Killer Spring Fling

by Mollie Bryan

  Though Viv had to admit, their standoffishness touched a nerve. She was never Miss Popular, even in high school. She stuck to herself, having only a few close friends. And they were oddballs, just like her. She couldn’t have made it through without them, though. A winsome pang moved through her. She needed to check on her old friends soon.

  Chapter 10

  Back at the B & B, Aunt Libby was placing the last touches on the cake. She’d been to culinary school and was a pastry chef by trade. Her cakes were spectacular. This one celebrated spring.

  She iced the cake with a delicate, slightly pink, off white. A splay of pink roses in a bed of lilies of the valley sat on the top tier. The flowers draped down to the next tiers in a delicate stream. The Blue Topsy flowers pressed into and all around the bottom cake, adding a splash of color and authenticity.

  Viv sighed. “So lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Aunt Libby beamed.

  “I can’t wait to eat it.”

  “Which flavor will you try? The top tier is a ginger cake. The middle one is almond. And the bottom is chocolate-almond.”

  Viv’s stomach growled. She laughed. “I might try a bit of each.”

  “If you’re ready for lunch, there’s stuff for sandwiches in the fridge,” Aunt Libby said, grinning.

  “I guess I am.” Viv opened the fridge and took out cheddar cheese and mustard. Cheese and mustard on rye bread was one of her favorites.

  As she fixed her sandwich, she recapped her morning. It thrilled Aunt Libby to learn Viv would starting working at Mourning Arts again.. She wasn’t so thrilled to learn about the two girls playing the game.

  “I don’t understand. Is the game like a puzzle?”

  “In a way. When they solve one part, they go onto the next level until they solve everything. They collect objects. Then players go on the dark web and off-line. I’m not sure what happens after that. But here’s the thing, the objects in the game are the same objects around Eliza’s body when I found her. ”

  Aunt Libby’s chin lifted, gazing up from icing the cake. “That’s unsettling. What does it mean?

  “Might have been part of the game.”

  “So...” Aunt Libby iced the last slab of the cake “Are you suggesting the game caused her death? That she met her killer through it?” Her voice cracked.

  Viv bit into her sandwich and chewed, swallowed. “It seems too coincidental that she’d have those objects around her if there’s no link.” Was there some meaning beching the object? Or were they just collected trinkets for the game?

  Aunt Libby dropped the knife into the sink. “What sick mess of a person takes the time to arrange objects around his victim?”

  “Good question.” Viv stood eating her sandwich, mulling it over. She’d seen nothing resembling this strange hodge-podge of a game in her many years in gaming. Sure, the community held some strange folks, but it all came down to the game for them. They were into computer games, technology—not off-line treasure hunts. Odd. Maybe she should try to find the creator of the game and give him or her a call. Not that she expected them to know anything about this case, but it might give Viv insight into who its players are.

  “I hate thinking about the murder and what Eliza’s family is going through. It’s all so terrible.” Libby sighed. “Let’s think about happy things, shall we? Like cake. I love the smell of newly iced cake.”

  “Cake,” Viv said and grinned. “What’s not to love.” She high-fived her aunt.

  “We’ll carry it out to the conservatory first thing in the morning. It will be fine until after the promenade.”

  “Okay. Will other businesses offer cake?”

  “I’m not sure. I know a few offer cupcakes and cookies. I’m not sure about cake.”

  Even though this was Viv’s first Spring Fling, she figured the promenade thing was not her jam. But cake definitely could be. She imagined the dress, so uncomfortable, but she was trying to take it in stride. For her aunt.

  Aunt Libby sat at the table, once again deflated, the cake apparently not a good enough distraction. “I’m trying to keep it together for this event. But I’m so concerned for Sadie. I’m afraid she’s not handling the death of her granddaughter well.... But then again, who would? How to handle such a thing? Such a devastation?” Her bottom lip quivered.

  The two of them sat in the kitchen, surrounded by cake, doilies, and flowers, each in her own thoughts. Viv’s brain kicked into game mode. She was certain the key to this murder was lying in the game. Eliza’s family wouldn’t ever completely heal, but maybe Viv could help find justice, which might help in some small way.

  Aunt Libby leaned across the table. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’ll play the game and see where it takes me.”

  “The game?”

  “Yeah, sure. It’s not that complex. I’m also thinking of contacting the designer of the game just to have a chat.”

  “Oh, do be careful, dear.” Aunt Libby paused. “But I think you’re right—so do the police, evidently. Eliza was involved in something to do with that game, and it went wrong. Terribly wrong.”

  Viv shivered. She knew the gaming community, and it was full of intelligent, artistic, geeky, fabulous people. But there was an element into darker, more violent games. Every once in a while, she heard of an arrest. Or worse, a suicide. Sometimes murder.

  “Do you want to play, too?”

  Libby straightened. “No, dear, you know how I feel about the computer.”

  Part of the reason Viv came to help was to drag her aunt into modern times. She’d been doing the bookkeeping by hand.

  “But I’m so glad you don’t,” Libby went on. “I love the website you’ve created for me, as well as the blog you’re doing. They’re getting attention, which all businesses can use.”

  Viv beamed. Eventually, she’d have her aunt doing it herself. She was astute and modern in every other sense of the word. But the computer thing? Viv just couldn’t get over Libby’s reluctance. “I’m glad I can help.”

  After wandering off to her room, Viv cracked open her laptop. She’d gone through the game at a rapid pace for the police officer, but she wanted to slow down and check it out. Time for some serious game playing. After downloading the app, she clicked on Victorian Grimoire and watched the styled graphics appear on the screen. This computer game is about Victorian things. Huh. A mixing of the old and the new. Someone had an interesting sensibility.

  “Welcome to the Faerie Garden.” The words appeared on the screen.

  “Thorn, ash, and oak are their favorite trees,

  So perhaps you could circle the bough with these.”

  Her fingers moved over the keyboard as she moved through the game.

  “Some foxglove for thimbles, some thyme for a tea,

  Bluebells for their magic, and logs for a seat.”

  She clicked along, yes the game was beautifully rendered, but it was not challenging at all for her.

  Viv moved from the fairy garden to the next level, the crystal garden, where instead of decorating the garden the player was tasked with gathering crystals for the garden. Once again, not a challenge for Viv. Gaming 101.

  A chill crept up her spine when she realized the crystals were the exact bunch of crystals next to Eliza’s body on the grass. Rose quartz. Amethyst. Peridot.

  Viv finished and moved on to the next level. Book of potions. Then the next level: Communicating with the Dearly Departed. A Victorian hand mirror, much like the one Eliza had, was labeled a scrying mirror. “Look into the mirror and see your loved ones.”

  What a load of B.S.

  Viv clicked further into the game—as far as she could take it without launching the dark web.

  She mulled over the game and the local population. She saw the lure for them, surrounded with fancy Victorian things. This game focused on the other side of Victoriana, appealing to bored youth in a quaint historic town. Which was a brilliant move of the game designer’s part.

  Click, cli
ck, click. There was the name of the company: Stained Tea Cup Productions. She clicked on the website and sure enough, the company was local. Which didn’t surprise Viv. It was as if the designer knew the teen population of a small historic Victorian town. And knew them quite well.

  Chapter 11

  So, if Viv called the game designer, what was she going to say? “I think your game has something to do with the murder of Eliza Hartwell.” Not cool.

  Nah, she’d approach it differently.

  “Stained Tea Cup Productions,” the male voice on the other end of the phone said.

  “Hi, I’m new in town, and I’m a game designer. I was wondering if I could pick your brain about Bella’s Victorian Grimoire. Brilliant concept, by the way.”

  “Thanks, and I’m happy to answer any questions you have, but I’m busy right now getting ready for the Fling.”

  “Can we talk after?”

  “Certainly,” he said. “Call me after the Fling.” He clicked off. Didn’t even say goodbye.

  Funny. What kind of activity would they be doing for the Fling? Or was he helping someone else out? Most of the Fling businesses were the touristy ones—not game designers, tech companies, or anything like that. Interesting.

  Next call: old friend, college room mate, and coconspirator, Willa, the dark web expert

  After they exchanged greetings, Viv gave Willa the web address of the game, and before she knew it, Willa was on the dark web, playing the game at the next level.

  “Okay, this is cool,” she said. “This gamer wants kids to get out from behind the screen to do a treasure hunt. They collect trinkets and then...”

  “Then...what?”

  “Perform a ritual in a graveyard? That’s messed up.”

  “Yeah. Can you copy and paste the instructions and send it to me?” Viv said and then explained what had happened in further detail.

  “So, this is creeping me out,” she said, her voice hushed. “How awful.” She paused. “When are you coming back to Pennsylvania?”

  “I don’t know. My aunt needs me here. I’m thinking of freelancing some of my game ideas.”

  “Oh cool. I’ll keep that in mind if I hear anything.”

  Viv’s heart jumped in excitement. Willa had so many good connections. Maybe she could help her get work. “Fabulous.”

  After they clicked off, Viv checked her email. Sure enough, Willa had emailed her.

  But a knocking at her door interrupted her thoughts. “Viv, dear, I need a hand.”

  She snapped her computer shut and opened her door. “What is it?”

  “Please help me count everything to make sure we have enough.”

  “Aunt Libby, we did that yesterday. I’m sure you’ll have more than enough of everything.” Viv wrung her hands. Aunt Libby’s anxiety was taking over. Best to just go along with it. “Okay, it can’t hurt to count everything and go over the checklists one more time, if it will make you feel better.”

  She nodded. “Yes, I think it would.” They walked downstairs together. “We have a reputation, you see. People look forward to coming here and seeing the place, relaxing, and eating something delicious.”

  They counted the scones, tea cakes, and gift bags, then gazed at the cake with a stack of plates next to it.

  “I think you’re set,” Viv said. “The flowers look awesome, too.” They placed sprays of wildflowers through the conservatory.

  “I think so, too. We just get a good night’s sleep and squeeze ourselves into those dresses in the morning.”

  Viv dreaded that and rolled her eyes. “Only for you would I wear yellow, Aunt Libby.”

  She laughed. “I know, dear. Thank you. It won’t be so bad. I promise.” She motioned for Viv to follow her out of the conservatory. “I’m more tired than I usually am this time of day. I’m not planning to make supper. There are leftovers and you can help yourself.”

  Viv took in her aunt. The creases in the corner of her bright blue eyes were deeper. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve just been working hard, you know, plus there’s this murder business.”

  “Right.” Eliza’s face flashed in her mind’s eye. A sudden compulsion overcame her to find justice for her.

  “I just keep thinking there’s a killer in Victoria Town and it could be someone we know. I mean, anybody.” She shuddered.

  “I know it’s hard, but let’s try not to think about that,” Viv said. “It will drive us crazy.”

  “I don’t know how to stop these thoughts...of impending danger. A killer creeping around Victoria Town preying on young women.”

  “Just because he killed Eliza doesn’t mean he’s out to kill other people. It may have been something personal, right?”

  “Still. I can’t shake the feeling that whoever did it has become unhinged...and will kill again.”

  Viv squinted. “Aunt Libby, do you know something you’re not sharing?”

  “Heavens no!” Her mouth formed a line. “Let me take that back. I know plenty I’m not sharing, just not about the murder.” She laughed and exited the room.

  Chapter 12

  Viv stared at her reflection. No. She didn’t recognize herself. There she stood in a yellow Victorian dress, complete with, beads, bustle, and lace. Cascading tiers of lace and beads—and a bustier that was giving her...quite a boost. As she placed the hat on her head, she felt as if she’d donned a uniform and was going off to a strange kind of war.

  Aunt Libby came up behind her. “It’s not that bad, is it?” She stepped back and took her in. “You look smashing. You’re a beautiful girl. Why hide it?”

  Was she? She’d never thought of herself that way. She was certain her aunt was trying to make her feel better. Her eyes were too large and her nose was too big, and her cheeks too round, even though she was thin. Maybe too thin? Viv comfort herself by telling herself she didn’t care about these things and concentrated on other stuff—like books, computers, games. She’d rather not focus on losing the beauty battle.

  “Thank you, Aunt Libby.” Viv fiddled with the hat.

  “It looks fine,” she said. “Now let’s go. We are all gathering at the church to line up for the morning promenade.”

  Aunt Libby wore a lilac silk dress, trimmed in lace. The bodice gave her a slimmer-looking waste, and the color brought out her blue eyes. As she walked, her skirts made a swishing noise that must have been a daily sound back in the day.

  The two of them scurried off to the church, where the formation was beginning. Viv picked up her basket of rose petals, which she’d strew along the path as they walked. Or so she was told. Seemed like a waste of good rose petals to Viv.

  “So the idea is, as we walk along, the audience will look at us in our Victorian regalia. Makes a lot of eye contact, smile, and wave. That kind of thing,” Hilary Burman said. She was in charge of the promenade this year. The business owners took turns leading each year. She gazed out a window. “We’ve got quite a crowd gathering.”

  Viv peeked out the window, and her chest burned. Crowd was the word. How did she let herself be talked into this? A wave of heat started at her head and moved throughout her body. All of those people.

  She turned to find Libby, who was busy fussing over someone’s dress hem. Viv drew in air, wanting to run. She fought the impulse. She’d promised Aunt Libby she’d do this. But the hordes of people made her grip her dress, as if she were fighting for her life.

  She spotted an empty chair against the wall of the church, headed for it, sat, and took in the scene. About twenty women and men gathered in this church hall, all in Victorian dress. They helped each other with their outfits, and discussed the weather and the promenade. If she didn’t know any better, Viv would think it was 1875. SAny of these people could’ve killed Eliza. he blinked and opened her eyes to other scenes of other Victorians scattering around the room. Where did they come from? She sat forward and watched one young woman glide around the room studying the promenaders. Who was she?

/>   Viv blinked again, and they vanished. Except for the promenaders. Had she just seen ghosts? Or was she dreaming? Did she fall asleep?

  “Vivian, you’re next in line,” Aunt Libby’s voice rang out.

  How long had she been sitting there? Viv stood and walked over to her spot.

  “Are you okay? You’re looking pale.” Aunt Libby inspected her.

  “I’m a little nervous. There’s a vast crowd out there.” Her heart raced. And I think I’m losing my mind.

  “I’ll be right beside you, dear. You’ll be fine.”

  A hush came over the room as music began playing. There was the cue.

  The church doors swung open, and they filed out. The cool air was welcome on Viv’s heated skin.

  It amused Viv to find many of the onlookers dressed in Victorian clothing. Her eyes scanned the crowd of tourists gaping at her and the other promenaders. Waving. Smiling. If she’d still be here next year, she’d have to get out of this exercise. She didn’t like it, not one bit. She hated how it made her feel, as if she were on display.

  She continued to look at the crowd as she walked the cobblestone street, arm in arm with her aunt. In a sea of faces, one stood out. A man. How did she know him? She didn’t know many people in Victoria Town. But he looked very familiar.

  While she walked toward the B & B, waving, his face nagged at her. How did she know him? Just as she and Libby arrived at the B & B and peeled away from the promenade, it came to her. He was the man in the cemetery who had helped her. The police were looking for him.

  “I’ll be right back,” she whispered to her aunt.

  “What? Where are you going?”

  “Just trust me. I’ll be back.”

  “Not a part of the program!” Viv heard Libby says as she took off toward the crowd.

  She pushed her way through to where she’d seen him. But he was gone. Disappointed, she headed home. As she walked along, she spotted him again. He was walking with a young woman.

  “Excuse me,” she said to him.