Dying to Keep a Secret: The India Kirby Witch Mystery (Book 6)

by Sarah Kelly

  Geoffrey was clearly fuming, but walked around the car and supported Muriel. She really did look incredibly weak. “What is it?” he spat back at India and Xavier.

  “You mentioned Laurence’s funny turn,” Xavier said. “What did you mean by that?”

  India was secretly hoping that Geoffrey would mention the drinking incident. After all, he did seem the kind of man to grossly overreact. But he turned with narrowed eyes and said, “Once I’ve answered this question, you will leave and not bother me anymore?”

  “Of course,” India said quickly.

  “Just before Felicia Drummond-Coe arrived, Laurence was found wandering the village at night by some dog walkers. When they stopped him, he was very confused and not himself. They called the ambulance who checked him over and took him in for overnight care in a psychiatric ward. Then he was released and he returned the next day. Now, goodbye.”

  ***

  It was only a short taxi ride to Gillingsborough’s only hotel, The Crabtree, as the golden sign said out front. India racked her brains after Xavier paid the driver and they stood on the sidewalk. “What did Mary say her alias was again? I remember the Arizona part. Not much else.”

  “Lori?” Xavier said, looking up at the small hotel, a smart townhouse with cream paint and stylish grey window frames that gave it a modern look. “Tori? No, it was definitely an L name. Lorna?”

  India shook her head. “We’re crazy. We can talk about all these outlandish theories all day long. Then when it comes to remembering a simple name we’re stumped.”

  “Louise?” Xavier tried again. “No, Lacey! That’s it. Lacey.”

  “Oh yeah!” India said. “Now you say it it’s like, duh!”

  He gave her a gentle flick on the side of her head. “Duh!”

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, yeah, Mr Private Investigator.”

  He did exactly the same back to her. “Yeah, yeah, Mrs Private Investigator.”

  “Excuse me, please,” clipped male tones said behind them, and they maneuvered their way to the edge of the sidewalk to let an annoyed looking business man clip past them in his patent brogues. “Thank you,” he said tersely, not meaning it at all.

  “Oops,” India said, making wide eyes at Xavier once the man was gone. “That’ll teach us for being childish.”

  Xavier made a face behind the man’s back. “Not me.” Then he held out his arm for India.

  She hooked her arm through his and they made their way up the short flight of steps leading to the entrance to The Crabtree.

  India loved what she saw when they got inside the lobby. It looked like a former grand house decorated by someone’s bohemian aunt. The elaborate plasterwork was still in place, but the wood paneling and grand staircase that would have once been dark brown were now painted in a gorgeous chalky gray-blue, lightening up the place. Most everything was in gray, gold, or that same chalky color that put India in mind of a fall sky.

  “Hello,” the young woman at the counter said with a smile. She was plump and smiley and so pleasant looking, with such a ‘big sister’ look about her that India couldn’t help but smile broadly back. “How can I help you lovely people?”

  The joy seemed to be catching because Xavier was smiling widely, too. “We’re here for a drink, I guess. Do you have a restaurant?”

  “Ooh, yes, we do.” India noticed her nametag read Sophie. “And…” she said, ducking underneath the counter and coming back up with a huge smile and two long slips of card, “…it’s your lucky day. We have a special on afternoon tea today, just £17.95 per person for a complete champagne afternoon tea. It’s usually £35, so that’s a really good deal.”

  “I’d love to,” India said. “What do you think, Zave?”

  “I’m still full from our crazy breakfast shenanigans,” he said. India wasn’t hungry herself, but had really wanted to sample an English afternoon tea and made puppy dog eyes at him. “Oh, all right,” he said.

  “Yes! This is like quintessentially British,” India said. “You come to England, you just have to have afternoon tea.”

  Sophie gave a hearty laugh. “You’re right there. Shame most English people never actually do it, though. If you wait there just a minute, I’ll go and check how we’re set for tables. The offer’s been pretty popular, so you might have to hang on for a few minutes. Would that be a problem?”

  “Not at all,” Xavier said.

  Sophie gestured toward an elegant seating area with light gray pinstripe armchairs in modern square styles, a glass coffee table and an enormous pale blue lamp. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll only be a moment.”

  It was only when Sophie hurried through a door that India remembered they were there to see Mary. “Oops, I got a bit carried away with that whole afternoon tea thing, didn’t I?”

  Xavier rolled his eyes at her in mock frustration as they sat down. “And yes, I was trying to dig us out of that hole by saying about lunch. What if she’s not here? We’ll be wasting all that time eating scones and drinking champagne.”

  “Wasting?!” India said, incredulous. “You can never waste time doing that.”

  Xavier tutted at her. “That’s not exactly investigating, is it?”

  India grinned at him, pulled out a glossy magazine from a newspaper rack beside her chair and opened it, nonchalant as ever. “Everyone knows, Zave, that without work-life balance, you’ll never get good quality work done. Rest is just as important as work. Scientists have found—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, laughing in spite of himself. She was glad that he did so she didn’t have to make up some random bogus fact. “Scientists have found that you’re talking total trash,” he said, grinning, then pinched her gently in the waist, which always tickled something terrible.

  “Don’t!” India said, pointing at him and trying to be dead serious. “Don’t you even dare, Mr Xavier Bradford!”

  CHAPTER 16

  “Here you are,” Sophie said when she came back, carrying two flutes of sparkling champagne that glowed golden in the light. India and Xavier got up from their places to take the drinks. “There’s a table freeing up in about five minutes. One of the best tables, actually, overlooking the flower garden. You’re okay to wait?”

  “Sure,” Xavier said, then took a sip from his glass. “By the way, one of our friends is staying here. Lori, I mean Lacey, sorry. Is she here right now?”

  “Oh, Lacey,” Sophie said, like she was fond of her. “Hmm, I’m not sure she is here, no. She’s been here for a little while and her routine’s always the same.” She made her way back to the front desk. “Gets up early, always the first one at breakfast, then she’s out for the whole day and the night shifters see her come in. She’s become fascinated with Aston Paddox, always taking pictures of the local architecture. I didn’t really even think about it until she started talking about it. I guess the stone houses and stuff are quite nice.”

  India nodded. “Yes, we’ve been staying there.”

  Sophie’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she said, “Oh, and have you seen Aston Paddox Hall?”

  “Yep,” Xavier said.

  Before he could say anything else, she’d started saying, “It’s incredible, isn’t it? Imagine living a life of luxury like that. I’d love to live like that. It would be like being a fairy princess, wouldn’t it?”

  India laughed. “I don’t think Laurence really lives in luxury, though.”

  “And he definitely isn’t a fairy princess,” Xavier said, laughing along.

  Sophie didn’t laugh. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh. You know Lord Drummond-Coe?”

  “A little,” India said, wondering why Sophie was so starstruck.

  “Uh!” Sophie said. “I would just love to rub shoulders with the super rich.” India laughed inwardly – appearances could be deceiving, huh? Laurence was far from rich. “Exciting, don’t you think? You know, he was here the other day and I only missed him because I changed my stupid shift to go t
o the dentists, and then my lip was swollen all day so I stayed at home. And then I had to take Friday morning off because my little girl had the sniffles and couldn’t go to nursery, so I couldn’t even see him leave. It’s like fate conspired against me meeting him.” She shook her head. “So unfair.”

  “He was here?” Xavier asked. “When?”

  “It was Thursday just gone,” Sophie said. “I tried to get all the scoop from Cheryl. So apparently this guy in a very posh white car dropped him off in the evening, and picked him up the next morning, too.”

  Tom, India thought. “Was there an art conference around here?” she asked.

  Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Oh yes! That’s what Cheryl said. He had some art conference and had forgotten something, I think he said, so had to go back to his enormous, wonderful, amazing mansion for it.”

  “Oh right,” India said, trying to sound casual. That matched up with Tom’s story. So why was Laurence still lying about that?

  When Xavier spoke, India could tell his mind was also running through the same things. “Did he just stay one night?” he asked.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” Sophie said. She sank her chin down onto the counter. “Otherwise I’d have seen him.”

  India gave her a smile. “Oh, I expect you’ll meet him soon. And I’m not sure you’ll be very impressed with him, to be honest. He’s a lovely guy, but not showy or flashy or anything. He’s kind of scruffy, actually.”

  “Ooh,” Sophie said, her eyes lighting up. “Like all the best eccentrics. Aristocrats are often very unkempt and ever so kind. It’s the new money that flashes the cash and talks down at the likes of the rest of the world. Especially service staff,” she said in a mock-posh accent.

  India rolled her eyes. “I worked in an upscale Italian restaurant when I lived in Wisconsin. I know exactly what you mean.” She’d been roped in by her best friend Amy when there were two vacancies going. In truth, India had hated just about all of it – the dishwashing, the waitressing, the relentless buzzing energy of the place that meant she had to run around all shift like a headless chicken. Amy, being an awesome cook, had gotten quickly promoted into the kitchen. But one day, when their waiter friend George couldn’t come in, Amy had to go back to serving tables. A particularly snooty customer had made a move on her. When she flatly rejected him, he’d scowled and told her she should be grateful that, as a mere waitress, she was being approached by someone with so much status. She’d managed to ignore that, but when he’d slapped her behind as she walked past, she’d turned and poured the jug of ice cold water she was holding all over him. That had been the end of that, and India had been more than glad to stalk out of Carlucciano’s behind her without so much as a single look back.

  Another customer came in the front door at that moment, and Sophie gave them a kind nod to let them know the conversation had to be over. Xavier and India went back to the couch and spoke in low voices as they sipped champagne.

  “Laurence is still lying,” India said. “Tom told us about him going back to the mansion to get art supplies, and now Sophie’s just corroborated it.”

  Xavier nodded. “It really doesn’t look good for him, does it? I mean, on the same night he told Liam to put the freezer up there? Do you really think that the bottom margin thing hold up?”

  “I don’t know. He really didn’t seem to write on the bottom margin, like, ever.”

  Xavier twisted his mouth in thought. “So that would mean someone else added it to the list. Who could that have been? Who would have been in the house?”

  “Well, Mrs Rowan would. Liam himself. I can’t think of anyone else. Although remember Laurence said they didn’t really have any security to speak of. I guess anyone could have just walked in.”

  Xavier nodded, then sank back in the armchair, deep in thought. “Wait,” he said. “Laurence lied again. He lied twice.” He shook his head. “It really doesn’t look good.”

  “What? When?”

  “He said he stayed at the conference center,” Xavier said. “Don’t you remember? He said he went to his room in the conference center that evening. I guess he thought we’d never follow up on all that and find out where he actually was.”

  India put her head in her hands and took a deep breath. “You know, this whole time I’ve just had this horrible sense of dread that it was him. And every time we saw evidence pointing towards that I just didn’t want to believe it. But I think my emotions might be getting in the way of this investigation.” She took another deep breath and blew it out in a resigned stream. “I think we should focus our efforts on Laurence now. On getting the evidence we need to nail him. Because… really and truly, I think Alexander could be in danger.”

  Sophie went through a door into the back of the hotel, and came out a few moments later with a bag in her hand. “Since you know Lord Drummond-Coe, you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor, would you?”

  “Of course, ma’am,” Xavier said. “What do you need?”

  “Cheryl told me he left this bag here and asked for it to be thrown away. But… well…” She blushed. “I hope you won’t repeat this, but Cheryl and I had a little look inside. And there’s… well, there’s a great deal of money in there. So we thought it wise to return it. She was going to drive over there this week but never got around to it. We could, still, if you wanted, or you could do it? You just look like very trustworthy people to me.”

  “We’ll take it to him right away,” India said, taking the bag. “Maybe we’ll have to skip afternoon tea for now.”

  Sophie frowned. “Are you sure?”

  Xavier nodded. “We’re not all that hungry anyway. We can come back and have tea another time. We’re not leaving for America yet.”

  “All right then,” Sophie said. “We hope to see you soon.”

  India gave her a smile as they got up and walked out quickly, desperate to see what was inside the bag. “Bye, Sophie. And if you see Lacey, please let her know we send our regards.”

  There was no way India and Xavier could wait until a cab arrived for them to delve into the bag and see what it contained. India had a dread at the pit of her stomach that told her it was definitely not something good. They hurried down the street, trying to look as casual as possible, while they kept a look out for a good nook or cranny where they could be alone.

  “Look, the park!” India said, pointing to a small park behind iron railings.

  Soon they were inside, hurrying over to a secluded spot behind a large oak tree.

  They couldn’t open it fast enough. India’s heart fell into her boots. The bag was stuffed full of Felicia’s clothes. A gold necklace that was obviously a woman’s. A long piece of cloth.

  “That could be the murder weapon,” Xavier whispered. “She was strangled.”

  And underneath all the clothes, they found wads and wads of cash. “Oh my gosh,” India said. “Do you think this is the twenty thousand?”

  “Looks like it,” Xavier said.

  He pushed his hand through some of the wads to see if there was anything left in the bag. Then he pulled up something that just didn’t make any sense. He frowned at the objects in his hand, and India frowned right along. Neither of them could make head or tail of it.

  ***

  India and Xavier had so been looking forward to the fundraiser, but now they were both dreading it. Still, they thought they should go. Most of Aston Paddox would probably be there, and they were sure they could glean enough information to finally nail Laurence. The evidence they had was damning, but something stopped them from rushing right down to Constable Middleton with it.

  “I just feel like there’s one thing missing,” India said as she slipped on a summer dress she had conjured, all pink and white swirls and flowers. The bright sunlight streamed through the window into Mrs Clitheroe’s guest bedroom from the creamy blue sky, but neither India or Xavier were in the good mood they’d expected to be in on fundraiser day.

  They walked to the Hall with Mrs Clitheroe, who was dressed
up to the nines in a large white floppy had like Southern ladies wear to church, and a lilac floral dress with white patent Cuban heels. Xavier asked if she wanted to get a taxi, but she flapped him away, saying, “Nonsense. People were asking me that twenty years ago. If I’d listened then, I’d have lost the use of my legs by now. No thank you, sir, we’ll walk.”

  So they did, and by the time they reached the pathway leading up to the Hall, many people from Aston Paddox had joined them. There was a sign out the front of the mansion, pointing around the side, reading EXHIBITION in hand painted letters.

  They followed where it pointed to, went through a wooden gate surrounded by a thick layer of hedge, then entered a part of the garden India and Xavier had not known existed.

  “Goodness gracious,” Mrs Clitheroe said, looking at the scene before them.

  They’d ended up in a large courtyard, where a fountain spurted in the middle into a gleaming pool of water. There were ancient looking stone walls, upon which Laurence had hung his paintings. Various sculptures, some like classical Ancient Greek figures, others large geometric shapes in a kind of modern-art style, stood in the middle of the courtyard. At the far end, Mrs Rowan stood by a long table, which was packed with teacups and cakes and champagne flutes and tiny delicate sandwich triangles. Tom and Mrs Stone tried to keep a handle on their gaggle of kids, but it didn’t seem to be going all that well as a boisterous game of tag was going on.

  A few people milled about, some already looking bored. But someone in particular, looking quite lovely in a flowing yellow dress, that caught their eye first.

  “Tasha!” they all exclaimed.

  She beamed, hanging onto Charlie’s arm. “Constable Middleton let me out,” she said. “He knows I’m innocent now. And he says he knows who actually did it.”

  “Who?” India asked quickly.

  Tasha shrugged. “I don’t know. Not me, thank goodness.”