When No One Was Looking (Sophie McGuire Mysteries)

by Jenny Rebecca Keech

  “This kind of problem,” Gabe stated as he held out his left hand. “Recognize it?”

  It was an earring. The weight in my stomach intensified. Johanna walked over and studied it, but I didn’t have to. I recognized it immediately. Johanna has a pair of silver clip earrings that her mother Elenora gave her at Johanna’s debutante ball. They’re initialized with a J and a B on the smooth front. Johanna wears them with everything. Gabe held one of them now between two fingers. If I recognized it, I knew that Johanna did too.

  Johanna looked up. “So I dropped an earring. You know I wear them every day.”

  I noticed, though, that Johanna looked troubled by the discovery. Both of her earlobes were bare.

  Gabe continued to watch her as he spoke. “This particular earring was discovered on the other side of the room on the writing table. It was lying by the phone.” He turned and looked at me. “Did you see Johanna go over there when you were with her?”

  I stared at him and then switched my gaze to Johanna who suddenly seemed dumbstruck. I turned back to Gabe. My mouth opened but no words came out. The evening had suddenly taken a much sharper turn than expected.

  “Sophie?” Gabe asked again.

  I hated what I was about to say. My words seemed to come from far away. “No. We never went in more than a few feet from the door; just where the body was found.”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe in the excitement my earring flew off without me realizing it,” Johanna threw out defensively.

  Both Gabe and I gave her a strange look over that one.

  “Across the room to land perfectly beside the phone,” Gabe ground out. His jaw was tight again.

  “I don’t know,” she snapped, waving her hand, “the earring could have fallen off anywhere, even the diner where we had the scuffle. Anyone could have picked it up. I don’t know how it wound up here.”

  What an interesting thought. I tried to corral Gabe’s temper. “Gabe. I was here with Johanna,” I added. “She didn’t kill this woman. I think I would have noticed.”

  Gabe’s eyes hadn’t left Johanna’s face. They didn’t move even as he continued, “I’ll wait to see what kind of medical opinion Chloe or Jonathan have to give but it doesn’t look like she just died. I’m guessing that it was around an hour, give or take.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “See. Johanna and I weren’t even here then.”

  “Where were you, Johanna, about an hour to an hour and a half ago?” He studied her, waiting for the answer.

  There was a tightening in her expression. “At my shop,” she spoke shortly.

  “Anyone verify that?”

  Her look was incredulous. “You can’t be serious. I did not kill that woman.”

  Gabe’s stare was noncommittal. “You’re the only person I’ve got with any apparent grudge. Would you like help me out with another name, someone else that might not like Ms. Peterson being in town?”

  Sure. And they all share the same last name: Butterfield. I kept these thoughts to myself – It wasn’t my story to tell. Instead, I tried to deflect. I stared at Gabe in exasperation. “Gabe, Johanna’s been at her shop putting out new material all evening. Who can verify that? I don’t know but I showed up around eight. We talked a bit and then walked over to the B&B. If what you’re saying is true then Johanna would have just managed to slip back into her shop right before I got there. That would be cutting it a little close since she was expecting me earlier in the evening.” The last part was a fudge but if there was one thing I knew it was that Johanna Butterfield was not a murderer. A pain in the rear on the rare occasion? Sure. But a murderer? No way.

  Gabe looked at the earring in his hand. “I’ll be holding on to this for right now.” His glance took in both of us. “I hope you two aren’t holding anything else back. This is serious. It is a murder investigation.” Dark eyes raked Johanna. “Not something easily swept under the rug.” His look was still intent as he glanced back at me. “Both of you might want to think about that. Either of you remember something important, anything at all? Come to me.”

  “Can I go?” Johanna stated through clenched teeth. She’s not used to being spoken to like that and doesn’t react well to it. Actually, none of the Butterfields do. Must be a family trait.

  Gabe sighed and threw up a hand. “Fine. We’ll go from here tomorrow.” He looked at Johanna. “I know I don’t have to tell you this but be available if I need to ask you anything further. That means no unexpected trips out of town overnight.”

  I thought Johanna might have an apoplectic fit right then and there. Johanna glanced at me. “I’m sorry about this, Sophie,” she stated brusquely. She looked like she wanted to say more but abruptly moved to the door, swung it open and slipped through. I heard Charlene call her name but Johanna rushed by without a word and went down the hall. That left me and Gabe. And all I seemed to be able to do was stand there with my mouth open.

  Gabe walked over to the bed and sat beside me. He sighed and gave me an unhappy glance. “What were you thinking? You knew it was a bad idea for Johanna to come over and see this woman.”

  I felt tired and drained. I shrugged. “I couldn’t stop her. I thought it would be better if I was at least with her as a neutral third party.” I slid him a sideways glance, concerned. “You don’t honestly believe Johanna killed this woman, do you?”

  Gabe brushed his hand tiredly back and forth through his short hair. “I don’t know what to think. People kill every day, Sophie. And trust me, many of them woke up without the knowledge of what they were about to do. Things happen.”

  “But this is Johanna,” I stated incredulously.

  “Yes, Johanna,” he shot back. “Who happens to be the only person so far on my list of who might want this Rebekah Peterson dead. Adding to the fact that her earring was found in the room doesn’t help. If you have someone or something to add that might help her case, trust me. I’m willing to listen.”

  The truth was that the knowledge I carried wouldn’t help Johanna, it would probably be the nails in her coffin. I gave him a half smile and lied. I hoped he’d think the stress in my voice was because of the evening’s events. “No. Not really,” I said weakly. “Can I go? It’s late and the kids have got to be worried.”

  His dark coffee eyes narrowed. If he thought I was lying, though, Gabe didn’t say a word. He just stood and gave me a hand. It was strong and warm on my chilled fingers. Gabe frowned when he clasped my hand. “You sure you’re okay, Sophie?”

  I appreciated his concern. “Yeah. This just wasn’t how I thought my evening would go.”

  “Yeah.” For a second Gabe hesitated like he wanted to say something. Whatever it was, it passed. He placed a hand on my shoulder and walked me to the door. “Go home, Soph. Take care of your kids. And don’t forget, I’ll see you early in the morning.” There was a sudden touch of amusement in his tone at his reminder.

  Tuesday morning. Rats, I’d forgotten. “If you’re going to be busy,” I added nervously, “We could postpone until another day?”

  A smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Now you know I wouldn’t miss that. The work will still be there when we’re done.”

  Standing in the doorway, Gabe motioned toward the fire exit with a hand. “Why don’t you go out the back? Less prying eyes.”

  I studied the exit door beside us. “Could someone have gotten in that way?” I asked curiously.

  Gabe shook his head. “Already checked. It’s designed to stay unlocked on this side and let people out in case of fire but it stays locked on the outside to prevent someone from burglarizing a room. Or, doing what happened tonight,” he added.

  “So someone couldn’t have snuck in this way—”

  “But yes, someone could have snuck out,” he finished, voicing my thought.

  “Toward your earlier suggestion? Thanks, but no. Busybodies will make up whatever they want to anyway and I have nothing to hide.” I stepped through the doorway, then turned back. “See you in the morning
, Gabe.” I made my way down the hall. The door that led to Rebekah’s room was sealed with yellow tape. That had to be what Charlene was arguing about with Pete. To give her credit, it doesn’t really match the atmosphere she and Michael try to create at A Stone’s Throw. On the other hand, it is rather difficult to hide a murder. And Charlene is one of the biggest gossips in town. By morning there would be few people who didn’t know that Johanna and I had been discovered in the presence of a dead body; the dead body of a woman with whom Johanna’s had an earlier serious altercation. Pete met me on my way down the steps. He gave a slow nod as we passed, his face drawn. The image of the long black bag in his hands stayed with me as I continued by.

  Charlene was already on the telephone when I walked toward the foyer. I could hear her speaking to whomever about the cost of renovating an entire room. Even without an audience, she sighed and waved an arm dramatically. She walked with the cordless phone away from the desk and into the guest den area. I took it as a divine sign and slipped out to walk down the drive.

  My thoughts were in a whirl. Whoever had killed Rebekah had to have slipped inside and made their way past Charlene. I had proved it wasn’t difficult. I wondered what names Charlene might have given Gabe about the B&B’s floor traffic that evening. The night had cooled even more and I shivered as I made my way across the Butterfield Library parking lot. To the right of it was the medical clinic. I could see a few vehicles and several lights. I wondered who Gabe had been able to round up. Dr. Chloe Saito lived across the street from the clinic, a block up from mine. But she’s been out of town lately giving lectures at her old college. Dr. Jonathan Maxwell lived farther out of town but he’s used to coming in at a moment’s notice. He’s been our main doctor for nearly forty years.

  My feet were nearly silent as I trudged down the sidewalk along Third Street to where it connected to Main, but My mind was not. Thoughts jumbled together as I tried to make sense of this fiasco. I’ve known the Butterfields all my life and I can’t imagine any of them as killers. Then I think of David and realize that there’s already been one killer in our midst, could there be another? I wonder as I walk if there’s another reason, besides the one Johanna spoke of, that caused Rebekah death. I sighed. How did a woman get murdered days after her arrival, who for all purposes had been a total stranger to everyone in town? By some action or event, Rebekah had apparently drawn the wrong attention to herself. I shook my head in confusion. I was too exhausted to figure out the quagmire in which Johanna now found herself. Maybe with the morning would come a revelation on the incident. For tonight, I let it go.

  My house backed up to Gabe’s, who overlooked Chloe’s, and was on the opposite side of the library from the B&B. The upstairs appeared dark but several lights were still on in the bottom level. The porch light was on and lit my path. I made my way across the street in the dark to the other curb, and down the stone walk to the steps leading to the wide porch, with its double posts every eight feet apart. The middle was open with wide, matching wood steps. There were railings the rest of the way around the porch. I trudged up the smooth oak boards as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my house key. It slid in smoothly and the door opened with a creak as I slipped inside and pushed it closed. I tried to be quiet for the kids’ sake and mine own. Fun does not even begin to describe trying to put seven year old twins down after they’ve already been in bed once. Inside the front door, I stepped directly into a large great room the width of the house. I loved the space. When David was alive it had screamed family. There was a silence inside now that felt eerie and I moved quickly as I quietly slid off my sweater and eased my shoes off and to one side.

  “Mom?” a soft, sleepy voice spoke to my right. I turned quickly. Paige was curled up in the chair by the door, her head raised as she squinted in the light from a side lamp.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” I said quietly, “what are you doing up this late?”

  She shrugged, unusually subdued. She blinked one more time and sat up. I watched as her eyes flickered to the grandfather clock behind me. “Where have you been? You’re not usually this late at the shop.”

  I hesitated. I hated to bring up what happened, even though I knew it would be all over the town by tomorrow. “Your Aunt Jo needed my help.” Jo’s title is honorary, as is Jane’s. And Johanna lived on Third Street too, right across from me. The kids were always at her house. I decided to fudge my story a little, “Johanna just got in a new spring shipment.” I knelt by the chair. “I’m sorry I was late. Everything took longer than I expected.” That part was true.

  Paige was silent as she studied me. Her auburn hair, so like mine except for its length, was braided down her back and she was dressed in flannels. Finally she spoke. “It bothers me when you’re this late, mom.” She hesitated. “I sent the boys to bed at nine, so they didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary but when you’re late like this,” There was a pause, “All I can think of is dad.”

  I drew my head back in surprise. I hadn’t realized. It suddenly hit me that I had frightened my daughter. “Oh sweetheart, Paige,” I said, kneeling as I wrapped my arms around her and she held me tight. She was definitely upset. I’d used sweetheart several times now and she hadn’t rolled her eyes once or said ‘mom’ in that tone that only a fourteen year old girl can. I rubbed her back with my hand. “How long have you been feeling this way about me being late?”

  Paige drew back and I let her go. Her fingers trailed the dark red corduroy fabric of the chair as she spoke. “It’s not often or anything like that, mom. It’s just that there are times like tonight when you’re so late that I tend to think about the night when Gabe came to tell us about dad. That’s all.”

  That’s all? I sighed. Her words were reminiscent of my own thoughts just a short time ago. I leaned in and tilted her chin with the tip of my finger so that I looked in her eyes. I decided to go for honesty. My daughter deserved that. “There was a murder tonight at the B&B.”

  Paige’s mouth dropped open. “No way,” she exclaimed out loud.

  I winced at the loudness, expecting at any moment to hear the drum of little feet on the stairs and a pair of voices.

  Paige must have seen my face because her next words were spoken lower. “Who, mom?”

  I patted her knee. “No one you know, a stranger who happened to be staying there.”

  She frowned. “Were you with Gabe?”

  Even my children knew of my habitual stops at the sheriff’s office. I decided to hedge again. “Uh, no. Like I said,” wording my words with care, “I was with your Aunt Jo.” That was technically the truth. I had gone to the bed and breakfast with Johanna.

  “Oh.” For some inane reason my daughter sounded disappointed but at least the worried tone was out of her voice.

  I patted her knee again. “Thanks for waiting up. You’re right about me being so late. I’ll make sure I call next time but now it’s time for bed. You’ve got school in the morning.”

  “But, mom, who did it?” Paige grumbled as she rose and we walked out of the great room to the bottom of the stairs down the hall. “Who would kill some stranger who just arrived?”

  I shut off lights as we went. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” I said, “but Gabe will, and soon.”

  “I locked the doggy flap and let Dude out a little while ago when he bounded down the stairs and bumped that big Golden Retriever head of his on the door. He should be good till morning.” Paige nodded toward my bedroom. “Comet’s already made himself at home,” she whispered.

  I groaned but nodded and pushed Paige sleepily toward the stairs. She leaned back and slipped me a goodnight kiss before complying with a heavy-eyed trudge up the treads. I continued down the hallway and into the master bedroom. And indeed, Comet had made himself at home. Unfortunately he hogs the space and he was spread out across the middle of the bed. At least he was a Basset Hound. I’m not certain what I’d have done if he’d been a Great Dane; probably buy another bed. Comet was making soft snuffling noises that
broke occasionally into his gentle rhythm of breathing. More than likely he was dreaming of being on some great chase.

  I gently closed the door, walked into the bath, peeled the clothes off my body and turned the water on full force in the shower. I needed the hot spray to relax if I didn’t want to be gaping at the ceiling all night and look like death warmed over in the morning. I made a face at the mirror, watching my slender runner’s form, which had never morphed into lush, romantic curves, slowly being obscured by the steam.

  I moved back through the bedroom, grabbing clothes as I went. I had fallen in love with this room the moment I’d set foot in it, because of its spacious and open quality. Most of the house was designed in the same manner. Another winning point about the master bedroom had been the private porch leading off from it, one of many decorating the house. There was the wide front porch, a side porch leading to an entry hall and the stairs, a screened one off the kitchen area and dining room that had an outdoor fireplace, and the one that connected to the master bedroom.

  Now that David was gone though, sometimes the open airiness bothered me. It wasn’t bad when the kids were around but with them gone to school, playing or studying at the library, the house was as empty as a tomb. It had a hollow feel to it I couldn’t seem to fill. It was one of the reasons I spent more time at the shop, or explained my frequent stops to the sheriff’s office. What I hadn’t thought about was the fact that my kids might be seeking their own solace to David’s death. Or, at least Paige. The twins appeared to have bounded back quicker over their father’s death, but they had such a deep bond with each other that it was hard to see where Simon ended and Steven began.

  Steam had obscured everything when I finally stepped into the shower and let the hot water do its work. Ten minutes later I stepped out and toweled off quickly before dressing. I tried to let my brain shut down and not dwell on thoughts of the evening and tomorrow’s consequences as I turned off the lights and climbed under the sheets and comforter, pushing Comet more to David’s side even though he’d wiggle his way back to mine before morning. I turned my head to the left and ran my hand down David’s pillow slowly before snuggling in, facing his side. I reached over and let my right hand linger where his face would have been. I must have been more tired than I thought – that’s the last thing I remember before the birds, the morning sun, and a set of hungry twins woke me.