Murder in the First Edition

by Lauren Elliott

  “No, sir, nothing, not even one print. It’s like no one’s ever set foot in this room.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Marc’s eyes seemed to take in every detail. “Okay, we might as well wrap it up. We won’t find anything.”

  “How can there be nothing?” Serena’s brow creased. “Hundreds, no, thousands of people must have slept in here over the years. What about all those television shows that use some kind of special light to show viewers the hidden yuck and stuff in hotel rooms?”

  Marc ignored her and scribbled in his notepad. He flipped his notebook closed and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. “My suggestion is that both of you go back to minding your own businesses and forget all about this today.” He headed for the door and pierced them with a hard look. “And don’t tell anyone what happened here. I have to go and talk to Bruce. Jerry,” he called, “you know what to do when you leave.” The door thudded closed behind him.

  Jerry packed up his bag. “You heard the chief, go. What are you waiting for?”

  * * *

  Addie peered through the snowflakes settling on the windshield of Serena’s Jeep and spied Jerry as he trudged to his cruiser. He had hung a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob but hadn’t posted crime-scene tape across the door. Why? Was it a secret? Marc had said not to tell anyone about today. What did he know that he didn’t tell them?

  “Do you remember once when you thought your house had been broken into?” Serena turned the heater defrost on high when the vehicle warmed up enough to blow warm air. “But it hadn’t been, and then minutes later Marc got a call saying your shop had been?”

  “Yeah, and then he teased me about being the crazy psychic lady.”

  “Yup, but remember when you said this morning that you thought this whole thing might be bigger than we thought?” Serena backed out of the parking stall. “Well, it looks like you’re right.”

  “Yeah.” Addie took one last look at the hotel. “It sure does.”

  Chapter 15

  Addie collapsed into her foyer. Her nightmarish day was finally over, and she wanted to curl up on the sofa, watch some mindless television with a coffee in hand, and forget all about the madness. Serena was right. This whole thing was bigger than she first thought, and her head felt like it was going to explode trying to fit all the pieces together. But enough was enough for one day.

  Flipping on the foyer light, she tugged off her boots and wiggled her numb toes into her pink fuzzy house slippers. On her way to the kitchen, there were only two things on her mind: coffee and then sweet, mind-numbing oblivion.

  Coffee in hand, she bypassed the wall light switch and the table lamp, snatched the remote from on top of the television, and flipped past documentaries, history shows, and news broadcasts. A Christmas romantic comedy? Perfect. She snuggled into the arm of the sofa and took a sip of coffee. Like magic, the tension seeped from her body. The dimness of the room and soft flickering from the television screen lulled her into a slight doze. Before fully nodding off, she glimpsed a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. She bolted upright and brandished the remote control above her head. “Who’s there?”

  The table lamp switched on.

  She clutched at the crushing pain through her chest. “Jonathan. What . . . how? What are you doing, scaring me like that?” When her heart quit knocking against her rib cage, she pinned her unwelcome guest with a venomous stare.

  “Good evening, Addie.” He folded his hands across his lap. “I didn’t mean to give you such a start. I really would have announced my presence earlier, but I must have dozed off waiting for your return.”

  “Get out.” He made no move to do so. “How did you even get in here? The alarm was still set when I came in.” She struggled to her feet, adrenaline the only force willing her knees to cooperate. “And why are you here . . . like this? You nearly gave me a heart attack. Haven’t you heard of a telephone?”

  “It wasn’t my intent to harm you in any way, and telephones come with”—he arched a sly brow—“some risks, shall we say.”

  “Risks? What about the risk of breaking into a person’s house and scaring them to death?”

  “You’re made of hardier stock than that.” He clucked his tongue. “I’ve seen you in action.”

  His persistent monotone needled her nerves at the base of her spine. “Jeez”—she clasped her head—“this is insane.”

  He paced the room, toying with his hat in his hands. “I only wanted to talk to you away from prying eyes and ears, nothing more.”

  “What could you possibly have to say to me that requires this, this tactic of intrusion?” She hoped her look of hatred would drop him to the floor, but he still paced, very much alive.

  He took a step toward her and his eyes held hers in an unyielding stare. She quickly shuffled backward. A second later, the edge of the coffee table smacked across the back of her knees as her breaths quickened. She stiffened her back and braced her feet.

  His brows bumped together in a scowl. “My dear, it’s not what you think.”

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?” Her fist clenched, ready to pop him one at the slightest move toward her.

  “The fast breathing, signifying a racing heart, the rapid eye movements, the small beads of perspiration on your brow, your stiffened muscles ready to do battle, those are all indications that you’re feeling what a trapped animal does when cornered. How am I doing?”

  Her eyes widened in a gaped-mouth stare.

  “That’s what I thought. Please, sit down, before your knees give away again.” He gestured toward the sofa.

  She obediently followed his lead. If for no other reason than she would hate to prove him right when the only thing keeping her upright was a high dose of adrenaline.

  He took a seat beside her on the sofa and took her hand in his. She pulled away from him, but he didn’t release his hold. “I’m only going to say this once; then we never speak of it again. Do you understand?”

  Addie had never truly known if she’d ever felt hatred for somebody. Her question was answered. She refused to give him a response and returned his gaze with feral intensity.

  He clasped her hand firmer. “I know what happened today at the Grey Gull Inn—” He shook his head when she opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t ask me how, but pursuing Marvin Gibson or any of those suspects you have on that”—his head motioned toward her crime board—“has to stop now for your own safety. What you and your friends are doing is too dangerous. Do I make myself clear?”

  His eyes remained as impassive as ever. “Are you threatening me?” Addie ground out.

  “Not in the least, my dear. I’m just laying the cards on the table for you.”

  “Who are you, Jonathan . . . really?”

  “Just remember, if you go off looking for a problem, you’d better be prepared to deal with the solution.”

  She recoiled and pulled her hand away.

  “Just stay as far away from all this as you can, for your own sake.” He stood up, kissed the top of her head, and shuffled toward the door, pausing. “I almost forgot, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow for brunch at Catherine’s, won’t I?”

  Her forehead creased, was that tomorrow? It couldn’t be Sunday already, could it? Her eyes never wavered from his, but she gave no sign she’d heard him.

  “I see why my son adored you so. You have spunk.” He smiled. “And don’t worry, no security systems were harmed during my entry.” He tipped his hat to her and closed the front door with a gentle click.

  Addie chucked a throw pillow where her almost-father-in-law had stood. Emotions she had shoved into corners finally broke free and ran rampant through her body. Shivering uncontrollably, she tugged the throw from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her, willing her body to relax. Her body soon relented, but her mind spiraled like a crazy kaleidoscope. The murder board! Something on it scared him. So the answer had to be there. She studied the names and notes she’d made, closed her eyes
to try to see the bigger picture, but it was no use. None of it made sense. Maybe Jonathan and Marc and Simon were right. This was too big for her to handle. Jonathan’s name, black and thick against the paper, seemed to taunt her.

  What was he so afraid of her discovering that he’d break into her house just to warn her to back off? No, there was no way she was quitting now. She grabbed a pen from the table and began to scribble notes beside the name of her number-one suspect. There was something here he didn’t want her to find, and she’d make sure she found it before it found her.

  Chapter 16

  Addie’s foot skated off the bottom porch step. The two travel mugs she clasped in her hands quivered wildly in the air. “Simon, grab the hot chocolate.” He skidded around the hood of Carolyn’s pickup and seized the mugs from her hands as she stumbled over a snowdrift at the bottom.

  “Whoa.” He propelled his body in front of hers.

  She thudded against his chest and struggled to regain her footing.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me?” He shook dripping liquid from his gloves. “I was on my way up to get you.”

  “Where would the adventure be in that?” She laughed and snatched a mug from his hand and knocked back a mouthful. “Ah, there’s nothing like adding a shot of chocolate to a morning rush of adrenaline.” She wiped a frothy chocolate moustache from her upper lip and grinned up at him. “Thank you for saving me from a face-plant into the snow.”

  “In hindsight”—he rubbed his chest, grinning—“I think I should have let you fall.”

  “Yeah, you would have loved that, seeing me kiss a snowbank.” She jeered and hiked herself up into the passenger seat. “Remind me to buy some ice melt today.”

  He climbed into his seat and sipped from his mug. “The least I can do for the hot chocolate. Thanks.”

  “I thought we’d need it to get into the spirit for this pre-Christmas brunch.” She buckled up her seat belt. The truck tossed from side to side on the uneven ruts up the driveway. Addie gripped the dash and held on for her life as Simon pulled hard on the steering wheel and bounced over a deep furrow at the top onto the road. “Are the main streets this bad?”

  “Not once we get down the hill, but as you can see the plows haven’t made it all the way up here yet. Hang on.” They lurched forward. Addie hissed out a breath. Simon sniggered and patted her hand. “Don’t worry, they get better farther down. I promise.”

  “I’ll try to take your word for it.” She glanced out the side window at the roof-high snowbanks and shivered, exhaling. “Look at this. It’s so freaking cold I can see my breath in here. Is the heater even working?”

  “Yes, it is,” he choked, stifling a laugh. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Simon turned onto the main road at the bottom of the hill. “If not, tell me now, and we can turn around and go back.”

  “No, we have to go,” she grumbled, swiping at her breath clouds. “I need some answers.”

  “And you think you’re going to find them over brunch?”

  “I don’t know, maybe.” Her lips tightened. “Do you think I’m crazy for pursuing this whole missing book thing and suggesting that Teresa might have been killed because of it?”

  “Crazy, no, but determined to solve a mystery? An emphatic yes. You seem to attract them and have no willpower to resist their enigmatic lure.” He reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. “Why all the self-doubt? That’s unusual for you.”

  She relayed the tale of her visitor the evening before. Simon listened attentively, and when she finished, silence filled the pickup. The only thing moving was Simon’s chest, which expanded with hard breaths.

  “Are you okay?” Addie ran a finger up and down his coat sleeve.

  “I’m fine.”

  “That’s what women say.” When he didn’t raise his brows at her humor, she scooted as close as her seat belt would allow. “Your face doesn’t tell me you’re fine.”

  He blew out a noisy breath. “No, really, it sounds like you handled yourself like a pro, better than I would have. I think I’d have taken a swing at him or worse.”

  “It’s not that I didn’t think about it but—”

  “But what? He broke into your house.”

  “I know, but he’s David’s father.”

  “So?” His voice rose. “He crossed a line. What did he say when you asked him who he really was?”

  “Nothing, he ignored it.”

  Simon said nothing and fixed his eyes on the road ahead.

  “Any ideas?”

  “Nope, but there is definitely something he’s hiding.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, and why I need to go to this brunch even though he’s the last person I want to see today.”

  “I hate to keep echoing these words, but be careful. He sounds like a professional. The way he got into your house? You never know what else he’s capable of.” He parked behind Serena’s Jeep. His hands didn’t drop from the steering wheel, instead they constricted around the leather, strangling the surface.

  “Simon?” Addie unbuckled and slid over to him, her thigh touching his. She unwrapped his hands from the steering wheel and held them in her hands. When he refused to meet her gaze, she called his name. “Simon? I’m fine. Nothing happened last night. What we need to figure out is, what’s his angle, and what exactly he’s a professional at. I can’t do this without you.”

  A smile flickered across his face, and he brought her hands up to his lips. “I am honored to be your trusty sidekick. Now, let’s go eat.”

  Catherine opened the door. Her face lit up at the sight of the two of them. Christmas music, laughter, and the smell of fresh gingerbread emanated from inside the house and melted any qualms Addie had about attending the festive occasion. Her friends were not Jonathan, as he was certainly not her friend. She would not and could not take her animosity for one person out on the rest of them. The welcoming scents and decorations took her back to Christmases past, but she flinched at the glimpse of her Christmas present. There stood Jonathan, with a mug in hand, and a smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Without acknowledgment of his presence Addie made a wide berth around him and carried on into the living room.

  Catherine introduced her and Simon to her sister, Joyce Walker, who was visiting from Long Island for the holidays; her husband, Jack; and their teenage daughter, Adel, who fleetingly raised her eyes up from her cell phone to wave. Catherine pointed out Jack was a physician, and Simon gravitated to his side. The two quickly became immersed in conversation.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” Addie smiled, shaking Joyce’s outstretched hand. “Did you have any travel troubles?”

  “We got lucky and came through just as they were closing the highway’s north.”

  “It was touch and go for the last hundred miles, but we made it,” Jack chuckled from his perch on the sofa, “but if it stays like this, we may be stuck here until spring. Got a job for an old doc at that hospital of yours?” He slapped Simon’s shoulder.

  Serena and Zach emerged from the kitchen, Zach bearing two steaming mugs of spiced punch. He handed one to her and one to Simon, and joined him and Jack on the couch. Addie’s skin pricked under Jonathan’s unrelenting gaze. Needing escape, she followed Catherine into the kitchen.

  “Addie, this is Crystal Parker.” Catherine gestured toward the young woman sneaking an hors d’oeuvre from a platter. “We met through my volunteer work at the hospital when she moved here last year.”

  “We’ve met.” Addie stepped forward, her hand outstretched. “Nice to see you again, Crystal.”

  “Nice to see you, too.” She smiled and shook Addie’s hand.

  “When I mentioned to Jonathan that her Caribbean holiday plans were changed due to the weather, he suggested I invite her to join us today.”

  “Jonathan suggested it?” Addie pasted a smile on her face.

  “Yes, he has such a big heart and hates to see anyone on their own for the holidays, and I agree
d.”

  “I’m glad you could join us.” Addie’s throat tightened. Big heart, my foot. She remembered a few years that Jonathan couldn’t even bother to call David over the holidays, let alone drop in for one of his flyby visits.

  “I didn’t know that you and Catherine were friends,” Crystal said, picking up a covered buffet pan from the counter. “Typical of small towns, though, isn’t it?” She shrugged. “I guess everyone knows everyone.”

  “Yeah, and you can’t keep too many secrets, either, if you haven’t noticed by now.” Addie noted the lack of eye contact from the young woman as she took the serving dish from her. “Do you want this taken into the dining room now, Catherine?”

  “Yes, and I think that’s it. We’re ready to eat. Serena and Zach appear to have taken everything else in. Oh, the appetizers?” She eyed the platter, down by one tasty tidbit. “Could you bring it out with you? I’ll round up the rest, and we can start.” She swept out of the kitchen, leaving Addie alone with the petite redhead.

  “So, if you’ve only been in town a year, where are you from originally?” Addie reached around the young woman and grabbed a serving spoon.

  “The Midwest.”

  “Any part in particular?”

  “No, we moved a lot.”

  “I see. I heard that Patrick was from the Midwest. He moved here last year, too. Did you know each other before you came here?”

  Crystal’s shoulders stiffened. “No.” She stirred the simmering pot of Christmas punch.

  Addie studied the young woman’s back. “Not knowing anyone can make it hard moving to a new place. I’m glad you’ve met Catherine, though. She’s one of the nicest women I’ve met since I moved here not that long ago myself.”

  Crystal took a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured it into a glass pitcher.

  “Have you managed to make many other friends? I know this town can take a while to accept outsiders, but once they do—”

  “Not many.” Crystal sidestepped around her. “We should get these in.” She disappeared with the juice into the dining room. Addie frowned, grabbed the platter, and followed her out.