Dying to be Married: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 2)

by Sarah Kelly

  Cecelia stopped in the doorway and leant against the doorframe. She looked more relaxed that India had ever seen her. “I guess that’s a good thing,” she said in a smooth tone. “What’s your theory so far?”

  “I don’t really have enough information yet,” India said. “There are a lot of missing pieces right now. I wanted to talk to your father to find out more about the threats you all were getting. Do you know anything about them?”

  Cecelia reached into a bag and picked out an evening dress in a gorgeous duck egg blue color. “No, daddy always sheltered us from everything.”

  Figures.

  India thought back. “So, why is Will such a pig, then?”

  Cecelia held the dress up on herself. “Do you like it?”

  Startled by such a question, India took a moment to answer. “Yes, I do. Gorgeous color.” It felt so strange to talk about something so insignificant as eveningwear, when they were discussing her sister’s murder. India couldn’t work out whether Cecelia was devastated, and just trying to cover it up with mundane chatter, or if she really didn’t care about Katriane’s demise. Cecelia had so many walls up it was impossible to tell.

  “Thank you,” Cecelia said. “Well, for one thing, Will Tremblay is a pig because he slept with me.”

  “Wow.”

  Out of nowhere, it seemed, the rain started to pour. That was something India hadn’t quite gotten used to about Florida yet, the sudden showers.

  “Don’t stand there gawping,” Cecelia ordered. “Help me bring these bags inside.”

  India got to it, her mind racing. “When was this?”

  “Oh, way before he met Katriane. He’s in our circle, in a distant way,” she said. “We met at a party with an open bar, and one thing led to another. He pretended all along like he didn’t know me when Katriane started dating him. So he’s a damn liar.”

  India placed the bags on a bench inside the cottage. It had a beautiful interior, decorated in a Caribbean style, with white wooden walls, a dark wood floor, and bright splashes of orange and teal in the décor. “Okay,” she said, trying to piece together if Cecelia’s revelation meant anything to the case.

  “But that’s not the worst thing. At all.”

  “Go on,” India said.

  “I caught him out,” Cecelia said, whipping off her glasses, her eyes now bright. Rain beat down on the roof.

  “Doing what?”

  Cecelia shook her head and pressed her lips together, like she was disgusted. “He was acting all weird in the run up to the wedding, checking his phone every two minutes. So when he was out of the room, I looked. And I found texts from another woman, them going back and forth saying how much they loved each other. Then she was swearing at him, and telling him to go to hell if he wanted to continue with the wedding.”

  “Jeez,” India said, letting out a long breath. She’d have never expected that, by the way Will cared so tenderly for Katriane. “Do you know who it was?”

  “Yep,” Cecelia said, victory plastered all over her face. She crossed her arms in front of her. “His ex wife. And he only just divorced her, days before the wedding. Keeping his options open, I think.”

  “That’s so strange,” India said. “Why is he texting her he loves her, then getting divorced and marrying another woman? Unless…”

  Cecelia sat down on the bed. “What?”

  India began pacing, trying to think through the theory that had just popped into her head. “Unless… he was only marrying Katriane for the money. He still loved his ex, but pretended to have moved on just so he could grab the cash. Then he ordered those two boys to go shoot Katriane, while he was on the beach. So he had an alibi. Now he plans to act the mourning husband, watch the boys get charged, and go back to his ex with a whole lot of money.”

  Cecelia bolted to her feet. “You’ve solved it! Oh my god, you’ve solved it.”

  “No wait, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” India said. She made a quick mental note that Cecelia had been so quick to jump on that theory – maybe she was trying to hide something herself. “I mean, I don’t even know if Katriane had money.”

  “Of course she did,” Cecelia said. “Daddy gave her a few million about a year ago.”

  India’s heart was beating faster. “Now, I don’t want to rush to conclusions,” she said. “It sounds plausible, but there’s no proof. Not really.”

  Cecelia kicked off her high heels. “I knew that pig did it. I knew it. Killed my sister. And to think I slept with him. Ugh.”

  India leant against the doorframe, trying to piece her thoughts together. “You said Will’s not here,” she said. “Do you know where he is?”

  “No, he went out this morning on foot. I passed him in the car. I assume he’s not back because he’s always sitting on the step of the cottage, crying. Crocodile tears, if you ask me. Wants everyone to see how much he’s suffering. Poor Will. Yeah right.”

  “Okay. Do you know if your father’s here?”

  “I saw him before I left this morning,” Cecelia said, “but I’m not sure if he’s still here now.”

  “Oh right. Which color house is he in?”

  “The blue.”

  India smiled. “Well, enjoy your clothes. I’m just going to see if I can find him now.”

  Cecelia was digging into a designer tote and didn’t even look up. “Ciao.”

  India walked back along the bougainvillea path to the house she’d named Powder Blue, then paused before she stepped before it, feeling nervous. After a second or two, she marched up to the door and knocked on it.

  “Who is it there, please?” Aleister called from inside.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Hooper-Walcott,” India said through the door. “It’s India, the lifeguard.”

  A few moments later he answered the door, towering above her. He looked down at her with a lovely smile, like she was his favorite person in the whole world. It had a deep sadness in it, but a kindness and generosity, too. India couldn’t help but feel touched.

  “I’ll tell you again to call me Aleister,” he said. “Now what can I do for you, Miss India?”

  “I’m so sorry to bother you.”

  “Not at all. I’m glad for the company.” He glanced back into the room. “In fact, why don’t you come in and I can fix you some tea?”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, putting his arm around her. “Everyone in Monroe County knows I’ll never turn anyone away from my door.”

  India smiled. “Thanks, Mr… Aleister.”

  The interior was totally different to that of Cecelia’s. The whole place was painted white, including the cathedral ceiling, and everywhere was decorated with floral prints and ruffles and lace. India looked around, taking it all in.

  “It’s like Old Miss Laura’s South Carolina tearoom in here,” Aleister said with a chuckle, but it then caught in his throat. “Katriane always loved those places, ever since she was a little girl. Loved nothing better than getting a new frilly dress, and wearing a big old hat like her grandmamma. Drinking sweet tea or lemonade with her dollies.”

  “I’m so sorry,” India said.

  He brightened up a little then. “Don’t you worry about old Aleister. You take a seat right there and I’ll fix you some tea.”

  “All right,” India said, sitting down on one of the ruffled cushioned wicker chairs. “But if you decide you need some space, just say the word.”

  “I will,” he replied. “Don’t fret about that.”

  India ran her finger along the lace tablecloth, and thought about the best way to phrase what she wanted to say. “Mr… Aleister, sorry. I… well, I’m looking into this case, because I think I might be able to help. You see, I helped solve a case a couple years back and my dream is to be a private investigator, so… well…” She always found it difficult to feel confident about her abilities when she spoke to other people, even nice, kind souls like Aleister.

  He paused from where he was making the tea, an
d looked into her eyes from across the room. “I think that’s wonderful,” he said. “What an unusual dream for a young woman. Please, do all you can to find these terrible, evil boys. I have no trust in that bumbling police force, I’m afraid.”

  “My boyfriend Xavier’s a cop here, and he’s a great guy. He’ll do all he can to run them down. I know some of the higher ups might not be quite as efficient, or friendly, as you might like.”

  Aleister nodded. “Indeed.”

  “But… Aleister, I’m not entirely sure how to say this, but I think there might be more to it than the simple robbery the police think it is.”

  His eyes seemed to have more life in them for a moment. “So do I.”

  “If it’s all right with you, I’d love to know more about the threats you and your family were receiving,” India said. “When did they start?”

  “Yes, that’s an important point.” Aleister nodded toward a hospitality tray on a side table near India, where packets of tea and coffee and sugar were in a bowl. There were cookies, two to a wrapper, next to them. “Take some cookies, if you’d like.”

  “Thank you,” India said, taking them and beginning to open the wrapper. She really was hungry. She took a bite into a choc chip one. It was like heaven.

  “The threats started around a year ago.” Aleister fussed about in the kitchen as he spoke. He really knew his way around it, which surprised her. She’d assumed he would have hired a housekeeper and nanny to look after his young daughters when their mother had died, while he attended his chicken empire. Perhaps he’d been more hands on. “This was when Katriane was just getting serious with William Tremblay. Perhaps it was a stalker of some kind, was my first thought, and they were so incensed by her seeing someone else.”

  India nodded. “What were the threats exactly, if you don’t mind me asking? Were they on paper?”

  “Some on paper, some via phone. The police back in our hometown have tried to look into it but come up with nothing.”

  India nodded. “Could I see the notes sometime?”

  “Sure,” Aleister said with a smile. “The notes said that Katriane would be killed. That our family would be wiped out forever. That a kidnapping would be carried out within the next few days, or weeks, or months. These dates always passed without incident, so I began taking them less seriously after that.” His expression clouded. “A grave error, indeed.”

  A new idea had popped into India’s head. “I don’t… Aleister, please do not take this seriously, as it is only an idea, and a crazy one at that. Take it with a major pinch of salt.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Did you ever think… that the threats came from Will himself? After all, they did start when he came on the scene.”

  Aleister looked away, but nodded slowly. The kettle started to hum, and he seemed glad to have something to do, as an excuse to avert his eyes as he talked to her. He set about fixing the tea rather slowly. “Of course I did. I will tell you the truth, Miss India, I’ve never trusted that man. Not since the first day I saw him. But since Katriane adored him so much, I did not make a fuss.”

  “What made you not trust him?”

  “I couldn’t say,” Aleister said. “I don’t think it was anything particular. Just a sense that something wasn’t right. Many people say it’s old wives’ tales, but my mother and her mother before her had what they called ‘the gift’. Intuition. I feel I’ve picked some of it up, and that’s helped me make some great business deals, and avoid some real stinkers, in my time. I’ll bet you think me a superstitious old fool now.”

  “No, not at all,” India said quickly, then nibbled absentmindedly on the cookie. “He was telling me how Katriane’s money would be put in their charitable trust for children, and he would continue with its work for the rest of his life.”

  “Cream? Sugar?” Aleister asked.

  “Just one sugar, please.”

  “Yes, I’m also a trustee,” he said. “I suppose William told you about the money that has been going missing from this fund?”

  “No,” India said, sitting up straight. “He didn’t mention that.”

  Aleister raised his eyebrows as he stirred the teacup. “What a surprise.”

  “Wow, so he might put the money in there just to siphon it off to his personal account?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Aleister said. “We only recently noticed the money going missing before we came out here for the wedding. It was traced to an unknown account, going through various dubious channels and then seeming to disappear into thin air. Once we return the accounts will be investigated thoroughly, and I hope it will become clear where the money is going. It might not be him at all.”

  “But it could be?”

  Aleister came to the table and placed her cup of tea down. “It could be.”

  “Thank you, sir.” India took a sip. He certainly made an excellent beverage. “But wouldn’t Katriane have shared her money with him anyway?”

  “Oh dear,” Aleister said, sinking down on the chair opposite her. “I was hoping all of this wouldn’t have to come out. It makes him look guilty, and as much as I dislike the man, I’m not at all sure he was involved.”

  “You were hoping what wouldn’t come out?”

  Aleister sighed, then looked into her eyes again. “You’ll keep this confidential, won’t you, Miss India?”

  “Of course.”

  “Aleister wanted to use the money to start a new business venture, but Katriane was vehemently opposed to it.”

  “Why? What was it?”

  “Marijuana,” Aleister whispered, as if it were a dirty word. “You know, with all the medical marijuana taking off all over the place these days. He told Katriane he wanted a piece of the pie, how it was helping people and he saw a gap in the market he could exploit. My Katriane,” he said, raising his head with pride, “was raised to believe that drugs were wrong. All drugs. And she wouldn’t stand for it. Especially being that she wrote for kids.”

  “So he told her he wanted to use her money for the startup and she refused?”

  Aleister nodded. “Katriane may have looked like a little fairy, but she knew what she wanted. She was determined. Ever since she was a little girl, she had that fighting spirit within her. That’s how she beat the leukemia.”

  “She had leukemia?”

  “Yes,” Aleister said. “When she was three years old. She went into treatment then and was in remission by age four. It never came back.”

  “Wow, I never knew that,” India said. Though Amy’s encyclopedic knowledge of reality stars probably covered it. She paused for a moment. “I know this is terrible to say, but, you don’t think Will could have been sending those threats all along? Then tried to get the money out of Katriane with this business venture. Then, when she refused…”

  Aleister pressed his lips together in a grimace, then sipped his tea. “I don’t know, Miss India. I am loathed to suspect people who could be innocent. I just don’t know.”

  “Me either,” India said. But she felt a sense of urgency deep within her, the kind Luis had taught her not to ignore. She thought of Xavier, and decided to call him to find out how far he and his colleagues had gotten with the investigation. Maybe they’d tracked down the boys. “Is it okay if I go outside for a moment, Aleister?” she asked. “I just have to make a quick call.”

  “Of course you can, my dear.”

  In moment she was pacing the path, phone glued to her ear.

  “Hello?” When Xavier spoke, relief washed over her.

  “Zave, I think I know who it is,” she blurted out, surprising even herself. “I think it’s Will Tremblay.”

  “I know, In,” Xavier said quietly.

  “What? How?”

  “We’ve found him just now. He’s… killed himself, and he’s left a note confessing the whole thing.”

  CHAPTER 6

  India and Xavier sat on the hood of his patrol car, looking out over the sea. The afternoon sun blazed down over the beach,
but in the secluded spot where Will had taken his own life, there were a cluster of coconut trees whose large leaves overhead cast dark shadows across the sand.

  The body had already been removed, and was to be put into storage before the autopsy would be carried out.

  Xavier clutched the suicide note in his gloved hand, and India peered over his shoulder.

  “I must confess,” India read out from the typed letter. “I tried to get away with this, but did not anticipate the effect becoming a murderer would have on me. So I will tell all. Though I became fond of Katriane, I first pursued her because I was enamored with her fortune. I am in love with my ex wife Lucy and only intended to divorce her to get my hands on Katriane’s money.”

  “At a later date, having killed Katriane and inherited,” Xavier continued, “I would return to Lucy. Though I recruited two local young men to fire the final shots, I am at the center of the whole plot. I deeply regret it, but I cannot take it back. Thus I must make my travels to the beyond, the way Katriane has traveled. I cannot live under the weight of this guilt. Goodbye to all.”

  “Goodness,” India said, shaking her head. “Isn’t that something? That’s the first suicide note I’ve ever read.”

  Xavier rubbed the back of his neck, looking distressed. “Me too. First suicide I’ve ever seen, too. He was… hanging.”

  “Horrible,” India said, looking over the sea as it lapped in and out. It was so strange that everything went on as normal, the world continuing in its own rhythm, even when the most tragic things happened. “Just horrible.”

  Xavier sighed, then slipped his fingers in between hers. “You know what’s going to happen now, right?”

  “What?” India said, feeling comforted by the warmth of his hand.

  “The whole of Florida’s going to jump right on this story. Probably the whole of America,” he said. “I’ll have reporters coming out of my ears.”

  She reached out and played with the soft, tiny curls at his hairline. “You’ll handle it well.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes vulnerable. “I hope so.” Then he looked down. “It’s hard, you know, because of what he’s confessed. If they shove a camera in my face, how am I supposed to act? Sad that this murderer guy has died? Or glad? Or business-like? I have no idea.”