“What are you thinking now?” Marc leaned closer for a better look.
“I’m now thinking that whatever the killer has been looking for . . . the key is the answer.”
“Or it’s the key itself,” piped in Serena.
Addie nodded. “You know, you might be right. We just have to figure out what it opens.”
Marc’s phone rang again. “Damn, I’ve got to go. I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear anything else.” He flashed them both a look of warning and plucked the evidence bag from Addie’s fingers. “I’ll take that back now, thank you, and you two stay out of trouble.” He turned around at the doorway and called back, “Do you hear me?”
Addie saluted. He shook his head and disappeared out the door.
“Now what?” Serena scanned the board. “I don’t feel like we’re any farther ahead, except that I have all the names straight now.”
“We start by the process of elimination. That’s what I do in my research, and it seems to work well.”
“But how do we eliminate any of these people? We don’t even know how they’re connected.”
“We have a couple of obvious links so far, and they might lead us to others. I’m going to start by calling Catherine Lewis and accepting her invitation.”
“Be careful. Remember what Marc said.” Serena frowned. “And you promised no investigating on your own.”
“I’m not investigating.” Addie winked. “I’m going for tea.”
* * *
A few hours later, Addie made her way up the winding sidewalk of Catherine’s nineteenth-century, two-story, saltbox house to meet her and the friends she had mentioned on the phone that she wanted Addie to meet. Flower beds that were probably beautiful in the summer wound around the span of the house and carried down the sides of the front walkway to the street. She peered up in time to see the curtains flutter in the window and knew she was being watched. She knocked and waited, and waited and knocked again. After several minutes of silence, she tiptoed through the flower bed, crunching dead stems as she walked, and peeked through the window where she’d seen the curtain moving. The panels were parted a few inches, and she pressed her face to the glass, cupping her hands around her eyes, and squinted into the darkened room.
She gasped. Catherine lay lifeless on the floor. She fumbled for her phone and dialed 911. In moments, she heard the sirens heading in her direction, and the next thing she knew Marc was at her side and officers were surrounding the house.
“She needs an ambulance, too.” She turned to him, tears burning behind her eyes.
He held her shoulders and looked into her pinched face. “They’re here. They’ve gone in with my men,” he murmured.
She could feel the rapid pounding of her heart and took a deep breath, the aroma of his aftershave calming her. “I’m okay. It was just such a shock to see her lying there. I talked to her not two hours ago.”
The door opened, and two paramedics wheeled the stretcher out. Addie stared at Catherine’s ashen face. It was almost lost against the white sheet of the transport trolley, but the stark contrast of the bloodstained dressing around her head was too much. Addie bit the inside of her cheek to fight back her tears.
She straightened herself and looked at the paramedic. “Is she . . . is she dead?”
The paramedic shook his head. “Unconscious but alive.”
“Thank God.” Addie gripped Marc’s jacket sleeve. “Do you know what happened? I mean, it was only minutes since I saw the curtains move, and she was looking forward to my visit.”
“I don’t know yet.” Marc shook his head. “I’ll have to go in and take a look around. Will you be okay waiting out here?”
She nodded, and he moved toward the house.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can see anything that might give us a clue.” He turned and looked at her from the door. “You stay put, do you hear me?”
She nodded and sat down on the step. Her head in her hands, she tried to think back to what Catherine had said to her on the phone that might give her some clue as to what happened. Then she jumped to her feet and dashed into the house.
“Marc.” She stopped short at the living room door when his eyes flashed her a warning.
“I thought I told you to wait outside.” He finished taking a swab of the coffee table corner.
“I just thought of something.” Addie’s gaze went to the three teacups on the coffee table. “But I see you already know it.” Her eyes widened at the chaotic state of the room. She spun around and looked at the dining room behind her. The buffet drawers were tossed on the floor, their contents scattered about the room. She looked back at Marc.
“What is it?” He rose to his feet and strode toward her.
She fought to compose herself, realizing the crime team’s eyes were focused on her. She bit her lip and looked at Marc. “Nothing. I came to tell you I know she wasn’t alone.” She cringed under his glare.
“I know.”
“She told me that there were a few others here already and wanted me to stop by for tea, too, on my way home.”
He looked back at the cups of half-finished tea. “Did she tell you who was here with her?”
Addie shook her head. “No, she was really vague, and I didn’t press her. I just thought I’d wait to see who it was when I got here. Oh, she also mentioned she had something important to give me.”
“Did she say what it was?”
Addie shook her head. “Only that she was really looking forward to seeing me again, that we had a lot of catching up to do.”
Marc rubbed his hands over his face.
“I know. I never met her, as far as I know, before last week, so I don’t get it.” She bit her lip. “Is it possible she was mentally unbalanced or something?” She looked up at Marc.
“Pftt, not that I know of, but I guess unless you were close to her, you wouldn’t know.”
“Maybe she’s confusing me with someone else?”
“Chief,” an officer called from the living room doorway, “what do you make of this? I found it under the sofa.”
Addie peered around Marc. The officer was holding two pieces of a heavy crystal vase. What looked like blood appeared to be smeared across the base portion.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Addie tossed and turned. It seemed as though if it wasn’t the hard hotel bed, it was too bright in the room from the parking lot lights shining through the window, or it was the ice machine rattling at the end of the hall, or the elevator bell, or one of a hundred other things—but Addie knew better. Names from the blackboard swam through her head. There were too many suspects, not enough links, and worst of all, no obvious motives. She watched the minutes pass on the bedside clock much like a countdown on a bomb. Her fear was it might come to exactly that if she couldn’t figure out soon how all the pieces fit together. There’d be an explosion, and somebody else would end up dead.
When the morning light did stream through the curtains, Addie was perched on the side of the bed drinking a cup of coffee and staring at the clock. She shook her head and stumbled into the bathroom in hopes that a shower would revive her and help make this soon-to-be very long day somewhat bearable.
Two trucks—Brian’s and one other—were already waiting outside her house when she got there. She hurried and let them in and put on a fresh pot of coffee for the crew. She told Brian to call her when they were finished and she’d be back, and then she dashed down the hall toward the front door. As she flew past the living room, she stopped. She had only been in the house once since the last break-in, to get fresh clothes, and Marc hadn’t given her any time to tidy up the mess that had been left.
Addie stood in the doorway, scanning the ransacked room, and closed her eyes. Her mind went back to the day Raymond had conducted her house tour. When he had slid open the double-wide pocket doors, she’d almost burst into tears. The room was a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved the rest of the house, this room had no remnants of the relic wallpaper. Th
ere was a comfy, overstuffed sofa facing the large stained glass window, the furnishings were traditional, and she noted a few antiques dispersed throughout—her aunt’s favorites, she’d assumed—but it wasn’t formal and ornate. It looked lived-in. She had immediately felt as if she were home.
She wilted against the doorframe. Lived-in was one thing, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind. Her eye wandered to the writing desk, its antique drawers tossed on the carpet, their contents scattered across the floor. Her heart ached. She loved that desk and hoped it hadn’t suffered any damage. She walked over to it, her fingers trailing across the desktop, which was ingrained with the fingertips of previous owners gone and forgotten. But not by this desk. It held on to them deep in its grainy wood.
After she moved in, she’d spent hours polishing it to bring it back to its original glory. It was then that she discovered its many hidden compartments and found carved inscriptions on the undersides of the drawers. It made her wonder what the history of it was. Who were those people? What secrets had they kept tucked inside? What love letters had they hidden in it? This desk had a heart, and she could feel it beating under her fingertips.
Secrets. Her chest constricted. “That’s it.” She began clicking the tiny wooden peg levers in the inside of the now-empty drawer recesses. Hidden trays popped open one by one. She had originally found three that had been filled with small trinkets and a few love notes, but she had a feeling there might be more still to be discovered. Now that she knew what to look for, cracking the puzzle desk might be easier.
She got on her hands and knees, swept the clutter away from beneath the desk, and crawled into the kneehole. She looked back over her shoulder at the sound of a throat clearing to see a bewildered Brian leaning against the doorframe.
“I guess you’re wondering what I’m doing down here?’
He shook his head. “It’s your house, carry on. But I was surprised to see you still here. Do you need help finding something?”
“Um, no, I was just inspecting the desk. It’s an antique, and I wanted to make sure it hadn’t been broken the other night when . . . well, when—”
“I get it. Marc told me you’ve been staying at the hotel since then. Well, I’ll leave you to it. Unless you do need anything?”
“No, I’m fine.” She smiled. “You carry on. I’ll be going soon anyway.”
He nodded, and she turned back to the desk and ducked her head underneath the kneehole, her backside waving high into the air. She shivered, and her skin prickled. Was he still watching her? She quickly flipped over and looked at the door just as he disappeared around the frame.
“Men,” she mumbled and resumed pushing and prodding at the underside of the desk. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket.
“Hi, Paige . . . it’s what time? Really? . . . I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” She bolted straight up and banged the top of her head on a low-hanging drawer rail.
The panel beside it clicked, and a concealed tray popped out. “I knew there must be more.” She pulled the tray out of its recess and peered inside. It was empty. Disappointed, she returned it to its slot and crawled from under the desk. She headed toward the door but looked back at the desk one more time. Was the key in the picture the key to open another compartment hidden somewhere in its depths? Or was it to open something else that might be hidden inside it? Not having the time to mull over her questions now, she grabbed her handbag from the side table and dashed to the car.
She screeched to a stop in her parking space behind the store, disarmed the alarm, and darted to the front door to let in Paige.
“I’m so sorry, Paige,” she panted. “I had to meet Brian at my house and I got delayed.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Paige smiled, taking off her coat. “I was worried about you. You know, with all the weird things that’ve been going on around here lately.”
“Yes, ‘weird’ is a good word for it. Want a cup of coffee?” Addie dropped a pod into the machine and leaned against the counter, trying to catch her breath. “No wait, you told me already that you’re a tea drinker.” Addie dug into her purse on the counter and pulled out her wallet, retrieved a five-dollar bill and handed it to Paige. “Go next door and get one. It’s on me, and buy a treat for yourself, too.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but it’s the least I can do for keeping you standing outside waiting half an hour. And don’t let Serena frighten you. Remember, she’s all bark and no bite.”
Addie went behind the counter, put her bag away, and scratched her head. She was certain she had a plan for Paige today, but couldn’t think what it was. She pulled a notepad out of the drawer to see if she’d jotted anything down yesterday, but it was no use; her mind was as blank as the pad. “I guess no sleep tends to do that,” she muttered, fixing her cup of coffee and taking a big gulp as Paige returned, tea in hand.
“Cheers.” Paige toasted her cup and took a seat on the other side of the coffee bar. “I was thinking . . .”
“Yes?” Addie studied her.
Paige flashed a smile, then shifted in her seat. “Well, I was thinking it would be a good idea if you trained me to open the store. You know, just in case something comes up again and you’re running late.”
Addie palmed her forehead. “That’s what I was trying to remember. Yes, you were late yesterday, and we never did go over the opening procedures.”
Paige appeared to relax and sipped her tea.
“Let’s get started.” Addie smiled at her and pulled an instruction manual out of the drawer beneath the cash register.
They went through the security system manual, and once again, Paige proved she was a quick study. The only dilemma Addie was left with in the end was the problem she had with giving Paige the keys to the store so soon after she’d started to work for her. She needed another plan.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to a startled-looking Paige and darted out the door, heading to SerenaTEA.
Addie dashed back from Serena’s shop just in time to see a red-faced Martha exiting Beyond the Page. She glared at Addie and slammed the door. The chimes jingled in protest. She stomped toward her door, huffing and wheezing as she went.
Addie flew through her door to find a very calm Paige placing new stock on a bookshelf, a satisfied smile on her lips.
“Are you okay?” Addie approached her, afraid the girl would erupt into tears as per usual.
Paige looked at her, confusion in her eyes. “Yes, why?”
“Umm, well . . . I saw . . .”
“Mom was in here, trying to bully me into quitting.”
“And?”
“I stood up to her and asked her to leave and told her she wasn’t welcome in here until she apologized to you.”
“Really? Wow. That’s kind of you, but I don’t want to come between you and your mother.”
“You’re not, don’t worry. There’s a lot more wrong between us than me working here.” Paige picked up another stack of books from the cart. “There’s no room for these. Do you want me to display them on the trolley? If customers see them, they might sell faster than if they’re sitting in the back room waiting for shelf space.”
“Great idea.” Addie looked at her as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You’re a very smart young lady.”
Paige beamed and began organizing the top of the trolley as a display unit for the extra books.
“Just in case I’m not here to unlock the door, Serena will have a spare key to let you in when you need it.”
Paige nodded and smiled.
Addie went back to the counter, downed the last of her now-cold coffee, and placed another pod in the machine for a fresh cup when the phone rang. Paige raced past Addie and picked it up before the second ring. Addie shook her head and laughed. The girl’s energy today was impressive. She appeared to be handling the phone inquiry as well as though she had worked there for months.
A pile of books on the floor between the tw
o window chairs caught Addie’s attention. She started to pick them up so she could re-shelve them, but then she noticed Marc’s patrol car parked outside and a somber-faced Marc heading for her door. Addie tapped on the window. His eyes lit up, and her heart surged. She cursed the warm blush sweeping across her cheeks as he stepped inside. She glanced at Paige, who was leaning on the counter, chin in hand. She grinned as her eyes flitted from Marc to Addie.
Addie squared her shoulders and walked toward him. Her knees trembled. Why did this man have such a profound effect on her?
“Would you be free to join me in an excursion, Addie?” He glanced over her head to Paige, who clapped. “There, Paige said it was okay. Get your handbag.”
“Do you mind telling me where we’re going?” She ignored Paige’s thumbs-up as she retrieved her purse and handed it to Addie over the counter.
“Catherine is awake, and she asked to see you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I don’t know. ‘Danger’ was all she mumbled.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A burly police officer nodded at Marc when he and Addie came around the corner from the nursing station. Addie swallowed hard at the sight of an armed guard outside the room. Maybe the danger Catherine had spoken of was real and was coming after her, too. She couldn’t help but remember this woman had bought the same variety of tea Raymond had been drinking when he was poisoned, and a shiver ran through her. She looked at Marc. He nodded. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The curtains were drawn, making it difficult for her to see Catherine in the dim light, but then Catherine’s face turned toward her, her eyes brightening. Addie walked to her bedside, took Catherine’s cold, frail hand in hers, and smiled down at her.
“It’s good to see you awake.” She pulled a chair closer to the bedside. “You’re looking much better.”
Catherine patted her uncombed hair. “I must look a fright.”
“Nonsense. For having gone through what you just have, you look wonderful.” Addie gently squeezed her hand.
Murder by the Book Page 17