“What about his mother?” Willow glanced back at Charley who nodded at her to continue. “She works in the laundry of the Bonaventure, doesn’t she?”
“There’s no laundry in the hotel itself. Rachel Glasner collects the dirty wash and returns it a day later, nice and clean.” Hilary planted her feet and stared firmly back at Willow. “She doesn’t have access to the rooms, and she certainly can’t get hold of the passkeys.”
A worried frown passed over Hilary’s face, and Willow leaned forward again. “Why don’t you tell us what’s going on? Maybe we can help.”
“Nothing is going on.” If Hilary’s arms crossed any tighter, she’d soon lose circulation.
“We know that isn’t true. Nobody in this town meets down a back alley unless they’re up to no good. I don’t believe that profile fits you, so it must be something else that caused your aberrant behavior. If you don’t let us know, sooner or later you know someone will bring it up to the sheriff.”
“And what are you going to say to him? That I answered your questions and tried to help as best I could?”
Willow shook her head. “That it was obvious someone has placed you in a stressful position, and you might have done something against your best interests to get yourself back out.”
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Hilary said, swiping a hand across her face that came away wet. “The whole thing is over with.”
“What whole thing?” Willow put an arm on Hilary’s shoulder and pulled her into a gentle hug. “It’s clear that it’s not over for you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so upset.”
“I got my photograph back. It’s done.”
“What photograph?” Charley stepped forward and tapped Willow on the shoulder until she released Hilary. “Did Barrett take a picture of you in a compromising position?”
Hilary fought a struggle against herself for a brief moment, her face twisting through a dozen different expressions before she fixed into hopelessness. “He took a shot of me taking some change off the bedside cabinet of one of the hotel guests. It was stupid of me, I’m not a thief, but it was just sitting out there, and I was short of money for the bus home.” She dropped her shoulder in a slump of defeat. “I genuinely didn’t think anyone would care or notice.”
“But Barrett got a photo of you?” Willow pressed. “Did he use it to blackmail you?”
“He tried.” Hilary shook her head and wiped the last of the tears away from her face. She seemed calmer now, accepting that whatever fight she’d been involved with was now at an end. “I gave him the room key on Sunday for the afternoon. I hoped that would be the end of it, but he went running by me that night and got out of the hotel before I could get the photograph back. When he came to me on Monday, I took the opportunity. Now, it’s all over.”
“What opportunity?” Charley frowned in confusion. “I thought you said you hadn’t let him into the room again.”
“I didn’t. He went upstairs anyway and came screaming down a few minutes later, saying he’d seen the manager all covered in blood. He was so freaked out I told him to meet me later this week and I’d protect him so long as he gave me the photograph back.”
“You protected him after he murdered Aaron Meiser?” Willow took a step back and covered her open mouth in horror.
“No!” Hilary’s eyes widened. “I’d never do anything like that! Aaron Meiser was dead before Barrett went upstairs. That’s what upset the boy so much.”
“How do you know?” Willow’s voice wasn’t a challenge, just full of genuine curiosity and she was relieved when Hilary took it in kind.
“He said the body was in the room upstairs and described our manager. A few minutes later, that same body was downstairs, out on the street. There’s no way Barrett could’ve managed that by himself, especially not in the state he was in. Besides, as soon as he told me, he got back into his mother’s van.” She shrugged. “I can’t believe that anyone except the murderer would bother to push a body out of an upstairs window, can you?”
Willow had to nod in agreement. That was the only explanation that made sense. “But if Barrett wasn’t the one who killed Mr. Meiser, who was upstairs who could have done it?”
The question was more of a musing to herself than a question she expected an answer to, but Willow received one all the same.
“The only person from the hotel who was up there at the time was Gary Riley. If he didn’t do it, then I guess only Barrett could give you an answer.”
Chapter Twelve
Going directly to the source suited Willow far more than she let on to the others. While Charley and Hilary prevaricated about how they should just leave it all alone and let the sheriff deal with the matter, Willow secretly harbored dreams of being the investigator who solved the case.
Miss Walsham would be in town in a few months’ time to film some new episodes and Willow could just envision herself in that role!
So it was Willow who stepped forward and knocked firmly on the door belonging to the Glasners. When Barrett’s mother answered, Willow felt a pang of pity for the woman. Rachel looked harried and distraught at the intrusion, but even more worried about her boy.
No wonder.
When Barrett came into the room after a call from his mother, Willow could see he hadn’t spent any more time sleeping than she’d done the night before. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, and he wiped the back of his nose on a sleeve as he walked over to the sofa to sit down.
“Is this about your house?” he asked in a morose voice. “I’m sorry for the paint and stuff. It was Justin’s idea.”
“No,” Willow said, avoiding the curious stare from Hilary. “We’re not here about that. The sheriff is already dealing with that matter to my satisfaction. This is to do with Monday morning at the Bonaventure Hotel.”
At the words, Barrett jerked his head up, his eyes opening wide and his mouth dropping open. The look conveyed pure fear. “I had nothing to do with the murder!”
“That’s not quite true, is it?” Hilary said, moving over and taking a seat next to the boy. “I think you should tell these people what you saw. I’m sorry that I didn’t ask you to do it at the time, but I was selfish.”
“What’s she talking about, Barrett?” Rachel Glasner said.
Her voice was low, but it must have carried a lot of weight with her son as he bowed his head, wringing his hands together in his lap.
“I saw Mr. Meiser dead,” Barrett said in a whisper. “It was awful.”
His mother gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. After a minute, she took it away. “You saw who killed him?”
It was the question that Willow had wanted to ask, and she stared with keen eyes at the boy. Although Barrett kept his gaze set on the ground, his shoulders transformed into a hard line as he replied, “I think so. I’m not sure.”
“What did you see?” Willow asked. “If you can tell us that, it might help you to remember details that’ll help out the sheriff.”
“I don’t know,” the teen said in a louder voice. He looked up, glaring at Willow but his sudden recalcitrance was halted in its step by his mother.
“You tell them what you saw,” Rachel insisted. “It doesn’t matter how much trouble you think you’ll get into for it. This isn’t something that the local magistrate will gloss over with a sentence for community service. This is murder. It’s important that they lock the right person up for the crime.”
“It wasn’t me. That’s all you need to know.”
Willow had thought that Barrett’s mother would be a pushover. She blushed as she realized that she’d based her conclusions on nothing more than public gossip about how the boy ran wild. Her thoughts had immediately leaped from there to thinking that the woman didn’t have time to make sure her son was raised properly. Now Rachel stood in front of her with a steel backbone propping up her small frame, Willow saw her assumption was wrong.
“I raised you better than that, Barrett. I know you don’t care what other people in
this town think, but I’ve always believed you’re a good boy who knows right from wrong. If you want anybody else in the Valley to believe that too, you need to tell us everything, right this minute. It’s not right to hide information just because you’re scared.”
A tear slipped out of Barrett’s eye, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “There was a lady and a man upstairs in the room. I went up there because me and Justin had been in there the night before, and we’d left a lot of stuff behind. I’d fixed the door so we could get back in there—” Barrett nodded to Hilary “—whether you gave us the key or not. Turned out that someone else had found the room was open too.”
“Who were the lady and man you saw, Barrett?” Willow asked. “Did you recognize them?”
“I ain’t ever seen them before,” the boy replied. He frowned, apparently deep in thought for a minute, then shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say they weren’t from around here at all.”
Willow turned to Charley, who was staring at the teenager with a look of puzzlement. “That makes no sense,” he said when she gave him a nudge with her elbow. “You don’t murder somebody you don’t know. Not like that.”
“He’s right,” Hilary said. “Whoever did Mr. Meiser in that way must’ve known him. I’ve often wanted to bop him on the nose or give him a slap, but that’s because I’ve worked with him for years and he still doesn’t treat me with any respect. Somebody just passing through wouldn’t have the same reaction.”
“And if they were just stopping by the town, they would’ve run for it the moment they realized he was dead,” Willow said, continuing the line of thought.
Hilary pulled out her phone. “Just a minute,” she said, raising one finger before anybody could ask the question. “Here.” She shoved the phone into the young man’s face.
He took it from her, peering at the screen that was so small Willow could only make out blotches of color. After a second, his face cleared, and he nodded, eyes bright with recognition. “That’s the woman.”
“Who is it?” Willow asked, half-holding her breath.
“It’s the ex Mrs. Meiser,” Hilary answered, passing the phone across to Willow for her to inspect. The image was of a barbecue in the park, packed full with the employees of the hotel. “It’s our office fourth of July picnic from last year. I think that’s one of the few times that Mrs. Meiser deigned to join us.”
“Of course!” Willow exclaimed while Charley looked on in puzzlement. “She was at the Bonaventure on Sunday night with her forensic accountant. Apparently, Aaron Meiser had been cooking the books.”
“Right,” Rachel Glasner said, pushing her way out of the room to fetch her jacket. When she came back in to drag her son up from the couch, her lips were set in a firm line. “We’re going down to the sheriff’s office right now to get this sorted. I can’t believe the cheek of that woman trying to lay the blame on my son!”
* * *
They were still seated in the waiting area of the station when Mary-Jo received the call they’d been waiting for. “He’s got them both,” she announced with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. “Sheriff Wender is bringing them right in.”
After the interview that they’d insisted Mary-Jo call the sheriff straight back into town to perform, the group had waited impatiently while Wender and his deputies mounted a search for the errant ex-wife.
During their talk, Barrett had broken down when he recounted turning up at the hotel room he’d been at the night before, only to find it already occupied.
“I thought it would be a guest, and me and Justin would be raked over the coals for what we’d done the previous evening. Instead, I peeked through the slit in the door and saw blood everywhere!”
Willow and Charley had both blanched just at the words. How much worse had it been for Barrett to bear witness to such a terrible thing? No wonder he’d turned tail and run out of the building, back to the safety of his mother’s laundry van.
Justin and Barrett had brought in the brick that must have been used to kill Aaron Meiser. It had been part of their pile of ammunition the night before. Although they’d both put up a good game, when it came down to it neither of them had dared to drop such a weighty thing onto the sidewalk beneath, even when nobody was walking by. When they ran out of the hotel that night, it had been left up in the room.
“She must have whacked him over the head,” Barrett had said in a broken voice to the sheriff. “I guess after that, they just wanted to hide their crime so tossed his dead body out the window.”
“And smashed the vase and glass afterward, to make it look like an accident,” Sheriff Wender had surmised. “Although, they didn’t do a very good job of that.”
“For such a wicked pair, I’m glad they were clumsy,” Willow had said just before they walked back through to the waiting room. “Otherwise, either Barrett or Gary would be locked up for a crime that neither one of them committed.”
“I don’t even really understand,” Charley admitted as they sat on the hard, plastic chairs. “If they’re already divorced, then finding the money is a case of too little, too late. If it wasn’t discovered in time for the decree, then the ex will never see a penny of his stash.”
“All the better of a reason to kill him,” Willow said, understanding the driving emotion, where the logic of the crime escaped her friend. “If she couldn’t get the benefit of all the earnings he’d squirreled away over the years, then neither should he.”
“You are a piece of scum,” Rachel called out to Mrs. Meiser as the sheriff led the ex-wife past their huddled group. “How dare you be so careless that my son saw a dead body before he’s even eighteen? Even worse, how could you leave him to take the blame?”
The woman straightened her back at the hurled invectives, not deigning to look at or answer Rachel’s questions.
While Willow sympathized with Rachel, she restrained herself from any comment as Mrs. Meiser and her accountant were escorted through to the holding cells. After all, the young man being defended by his mother had seen fit to vandalize Willow’s house on the mistaken belief she would get him into trouble. Between that and the blackmail on Hilary, if anyone seemed more than capable of evading a murder charge, it was Barrett.
Willow hoped for the boy’s sake that Sheriff Wender was as good as his word and arranged for entry into the trade programs he’d talked about. The amount of intelligence it had required to keep all the various balls in the air for the duration of the investigation proved that Barrett had a good head on his shoulders. His intelligence just needed to be directed toward healthier activities.
“I’m so glad you’re out of there,” Willow said, nodding across to Gary Riley. He was the one who’d taken the brunt of the murderers’ misdirection, and she was glad to see he’d weathered his short stay in the slammer with calm equanimity.
“It might sound strange,” Gary said as he accompanied Willow and Charley out of the station, “but it was nice to just have the chance to think quiet thoughts and sleep.”
“If I were locked up, all I’d be thinking about would be how on Earth to get out of there,” Charley said with a grin. “Give me three days of that, and I’d be a nervous wreck.”
Gary laughed. “I was a nervous wreck before I went in there, so I had the advantage over you.” He ran a hand over his face. “Still, it’ll be nice to go back home.”
They parted ways, and Charley insisted on walking Willow all the way to her door. “I’ll leave you alone to finish out your first working week,” he said with a light kiss on her cheek. “But come Friday night, I’ll pop over with a surprise.”
As Willow told Mavis all about the events of the evening, she couldn’t keep her mind from dwelling on what that surprise might be.
Chapter Thirteen
“As nice as it is to have someone else make me a cup of tea,” Willow said as she accepted the mug that Charley handed to her. “I must admit I thought there might be something else to your surprise.”
“The
cup of tea is just a cuppa,” Charley said with a grin. “I still have a surprise up my sleeve, but you’ll have to wait for a minute in here while I see if I can get it all rigged up.”
“Goodness,” Willow exclaimed. “Now you’re making me quite excited. Any present that requires forethought and rigging is definitely something worth waiting for.”
“Well, on the other hand, I wouldn’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Willow propped her feet up on a cushion, letting them have a break from a week’s worth of being on them for a good eight hours every day. “I’ll keep my hopes nice and low as per usual, then.”
“That’s the secret to a happy life,” Charley agreed.
Although Willow didn’t look, it sounded like he was fiddling about behind her TV. No matter how much she adored the man, if he messed up her television, then he’d have a hard row to hoe to get back into her good graces.
“How were your first week’s takings?” As Charley walked into the room, he had an easy smile on his face. “Are you going to keep at this malarkey with the tea room, or settle for a quiet life of retirement?”
“I think I’ll keep going for the time being,” Willow said with a smile. She wouldn’t know how well the shop had done for its first week’s operation until the accountant sorted out the expenses from the income. If she had to do that for herself, then her head would probably explode. “So long as I can afford to pay the waitresses with enough left over to keep the business looking good, then I’m happy. I didn’t get into this to make my fortune.”
“Ah, it’s those low expectations again. I see they’re working out nicely for you.”
Willow swallowed the last few sips of her tea and handed back her empty cup. “Now, are you going to show me your other surprise?”
“Come through,” Charley said, taking her hand as Willow shifted her sore feet onto the floor again. Despite their complaints, she stood up and followed him through into the lounge. “Now, a little bird told me that when you had a bit of trouble earlier in the week, it might have been after missing your favorite telly program.”
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 25