The Minstrel and the Masquerade

by Lila K Bell

  Emily left her table, turned around, and halted when she saw us. Her eyes widened and her ponytail swung around her head as she scanned the dining room, no doubt equally concerned about the risk to her job if she was caught slacking.

  “I can’t talk to you,” she said, approaching with quick steps while casting glances over her shoulder. “I got in so much trouble for gabbing the other day. If he catches me again, I’m toast.”

  “I’ll be quick,” I said.

  “Yeah? And are you going to pay my salary if I get fired? I’m saving up for a backpacking trip this summer. If anything happens and I can’t afford to go, I’m going to… sue you.”

  I blinked, genuinely not sure how to respond to that. How had I gone from being Miss Socialite to being threatened with two lawsuits in the course of two days?

  “Look,” Sybil said, stepping forward. She put her hands on her hips and leaned in close. “We wouldn’t be bothering you if you hadn’t lied to us the other day, all right? So if anyone gets fired, it’s because of you. There was a sixth server here the night of the party. There is a bill coming to this woman’s mother. If that sixth server is listed on there as an expense and you know something about it, you are going to get much worse than fired. Fiona can make it happen that you never get another serving job in this city the rest of your life.”

  Did I have that much power? Not in a million, trillion years. But it sounded good, and by the way Emily’s face blanched, she believed it. I didn’t know if Sybil had been practicing in front of a mirror or had picked up a tip or two from Sam, but she’d levelled up since our last chat with this young woman.

  Emily wavered for another moment, and then groaned and glared over my shoulder, no doubt at the kitchen doors in case her manager should come out.

  “What do you want to know?”

  I waited for Sybil to start in on her, but when I looked her way, she was staring back at me. I would have been prepared to let her take over, but she seemed to have exhausted her strong-arm tactics. Though her expression remained hard and threatening, there was a faint tremor in her hands and her breaths were quick.

  “You said the extra server was a woman named Rayna, who came in to replace Jenn, correct?”

  “Sure,” said Emily. “Jenn said she had an appointment in the morning so couldn’t stay late, and she asked Rayna to cover for her.”

  I crossed my arms. We’d already called her out on lying and she thought the best strategy was to stick to her story? What were they teaching kids in school these days? “What time was the switchover due to happen?”

  “Uh,” she said. “I don’t know. Nine? Ten? Whenever those pictures were taken.”

  She shifted on her feet, and I suspected it had less to do with nerves over her boss and more with her growing realization that if she wanted to get out of this conversation she’d have to come up with a better lie.

  Or, you know, the truth.

  Before I had time to challenge her, Sybil dropped one hand to her side, all trace of overwhelm gone.

  “We spoke with Jenn,” she said, taking over the questions as smoothly as if we’d been working together for years. “She says she was here all night. There was no appointment, so there was no reason for anyone else to come in.”

  Emily’s gaze shifted back and forth. Either she was watching a speedy game of ping-pong behind me, or she was trying to come up with her way out.

  I readied myself for her to switch to some ridiculous story about a scheduling error. If she did, my only next step would be to track down this Rayna person and bring someone else into my unsanctioned inquiries. But that possibility sparked another idea. If I could head her off that way first, maybe we could cut to the chase and get this done right here.

  “You know if we go to Rayna, she’ll deny she was here,” I said. “And if that’s the case, we’ll be back. Again. Another conversation to explain to your boss. So why don’t you just tell us?”

  “Because it’ll get me fired,” she said, her brown eyes filled with worry as she shifted her stare to me.

  “Who am I going to tell?” I scanned the room again for her manager, but there was no sign of him. “I’m not the police, official or morality, all right? I just want to know who the sixth server was.”

  If she said Joseph — if he’d slipped into the bathroom and changed costumes just long enough to poison Margery’s drink — we had him.

  Emily released a breath and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Listen, it wasn’t anything, all right? The night of the party, a woman came in through the kitchen.”

  A woman? Well there went my theory.

  Sybil snorted a laugh. “First that man, now her? Sounds like you should start locking the back door.”

  I worried her scorn would shut the other girl up, but the question of her competence seemed to spur her on to explaining herself.

  “I know,” she said. “It’s against the rules, but some of the girls go out there to smoke, so they leave it unlocked, okay? Anyway, this woman comes in wanting to borrow a uniform to play a prank on someone at the party.”

  Tears filled her eyes as her gaze jumped from my face to the door and back. “I knew I should have said no, but I didn’t see any trouble with it. She was laughing and seemed really nice. I figured she just wanted to surprise someone.”

  Sybil’s mouth fell open, but I caught her eye and offered a subtle shake of my head. I didn’t see the need in pointing out that someone had died, possibly as a result of her decision. It wouldn’t make Emily feel any better, and she couldn’t have known. At worst, she thought she was conspiring to give someone a bit of a shock.

  “Did the woman give her name?” I asked.

  Emily puffed out a breath and rolled her gaze upward to clear away her tears. “No, and I didn’t ask.” She sniffed and dabbed her nose with the crook of her fingers. “Are we done here?”

  A loud male voice came from the kitchen, coming closer, and I knew we were running out of time. Still, I planned to make the most of whatever few seconds we had left.

  “What did she look like?”

  Emily took a step toward the kitchen, ready to run from us if the door should open, but she said, “Brown hair, brown eyes, older. I don’t know, I wasn’t really paying attention. It was a busy night and I had to get back to the floor. Like I do now.”

  And just like that, our time was up. The door opened, the manager walked out, but by the time he saw us, Emily was already far enough away that she might have walked right past us.

  “Do you want a table?” he asked, not recognizing either of us, which I found interesting considering Sybil’s noteable eyeliner.

  “No, thank you. I was just booking a reservation for this Sunday.” An easy enough lie. I looked to Sybil. “Ready to go?”

  She nodded, but I could see she was as disappointed as I was. Who was the woman? What kind of prank had she wanted to play?

  Emily had single-handedly stolen my Joseph Marley theory and left us nothing else to go on.

  Discouraged, I gestured for the door and we started back through the lobby.

  We’d only just reached the door when the sound of shoes running across the marble tile caught my ear. I turned around and my eyebrows climbed on finding Emily hurrying toward us. “I just remembered,” she said, her words hitching over her quick breaths. “She said the prank was supposed to be against her sister. If that means anything to you.”

  My mouth went dry and my heart did a little dance. Without giving her an opportunity to run back to the kitchen, I reached into my bag and pulled out the photo I’d taken from Margery’s office.

  “Is this her?” I asked, handing it to her.

  Emily scanned it over and nodded. “Definitely. Now can I go?”

  She didn’t wait for permission before giving the photograph to Sybil and rushing back to the restaurant.

  “Who is this?” Sybil asked, frowning at the picture in her hand.

  “Her name is Kelly Marley,” I said, giving her a sly smil
e. “And she is Margery’s sister.”

  Kelly had access to her husband’s garden, and just as much reason to kill her sister.

  On top of all that, it seemed Kelly had made it to the party after all.

  16

  “So what does it mean?” Sybil asked as we rushed back to Mercy. I barely waited until the car was unlocked to tug on the handle and throw myself into the driver’s seat. My fingers were already tapping with impatience by the time Sybil closed the door behind her.

  “I don’t know yet,” I said.

  Sybil’s fingers tightened around the handhold as I whipped around a corner and onto the main street. “Why would she kill her own sister? Did she know about the affair?”

  I thought of Kelly’s pale face when Joseph had confessed his relationship. “I wouldn’t have thought so, but why else was she there?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “The funeral home,” I said. “Everyone involved in Margery’s murder will be there. This could get solved tonight.”

  “But you’re not supposed to — oof” — Sybil’s shoulder hit the door as I took another turn — “get involved in the murder part, remember?”

  “And I’ve held true to my word, haven’t I? I went to the hotel to double check the accuracy of our invoice. If someone told us something about the murder, that’s a coincidence, and one that I will dutifully pass along to Detective Curtis.”

  “You’re a brave woman.”

  “I like to think I’m capable of doing the right thing when the need arises.”

  I sped up to make our way through a yellow light, and Sybil winced at the blare of a car horn that sounded behind us.

  “Think you could slow down?” she asked. “I’d rather not get to the funeral home dead. Not yet anyway.”

  I was about to tell her there was no time to lose, but she was right. We couldn’t exactly burst through the front doors with pointing fingers. Better to arrive calm, collected, and ready to pay our respects. I would find Detective Curtis and, when the moment was right, I’d let her know what Emily had told me. She could speak to Kelly in her own time.

  Besides, I still didn’t know anything for certain.

  Releasing my breath in a huff, I slowed to the speed limit, and Sybil visibly relaxed beside me, releasing the handhold to reach for her bag.

  As we got closer to the funeral home, I thought again of Kelly’s reaction to Joseph’s confession. She had been shocked. Devastated.

  But what if I’d misinterpreted the reason? What if she hadn’t been reacting to the news that her husband and her sister were sleeping together, but to his admission that he’d been in love with her? That would throw any sane woman for a loop.

  Sybil pulled her photos out of her bag and laid a few out across her lap. “Do you think she might have done it? If you look in the photos, she shows up shortly after Brooks and Marley were arguing. If she’s the one who poisoned the drink, is it lucky timing or did she wait, guessing he would find a chance to talk to her? Or maybe Marley is still the one the police should be looking at. Maybe Kelly went there to warn her sister he meant to kill her?”

  I ran the possibilities through my mind. But then why hadn’t Kelly said anything? Marley didn’t know his wife had been there. Had Margery?

  I screamed through my teeth as the light turned red and drummed my thumbs against the steering wheel.

  “Why are we rushing?” Sybil asked. “Do you think the murderer is going to do a wake-and-dash?”

  “It’s possible,” I said. “At least we won’t need to put in a call for the police to meet us there.”

  “I know Sam was going to go with the rest of the team.”

  “Perfect. Hopefully I can get to Detective Curtis before she makes any moves of her own. If they’re planning to use the funeral to close in on someone, they should at least have all the facts.”

  I veered the car down the street toward the funeral home, and cursed when I spotted the full parking lot.

  “Everyone and his dog is here tonight,” Sybil said, staring in awe as we passed. “Was she really that popular?”

  “Notorious, maybe. But everyone loves a murder. It gets the whole community together.”

  “If it makes you any happier, I spotted a few police cars back there. If you really wanted to follow the rules, you could tell one of them. Then you wouldn’t have to go inside and see the detective.”

  “I could certainly do that, yes.”

  Sybil grinned in my periphery, knowing as well as I did that while I was happy to let Curtis get the spotlight on wrapping up this case, I at least wanted to get front row seats.

  I gritted my teeth and turned onto a side street. It took another block before Sybil shouted at an empty spot in front of an apartment complex. The sign indicated it was one-hour parking, but I was sure that would be enough time. A quick minute to pop in, offer the photos, say my farewells to Margery, and head out. Hopefully Curtis would want to avoid making a scene at a funeral by lecturing me on the spot. I’d have time to prepare myself for an earful later.

  I made sure all the photographs were in my bag as Sybil packed up hers, then I locked Mercy and we jogged back the way we came.

  “I don’t run,” Sybil said, already out of breath by the time we hit the end of the street.

  “We’re going to change that,” I said, my breath barely laboured. “You can come to my parkour class next week.”

  “Really? That sounds wicked.” Then she fell silent as her strained lungs left her incapable of speech.

  Youth these days — they really let themselves get out of shape.

  We ran across the street and through the main doors of the funeral home. Based on the parking lot, I expected the hallways to be crowded with nosy neighbours and maybe a few legitimate mourners, but it was empty except for a few smokers out front and half a dozen folks lingering by the snack table.

  Voices drifted toward us from down the hall, and I darted into the room. Nightmare visions flashed through my mind of barging into the wrong service, and I quickly scanned the faces closest to me hoping I would find someone I knew.

  At first, I thought it had happened and I’d made a complete fool of myself, but then Sybil grabbed my arm. “Over there!”

  I stood on tiptoe to see over the shoulders in front of me and spotted Sam beyond the crowd, blending in with the mourners in a black suit and tasteful tie.

  Sybil took my hand and tried to pull me forward, but the crowd was too thick, and no one was willing to give up their spot to view Margery.

  “This won’t work,” I said. “Come on, we’ll find another way in.”

  I tugged Sybil away and we hurried to the other entrance, only to discover that side just as blocked. Beyond, I made out an emptier circle around the casket where people were getting ready to line up to pay their final respects. For the moment, only Margery’s immediate family stood vigil.

  To the left of the casket was another door.

  “That must be for the staff,” I said, and spotted Curtis standing just a few feet away from it.

  Perfect.

  Picking up the pace, not wanting to get trapped behind any of the mourners moving in and out of the room, I rounded the corner and found myself facing a flight of stairs going to the basement. Not sure it was where I wanted to go but not seeing any other way to access the door, I headed down. Sybil stayed close at my heels.

  “Is my brain the only one telling me this isn’t a good idea?” she asked.

  “I think so. Mine is pleasantly silent right now.”

  “Probably because it knows you won’t listen.”

  I didn’t blame her for being worried. If we barged into the room through the service door, Sam would know she’d been working with me on something that could easily get him in trouble with his boss. And I doubted Curtis would be any more lenient on Sybil than she’d be on me.

  “You should head back and see if you can reach Sam through the crowds,” I said. “There’s no point in both of us ge
tting our butts handed to us by the cops.”

  For a beat, Sybil remained silent, and I was ready for her to take me up on the suggestion, but then she said, “No. I want to see this through. You weren’t the only person sticking your nose in, so it’s not right for you take all the blame.”

  When this was over, I would treat her to a triple scoop at Nathan’s Thirty-Two. She had more than earned it.

  We reached the bottom of the stairs and found ourselves in a large basement space. The lights were off except for a low emergency bulb, and for that I was grateful. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see all the details of what went on in the basement of a funeral home. Fortunately, up ahead was another exit sign, which I guessed led to a back door and hopefully to the service door in the viewing room.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I crossed through the space in the semi-darkness and reached the metal stairs. Light shone from underneath, making it easy to find my way up. The soles of Sybil’s boots clanged behind me, and I made a note to teach her some stealth tips along with all my other tricks.

  If she was going to sidekick me once in a while, the least she could do was not make my job harder.

  I held my breath as I turned the door handle and pushed it open into a narrow hallway. Up ahead another exit sign rested above a door that led to the parking lot, and, as I’d hoped, a second door sat to my right.

  My heart was in my chest as I pushed the door open and stepped through.

  My plan had been to go to Detective Curtis, hand over the photos, and pass along Emily’s information.

  That all went up in smoke when I spotted Kelly by the casket. She held two champagne glasses and was in the process of handing one to her husband.

  He smiled at her and accepted.

  She smiled back, and there was something about the glint in her eye that pushed me to move. Even looking back, I don’t know if I could explain what it was. A glimmer of anger, maybe? Of satisfaction? But in that moment, I realized what was about to happen if I didn’t do something to stop it.