When No One Was Looking (Sophie McGuire Mysteries)

by Jenny Rebecca Keech

  I stepped out of the shop into the cooling evening and stretched my arms over my head. I’d managed to stall any questions from a waiting Jane by telling her that she had been right: Johanna had flown the coop almost immediately and nestled herself straight in her shop in an uncommunicative manner.

  It wasn’t directly a lie and it was something Jane could understand. It was how she expected Butterfields to behave. I knew it wouldn’t last, though. Jane knows that eventually Johanna will spill something to me. I just have to figure out what I can say without bringing out Johanna’s secret. If this Rebekah Peterson has her way, though, pretty soon it won’t be a secret. The whole town will know.

  Once Jane realized that I didn’t have anything informative to add, she disappeared into the kitchen leaving me with a rush of relief that she wasn’t watching me work with calculating eyes. I spent the rest of the afternoon restacking the displays and selling. Now, I stared out into the blue and gray of the late day ocean and released a deep breath before inhaling the scent of damp saltiness. I could see the lights of SeaWatch along my far left, a waterfront retirement community started by the Merryweather Corporation two years ago.

  Merryweather. Ugghh. I love the fact that Merry Hill has managed to stay small and local when so many towns around us are busting at the seams with newcomers and tourists, becoming corrupted and dirty and losing their identity for money. Our stubborn attitude has proved hazardous to our health at times but we’ve managed to survive with slow but steady growth. Those on the town council board fight tooth and nail to keep a balance between home town values and healthy growth. There are many of us who don’t like drastic change.

  Well, change comes. About five years ago a group called Merryweather Corp. started buying up certain areas outside of town. It raised a few eyebrows, mine included. This mysterious corporation has put a lot of money into the restoration of several town areas and labeled it a ‘donation’. Yeah, right. So while some people aren’t sure about their motives, no one has any real complaints. Just this faint niggling suspicion that won’t go away. It would probably be less bothersome if I had the face and name of who is behind this sudden interest in our little community.

  It’s not that the Merryweather Corp. isn’t official and by all looks, aboveboard. They have an office across the courthouse but it’s manned by genial people who do what they’re told and have nothing informative or constructive to add above perfect smiles. I know. I do sound like Jane when she’s off on a conspiracy theory. But I can’t help it. There’s just something about those people that raise the hair on the back of my neck.

  Anyway, I’ve left Jane in her element bringing forth culinary chocolate delights in the kitchen. Johanna’s words stuck with me all afternoon and I wonder what it is she needs to discuss with me alone. I’m grateful I grabbed my sweater from the hook. It’s April and still very cool in the early evenings. The Chocolate Drop is situated on the waterfront next to the florist shop: Butterfields, of course. Jane loves the fact that she beat Thomas Butterfield on the rent for our shop. The florist store is smaller. There’s no way we could have made the sizable kitchen renovations we needed to if we hadn’t gotten to the space first.

  I dropped my gaze from the water and made my way around the corner and down the street across from the courthouse. The sidewalk leads up along Main Street. The night wrapped around me as I walked but there is nothing sinister about it. Just a cool spring evening in southeastern North Carolina and a serene walk under a sky full of stars. Stars seem to shine bright and crisp in the cold. All is quiet by the courthouse and the Sheriff’s department, but then again, what could top the excitement we’ve already had for today?

  It was past closing time so I used the key Johanna had given me and let myself in. “Jo,” I called out, “It’s Sophie.”

  “In the back.”

  When I popped my head through the curtain, I could see Johanna was in the process of unpacking several boxes. She turned and glanced in my direction with an absentminded glance. “Hey, Soph. How was your afternoon?”

  Something was on her mind. I shrugged. “Can’t complain. Business was good today.”

  “I know what you mean.” She nodded abstractly as she answered. There was a hesitation. She folded the lid on the box and turned around. “I have a favor to ask,” she began with a frown. “And you’re probably not going to like it.”

  Interesting way to start a conversation. I blinked, then leaned back against a side table. “Shoot.”

  Johanna bit her lip. It’s uncharacteristic of her. She paused and then continued quickly, “I want you to go with me to see Rebekah Peterson. Tonight.”

  I frowned, already shaking my head. “Uh, Jo—“

  She put up a hand to halt the argument she knew was coming. “I know. You’re going to try and tell me that I should stay away from her.”

  Duh. “Look. I don’t think I was the only one with Gabe this morning when he was handing out free advice. You heard him, and trust me when I say this: that was his serious voice.”

  “I am being serious,” Johanna interjected. “That’s why I’m asking you.” Her look turned desperate. “Please, Sophie. I need to do this. I need to know why this Rebekah Peterson believes what she does.” Her glance perked up. “And with you along, you can make certain I don’t do anything stupid.”

  Just great. Desperate was even worse than the puppy look Jane gives me. I tried reasoning. “Johanna, I don’t know. This whole idea seems, well maybe a tad…stupid. Yeah that’s it. Stupid.”

  Johanna gave me a piqued look. “Sophie,” she said calmly, “It isn’t stupid if its underlying purpose is to expose the exact reason this woman has come to town. I have to know what she’s got under her sleeve.”

  “Perhaps if you’d had this thought this morning,” I began dryly, “She might be more inclined to listen to reason. Now, she’ll probably call the sheriff the moment she sees you. You do remember that you did attack her.”

  “I was under duress and shock. I’ve had time to think over everything. I’m sure that I can sit down and discuss this with her in a rational manner.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that. Everything in me said, say no. But on the other hand, what are best friends for if not for sharing a jail cell together? That was something David would have had a chuckle over. Gabe would not be so inclined.

  Johanna could see my resistance dwindling. She grinned and shoved the box firmly on the shelf. “Good. I’ll grab my purse. I can finish this later.”

  I sighed and followed her out. “All right. But I just want to state out front that this is not a good idea and it appears to have the possibility to end badly. And by badly, do the words ‘jail cell’ ring a bell?”

  We walked through the entrance to the back room and Johanna moved up to the counter. She pulled out her purse. “Good. I’ll cover bail. Let’s go.”

  That should have warned me right there, but I walked out with her and watched her lock up. We made our way across the street, in the direction of the B&B. It was only a couple of blocks over. Streetlights sparsely lined the roads but I saw little movement. Illumination from the houses told me that most people were home, settled in for the evening. Not me. I’m headed straight for Gabe trouble with eyes wide open. I glance at her. “Please tell me that you’re not going to try and buy her off.”

  The furrow that appeared in Johanna’s forehead told me I was right. She shrugged. “Let’s just say that if the topic were to come up, I am prepared to be…charitable.”

  I groaned. “You know? She could accuse you of trying to pay her off. It would make it look even worse for your family if that were to come out.”

  “Leave this to me, Sophie. I recognize a person who simply wants money in their pocket. All I have to do is get her to take an amount. I don’t care what she wants the check for. It’ll prove that she’s what I know her to be. A money grubbing whore. And as soon as I can prove it, I’ll let the rest of the world know. It’ll stop any threat against my family she’s
brewing.”

  The heavy feeling in my stomach grew with each step I took. The moment we stepped through the doors, I saw Charlene Kirkwood’s eyes widen at the sight of Johanna on the premise. She didn’t look happy. I knew how she felt. Saying no to Butterfields can be difficult.

  “Johanna,” she choked out, “What a surprise to see you here tonight. What can we do for you?”

  “I’d like the number to Rebekah Peterson’s room, please.”

  Charlene Kirkwood looked like one of those fish in a tank you see at seafood restaurants. For several seconds her mouth opened and closed without sound. She swallowed hard. “Uh, Johanna,” she managed to croak out, “You know it’s kind of late. Perhaps you’d like to come back in the morning.” Her look brightened. “Yes, in the morning would be good.”

  Johanna stepped forward. With an elbow on the counter and her chin leaned against her knuckles, she stared thoughtfully upward. “You know, my cousin Zinny is getting married in several months. Mother had talked about using your B&B for any additional overflow our house couldn’t handle.” Johanna turned the full force of her stare at Charlene. “It would be a shame if we went with someone else instead.”

  Charlene blinked. A few seconds later, with lips compressed she turned and studied the computer screen beside her. Like she didn’t already know? It was just her way of showing she was pissed off by Johanna’s actions. I sighed, hating that I was involved in any of this. Charlene looked up. “Room 206. Near the end of the hall.

  “Thank you, Charlene,” Johanna stated sweetly. “I do appreciate your help.”

  Charlene’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need any trouble.”

  “Of course,” I answer before Johanna can irritate Charlene any more. “I’m here to make certain that everything stays calm and peaceful.”

  “It was already calm and peaceful,” I heard Charlene mutter as we made our way through the foyer and up the stairs. We walked down the sandy brown carpeted hall with its dark-stained wainscoting and stopped at 206. Like Charlene said it was the last room on the left, the fire exit door right beside it.

  Johanna reached out and tapped. Nothing.

  I tapped fingers nervously against one leg. “Maybe she’s in the shower?” I leaned over and grabbed hold of Johanna’s sleeve. “You know, Charlene did have a point. It is kind of late. Why don’t we view this as a sign and come back in the morning? Maybe everyone will be in better spirits after a good night’s sleep.”

  Johanna shot me a dirty look. “Unlikely,” she stated tightly and rapped harder. I watched as the door slipped open. We both stepped back and froze. I stared at the view afforded me: an end of a bed, beige carpet, a door that opened to the bathroom. The room appeared empty. The tension in my stomach eased. Only to grow as Johanna pushed the door inward with the gentle press of two fingers.

  “What do you think you’re doing,” I hissed.

  She shrugged. “You were the one talking about signs.” She points to the door. “This is a sign. If she’s not here, I say that we check out the room while she’s gone. Find out about this so called evidence.” Her whispered voice rose in excitement. “Who knows? Maybe we can steal it!”

  “Do you hear yourself?” I growled out low. I could already see myself answering to Gabe on theft charges. “What if she comes back?”

  Johanna shrugged again. I suddenly found the move irritating. “Then we say that we were simply looking for a sheet of paper,” she stated airily, “on which to leave her a note. There will be nothing she can say.”

  I was certain that Gabe would have something to say. I shook my head. “Oh, yeah. She’s so going to buy that,” I muttered. I grabbed at her arm.

  “This is too good of an opportunity to miss.” Johanna told me tautly as she shook my hand free and pushed the door inward. She stepped within.

  What was I supposed to do? I looked down the hall and cringed, already envisioning my arrest. I sighed, closed my eyes in a silent prayer and stepped in behind her. I saw immediately why Rebekah had been unable to answer the door. She was on her back, reclined on the beige carpet between the bed and the wall, her legs intertwined within the draped sheets and dark comforter, her highlighted hair spread out in a tangle. In a strange way she looked like she simply slid out of the bed during sleep, but her wide brown eyes stared vacantly at us and told the real story. It’s as if the light’s been turned off inside. Rebekah Peterson was very obviously dead.

  3

  Johanna and I sat in the vacant room across from 206 and waited for Gabe to step back inside. Well, I sat. Johanna paced the length of the room with crossed arms, her fingers a steady drum of agitation against her sleeve that made me grit my teeth in frustration. Her steady strides didn’t help the fixed tension already pounding within my skull to the words “dead body”. I couldn’t seem to block my last and only image of Rebekah Peterson. We’d…well, I’d already sat there thirty minutes; ever since Pete, Gabe’s lieutenant directed us across the hallway into 207. I could tell that Johanna was fuming, but I didn’t say a word. I just remember Pete’s slightly shell-shocked look. It’s understandable. This is a small town. We don’t get many murders. I mean, the last would have been…David.

  I shook my head at the thought, amazed, that even now I hesitated to say the word. It was as if I still expected him to walk through the front door, grin and look at me with his charming, sorry, I’m late look and say that it’s all been a silly mistake. But I knew it wasn’t going to happen. It had been over a year and the love of my life was gone and not coming back. I took a shuddering breath and sat huddled on the edge of the mattress. I rubbed my arms from a creeping, crawling chill and I tried to imagine the hit and run that killed him. I tried not to believe that a person could see what they had done and leave him lying there. Most of the time, I manage to tuck it into a small cubbyhole within my brain. You always know it’s there, but I can focus on daily living. David’s death is one of the few murders of Merry Hill that has never been solved. I have to live with that; with the knowledge that as more time passes the chances that his murder will be solved fall lower and lower. I usually managed not to dwell on these thoughts but a time like this brings it to the forefront rather quickly and I remember a night when I opened a door and instead of seeing David with some fascinating apology about being late, I see Gabe holding his hat in his hands and looking as uncomfortable as I think I’ve ever seen him.

  The door to the room swung open and Gabe frowned as he entered. Johanna finally stopped her pacing and glared daggers. He ignored her. His eyes flickered to mine. I knew at once that our minds dwelled on the same dismal thoughts. Gabe sighed and shut the door behind him but not before I caught a glimpse of Charlene Kirkwood in a dispute with Pete. I winced. Poor Johanna; Charlene would not easily let her forget this night. Gabe took his time, eyes brooding as he studied us. I knew I hadn’t committed murder, but I knew I’d rather be anywhere but here. Working Gabe and next-door-neighbor Gabe are two totally different people.

  He dressed as he always does. Comfortable. Tonight, Gabe wore his usual jeans and shirt under a vest with a sheriff’s badge pinned to one side. His dark eyes flickered to Johanna. “So, let me get this straight: You came up here and knocked on Ms. Peterson’s door, and when she didn’t answer, entered the room. This is correct?”

  I opened my mouth but Gabe held up his hand. “Not yet, Soph.” His tone was tired and soft but then it changed; hardened. “Johanna?”

  Johanna held her body stiff; her arms crossed defensively. “If you let Sophie speak, she’d tell you the same thing that I intend to. Yes, we knocked on Rebekah’s door and the door swung open. Apparently it wasn’t shut properly.” I tried not to wince at her subtle lie. She’d always been so much better at that than me. Johanna shrugged. “We were concerned so we stepped inside and called out. And that’s when we found the body lying on the floor. We started to step out to call the police but there you were, already on site thanks to little Ms. Busybody.”

  I quickly nodded.
I hoped to discourage any questions turned in my direction. To be truthful, we hadn’t actually called out before entering and Johanna had been hell bent on searching the room after we discovered the body. The only discouragement to that proposal being a commotion in the hall and the fact that Gabe had walked in with Pete. It appeared that after giving us the room number, Charlene had suddenly acquired a change of heart and called Gabe out of concern. He’d come right over. Little good that had done Rebekah Peterson.

  Gabe’s jaw tightened. “What happened to that little warning I gave you this morning, Johanna?”

  Johanna threw up her hands. “I came to talk, not to fight,” she said defensively. “Why do you think I brought Sophie? I didn’t want any trouble.”

  “I’ll deal with Sophie’s part in this in a minute.” He glanced at me. “You backing this up?”

  “Yes, Gabe.” Was it just me or did my voice sound slightly strained. “It happened just like Johanna said.”

  Gabe leaned against the door. “And neither of you did more than step inside the room and find the body?” He raised a brow. “Maybe someone wandered around, looking for who knows what?”

  Gabe was digging. For what, I wasn’t certain. I shook my head.

  “Of course not,” Johanna said indignantly.

  I tried not to roll my eyes at the sound of righteous anger in her voice.

  Gabe frowned. “Then ladies,” he stated softly, “We have a problem.”

  This soft tone in his voice is quite deceptive. Gabe normally uses it right before he closes in on an offender who he feels is lying to him. I should know. Ever since David’s death, the sheriff’s office has become my home away from home. Well, along with the shop. I’ve seen him use this technique time and again against offenders of all ages. It works every time. I could already feel myself sweating and I hadn’t done anything.

  Johanna too had gone quiet at Gabe’s voice. She stared at him, perplexed. “I don’t understand. We’ve told you everything. What kind of problem can there be?”