Prologue to Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  “Anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Wait, yes.” She sat upright. “When we were at June’s house after the service, I overheard the black-haired man—well, at least I think it was him—quarrelling with Jeanie in the bedroom. Oh, and the weird-smelling tea I found at June’s, and the broken teacup.”

  He studied her, his pen creating a rapid staccato beat on the desk.

  “I’d have to look at my board.” She shook her head. “I know I’m missing some of the clues.” She snapped her fingers. “Tonight Lacey almost admitted to being the one who sent the dead rat. She told me to back off—the exact wording in the note. Don’t you think that’s too much of a coincidence?”

  His mouth pursed. She couldn’t help but note that his jaw tensed. “One more question.” He started writing in his notepad without looking up at her. “How does the good doctor, Simon Emerson, fit into all this?”

  Addie’s mouth dropped. “Probably the same way Lacey does.”

  “I doubt that.” He shook his head and continued to write.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied his detached features. It was no good. He’d masked his tell, that thingy he did by tensing his jaw when he was trying to hide his true thoughts and feelings about something. This told her that he wasn’t going to say anything else on the subject. She gripped the arms of the chair and stood. “Well, if that’s all for tonight, then I’ll let myself out.” She looked hesitantly at him. He nodded without looking at her. She made her way to the door and glanced over her shoulder. He was still writing. She shrugged and stepped out into the main reception area. The desk sergeant, Carolyn’s, eyes lit up when she saw her. She nodded her head toward the waiting room.

  “Serena, have you come to bail me out?” she said with a laugh, striding across the room with her arms spread wide to hug her friend. Lacey popped up from the chair behind her and pushed Serena aside, her notebook in hand. Addie froze in mid-motion. “Lacey, what on earth—”

  “Do you have a statement for the Greyborne Harbor Daily News?”

  Addie frowned and shook her head. Serena grabbed her arm and ushered her toward the door.

  “Don’t you have anything to say about the search warrant issued and your arrest tonight?” Lacey called after her.

  Addie spun on her heels, her nostrils flaring. Serena pushed her through the door.

  “Chief Chandler. Perhaps you can make a statement about Miss Greyborne’s arrest?”

  Addie looked back over her shoulder and blinked. Lacey’s bleached teeth flashed in the waiting room’s fluorescent lighting. She swore she saw fangs and blinked again as Serena shoved her out into the cool night air.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Why did you do that?” Addie tugged her arm from Serena’s clutches.

  “To stop another murder from happening, that’s why.”

  “Then why did you bring her to the station with you?”

  “I didn’t.” Serena led her around the side of the building to her older model Jeep Wrangler, parked in the visitors’ area. “She just showed up, after I was there.” She got in and unlocked the side door.

  “How did she know about the warrant and me going to the station with Marc?” Addie settled into the passenger’s seat.

  “I have no idea,” Serena said, buckling her seat belt, “but she arrived only minutes before you came out of Marc’s office and was purring like a cat with a mouse the whole time she was there.”

  Addie stared out the side window. “How did you know I was there?”

  “Simon called. He said he was on guard duty at your house, told me the whole story, and asked if I could swing by and drive you home when you were done there.”

  Addie glanced sideways at Serena, waiting for her to mention something snide about Simon calling on her behalf, but her friend focused on the road and said nothing.

  Addie relaxed and sat back. “You know, we haven’t had many chances to visit lately, since Lacey blew into town and ensnared both you and Marc in her web.” She almost spat out the last words. “So why don’t we stop somewhere for a quick drink and catch up before we head back?”

  Serena shook her head. “Can’t. Simon made me promise to bring you straight home. It sounds like he’s cooking up a surprise for you.”

  “As in actual cooking or as in plotting?”

  “You know him better than I do,” she chuckled. “Speaking of which . . .” Here it was. The confrontation Addie had feared would happen. “He seems like a great guy. You’re lucky. Did you know he even had Brian come around tonight and have your front door repaired?”

  Addie’s eye widened. “No, I didn’t.” So that was that. No heartache, no accusations from Serena about her stealing her love interest—just a genuine, friendly remark. Addie studied Serena as she maneuvered the car up the winding hill toward Addie’s house.

  “What?” Serena glanced sideways at her.

  “It’s just that, well, you seem to be taking my spending time with Simon better than I thought you would.”

  Serena waved her hand. “Forget it. Momentary fleeting crush. And besides, I’ve met someone.”

  “What? Who? Tell all.”

  “Remember that cute waiter from the Grey Gull . . . ?”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope, and he’s wonderful,” she sighed, pulling into Addie’s driveway. “Zach Ludlow. And guess what? He’s a descendant of the Roger Ludlow who helped establish the Connecticut colony back in the sixteen hundreds. Addie, he’s just perfect.”

  “That’s great news. I’m so happy for you. So what’s he like? What does he do—you know, besides being one of the Ludlows?” She chuckled.

  Serena snickered. “He said he’s a distant relative from the poorer side of the family, which is why he’s working his way through college.”

  “And?”

  “And he’s doing his third year of his four years of naturopathic medical school. These last two years are mostly hands-on, practical work, so he’s just moved here from his college in Bridgeport, Connecticut, to work at the Essence Wellness Center down in the harbor with Dr. Lee.” She squealed and then sighed. “He’s kind and gentle, he loves my quirkiness, and he’s just . . . just everything I’ve ever wanted in a man.”

  As they came to a full stop, Addie reached over and hugged her bubbling friend. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “And I want you to know,” Serena said as she shut off the ignition and unbuckled her seat belt, “I may have fallen into Lacey’s web, but tonight I wiggled myself free and am beginning to see what Marc’s tried to tell me for years.”

  Addie reached over and patted her hand. “Welcome back from the dark side,” she said, laughing. “Now, what’s Marc’s excuse? He knows better.”

  “Who knows?” She hopped out, but then popped her head back in. “You’re right. He knows her better than anyone does. I wonder what she has on him.”

  “Or him on her.” Addie scowled and headed for the front door. “Brian did a great job. I’m glad he added the metal door strip and lock plate. That should help deter the police the next time they want to use their battering ram.” She opened the door and stepped inside.

  The heady scents of garlic and lemon immediately enticed her senses, but most inviting was the comforting aroma of an oven-roasted chicken. “Wow, what has he been up to?” She tossed her purse and jacket on the side table and headed for the kitchen to explore the source of the banging and clattering that echoed through the main floor.

  Simon was maneuvering the hot roasting pan from the oven. Her gaze settled on the island top, which was covered with stacks of mixing bowls, measuring cups, and an array of cooking utensils that Addie didn’t even know she owned. She stood with her hand on the doorframe, cringing at the sight of his handiwork. Serena joined her and burst out laughing. Simon spun around, and the chicken slid out of the pan and splattered onto the counter.

  He hung his head. “At least it didn’t land on the floor.” He used the lifter forks to plac
e it on the platter. He stood back. “Voilà.”

  “And to what do I owe the honor of this culinary delight?” Addie smiled, walking over to the counter.

  He shrugged. “I was bored and nervous waiting to hear from you. Which, by the way, why didn’t you call?”

  “I was sort of busy.” She dipped her finger in the mashed potato bowl and licked off a clump. “I was hauled off to the police station, remember?”

  “So, are you a free woman then?”

  “She’s very free.” Serena winked at Addie and slid onto a stool at the island. “And now I’m not the only jailbird here,” she chuckled. Addie nudged her with her shoulder.

  “So, what do you need us to do?” Addie looked at the bowls of vegetables, the gravy boat, and the steaming chicken that were spread across the counter. “Everything looks so perfect.”

  “Thank you.” He grinned, his eyes casting an enticing wave over her. A heated rush raced through her, and she felt as if she’d been thoroughly cooked, much like the chicken laying before her. “Nothing. The dining room is set out. You two can go ahead, and I’ll bring the food in. Go.” He waved his hand in a shooing motion.

  “Are you sure we can’t help?” Serena glanced at all the dishes to be carried in.

  “Positive. Go.” He looked at Addie hovering at the side of the island. “Both of you, now, scoot.”

  * * *

  Dinner was delightful. Addie sat back, looking at her tablemates, and smiled. It was exciting having Serena back in her life to share her theories with again and to hear Simon’s fresh insights from a medical professional’s perspective. She relayed some of the points that she’d noted on her blackboard earlier and then told them about her conversation tonight with Dorothy and her thoughts about how Dorothy perhaps was upset about June moving forward without her. Serena confirmed that the two women had been childhood friends but said that as far as she knew, Dorothy had been happy for June’s success. Then Addie tossed out the information she had received from Ida about how Dorothy was also good friends with Jeanie and supported her affair with Steven, too. Serena appeared taken aback by that tidbit but didn’t say much. Addie went on to share her observations about Jeanie’s reaction to her inquiring as to whether Gloria also knew Steven, since they were in the same industry, and how Jeanie abruptly left after that.

  “Well, even with hearing all this local town gossip—and most of it is just that, I think—my money is on Lacey.” Simon poured them another glass of wine, set the empty bottle down, and leaned forward on his elbows.

  Serena stopped in mid-sip. “Really? Why do you think that?”

  “Because I don’t think the rest of it is consequential; just coincidental. Besides, I think that from what Addie’s told us about Lacey’s none-too-professional dealings in LA and the family feud that took place, she has the most to gain by murdering a woman who may have known the whereabouts of a pirated fortune. You know, avenging her family name while making a name for herself as an ace reporter.” He took a sip and flicked a glance at Addie.

  She leaned forward, matching his posture. “But do you really think she’d murder someone? If anything, she wants a story that will propel her back into the spotlight.”

  He nodded. “True, but perhaps it got out of hand, her trying to set it up and discredit you and the Greyborne name, and, well—”

  “I’ve known her my whole life,” said Serena. “I don’t think she’d kill anyone. Although I wouldn’t put it past her to be the anonymous tip caller.”

  “I agree.” Simon raised his glass in a toast.

  Addie sat back, tapping her fingers on the table. “She seems desperate and scared. Maybe Simon is onto something. It’s worth considering, anyway.”

  “No.” Serena fidgeted with her napkin. “She can be devious when she wants something, like how she hired Paige to work in my shop without even telling me about it, but—”

  “She did what?” Addie’s elbow sipped off the edge of the table.

  Serena’s freckles popped out as her face paled. “You didn’t know.” She looked down at her empty plate.

  “No. So that’s what was bothering Paige today.” She shook her head. “I wonder when she was planning on telling me she was quitting.”

  “As far as I know, which isn’t much these days. Since it seems Lacey has made herself the controlling partner of my tea shop.” Serena leaned forward on her elbows. “My understanding is that Paige told her that she’d work for her only during our newly scheduled seven a.m. early opening time—Lacey’s idea, not mine—to help out with the before-work rush and during her lunch break from your shop and that’s it.”

  Simon cleared his throat. “As I was saying. My money is still on Lacey.”

  Addie bit her lip and looked at him. Her brow furrowed, and then she looked at Serena. “Tell me about her brother Dean.”

  “Her brother? What does he have to do with anything?”

  “Well, I found out tonight that aside from the chairman of the town council, Dean was the only other person known to have read June’s original manuscript, and I’m just curious, I guess.”

  “There’s not much to say about him.” Serena sat back. “He’s a few years older than her, not too bright as far as I’m concerned, always looking for a get-rich-quick scheme. He worked at Fielding’s Department Store for a while, or was more like their errand boy, and then he went out to live with Lacey last year in LA with high hopes of becoming a famous actor, but never even got an audition. When he came back, I heard someone loaned him some money, and he set up a small charter boat company.” She took a sip of her wine. “There’s nothing remarkable about him. He’s the kind of person that’s always chasing the dream or after those he thinks can lead him to it. But I really never knew him well.” She shrugged. “I think he just considered me as one of the little girls who used to tag along after Lacey.”

  “What are you thinking, Addie?” Simon asked.

  “Just wondering.” She looked at Serena. “Did Lacey mention if her brother ever met Lacey’s friend Peter when he was out there?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “Is it important?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can ask her, then.”

  “Please, but discreetly.”

  “Okay.” Serena stood and began to clear the table. “Not sure what you’re thinking with that. She’s never mentioned anyone named Peter to me, so I don’t think he would have been important to her.”

  “It’s just a name she brought up tonight.” Addie handed her plate to Serena. “And that on top of hearing she has a brother and he’s spent time out on the West Coast and him being one of the only two people who read June’s first draft, well . . .” She frowned. “Was his trip to the West Coast after he was on the town council?”

  “Yes, I think it was. It was kind of sudden, too. He just up and left one day. He’s only been back a couple of months. Do you think he’s involved somehow?”

  Addie shook her head. “I’m thinking out loud. Just ignore me. I’m still trying to put puzzle pieces together, and I’m tired, so maybe they’re getting all jumbled up in my head.”

  “Well, I think you might be onto something with your suspicions as far as Lacey is concerned, at least.” Simon rose and began removing serving dishes from the table. “I think this Lacey person sounds like a prime suspect.”

  “Simon, was the detail about the shovel being a suspected murder weapon ever released to the public?”

  “No, I don’t think it was, because although the blow to the head with the shovel probably caused the fall, it was the fall that actually killed her. Why?”

  “Because . . . whoever called in the anonymous tip to the police knew about the suggestion of a shovel. How?”

  “You’re right.” Serena almost dropped the chicken platter. “Who would have known about the autopsy report?”

  Addie sat back, toying with her wineglass. “I wonder,” she said slowly, her eyes set on the red liquid she was swirling around in
her crystal goblet.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  With the dinner dishes done and put away, and with no trace of Simon’s gallant cooking event left in sight, Addie walked her zombielike guests to the front door. When they’d left, she collapsed against it. She rubbed the pounding spot at the base of her skull and glanced at the mantel clock over the fireplace in the living room. Past two a.m. No wonder she was exhausted and her head was spinning. She locked the door, set the alarm, and dragged her reluctant legs up the stairs toward her bed. Her foot hovered over the top step. She sighed, glancing woefully at her bedroom door as she passed by it, her focus now on the doorway at the end of the corridor.

  She opened the door leading to the attic staircase and flipped on the light switch at the bottom. Her legs rebelled, but she pushed on and stood breathless at the top. She scoured her hands over her face and shook her head. What was she thinking? But something that Dorothy had said at the meeting nagged at her, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she had a quick look.

  Addie skirted around stacks of books, wooden crates, and cardboard boxes that still screamed out for her attention. They were a reminder of how she’d felt that day when she first discovered this treasure trove of her great-aunt’s possessions, but tonight her mind was focused only on the small door across the main attic room. This back room had been neglected in her previous attic adventures because she’d been overwhelmed by the sheer volume of sorting in the outer rooms. However, this evening when Dorothy mentioned June having worked up here, she had vaguely recalled seeing a small writing desk on that first day of exploration. Tonight, it wouldn’t take long to confirm her suspicions as that being June’s work space, and besides, maybe she’d get lucky and find the original manuscript in there.

  Trace scents of dusty, stale air combined with aged leather nipped at her nose. With her hand, she explored the wall beside her for a light switch. Success. The small room filled with a glowing yellow hue, and there by the window was the ornately carved secretary’s desk. On it was the very thing she had come to find.