had laid claim to it. No matter what Chief Sour Pants said.

  He fumbled with the papers in front of him on the desk, straightened his shoulders, and looked up at her. His brown eyes, cold and dark, bore into hers. “What brings you in today?”

  She tried to speak, but snapped her mouth closed and glared at him.

  “I’m afraid, Miss Greyborne, that I am very busy. So, if that’s all, I’ll show you out.” He stood up and leaned his hands on the desk.

  “No, I’m not leaving until you tell me exactly what is going on,” she snapped and rose to her feet.

  They stood glowering at each other over the desktop.

  Marc’s shoulders drooped, and he sat back down. Scrubbing his hands through his thick, chestnut-brown hair, he mumbled, “What is it you want to know?”

  “What I want to know,” she said, taking her seat, “is why you questioned Serena so harshly last night at my place and why you dragged her in here today?”

  He blew out a deep breath into his hands and sighed. “When I saw the box and read the note at your place, I got worried, okay?”

  “What does that have to do with Serena, and with why you’re suddenly treating me like we’re strangers?” She stared blankly at him.

  “Because, well, because I’ve seen that box before.”

  “You have? Where? What are you talking about?”

  He spun around in his chair, his back to her. “I gave a welcome-home gift to Lacey when she first came back, and it was in that same box.”

  She jumped to her feet but found her knees unwilling to support her. Oozing back into her chair, she bit out every word. “You gave it to Lacey?”

  “Ye . . . yes.” His voice was barely a whisper as he turned his chair and faced her.

  “So the warning is from her?”

  “It appears so.” His head slumped down onto his chest. He sucked in a heavy breath. “I just couldn’t believe I was responsible for what she did. I’m so sorry.” His eyes softened as he gazed into hers.

  “You? How are you responsible?”

  “Because if I hadn’t stretched the truth and told her that you and I were a couple now, none of this would have ever happened. I had no idea just how crazy she’s become.” He slammed his hand on the desk. “Like I said, she’s a piranha.”

  “So why did you go after Serena the way you did? She had nothing to do with it, did she?”

  He shrugged. “Think about it. Knowing what I did about the origin of the gift box and you telling me Serena handed it to you when she came in, it stands to reason that she was Lacey’s messenger. I needed to find out if Serena was a willing participant or another victim in Lacey’s conniving scheme.”

  “I see. Yes.” She looked down into her lap and wiped her damp palms on her jeans. “But would Lacey have been that careless?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you gave her the box in the first place, and knew she had it, would she use the same box to threaten me with a dead rat? It would automatically make her the number one suspect, wouldn’t it?”

  “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of it like that. I was too busy feeling guilty and thinking of ways to avoid you to protect you from her.” He rubbed his chin. “But even she’s smarter than that.”

  “Exactly!” Addie clap
ped. “Now we’re getting somewhere. See what a great crime-fighting team we make?” She grinned.

  He chuckled and shook his head. “A crime-fighting team, no. But two friends talking, that I can live with.” He winked.

  She leaned forward. “So, friend,” she said, giving him a crooked smile, “now we just have to figure out how someone would have gotten their hands on the box. Has Lacey reported a robbery, anything out of the norm?”

  He shook his head.

  Addie slumped back in her chair.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I was just thinking what I do know about Lacey. She is devious, given what she did in LA, and what she has pulled off here with you in the past, and how she manipulates people like Serena, so—”

  Marc leaned forward. “So?”

  “So maybe she did send it, knowing full well that you would know where it came from originally, which she’s using to actually deflect from her guilt. Because you would automatically think she wouldn’t be that careless, and that someone else would have to have sent it. Chances are, now that you have accused Serena of being the messenger, Lacey will try to tell you that she threw it away and that someone must have plucked it out of her garbage.”

  “First you say Lacey wouldn’t have sent it, then you say she did? That’s a quite a flip-flop, even for you, isn’t it?”

  “Never mind,” she chuckled. “I’m just thinking out loud.”

  “That does sound a bit too devious of a plot even for Lacey.”

  “Well, she has been living in LA.” She smiled. “Maybe television and film plots have worked their way into her scheming mind. Who knows, maybe she was dating a screenwriter.”

  “Yes, maybe,” Marc chuckled.

  She loved that sound. “You never know.” She stood up. “Thanks for telling me about the box and finally why you’ve been behaving so weirdly. Although, I thought we knew each other well enough that you could have called or texted to tell me that you were avoiding me for my safety.”

  The corners of his lips turned up in a sheepish smile, and he looked down at his desk. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wasn’t thinking clearly I guess, and distancing me from you was my instant reaction in wanting to protect you. Not a well calculated one though it seems.” He raised his doleful eyes to hers.

  “No. It wasn’t as far as I’m concerned. I thought we were closer than that, but today, you have cleared up a lot of questions—doubts that I had, so thank you. In the future, if you want to protect me from something, or someone, please discuss it with me first so we can work it out together, okay?” She gave him a clipped nod, hoping her eyes conveyed her annoyance with him but also her forgiveness of his blunder in judgement, and then she turned and headed toward the door.

  Marc rose. “Are you leaving?”

  “Yeah, I’d better go talk to Serena.”

  “Just a warning, Lacey was in her store when I was there.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” she said over her shoulder as she headed to the door.

  “Speaking of stores, why was yours closed most of the afternoon?”

  She spun around, batting her eyelashes. “What, were you checking on me?”

  “I drove by a few times, trying to work up the nerve to pick up Serena, and noticed the closed sign.”

  “Well, if you must know, I took Paige out for lunch to the Smuggler’s Den.”

  His face went ashen. “Why?”

  “Because I loved it and wanted to take her there.”

  “No other reason?”

  A warm blush spread up her neck to her cheeks.

  “Addie, what have you been up to?”

  “Well . . .” She leaned against the door. “I found another old map of June’s and just wanted to see the landmarks that she had noted on it for myself.”

  “Is that all?” He placed his hands on his hips, his eyes focused on hers.

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “What?”

  “When Paige and I were heading back to the car after our walk down to the cave entrance, some rocks tumbled onto the path, and Paige got hurt.”

  “Is she okay?” His eyes widened.

  “She seems fine. I dropped her off at her doctor’s office.”

  “That’s good.” He sighed. “But I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything that happened?”

  She looked past him to the window.

  “Addie?”

  She heaved a deep breath. “No, I’m not.”

  “Aha, I knew it. Sit back down and tell me what else happened.”

  She walked to the chair. A sense that she had been sent to the principal’s office washed through her as she plopped back down into it.

  “I’m waiting.” He stood towering over her, arms still crossed.

  She took a deep breath. “Unless you plan on paddling me, Principal Chandler, I suggest you quit treating me like a naughty little schoolgirl.”

  He perched himself on the edge of the desk. “Does this mean you don’t role-play?”

  “Never you mind. Now, do you remember the man who was seated across from us at the restaurant last night?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “He struck me as odd because he was so unfriendly and aloof.”

  “You were bothering him, and he was trying to eat.”

  “I know, I know, but later when we were eating and talking, he seemed to be listening too hard to every word we were saying. Anyway, this morning Jeanie dropped by my shop with a box of old notes her mother had made when she was researching her book, which,” she went on quickly, “is where I found the map that was more detailed than the one she had published in her paper.”

  Marc stroked his chin, his eyes never leaving her face.

  “When she left my store, a man in a black SUV was parked behind her car, obviously waiting for her. He got out, they appeared to exchange a few heated words, and she left, but when he turned around . . . well, it was the same man from the restaurant.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Anyway,” she said, waving her hand, “I was curious about the papers she had dropped off and began thumbing through them, came across the map, and wanted to go see for myself.”

  “So you dragged poor Paige along with you?”

  She nodded.

  “But that’s not the end of it, is it?” His eyes narrowed.

  She took a deep breath. “After lunch, I wanted to take a walk around the site, and Paige and I headed down the very safe”—she looked up at him reassuringly—“guard-railed pathway behind the restaurant.”

  His lips tightened.

  “That’s when I noticed a black SUV in the parking lot.”

  Marc clutched the side of the desk.

  “We went down to the beach. I saw the cave and the rocky outcrop where the gnarled tree once was, and their position in relation to the restaurant, and . . .”

  “And what?” He stood up.

  “We headed back up the path. That’s when the smallish”—she held her index finger and thumb an inch apart—“rock slide happened and a chunk of rock hit Paige in the ankle. When we got back to the parking lot the SUV was gone, but when I got back to my shop, it was parked across the street. Then you pulled up, and it sped away.”

  “Damn you, Addie. You are supposed to bring me everything you come across and let me assess whether or not it’s worth pursuing. You can’t keep going off on your own like this, especially after the note you received. Let me do the actual investigating.” He leaned toward her.

  His breath wafted across her cheek. His closeness confused her. She wanted to slap him and kiss him senseless at the same time, and by the look in his eyes, he was probably thinking the same things about her. Hoping he didn’t sense that she was still holding back a few of the minor details, like the bit about that SUV actually following her back to the shop, she innocently gazed into his eyes.

  “Then why on earth would you do such a dumb thing? This is still a very much open murder investigation, and we still have no idea wh
at or who is behind it.” He flopped into the chair beside her.

  “Did you say ‘murder investigation’?” She sat upright. “Did the autopsy report come back?”

  Marc nodded.

  “What did it say?”

  “Blunt force trauma to the back of her head. The fatal blow appears to have been delivered by a large, flat object.”

  “A flat object? Could it be a shovel or a . . . I don’t know.”

  “What on earth would make you think of a shovel?”

  “I’m just throwing ideas out there. Maybe one of them will be the right one. After all, her body was found in a chamber leading to a tunnel system, and when I think of tunnels, I think of digging.”

  Marc sat forward, stroking the back of her hand, which was resting on the arm of the chair. “How can I say this so you’re not offended?”

  Her heart raced at his touch, but at the look on his face, she pressed her toes to the floor and braced for the worst.

  “Let the police do our job, please.” His eyes pleaded with her. “It’s just a theory. There’s no proof of any of that.”

  She stood up. “If it’s proof you want, then drive me to my car and follow me home. I’ll show you the proof.” She strode toward the door and looked back. “Well, are you coming?”

  “Okay.” He heaved a heavy sigh and rose, snatching his hat off the desk. “But it’s getting late, so you’d better make it worth my while.”

  “Don’t worry.” She winked over her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll even feed you.”

  He stifled a laugh. “Scoot. Go,” he snickered, pointing to the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Addie bound up her front porch steps. A car door slammed behind her. Boots crunched on the gravel driveway, and a hand tugged at her jacket sleeve. “Whoa, there, missy! I should’ve pulled you over for careless driving.”

  “What?” She spun toward Marc. “When?”

  “You were going so fast I almost lost you twice.”

  “Well, I just had some evasive-driving practice earlier, remember?” Her slip of the tongue about her recent occurrence with the black SUV stung in her throat. “Never mind, just joking.” She sucked in a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t using his cop radar on her right now.