A slight shock escaped my lips when the door budged. I leaned in and peered around the corner to where I'd seen the shadow. The silhouette of a woman hovered near a table, but it was too dark to make out her costume. Was that who'd just left the main room? I checked my watch. Only four minutes before Ursula's stalker revealed himself or herself. I should've gone back to see who wore a white costume at the donations table but needed to verify if Francesca had snuck back here.
I carefully stepped on the slate tiles ensuring my footsteps were as inaudible as possible. As I approached, I could hear the woman crying and whispering something incomprehensible. When she leaned to the side, a dim light from an outdoor sconce landed on her. Something metallic moved near her hands. Helena, Maggie's sister, had dressed as a French maid in a short black and white lacy uniform. While she'd obeyed her sister's instructions to cover up most of her body, fishnet stockings and a see-through netted top were not what Maggie had imagined a server wearing at an upscale party.
When I stepped backward, I slipped on a slate tile and my new Cole Haan dress shoes made a loud scraping noise. I hoped I hadn't scuffed them too much. Helena turned toward me. “Who's there?”
“It's Kellan. I'm sorry, but I've got to find someone. I'll come back to check on you.” I'd turned to walk away, but when Helena jolted upright, I could see she wasn't alone. Behind her, someone possibly unconscious was sprawled on the ground. Near Helena's feet was the sharp object that had been glistening from the light shining from the wall sconce. “Wait, what's going on?” I asked hesitantly before startling when a distant clock began to chime loudly. Was it already nine o'clock?
“You've got to help, I think he's dead. I can't find a pulse,” Helena cried. When she moved to the side, I realized the shiny object was a knife. Covered in what looked to be a red, sticky substance.
I rushed over and gasped once the entire picture came into view. Whoever was lying on the ground had been stabbed and bled all over the slate tiles. “Who is it?” I whispered while comforting Helena, but she didn't respond. Instead, she fell into my arms and sobbed with a great force. I looked more closely at the victim and realized it was a guest who'd dressed as Dr. Evil from the Austin Powers flicks. Based on the amount of blood on his abdomen, I needed to call 9-1-1. Sheriff Montague wasn't going to be pleased that I'd found another dead body.
Chapter 4
I studied my immediate surroundings in search of the best path to avoid further disturbance to the crime scene. Judging by the amount of blood and the knife lying near my feet, this was not an accidental death. I nudged Helena to the side of the courtyard nearest the wall sconce, where a raised garden bed offered a place for her to temporarily relax. “Just sit tight, Helena. Everything will be okay,” I murmured almost incoherently.
Several thoughts clouded my judgment at that frightening moment. Did Helena stab the man? Was she drunk or on drugs? Was this the man in white who'd been stalking Ursula? Although Dr. Evil's traditional garb was more of a light gray, it could pass for white in a dim light. I knew I needed to call the paramedics, but I didn't want to turn the entire party into massive chaos. As I carefully walked toward the body, I heard the door to the courtyard click. It was then I realized if Helena didn't stab Dr. Evil, could the assailant be hiding in the darkness somewhere nearby? If so, was the perp coming or going?
“Kellan, I can see a shadow approaching you!” Helena shrieked.
I turned to my left as someone grabbed my arm. I immediately jerked my elbow directly at what I guessed was a man's shoulder. If I could knock him over, I might get the advantage to pin him down.
“Kellan, what the heck are you doing? It's Connor,” a deep voice with a Caribbean accent shouted. He swiftly wrenched my arm behind my back and yanked me several steps toward the door. “Stand down, dude.” His choice of Dumbledore was fitting for the costume extravaganza, and I particularly enjoyed seeing what Connor might look like in forty years. A long, gray mane and beard flowed seamlessly together and landed on what I could only describe as a woman's caftan. While Connor was exceptionally well-built, his blue and white starred garment was a loose mess. The wand sticking out of his pocket was a humorous touch, but it'd do us no good right now.
“Connor,” I said, tensing as he set me free from his impossibly firm grip. “Someone's been hurt.”
“I followed you. Too many people were coming in and out of those double doors. What's going on?” His concern made sense because one of his responsibilities as Braxton's director of security was to check out anything suspicious.
After I explained what I'd stumbled upon, Connor instructed me to keep an eye on Helena while he contacted Sheriff Montague. I walked the outer perimeter of the courtyard, a forty-by-forty-foot space enclosed on all sides with only the one entry point. My phone provided enough light to ensure I didn't trip over anything, but I couldn't be sure someone wasn't crawling beneath a bush or under a table. As I reached Helena, Connor scanned the courtyard for any secluded place where someone could be hiding. Once he hung up with the sheriff, Connor checked the victim to locate a pulse or sense any sign of breathing.
“Connor is getting help, Helena. Are you able to tell me what happened?” I asked, pushing away a trace of guilt for not waiting until the cops showed up to lead the investigation. I held her hand and listened to her practice a yoga technique to control her breathing and relax her body.
“I found him like that. I… I'd come outside for a second, and when I saw him lying on the ground, I bent down to see if he'd fallen,” Helena cried. She wiped away a tear as it rolled down her cheek and pulled me into a hug. “I didn't know who it was, but I saw him earlier fighting with—”
Connor interrupted Helena's response. “Sheriff Montague is on her way. She's locating Maggie in the main room and will venture back here as soon as she's posted police officers at all the exits. We don't want anyone leaving the library until we know what's going on.”
“Did you see who came back here?” I couldn't be sure if Helena had anything to do with the victim's demise. Had the knife been in her hands or just near them? I hadn't told Connor that part yet.
“It was just too dark to tell from where I stood in the main room. No one's supposed to have access to these private offices, but the door was open when I arrived,” Connor said.
When Sheriff Montague swooped in moments later, Maggie was at her side. The sheriff said, “Good thing I was already near the campus checking on a robbery. Talk to me, Connor. Who's the victim, and what do we know about the woman standing over the body?”
As the sheriff glanced at me, Maggie rushed over to Helena. “What's happened, sis?”
I realized Connor hadn't told the sheriff I'd found the body nor that it was Helena who'd been out here. Was he protecting us or providing enough cover at the time to get the police on site and cordon off the area? The poor guy lying dead on the ground behind me was covered in blood. I'd walked in seconds after it'd potentially happened. Was the killer hiding in one of the offices or restrooms? A shiver ran through my body despite the warm May weather.
“What are you doing here, Little Ayrwick?” the sheriff snarled. We'd, for the briefest of moments, begun calling each other by our first names, but I'd gotten the distinct impression she didn't want me to address her right now as April. “There have been four homicides in the last three months, and you are at the center of them all. Care to explain? Are you a magnet for seedy criminals skulking about in our normally respectable town? Have you unleashed your incendiary ties to the Castigliano mob family upon Wharton County?”
That answered another of my questions. April Montague knew all about my in-laws' shady business transactions. “No comment. All I did was step outside and stumble on a body. Again. I don't want this to keep happening. Never again. Really.”
One of the sheriff's detectives I'd met in the past trudged into the courtyard and began surveying the scene. April introduced him to us and said this was likely to be his last case before he retired to Florid
a, but he was the best she had. “Too bad you picked tonight to work, Gilkrist,” she teased. While he made notes on the surroundings, April asked Helena to share what she knew.
Maggie wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulder and urged her to speak. “Go ahead, Helena. Tell them everything. You can trust Connor and Sheriff Montague.”
Helena explained that she'd gone to the courtyard to sneak a quick smoke break. While she was walking toward the picnic table, she tripped over something. As she bent down to see what it was, she noticed a person or what looked like a person. Helena shook the man, assuming it was someone who'd been drinking too much, fallen, or suffered a heart attack. When she touched the body in search of a wrist or throat, she'd felt something sticky. That's when she realized the person had no pulse. She was about to attempt CPR before I'd walked in. In the confusion, she might have touched the knife when I entered the courtyard.
“Why would you pick up a knife, Miss Roarke?” the sheriff asked with a suspicious glare. The detective approached and indicated the victim was indeed deceased. He'd already called the coroner, who'd be onsite within twenty minutes.
“I… I don't know,” Helena said, her hands shaking with an intense tremor. She'd never looked that scared before. “It was just there. I was trying to find a pulse, and I didn't realize what it was until it was in my hands.”
A few splashes of blood on her palm and fingers were now noticeable. I also saw some on the front of her blouse and skirt. Had the blood been transferred when she was leaning over the body or while she'd been stabbing him? I couldn't believe Helena was capable of murder, even as fiery as I'd seen her get in the past. I looked down and saw a few blotches had also rubbed onto my coat.
Over the next twenty minutes, the sheriff separated Helena and me to unleash her ruthless interrogation techniques. The detective questioned Helena with Maggie present. Connor and Sheriff Montague took me to a nearby office to explain what I'd seen. “I only came back here to use the restroom. It was closer than the public ones on the other side of the main room.”
As I shared the rest of what I could recall, I realized the buzzing in my pocket had been my cell phone. I took a quick peek once Connor and the sheriff scampered away in a private conversation. Ursula had texted and called a few times. Nine o'clock had come and gone, but no one approached her at the donations table. 'Where are you?' she kept asking, then finally telling me she saw Sheriff Montague onsite. 'Did something happen?' was the latest text.
“Ursula Power is demanding to be told what's going on, Sheriff. I think we need to let her back here,” I added as April walked toward me. If the person under the Dr. Evil mask was indeed Ursula's stalker, she couldn't keep her secret any longer.
“Really? And tell me, Little Ayrwick, do you think I should let every member of the general public, like yourself, just wander back here in the middle of a murder investigation? Perhaps we could have a coffee klatch while we play a game of Clue to decide who did it. Let's see… we know it was the knife in the courtyard, but I'm sure not smart enough to figure out whether it was the cook or the butler this time!” April's voice increased with each insult to the point her face reddened to a worrisome shade. Given that I was familiar with her normally prickly personality, I knew, despite appearances, she wouldn't explode on contact.
“Well, no… but… there might be a—” I started to say when Ursula hurried into the office pushing a very frustrated Officer Flatman aside.
“Back off unless you want me to sue you for harassment,” Ursula yelled coming to an abrupt stop at seeing the situation in the office and out in the courtyard. Despite being cloaked in partial darkness, the courtyard was visible from the hallway. “What is the meaning of—”
“I attempted to prevent her from entering, Sheriff. She elbowed me in the chest, and then her wife grabbed my arm and pretended to trip. I tried to stop the woman from falling, and that's when Miss Power busted through the double doors. They're quite a pair of—” Officer Flatman said, upon finally reaching the rest of us.
“Just stand inside the main room and don't let anyone else in, Flatman. You're certainly not showing me any reasons why I'd consider you as the new detective when Gilkrist retires next month,” Sheriff Montague advised in a slightly calmer manner. She narrowed her gaze at Ursula. “You're lucky I don't arrest you for assaulting an officer.”
“That officer knocked over my wife with excessive force when I accidentally bumped into him on the way to chat with Mayor Grosvalet. You're lucky I don't inform the mayor I plan to sue you for police brutality. Let's get to the point here rather than decide which woman in this room has more power, Sheriff,” Ursula countered with her head cocked to the side and her chin jutted out.
In a battle between Ursula and April, I couldn't be certain who'd win. While Ursula's past clearly revealed she was capable of standing her ground, April's knowledge of martial arts and wrestling—not to mention the stun gun and Old Betsy, her actual gun full of bullets currently attached to her hip—could clearly stop my boss in her tracks. “I attempted to warn you Ursula was determined to get back here, Sheriff Montague.” I tried as hard as I could to keep the growing sneer off my lips, but I was powerless for the moment. She undoubtedly saw through my inability to keep a straight face.
The sheriff cleared her throat. “Enough. Since you're the president of this college, I'd need to share this news with you anyway. We're investigating a possible homicide. Keep that to yourself for the time being. A man wearing a Dr. Evil mask in a light gray or off-white suit appears to have been stabbed with a knife. A young lady working the event was caught standing over him. She's being questioned right now. Kellan Ayrwick, one of your…” she said tilting her gaze in my direction, “esteemed professors… happened to be the individual who observed the young lady stepping away from the victim with the probable murder weapon.”
“Who is it?” Ursula asked, then turned to me. “Kellan?”
I lifted my shoulders. “I'm not entirely sure, but I find the white costume certainly strange. I suppose we need to wait for the cops to remove the mask.” I emphasized the color of the Dr. Evil suit hoping Ursula would connect it to her stalker's latest messages. Judging by her partial nod, she did.
“I am sorry such a tragedy has happened. Braxton will certainly cooperate with the Wharton County Sheriff's Office. I will ask, Sheriff, how do you want to handle the ongoing party in the main room? We're about to wrap up soon, but I assume you'll need to speak with everyone at some point,” Ursula noted in an authoritative yet understanding tone.
“My team has been monitoring the doors. We will need a list of every attendee or employee working at the event. I'll need to schedule interviews with everyone, but more importantly, I need to secure this crime scene,” April instructed.
As the sheriff's team commandeered the courtyard and private office space, Maggie was released to announce that there'd been an unexpected death in the library. She was told not to say anything about it being a murder nor what the victim was wearing until the sheriff's office could contact the next of kin. While Connor stayed with Helena in one office, the sheriff spoke with the coroner and Detective Gilkrist in the courtyard.
“You have to tell them about the notes, Ursula. I have no idea if Helena saw anyone else. She mentioned whoever's wearing the Dr. Evil costume had fought with someone earlier tonight, but we were interrupted, and I was escorted out of the room shortly afterward.” I didn't want to tell my boss what to do, but there was no other way to ensure we weren't accused of hiding anything.
“I need to see who's under that mask. If it's someone I know, I'll explain about the notes. If it's not, maybe the victim has nothing to do with me,” Ursula demanded with renewed vigor and determination. It was clear her mind couldn't be changed.
“Fine. I'll ask if they'll let us see the victim's face,” I noted while walking toward the sheriff and the coroner.
“Do not come any closer,” April indicated with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. “We'
re about to remove the mask now that we have enough pictures and preliminary notes on how the body was found. The mask isn't connected to anything else. Lifting it won't interfere with the crime scene.”
I tried not to stare, but I wanted to learn as much as I could about the victim in case it might help Ursula discover his identity. Although the man wore a full suit, his hands were hidden by dull white gloves likely added to match Dr. Evil's pale skin tone. The victim's face was fully covered in a mask, and he was lying on his back. One foot was slanted to the side, and a pool of blood had formed near his waist. It looked like he'd been stabbed in his stomach at least once. I had to look away, so I wouldn't get sick from what I'd observed thus far.
“Perhaps Ursula and I might be able to help identify the victim?” I asked, swallowing deeply to prevent the fig and prosciutto appetizer from projecting out of my throat.
“At this point, we need all the help we can get,” April said as she began to record a video from her cell phone. As she stood near the body, she carefully positioned the camera to monitor the coroner's actions as he cut the elastic band near the victim's ears. Once loosened, he lifted the mask off with one hand while ensuring the man's head didn't shift from the movement.
As the coroner stepped away, I did a double take. I couldn't be certain if the man was Ursula's stalker, but I knew who he was. “I recognize him,” I said in a faint voice.
“Care to share that information with the rest of us?” April said with a smirk.
“I think it's George Braun. I met him yesterday for the first time. The only time. He's teaching a class in the science department and working with Millard Paddington on the upcoming Mendel flower show.” I drew in a deep breath and felt a bit lightheaded.
“Are you certain?”
I nodded. “Although… I only spoke with him for five minutes. We're supposed to have breakfast tomorrow before he starts working at Braxton.” I looked at Ursula who clutched her upper chest and throat. After her loud and unexpected cough, I was certain she recognized the man.
Flower Power Trip Page 5