Hijinks & Murder

by Beth Byers

  Delilah stopped shaking her head and her sudden stillness was disturbing.

  “He’ll never forgive you. You ruined him, you ruined Harold, and you murdered Grandfather.” Charlotte’s voice was the cold, flat tone a mother used with her children when they were really in trouble.

  Delilah found her voice. “Joseph will never believe you. He loves me.”

  “He will,” Charlotte said, “when we explain it to him. It’ll add up for him. Especially if he realizes if you left the bedroom. Maybe he’s already wondered and shrugged it off.”

  “He loves me,” Delilah snapped. “He loves me, and he knows how I sacrifice for him. And he’ll never believe you because he’s certain of my love for him and for the family we’ll have.”

  Violet and Charlotte had been sure of Delilah’s part in this before, but after that statement there was no going back.

  Delilah’s was a rather easy instrument to play when you knew where to hurt her, and it was without remorse that Violet added, “And, of course, no one will ever let you near their children again. They’ll find out what a monster you are, and they’ll pick up their babies and protect them from you. Just like Charlotte did already. She sent her babies away, and she’ll never let you around them again. Phoebe will protect Alice from you. Harold might well lose them both. All because you drew him into your bed to steal a baby from him.”

  Delilah’s unholy shriek of rage filled the air, and she lunged at Violet, clutching her around the throat as they both fell to the floor. Vi attempted to free herself, but it was like trying to shake off the grip of a gorilla. Charlotte was screaming hauling at Delilah, but it was useless. Violet gaped, struggling for air she could not reach.

  Violet grasped Delilah’s hands and dug her nails in. She gasped like a fish out of water, and no air got to her lungs. Her eyes were rolling in panic but the madness seemed to give Delilah a strength that Violet couldn’t overpower. Finally, another pair of hands pried Delilah’s vice-like grip from around Violet’s neck and Delilah was pulled away, shrieking incoherently.

  “You’re a rabid wolf, you know,” Smith murmured to Vi as he knelt next to her. “Beatrice is never going to forgive me. She told me to hurry.”

  Violet stared at him, holding her throat, and then her eyes welled with tears as she gasped painfully. A look of panic came over Smith’s face as he took in the tears, and he bellowed, “Beatrice!”

  Chapter 17

  “This makes us even for the gunshot,” Jack told Violet. The sick tone to his voice had Violet patting his hand. She tried to speak and croaked uselessly instead. He took her face between his hands, tilting her head to each side as he examined where she’d been choked. “Don’t speak, Vi.”

  Jack had been mere steps behind Beatrice after Smith’s bellow and when Jack found her holding her throat, he cursed deeply until Charlotte snapped at him. Jack cursed at Charlotte, then Delilah, and then pressed a gentle kiss to Vi’s forehead.

  “I’ll call the police,” Charlotte said.

  “And the doctor,” Jack and Beatrice ordered in unison.

  Jack turned to Delilah again and found Smith had used his tie to bind the woman to her chair. Smith was entertained, Violet thought, and she went to say something sarcastic but she could only croak. That simply made the man grin before he smoothed his expression into politeness at Beatrice’s disgusted look.

  Jack cursed again. He pressed Violet closer and then kissed her brow. “We’ll call the doctor, Vi darling. Don’t try to speak.”

  His voice was a furious growl, and Vi had little doubt he’d be dressing her down with a sharp, terrified fury once he was sure she was fine.

  Violet rolled her eyes at him, but his fingers were clutching her too hard. He had a hold of her as if he’d fight death for himself. He anchored her with his presence while Charlotte handed Violet a cup of chamomile and mint tea.

  “I’m so sorry,” Charlotte told Violet a moment later. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I called the police and the doctor. If Jack will carry you to your room, you can rest until he arrives.”

  Before Jack could do more than let her sip the tea, the entire Rees family, led by Mrs. Stevens swept into the nursery, followed by Miss Allen and Mr. Baldwin. The nursery, which had felt cozy before, was now stifling.

  “What is this madness?” Oliver Rees demanded, but he was overshadowed by the furious shout of his nephew, Joseph.

  “Untie her at once!” Joseph demanded of Smith. “I’ll have you drawn up on charges, my good man. How dare you tie up my wife?”

  Smith simply arched a sardonic brow and nodded his head towards Violet. Joseph took in her blooming bruises and seemed unable to comprehend the connection between his bound wife and Violet’s injuries.

  “Joseph, he can’t,” Charlotte said gently. “Delilah killed Grandfather.”

  “She couldn’t have!” Harold snapped. “It’s not possible. How dare you say such a thing?”

  “Oh,” Mrs. Stevens said. She seemed relieved as she glanced about the room filled with her beloveds. Of them all to be the murderer, who was more preferable than the nephew’s wife? It so easily could have been her own nephew or great nephew.

  Joseph stared at his cousin and then slowly at his wife. He was shaking his head, speechless.

  “She couldn’t have,” Harold repeated.

  “Of course she couldn’t,” Phoebe shot out, but her tone was full of mean sarcasm.

  “I assume,” Charlotte snapped back, raking her brother raw with her judgement-filled gaze, “she did so because Grandfather realized you two were having an affair.”

  The family gasped at once and it seemed to be a near roar of choked horror. Harold jerked at the sound. When he saw their accusing expressions, he paled to a sickly green. Joseph spun on his cousin, grabbing him by the lapels, and demanded, “Are you sleeping with my wife?”

  Harold gaped, striving for an answer. He failed.

  “Of course he is,” Phoebe said meanly. “Trailing his finger over her hand, along the back of her neck. A classic Harold move to ensure his lady is thinking of him.” Her disgust was filled with fury. “I told you he was a snake in the grass, Joseph.”

  “Be quiet woman!” Harold snapped.

  “No,” Phoebe replied, calm for once. “You cuckolding your cousin got your grandfather murdered. I’m surprised Charlotte and her husband aren’t crying, ‘Repent!’ but perhaps they too believe there is nothing to be done for a man such as you. How could you do that? To him? To me? To Alice? You’re a snake, Harold Rees. A betraying, no-good, nasty snake.”

  Her disgust had Harold taking a step towards her, but Alexander grabbed Harold’s arm and in a low voice ordered, “Don’t! You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  Mrs. Stevens and her nephews were watching the horror. Violet was surprised at the quietness, thinking her own family would be shouting. Instead, the reaction was just silent, judging eyes. The fathers were quietly conferring and Violet wanted nothing more than to hear what they had to say after such a revelation.

  Mrs. Oliver had started to cry, turning into the arms of Mrs. Stevens while Mrs. Edgar crossed to Delilah and slapped her hard and vicious.

  “Mother!” Joseph said, his voice cracking and his eyes wide with the feelings he was choking down. “Stop. Please stop. I love her. I love her.”

  Mrs. Edgar turned to take in Violet and then Mrs. Edgar’s lips were trembling too. She crossed to Joseph, trying to hold him. He shrugged her off, and she moved back silently, holding her heart. Mrs. Oliver called to Mrs. Edgar, opening her arms and the two women seemed to collapse into each other.

  Beatrice crossed to Violet and Jack and suggested that they come down to the bedroom and Beatrice would care for Violet. Jack started to carry Violet out of the room before the family argument turned vicious, but it was ended just as they left.

  Mrs. Stevens slowly turned to her nephews and their family. “At least now we know.”

  Phoebe scowled. “We know and everything is ruin
ed.”

  Violet would have liked to point out that Phoebe had known before and held it in, but Mrs. Stevens replied first. “It was ruined before. Now we can heal.”

  Phoebe’s snort told them all what she thought the chances of that would be, but she was cut off from replying as the constables and doctor arrived.

  While Dr. Welch helped Violet, the local constables arrested Delilah. Whatever family argument ensued among the relatives, they missed.

  “What will happen to Delilah?” Beatrice asked Jack.

  “She’ll probably go to a sanitarium.” He rubbed his hand over his face, and they all knew that the doctor was listening with interest.

  Charlotte had left the family to attend Violet and she sighed. “That’s for the best. She needs help.”

  “And Harold?” Beatrice asked Charlotte without sympathy for the killer.

  The cuckold’s sister winced and shook her head. “I don’t know. Things can’t really go back to the way they were before. It will take time for forgiveness and healing.”

  Violet imagined they couldn’t. She rubbed her throat as the doctor checked her pulse again. Joseph clearly loved his wife. Vi wasn’t sure that there would be forgiveness or healing between the cousins.

  “And the journal?” Beatrice looked between Jack and Charlotte.

  “It may never be found,” Jack admitted. He ran his hand over Violet’s back, still refusing to let go of her. Every time he took in the forming bruises on her neck, he muttered darkly. “We won’t need it given she attacked Violet. She might get away with the murder, but she’ll end in the sanitarium for the attack.”

  Violet wanted to reply, but the doctor said, “Better not to speak, Mrs. Wakefield.”

  Violet would have ignored him, but Jack placed a hand over her mouth and handed her the tea.

  “Don’t speak for several days and see your regular doctor in London. Better to let your vocal chords recover, ma’am.”

  It was all tea and silence for Violet. Beatrice stood, glanced at Charlotte and the doctor, and silently began packing for both Jack and Violet. In mere minutes, their things were returned to their trunks and Beatrice had disappeared long enough to gather her own and Smith’s things. Charlotte tried offering a continued bed for the night, but they were done with the Rees family, their home, and their murder. Despite the lateness of the hour, Violet was loaded into the auto with Smith, Beatrice, and Jack and driven home.

  Right where she wanted to be.

  The END

  Hullo friends! I am so grateful you dove in and read the latest Vi book. If you wouldn’t mind, I would be so grateful for a review.

  The next book in this series is available for preorder now.

  March 1926

  On Valentine’s Day, gifts arrived for Violet. Gifts that weren't from Jack. And they kept coming.

  If she had to admit it, she’d say she was spooked. If Jack had to admit it, he’d say he was furious. If Victor had to admit it, he'd say the sender better run for his life. And soon.

  Then they discover another woman received the same type of things. Gifts. Notes. Distant adoration. Only this woman has turned up dead. Trying to uncover the anonymous sender, Jack and Victor discover there isn’t anything they wouldn’t do to keep Vi alive and safe with them. It turns out there isn’t anything Violet wouldn’t do to stay with them.

  Order Here.

  The next Poison Ink mystery is also available for preorder.

  April 1937

  When Georgette Dorothy Aaron first started writing books, she little expected to effect real life. When she dives into writing crime novels with Robert, she little expected to see fiction come to life once again.

  Once before she wrote a book and changed the fate of her neighbors. Was it happening again? Were the gods playing games with her? Or was she just noticing something else occurring? Either way, another mystery is afoot.

  Order here.

  Also by Beth Byers

  The Violet Carlyle Cozy Historical Mysteries

  Murder & the Heir

  Murder at Kennington House

  Murder at the Folly

  A Merry Little Murder

  New Year’s Madness: A Short Story Anthology

  Valentine’s Madness: A Short Story Anthology

  Murder Among the Roses

  Murder in the Shallows

  Gin & Murder

  Obsidian Murder

  Murder at the Ladies Club

  Weddings Vows & Murder

  A Jazzy Little Murder

  Murder by Chocolate

  A Friendly Little Murder

  Murder by the Sea

  Murder On All Hallows

  Murder in the Shadows

  A Jolly Little Murder

  Hijinks & Murder

  Love & Murder (coming soon)

  The Hettie and Ro Adventures

  co-written with Bettie Jane

  Philanderers Gone

  Adventurer Gone

  Holiday Gone

  Aeronaut Gone (coming soon)

  Prankster Gone (coming soon)

  The Poison Ink Mysteries

  Death By the Book

  Death Witnessed

  Death by Blackmail

  Death Misconstrued

  Deathly Ever After

  Death in the Mirror

  A Merry Little Death

  Death Between the Pages (Coming Soon)

  The 2nd Chance Diner Mysteries

  Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder

  Cookies & Catastrophe

  Poison & Pie

  Double Mocha Murder

  Cinnamon Rolls & Cyanide

  Tea & Temptation

  Donuts & Danger

  Scones & Scandal

  Lemonade & Loathing

  Wedding Cake & Woe

  Honeymoons & Honeydew

  The Pumpkin Problem

  Copyright © 2020 by Beth Byers, Amanda A. Allen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.