Murder and Manuscripts

by Stacey Alabaster

  “I’ll follow up on it,” I promised.

  But right then, I just wanted to get away from the place.

  12

  Alyson

  The sound of waves crashing soothed my nerves a little bit as I stepped off the train and onto the platform. I was a little unsteady that day, like a newborn calf. I wasn’t wearing heels, not exactly, but the wedges I had on were higher than I was used to. And the dress was a little shorter and tighter than what I would usually wear.

  But this was a very usual day.

  “Ally!” Mum called out as she pulled the car to a stop and waved me over to the passenger seat.

  Rushcutter’s Cove had a better surf than Eden Bay, which was why it was the location of the yearly surf comp. But the actual town was smaller than Eden Bay and less of a tourist destination. It was a little rockier on the coast, and the sand was a little rougher. And bigger waves didn’t necessarily make it a better beach. But it was where my parents had moved a few years earlier and they loved the seclusion. When we got back to their house, Mum gave me a hug and asked how I was dealing “with everything.”

  I knew what she meant. She was talking about the fact that Matt and I were no longer, strictly speaking, splitting custody of our niece. J was still staying with me every other weekend, but she was pretty much full time at Matt’s place at the moment. It was to give her stability. It was what J wanted. I just missed her, was all.

  “J will be at my place next weekend, I’m just looking forward to that.” I was trying to engage, but I was distracted. I didn’t really love talking about the living arrangement. Matt had asked me to move in with him and I knew that Mum thought it was a good idea as well. I just wasn’t ready to be pushed into it. And I particularly wasn’t interested in getting pushed into it on that day.

  She must have wondered why I was sitting there, back straight, so nervously looking at the clock, twiddling my thumbs and avoiding any serious questions.

  Mum always thought any problem could be fixed with food.

  “Come on, dear, have another scone,” she said.

  But I shook my head. “I really can’t, Mum.” There was another reason I was in Rushcutter’s Cove that day, and I could definitely not eat another scone. I didn’t want to make myself too full.

  She looked up at me in surprise, before she set the tray back down. “You’ve got somewhere else you need to be?”

  “I, uh, just want to check out the surf,” I said. “You know what they say about not going into the water within two hours of eating.” Though I was pretty sure that had long been proven to be a myth. My mum was old. She probably still believed it.

  But what she didn’t believe was anything I was saying. She looked me up and down and took note of the dress I was wearing. “You’re wearing earrings, Alyson.”

  Clip-ons. I didn’t have my ears pierced.

  “Now why would you be wearing those if you are about to go surfing?” She tilted her head. “And you look like you’ve actually brushed your hair for once. What is the special occasion? I know that’s not all just for my benefit.” She looked over her shoulder. “And it’s certainly not for your dad’s, seeing as he’s been banging away in the shed all morning.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, okay, Mum?” Nothing personal. I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. I didn’t want anyone to know, or to see, what I was doing that day. That was why I was in the next town over from Eden Bay. So no one saw. Even dropping in on my parents that day was partly just to make sure they were at home and not ‘out and about’ on the loose.

  I glanced at the clock again. Time had come. I stood up and checked myself in the hallway mirror. One of my earrings was about to come loose. I noticed my hands were shaking when I reached up to fix it.

  I’d declined my mum’s offer of a lift into town and walked to the restaurant myself. It was one that I’d only been to once before in my life, to celebrate my parent’s twentieth wedding anniversary. It was the kind of restaurant that put out fresh long-stemmed, white candles for every service.

  Troy was already out front, waiting for me. In a strange way, he was dressed ‘down’ from how he usually was, in a plaid shirt and capri pants, but that was only because he usually wore a full suit around work. Whereas I had gone in the opposite direction. I was more dressed up than I had been in years.

  “You look nervous,” he said.

  “Well, I’m not. Just slightly chilly.” I even shivered a little more for effect.

  I felt like I had to make it clear before we sat down. “This isn’t a real date, Troy.”

  But the hostess was smiling at us and waiting for us to take our seats. She didn’t care whether it was a real date or not. And so I sat.

  Troy had a look of bemusement on his face. “Actually, Alyson, that’s exactly what we agreed it was. That’s the whole reason you made me meet you out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  I just looked at him as if to say, are you serious? Rushcutter’s Cove was only a twenty-minute drive from Eden Bay, so hardly the middle of nowhere. Though, I supposed it was even further out from the city and because it was south, it was even colder than Eden Bay.

  “We’ll have whatever wine you recommend,” Troy said and handed the drink menu back. “A full bottle. Don’t worry about the price.” The hostess was thrilled. But he couldn’t impress me by throwing his cash around.

  Fine, all right? We had agreed that it was a real date. But that didn’t mean that I wanted anyone to see me with Troy Emerald. This was just to…test the water. See if he could actually be a real human being. I felt like I needed to scratch the itch or it was never going to go away. And yet, I still couldn’t believe I’d said yes when he’d sent me the text message two days earlier.

  At least we weren’t in Eden Bay. And I had made it a lunch date to keep it a little casual. Not that Florentine’s was anything resembling casual. The wine arrived, and I quickly checked the list for the price. Two hundred and fifty dollars. Gulp. It wasn’t the price itself that made me nervous. It was the fact that this was nothing to him. Sometimes it felt like Troy Emerald and I weren’t even the same species.

  Our steaks arrived. Choice cuts, of course. Mine was so tender it almost melted in my mouth, and I almost didn’t want to admit how much I was enjoying it.

  “What are those?” he asked, using the end of the knife to point in the direction of my ears.

  “Don’t go thinking I got dressed up just for you, okay?” I said, taking a sip of the wine, which, to be honest, I couldn’t really tell from cheap wine. “I also had to drop in on my parents and they have a thing about good presentation.” They didn’t.

  Troy just looked amused. He always looked amused with me. I never knew if that was a good thing or not. Sure. I actually liked being entertaining and amusing. But what would happen when he stopped being charmingly amused by my antics and started getting annoyed by them instead?

  Claire always said that it was the thing that most attracted you to someone at the start that winds up being the thing that most annoys you about them at the end.

  Of course, I could never, ever tell Claire that I was on a date with Troy Emerald. I did feel bad about keeping it from her. As much as we argued about the cases we were working on, one thing we were always honest about was the personal stuff that was going on in our lives. I knew she would never keep something this big from me.

  I peered up at Troy. Before I told anyone—ANYONE—I had to suss him out first. Was he a good guy who occasionally acted like a jerk, or was he a jerk who occasionally acted like a good guy? He might say why did it matter which way around it was? But it did matter. A lot.

  Troy finished up his meal and lay his cutlery on the plate. He leaned forward. “So, that surf shop that I told you about. I cancelled their lease.”

  I was shocked. Thanks to nerves, I had only eaten a quarter of my meal, and now I set it aside completely.

  “I told you I didn’t want you to do that for me,” I said, trying to
seem like I was annoyed. But okay, I had to admit, there was a big part of me that was pleased that he did. But I made sure not to crack a smile. To let my mouth even curl at the edges. To let my eyes shine a little. He had to know that this was not acceptable and that I was not impressed at all.

  But somehow, he could see through that. “I know,” he said gently. “But I wanted to do it for you, okay?” He reached out and put his hand over mine. I didn’t pull mine away.

  “It is okay to accept help, Alyson.”

  Yuck. Accepting help was the worst.

  I told him that I would catch the train back to Eden Bay even though he told me that was ridiculous as he was about to drive straight back. But I couldn’t risk it. “Maybe you should have worn a wig,” he said as dropped me at the train station and got out to walk me to the platform.

  There was a gentle breeze as we waited. “I suppose this is the ending of our official real first date,” I said, and then realized I’d implied there were going to be more. He stared at me to ask if there would be. But I glanced away. I wasn’t even sure what answer my face was going to give. I didn’t want to give any.

  “So last time we got to this point, we got cut a little short,” he said. He came closer to me and I looked up at him. This time, his face was asking a question. Were we going to kiss?

  I still wasn’t sure I wanted to kiss him. I wasn’t sure about a single thing about Troy Emerald.

  13

  Claire

  Sadie worked as a receptionist in the town’s visitor center. As I paced out front, I tried to think of an excuse to go inside. I wasn’t technically a ‘visitor’ to Eden Bay. I had a lease on an apartment. I’d spent ten years in the town, for crying out loud. And yet I did feel like an outsider.

  I finally just pushed the door open and walked in with confidence.

  “Oh. Claire.” Well, she didn’t have to be so happy to see me.

  I smiled at her—a little coldly, I had to admit, which wasn’t part of the plan—and started leafing through a stack of tourist brochures even though all of this information would have been available online.

  “Can I help you with anything?” Sadie asked, putting on an overly fake ‘customer service’ voice.

  I returned a smile so wide that it hurt. Boy. Pulled some muscles I rarely ever used there. “I was just wondering…” Something came to me. “If there were any cottages for rent in the area.” I pulled a musing face like the idea had just occurred to me. “You know, the kind that a writer could use to finish a book.”

  Sadie took a few moments to adjust her face. “Is this…is this for yourself?” she asked.

  “It is, as a matter of fact,” I said, leaning over the counter a little. “I’m writing a book.”

  Sadie’s smile grew even wider and faker. “That’s wonderful news. Maybe we should exchange notes sometimes. Seeing as you are a fellow writer.” She tapped her nails on the desk. “So have you tried to find a publisher yet?”

  I was going to have to lie if I was going to get her true reaction. “Yes,” I said blatantly. “I have a publisher very interested.” I lowered my voice. “But keep that a secret please. It’s just between the two of us.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “So,” I said, glancing around. “Do you know of any cottages?”

  She hesitated a moment. “There is one really wonderful place, down on the cliffs. I have used it myself a few times. There is something magical about the place. It will inspire you.”

  Interesting. Was she talking about Simon’s cottage? “And can you give me a contact detail for this magical place?”

  “There’s no official brochure. More of a word of mouth thing.” Again, she hesitated before she reached for her own purse and pulled out a business card. I recognized Simon’s number at bottom before she even handed it to me. Before I could take it, she paused and asked, “So, what is your book about anyway?”

  I smiled at her. “It’s a murder mystery,” I said. “About the events that have happened recently here in Eden Bay. I am calling it The Bookshelf.” I took the card and left. As I glanced back over my shoulder, I saw her smile slip.

  I would have liked backup for what I was going to do next. But Alyson was over in Rushcutter’s Cove, visiting her parents or something. Or maybe she was just trying to gain anonymity again. I knew that she was tired of all the looks and stares she got when she walked around Eden Bay. Well, she said she was tired of them. She kind of looked like she enjoyed them sometimes.

  A waitress asked me if I wanted to order anything while I waited. “Water is fine,” I said as I glanced around the restaurant which mostly served wood-fired pizzas. I was a little on edge as I waited for Simon to arrive and kept sipping my water. The place was cozy, and I’d chosen a place by the fire. Yet I didn’t feel comforted.

  Simon walked in with a grin and took off his scarf.

  “I am counting down the days to winter solstice,” he announced after ordering some wine and we ordered our meals. “Then it is all uphill from there. We rush back towards summer.”

  “I’m also a summer girl,” I said, clinking my glass against his. And it was only three days till the shortest day would come and go—I was counting down as well.

  I asked him how his award ceremony in Newcastle had gone and he cringed a little as he took a gulp of wine. “All these amateur writers trying to get me to read their manuscripts…” He was grimacing a bit. “Don’t take this the wrong way. They mean well.”

  Well, now I really didn’t want to tell him about my idea for a book series. Because what I had said to Sadie was true. I’d been writing, in secret, ever since Nicole-Marie’s body had been found in my shop. And I thought I had a really good tale—including a twist at the end.

  “Everything okay, Claire?” Simon asked, nudging me with his foot. “You’ve gone a little quiet.”

  “Oh yes, everything is more than wonderful.” I smiled at him. I was sick of talking about Sadie and thinking about Sadie, but I knew Alyson would follow it up, so I had to at least ask. “Do you know a woman named Sadie…” I tried to think of her surname, but then realized I didn’t know it.

  He laughed quite forcefully and rolled his eyes a little. “Oh. Yes. I know Sadie.”

  “Oh, Right.” I was a little surprised by his reaction. “And how well do you know her?” Strange reaction to have towards someone who’d just rented his cottage a couple of times.

  He started cutting into his steak. Sighed. “Well, we dated for a little while…”

  Oh. I was surprised to hear that. Only because Sadie was at least a decade older than him. Not that she was unattractive for her age, I was just surprised that Simon would go for someone that much older, that that was his type.

  Or maybe I just wasn’t anyone’s type lately.

  I forced a smile back onto my face. “You also seemed to know her collaborator?” I asked. “Zed?”

  He put his wine glass down. “Yes. Ah, the one we had the lucky escape from that night.” He winked at me a little. In spite of the danger and drama that night, it had been kinda fun. “Zed is an interesting character…to say the very least.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Was there another reason you wanted to run that night, Simon?”

  His eyes were shining a little. “You’re a perceptive woman, Claire Elizabeth Richardson. Yes. Zed doesn’t like me much. I think he was always a little jealous. I think he wanted to ‘collaborate’ with Sadie in more ways than one.” He swirled the wine around in his glass. “You’re good at this, you know? Making connections. Maybe you have a real talent for it.”

  Maybe I did. But I still wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him about my book.

  I almost needed a sweater that afternoon as I wandered through Eden Bay to the other side of town. I was trying to put it all together, and my head was spinning. Maybe Simon was just flattering me—I wasn’t sure I did actually have a talent for making connections—but I was becoming certain that Sadie had played a part in Nicole Marie�
��s death.

  I laughed a little and shivered as the cool sea air hit me. I was going to have to tell Alyson that her hunch had been right. I sighed as I approached Maria’s house and wondered… If Alyson had been right about one person, who was to say she wasn’t right about another one?

  I knocked and waited. I had never actually been to Maria’s home, but Alyson was a regular visitor now that Maria was tutoring her. I wasn’t sure how seriously Alyson was taking her studies though, seeing as she had missed today’s session and had sent me instead.

  Maria blinked at me. “I was expecting Alyson.”

  “I know. She can’t make it tonight, so she asked me to come by and get her homework,” I said, trying to step inside. I was cold.

  Maria didn’t look too sure about letting me inside. Maybe her instincts were right—I was there to get more than just homework.

  “How have the cats been?” I asked her as I entered her teaching room, which was set up like a small classroom. There was a reading for Alyson on her desk and an assignment where she was supposed to analyze a short piece of poetry. Boy, was she going to hate that.

  Maria just nodded a little. She looked nervous. “I don’t mind doing it, Claire, but it’s stressful, sneaking in there every night.”

  I hadn’t realized I was asking so much of her. “It will only be a few more days,” I said. “Then we will be allowed to open again.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t do it, Claire.”

  She was almost sound weepy. What had gotten into the woman? Gosh. Please don’t tell me Alyson was right again. My voice was quiet. “Alyson told me that you looked suspicious the other night. She was watching you.” Okay, that sounded a little creepy. Especially in the tone of voice I was using.

  It seemed like I had broken the usually-jolly woman.

  “Okay, okay, you’ve got me,” she said. She was actually dabbing at her forehead with a handkerchief. My questions had actually made her break out into a cold sweat.