“I never gave her explicit instructions about today. I just told her a time to be here and texted the address. I didn’t even think to go into more detail than that. My guess is she got lost, and tried to come into the manor.”
“That would make sense. The front door rang, but by the time I got upstairs to answer it, no one was there.”
“Did you hear or see anyone in the manor after that?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I was busy running back and forth from the kitchen. I was trying to do some cleaning while things cooked, you see. I want the manor to be spotless for the Christmas holiday next month, and it takes a lot of work. Some places are hardly ever touched, like the security office. Besides buzzing in guests, it’s sort of a mess.”
Sonja knew there was an office with remote controls to open the estate’s front gate. However, she’d personally never been in the room. In fact, there were many rooms she’d never been into throughout the manor. It was so big that she’d not ever taken the time for it.
Suddenly, Sonja’s face scrunched up in confusion, a thought passing over her mind. “Gram, how did you know who was here if you didn’t ask them their names over the intercom?”
He shrugged. “Simple. I saw them over the security camera footage.”
Slumping back and leaning on her arms, she sighed in frustration. “Security cameras, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Ms. Sonja?”
“Are there more security cameras than the one at the gate?”
The butler raised an eyebrow. “A few, yes. However, some of them haven’t been on for years. Ms. Belinda was in the process of having new cameras installed, which meant shutting off most of the old ones, but she never actually got around to it. I left two or three key ones running and shut off the rest at her request.”
“Key ones?”
“Yes, the front gate and the front door.”
“Did you tell Frank about the cameras?”
“Why, no. As far as I knew, no one else came in through the front gate and I assumed it was the only camera that mattered, seeing as most of the others aren’t even on.”
“Don’t you see, this could help us prove someone else was here,” she told him.
“I doubt either of those two cameras caught anything significant.”
“I want you to show me to the security room,” she insisted.
“I thought the sheriff required us to stay in the cottage?”
“I want to see if we can dig up anything on that security footage over the last few hours that can help clear you. Then we can tell Frank what we found.”
CHAPTER 12
* * *
Gram was reluctant at first, but finally agreed to take her to the manor. He was worried about keeping order, about doing the right and proper thing, but also ultimately wanted to clear himself of any suspicion around the murder.
They had snuck out the back door of the cottage so as not to be seen by any of the people sitting in the dining room. The next step was to rush around the cottage to the front before any of the deputies saw them. It wasn’t that Sonja was worried about getting in trouble, but she wanted a look at the day’s footage without having to answer a bunch of questions.
In a matter of seconds, they were at the front door of the manor house without much incident. Between the large building and the shrubbery, they had very little possibility of being seen.
“This way, Ms. Sonja,” he whispered, motioning for her to follow.
Unlocking and stepping through the large front door and into the entry hall, they instantly headed up the wide staircase to the second floor.
“Through here,” the butler informed, leading her to a large metal doorway at the end of the hall. Turning the handle and easily stepping inside, he held the door for Sonja to enter.
She was immediately greeted by an audience of televisions, all sitting in two rows one on top of the other. None of the screens were presently on, and Sonja could only assume it was because the cameras weren’t on either—just as Gram had mentioned. She prayed that some of them were still capturing footage somehow.
However, she wasn’t holding out hope. These TVs weren’t flat screens, they were gray mammoths of another technological era. Old VHS tapes lined up on a shelf in the corner confirmed her beliefs.
This room, while still slightly functional, was ultimately a tomb honoring the nineties.
“As I said. This room is a cluttered mess.”
The only slightly modern piece of technology was a computer, set up in front of the televisions, with its screen on and showing the current footage of the front gate.
“See? As I told you, Ms. Sonja. The only cameras that are on are the front gate and door.” He mentioned to the illuminated screen.
“Are you positive? I thought you said one or two others might be running still.”
Sitting in the squeaky swivel chair, Gram turned toward the computer. “This is an old system. Some of it isn’t even working anymore. Belinda’s father never bothered updating it while he was alive, and Belinda herself instructed me to shut it down since it was sucking up unnecessary energy until she could get the new camera’s installed.”
“Can’t you just check?”
“Very well, Ms. Sonja. I’ll check.” Grabbing a hold of the mouse, he began clicking through a few different screens.
“That computer looks slightly newer. You had to have at least updated that.”
“Yes, the computer was replaced. It links the whole system, but nothing else was updated yet. As I said, we were in the process.” Pulling up a list of all the cameras on the screen, he began clicking through them. One by one he was greeted with an error that read: No Signal.
“Anything? Anything at all?” Sonja urged, keeping a close watch as Gram made his way through the list.
A few more clicks of the mouse and the butler was done. “No. Nothing. They are all off.”
Sonja sighed, slumping into a second nearby chair. “I thought for sure we’d find something.”
“I’m afraid not. This was why I was hesitant to leave the cottage. It was all for naught.”
Sonja sat straight, holding her index finger up. “Hold on. Maybe not. Is it possible for us to look back at today’s footage of the gate camera?
Gram’s stern face twisted up slightly in thought. “You believe it caught something?”
“How else will we know unless we look?”
Turning back to the screen, he pushed the button to rewind the footage.
“Can you make it go faster?”
Pushing the rewind button again, the pace increased. Grey and white blips of Kyle’s car leaving and pulling in whizzed by, followed by the image of the emergency vehicles.
There was a long break of nothing, and Sonja was getting ready to give up hope, when something small caught her eye. “Hold it. Hold it. Stop it right there,” she insisted.
Gram hit the pause button. “What did you see? I didn’t see anything.”
“Go forward a bit,” she ordered.
He pressed the forward button.
“Stop.”
Pausing it again, Gram looked close, trying to see what it was she’d spotted.
“Right there,” she whispered, pointing at the screen.
“What is it?” he asked.
It wasn’t readily recognizable, but Sonja was sure it was a car. “Play it back again.”
He followed her instructions. It was barely recognizable, but in the distance, it appeared like something had moved.
“I think someone pulled off to the side of the road before reaching the estate.”
“But why?”
“So, no one would notice them sneaking up.”
A sudden beeping noise caused both to jump back from the screen. At the same time, a small device on the butler’s belt buzzed. “What’s that?”
Gram raised an eyebrow. “Someone is at the gate ringing the intercom. I have this buzzer connected to the system so I don’t have to remain here
in this room all the time.”
“You closed the gate again?”
“After the incident with the young man earlier, I made sure it was shut.”
“Who could it be?”
Moving back in toward the screen, he clicked a button to bring them to the live feed. An older gentleman was staring in at the screen, a furrowed brow adorning his face.
“Good heavens.”
“Do you know who that is?” Sonja asked, not recognizing the man at all.
For a moment, Gram seemed dumbfounded. Finally, he gave a firm answer. “If I’m not mistaken, that is Tabatha Rondo’s father.”
CHAPTER 13
* * *
“Should I let him in?” Gram asked, his finger hovering over the open button for the gate. “After all, it is his daughter who ended up in the oven.”
“No, not yet,” Sonja ordered.
“Madam?”
“Just hold on.”
“Ms. Sonja, he has a right to know about his own daughter.”
“No, not yet. Just ask him what he wants,” she told him, pointing at the button marked: intercom.
Gram hesitated and then pushed the button. “Hello, sir. How may I help you today?”
“Excuse me, but I’m looking for my daughter, Tabatha Rondo. I have it on good authority that she is here,” he spoke in a very distinct and proper British accent.
Taking his hand off the intercom, Gram looked up at Sonja for direction.
“Let me talk to him,” she insisted, pushing forward and pressing the button. “Mr. Rondo, I presume?”
“Phillip Rondo, yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Sonja Reed and I’m the caretaker of this property.”
“I see. Then, am I correct in my assumption that my daughter is here?”
Sonja hesitated, trying to carefully formulate her answer. “Well, I did invite her to eat Thanksgiving dinner with us this evening.”
Phillip nodded. “Ah, then the young lady was right.”
“What young lady?”
“When I stopped by Tabatha’s apartment, no one was there. I asked the apartment manager and she informed me to come here.”
“Well, she was right to do so. However, Tabatha isn’t available at the moment.” It was all completely the truth, even if a little misleading.
“So, she isn’t here?” he asked, leaning in farther toward the camera. “You see, I’m a little worried about her. I ran into some young man claiming to be her boyfriend, he helped direct me to the apartment. He seemed a little off kilter to me.”
Sonja rolled her eyes. It looked like Tabatha’s father had managed to track down Kyle, the obnoxious boyfriend.
“As I said, she isn’t available at the moment.” She didn’t know what else to do. If she ran and grabbed Frank, he’d know she’d been sneaking around again when he’d told her not to. She didn’t want to upset him.
“Are you sure she isn’t available?”
“Positive, sir.”
“Well, that isn’t very helpful, is it?” he scoffed, his nose twitching slightly. Sonja found it odd that she could see him but he couldn’t see her. “And who the devil is the man I was just talking to?”
“My butler.”
“Is he British? He sounded it.”
“Indeed, I am, sir,” Gram answered for himself.
“Ah, very good.”
Sonja had a strong feeling that Phillip didn’t believe her one bit when she’d said Tabatha wasn’t available.
“Perhaps you can help me. What is your name?”
The butler hesitated. “Gram, sir,” he replied, careful not to give his last name.
“Gram, maybe you can give me a straight answer.” The man squinted his eyes at the camera, as if trying to look into the butler’s soul. “Has there been a young woman running around the estate today, originally from England?”
With wide eyes, and a look of desperation, the butler glanced up at Sonja for help.
It was a gesture that was out of place for the usually staunch and expressionless man. Needless to say, his pride usually kept him from seeking help or answers from anyone. However, Sonja wondered if the two families’ history together was causing some discomfort for the butler.
What exactly had happened with Gram’s father and the Rondo family all those years ago?
Sonja instantly felt bad for even putting him in this situation, and desperately tried to think of a way out for him.
“What’s going on in here?” a man’s voice demanded from the open doorway.
Gram and Sonja both stood bolt upright, turning to face the sheriff who was standing in the doorway. His arms were folded over his chest and the scrunched-up way his eyebrows looked told them he was none-too-happy about the fact that they’d left the cottage.
“Frank,” Sonja gasped.
“Hello? What’s going on in there?” Phillip demanded over the intercom speaker. “I’ve spent the last two hours looking for her, and I believe she’s in there. Now, are you going to show me in, or not?”
Sonja was at a loss for words.
“Mind telling me why you’re in here?” Frank pressed, stepping forward and looking Sonja in the eye. He didn’t have to ask any questions to know that leaving the cottage to do a little “private investigating” had been his girlfriend’s idea.
“Sir, this is my fault,” the butler jumped in, trying to defend the young woman.
“Gram, stay out of this.”
“Frank, please,” she whispered, trying to formulate a way to explain her actions to him. Maybe apologizing was the best course of action.
“Sonja,” he snapped, a flush coming across his cheeks.
She’d seen him angry on several occasions, but never quite like this. In this case, she knew she’d overstepped her bounds again.
“Look, the building has a security camera on the front gate. I just thought that maybe Gram and I could find something useful to help you out,” she offered, putting a hand up calmingly on his chest.
Frank wasn’t standing for it and took a step backward.
Next, his scornful gaze settled on Gram. “And you didn’t feel it was necessary to mention the security footage to me when we talked earlier?” he accused the man.
“Sir, if I thought it would contain something useful, I certainly would have come to you.”
Frank’s gaze shifted between the two. “Clearly, that isn’t the case, since you brought up a normal civilian instead to go through the footage.” It was apparent that Frank still thought Gram was the most likely suspect. Therefore, bringing him up to the security room could be considered tampering with evidence or even conspiring with a criminal.
It was a bad situation, Sonja now realized.
“He never even thought of it as a possibility until I asked him,” Sonja pointed out, a hint of strength returning to her voice. She refused to let her own actions incriminate her butler further in this odious murder case.
“And, Ms. Sonja may have potentially found something, Sheriff. If you’re only willing to look.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be having one of my men go through all the footage without assistance from either of you.”
“Hellloooo. Is there anybody in there still? Where. Is. My. Daughter?” Phillip called again from the front the gate, punctuating each word with an irritated pause. His voice had deepened into an angrier tone with each passing second he had to wait. Clearly, he had been attempting to hold back his overall frustration at first, but his patience had hastily grown too thin to bother.
Frank scowled, stepping past them to look at the screen. “Who is that?”
Sonja nervously wrung her hands together. “That’s Phillip Rondo. Tabatha Rondo’s father.”
Frank turned away from the second and looked at Sonja with a raised eyebrow. “I guess that makes things simpler. Let him in. I’ll go a greet him at the gate.” He headed for the doorway.
“Yes, sir,” Gram bowed, punching the button to automatically open the gate.
<
br /> “And I want you two back at the cottage this instant.”
Both silently hung their heads as they left the manor.
CHAPTER 14
* * *
Things were looking more and more confusing each passing minute.
Sonja already felt partially responsible for Tabatha’s death, if she hadn’t invited the poor young woman to dinner, she would have never ended up in the oven, but felt sadder having made Frank so mad and disappointed.
Worse yet, if her nightmares were truly a ghostly warning, she had neglected her responsibility as a medium by ignoring them. Someone or something sinister was living in the manor’s kitchen and it had more than likely gotten ahold of Tabatha.
Perhaps an influence from beyond the grave had pushed the murderer into action.
Finally, that brought up the pertinent question: Who was the murderer?
Now, sitting on the edge of her bed in the master bedroom, her mind was reeling with curiosity at the strange string of harrowing events that had been developing in a matter of only a few short hours.
Who in their right mind would want to kill Tabatha? What possible reason could there be for such an awful crime?
Kyle Perdue had claimed to be Tabatha’s boyfriend, but was that true?
The victim had told Sonja only the day before that she had an ex-boyfriend, someone she’d broken up with over an argument about a rare painting.
Was it possible that Kyle had been desperate enough to get that painting to kill Tabatha? If that were true, wouldn’t it have just been easier to go to her apartment and steal it? Why go to all the trouble of following her to the estate, sneaking over the fence, and risking being seen?
No, it just didn’t make much sense.
Besides, he seemed far too stupid to be a criminal. Heck, he couldn’t even figure out that the path heading up to the Smith Estate wasn’t a public road at all. He truly seemed to believe that it was supposed to be a through road. Was that a truthful representation of his character, or was it all an act to cover up his murderous activities only a little earlier that same day?
Thanksgiving Waffle Murder Page 6