Powdered Murder (Bison Creek Mysteries Book 1)

by A. Gardner

  Eli directed me towards a man with dark hair and trimmed beard. He was dressed in a suave suit and had a matching leather shoulder bag across his chest. He lifted his chin when he saw me – the way Martha sometimes did when she met someone new. It was her way of showing the other person she was a woman of importance. As if raising your chin above someone means you are high on the totem pole.

  "Miss…?" The man searched my chest for a name tag. He immediately stopped when his glance lingered too long on the buttons on my shirt.

  "Stratter," I said. The man reached out to shake my hand and I hesitantly accepted. "What can I do for you?"

  "I'm here to speak to the happy couple about an exclusive deal with Starstruck Magazine. I know they will be interested in our very lucrative offer. Can you put me in touch with Miss Clemton's assistant or manager, perhaps?"

  "Oh I—"

  "I realize you have a lot going on here, Ma’am," he interrupted as if he had rehearsed his argument many times in front of the mirror. "I am only asking for a minute of their time, and I promise the deal I am here to negotiate is nothing short of seven figures. Please, let them know that."

  "I will," I responded. "Mister...?"

  "Oh." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a laminated badge. "Mr. Thomsen. Here is my identification. You can call the magazine and verify my employee number if you like."

  I accepted his badge and stared at the name on his identification card. It said C. Thomsen. I re-read his name a few times. It sparked something inside my head I couldn't let go of. I resorted to saying his name out loud to help my thought process along.

  "C. Thomsen," I said quietly. The man watched me curiously as I kept repeating his name. "C. Thomsen. C. Thomsen."

  "Yes," the man replied. "That is me. Like I said before."

  "Are you okay, Essie?" Eli nudged my shoulder and waited for me to respond.

  "C. Thomsen," I said again like a broken record.

  "Yeah." The man was beginning to look slightly annoyed. "The C stands for Charles, but I go by Robert, my middle name."

  "Charles," I whispered. "C. Thomsen. Charles Thomsen. C. Darnay. Charles." My eyes went wide. "Charles Darnay. Charles Dickens."

  "You'll have to excuse her," Eli said, ignoring me. "She's had a little too much to drink if you know what I mean."

  "Shush, Eli," I said. I faced Charles Thomsen (a.k.a. Robert). "You've read A Tale of Two Cities, haven't you? By Charles Dickens?"

  "Is this some kind of trick question?" he looked from me to Eli to see if we were pulling some kind of prank.

  "There's a character in that book named Charles Darnay," I stated.

  "Um … yeah," he agreed. I looked at Eli.

  "No clue." Eli shrugged.

  "C. Darnay," I said. "Eli, go upstairs and make sure Lila and Bebe stay in their rooms." I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number to the sheriff’s office. No answer. "Oh, for the love of…" I dialed the number again.

  "Officer Williams," Murray answered.

  "Murray," I shouted. "Where’s the sheriff?"

  "He's out on patrol this morning," he answered. "Looking for you-know-who."

  "Tell him to get to the resort as soon as possible, got it? As soon as possible!"

  "What's the matter?" Murray asked. "You sound like you've seen a ghost or something."

  "No." I gripped my phone tight and looked from Eli to the man from Starstruck Magazine. The clue was in front of me this whole time and I couldn't piece it together until now. Franco, the Dickens buff, had ordered and picked up the cupcakes using the name C. Darnay, a fictional character from the book he was currently reading. He texted Donna in behalf of Lila, snuck into the spa while Misty and Eli were off doing who knows what, and offered Donna a deadly sweet. And when Donna's throat started to close up, Franco pushed her into the pool and waited for nature to take its course.

  "Then what's going on?" Murray waited eagerly for me to tell him why I was panting, insisting that the sheriff pay the resort a visit immediately.

  I didn't know why Franco wanted to kill Donna. Maybe she knew about his book deal? Maybe she was planning on blabbing to everyone this weekend starting with Patrick. Maybe Bev already knew about it and that's why she backed out of the wedding? Maybe all this drama was his attempt at topping the New York Times' Bestseller List? All I knew was he was reckless, he'd tried to kill me, and when he finally found out that Lila and I knew about his book too, he would stop at nothing.

  "I know who the murderer is."

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I changed into my bridesmaid’s dress as I waited for Sheriff Williams to show up. I nervously cracked my knuckles while Bebe talked about how she'd decided to get a manicure with almond-shaped nails. The two of us were in Bebe's suite getting ready. Lila was in her room getting her hair done, and probably downing drinks. Franco was still in his room trying to get over a massive hangover from too much complimentary Scotch.

  "Essie," Bebe commented. "Are you even listening?"

  "Sorry." I switched to the knuckles on my other hand. "Keep going."

  "Aren't you going to give yourself a touch up at least?" she suggested holding up a compact of bronzer. I looked in the mirror at my simple makeup and plain, wintery blue bridesmaid’s dress. It was long and meant to be worn with a shawl. The dresses were well made, but they weren't particularly flattering. It made sense. I was sure Lila didn’t want anyone to outshine her on her big day. My stomach churned. I couldn't force myself to pretend everything was normal. There could be a killer sleeping off his hangover on the other side of the hall.

  "Sure." I dug through her makeup kit and pulled out some pink lipstick. I checked the label and grinned. It was one from Lila's makeup line. The color was called sugar salmon. "Where did Lila come up with these lipstick names?"

  "Who knows," Bebe giggled. "She said she wanted to steer clear of bubble gum names whatever that means." She looked down at her wrist at the silver cuff she'd chosen to wear. I was almost certain that underneath the cuff was her usual white wristband. The random snapping was an unusual behavior. One that I had never seen before.

  "Nice bracelet," I casually commented. "But it covers the other one."

  "What other one?"

  "The plain white one you always wear," I added.

  Bebe didn't respond. Instead, her cheeks turned rosy and she pressed her lips together. She quickly cleared her throat and turned away. I didn't know her choice of accessories would turn out to be a sensitive subject.

  "Sorry," I apologized.

  "Don't be," she replied. "You're the first person to notice."

  "Really?" The snapping was hard to miss. At least, for me it was.

  "It's a … coping mechanism." She slid the silver cuff up her forearm, revealing the plain, white wristband. "I snap it whenever I have negative thoughts. Sounds stupid, I know. My psychiatrist recommended it. You know, an alternative to anxiety meds."

  "Does everyone in Hollywood see some sort of therapist?"

  "They're like a country gal's sweet tea," she laughed, snapping the wristband jokingly.

  "I'll have to try that when I'm craving a doughnut."

  Bebe giggled.

  I touched up my lips and adjusted the top of my dress.

  My muscles tightened every time the floor creaked. The sound of the elevator dinging rang through the room. There was a light knock on the door and I jumped to my feet to answer it. I was relieved when Sheriff Williams and Murray stared back at me. Joy stood behind them anxiously tapping her heel.

  "Sheriff," I said." I'm glad you're here."

  "I hear you have some information for me," he replied lowly.

  "What's the sheriff doing here?" Bebe asked. She smiled. "Is he escorting us to the ceremony? Oh, how sweet."

  "Not exactly." I took a step back so Murray and the sheriff could come inside. They both walked in followed by Joy. "I called them."

  "What is it, Essie? Who's the culprit?" Sheriff Williams rested his hands in the po
ckets of his coat as he waited for me to tell him what I knew. He acted as if the past few days hadn't happened, and that he hadn't warned me to stay away from his investigation.

  "I need you to make an arrest."

  The sheriff resumed his regular smug attitude and folded his arms.

  "Give me a reason to," he replied.

  All eyes were on me. The room fell silent. Joy placed her hands on her hips and Murray pulled a voice recorder from his pocket. Bebe stared at me curiously and gently lifted the hem of her dress as she sat down to listen. It was time to put everything out in the open before Franco followed through with his threat to kill me next.

  "On Friday someone placed an order with the kitchen for a dozen Pinecliffe Delights," I began. "It's a chocolate cupcake filled with peanut butter cream. Anyway, that person then waited for Donna at the hotel spa sneaking in while Misty and was shacked up with Eli in a storage closet, fed her the cake knowing she was highly allergic to the peanut butter filling, and then pushed her into the pool and watched her die."

  "You don't know for sure—"

  "It was Franco, Lila's assistant," I cut him off. Bebe gasped and Joy rubbed her temples like she was about to get a migraine.

  "Can you prove this, Essie? Or is this just one of your theories?"

  "Whoever placed that cupcake order had to use a name," I continued. "Franco used the name C. Darnay thinking it was a clever disguise, but I found an old copy of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities in his room."

  "That still doesn't explain why he would want to kill a young girl he barely knew," the Sheriff argued.

  "He would if she knew something about him he didn't want anyone else to know, especially Lila." I glanced at Bebe. She raised her eyebrows. "He's going to expose all of her secrets in a tell-all book he's writing."

  "Franco?" Bebe blurted out. "Oh Lord. He would never do a thing like that."

  "He would and he is," I insisted. "I saw the book myself."

  Sheriff Williams shot me a stern look and I cleared my throat when I realized I would have to explain I'd broken into his room to snoop around. I swiftly thought on my feet and attempted to move the conversation past that little detail. "Check Donna's cell phone and you'll see that it all adds up. Franco sent her a text right before she left her room. It was the last text she received. It was him, sheriff. You have to do something before he makes good on his threat to come after me next."

  "I…" Sheriff Williams touched the end of his gray mustache. "I suppose I can detain him for questioning at the least."

  "But he's part of the wedding party," Bebe commented.

  "He could be a murderer," Joy added. The tone of her voice was a tad rude, and it made Bebe gawk at her for saying it so bluntly.

  "Murray," the sheriff said. He stepped out into the hall and waited for his son to join him. Murray pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I'd rarely seen him use them before. The last time was when old man Simpkons had too much to drink and ended up exposing himself to half the town in front of the Grizzly. That was a sight that could never be unseen. The temperature had reached one of its record lows that night.

  "He's in his room," I said.

  The three of us watched as the sheriff knocked firmly on Franco's door. The banging of his fist was loud enough to distract Lila from whatever she was doing in her suite. The door to her room opened and she poked her head outside. Her hair was curled and pinned halfway up with diamond barrettes. She was wearing a short white robe with her tights and garter already on. My chest tightened when Patrick also stepped out of her room to see what the commotion was. He was already wearing his suit and his hair was gelled the way he used to do it in high school.

  "What are you doing?" Lila asked. "Why is the sheriff here?"

  "Patrick," Joy greeted him. She looked at me and smirked. "Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?"

  "We had some things to talk about," he casually answered.

  "Never mind our personal business," Lila butted in. "Why does the sheriff look like he's about to break down my assistant's door." Lila looked to me with a scolding eye. My heart wouldn't slow down, especially when Sheriff Williams banged on Franco's door a second time. The hallway suddenly felt stuffy and overwhelmingly crowded. Bebe began telling Lila and Patrick the details of Franco's possible arrest while Joy tried fiddling with the lock on the door. The sheriff knocked again, and the hall fell silent when Franco answered. He squinted when light flooded into his room. His hair was messy and he was wearing the same collared shirt he had been wearing the night before. It was unbuttoned exposing his tan, leathery chest.

  "I'm not late, am I?" he blurted out. His gaze connected with Lila's. "Oh, honey, please don't tell me I missed the wedding."

  "No," Lila answered. "But it looks like you are going to."

  "What?"

  "Sir, I'm going to need you to come down to the station with me." The sheriff took a step forward ignoring Franco's need for personal space. He wrinkled his nose and took a step back. "Now, please."

  "What for?" Franco asked. "This is a joke, right? Lila, the whole prank thing is so juvenile. It is bad taste, sweetie." He shook his head and flashed her a smirk. Lila folded her arms.

  "I can't believe it," she said softly. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she wiped it away before it ruined her wedding makeup. "I can't believe you would sell me out like this after all we have been through together."

  "Huh?" Franco looked confused at first, but then he glimpsed over his shoulder and clenched his hand in a fist. He gulped as a bead of sweat formed on his forehead.

  "Where were you Friday afternoon?" Sheriff Williams asked.

  "I was with them," he replied, pointing to me, Bebe, and Lila. "I was at the bridal shower tea. They all saw me."

  "Before that," the sheriff specified.

  "Well … I was here in my room."

  "Can anyone verify that?"

  "No … I was alone." He twiddled his thumbs nervously. "I was … catching up on some work."

  "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to come with me." The sheriff reached out to take his arm, but Franco yanked it away.

  "I've done nothing wrong." His eyes became glossy as he looked at Lila. "I've done nothing wrong."

  "Liar," Lila muttered. "You sold me out."

  "Lila—"

  "You're going to humiliate me in front of the world by publishing that book," she cried. "How could you?" Lila couldn’t hold back her tears any longer although the moisture made her mascara run down her cheeks, making her look like a member of the band Kiss.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," he responded. His voice quivered as his eyes darted from Murray to the sheriff.

  "I've seen it," Lila accused him. "I've seen the book!"

  "Do you have any idea what I've given up because of you?" Franco finally broke down. Lila attempted to wipe her face, but settled for accepting Patrick's comforting embrace. "I have no social life. No hobbies. Family and friends I haven't seen in years. And I work non-stop for you. All so you can remind me on a daily basis what an incompetent assistant I am?"

  "Calm down, Sir." Murray waved a hand, but the gesture only made Franco more upset.

  "Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Franco shouted. "Writing a book isn't a crime. You can't arrest me for that."

  "But I can bring you in as a murder suspect." The sheriff stepped forward, making his intentions known. He flashed his handcuffs in front of Franco. "I think you better come with me before you do something else you might regret."

  "I may be guilty of a lot of things, but I would never hurt poor Donna." Franco shook his head.

  "You had no problem spying on her though," I accused him. "And texting her to meet you at the spa early."

  "Or trying to kill Essie for figuring out your little secret," Murray added. He winked at me, taking my advice to stand up for himself to heart.

  "I didn't do it," Franco firmly stated. "I will never admit to anything, because there's nothing for me to admi
t to."

  "So you didn't place that cupcake order using the name C. Darnay?" I asked. Franco's eyes widened when I mentioned his fake code name. He kept his mouth shut and instead turned his head as if the lot of us disgusted him.

  The sheriff reached for his arm, but Franco went from being completely still to flailing his limbs all over the place in a matter of seconds. He looked like a deranged octopus as he fell to the floor and kicked his legs to avoid being handcuffed. For the first time in probably years, Sheriff Williams had no choice but to use full force. He squatted to the floor and gripped Franco's arms like they were his infant children. His grasp was so tight and so strong that all of us were amazed at the strength harbored inside the old man. The sheriff pulled Franco to his feet like he was a weightless piece of notebook paper.

  Franco turned his head away from us, avoiding eye contact with his accusers. Lila sniffled and pulled herself out of Patrick's arms. She took a good look at Franco and briskly slapped him across the face. Bebe let out a yelp and Murray covered his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud.

  "You did do it, didn't you?" Lila looked nervously at Patrick. "You broke my heart when you signed that book deal, when you told me you thought Patrick and Donna were having some sort of affair…" Bebe gasped and placed her hand on her chest. "You swore to me that you were going to take care of it, and you did. You did it!"

  Franco looked her in the eyes and kept a straight face. The sheriff and Murray pulled him towards the elevators, and this time he followed them willingly.

  Lila sobbed into Patrick's arms. Her hysterical crying made us all keep our mouths shut. I knew I wasn't the only person wondering now if the wedding was still on.

  "Please," Lila pleaded. She pushed Patrick away and ran towards the elevator. It opened and the sheriff, Murray, and Franco stepped inside. "Just tell me why. Why did you kill her?"

  Franco looked at her directly without so much as a sorrowful expression. In fact, it seemed as though he was frustrated. He cleared his throat and continued watching Lila as the elevator doors closed. He said nothing in response to her accusation and his silence drove Lila mad.