by Eryn Scott
“Everything?” I asked, the word a whisper.
Alex joined us, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close as the detective put my high school friend in the back and slammed the door shut.
21
The next day I closed up the store just after lunch. During the winter months, I often closed the store early on Saturdays and Sundays, finding—even with Nate’s promotion—it wasn’t worth staying open my usual hours. It freed me up to spend more time with my family and friends too, as was the case that day.
Pulling my winter hat down over my ears, Hammy and I rounded the last corner before reaching Noblebranch Manor. Liv was in painting mode today, and I missed my best friend.
I let myself in and took Hammy off her leash. Like a tiny homing beacon, she trotted up the stairs and hung a left into the master bedroom.
“Hi, Ham Dog,” Liv said, her voice floating down the stairway. “Up here, Peps.”
Toeing off my shoes first, I headed upstairs. Liv had music playing. She had covered everything in plastic and had taped all the moldings. Her hair was up in a high ponytail, and she didn’t have a speck of paint on her yet. Technically, that didn’t mean she hadn’t started—she was as meticulous when she painted as she was… well, in every other aspect of her life and could feasibly paint without getting half the bucket on her clothes like me.
Hammy sniffed around the perimeter of the room and then headed back downstairs, probably to take a nap on Liv’s new couch.
“Just in time.” She smiled, coming forward to wrap me in a hug. “How are you doing?”
She’d gotten back from her trip to the city last night, but I’d been stuck at the station giving reports after we caught Fiona.
I nodded. “Uh, I’m okay. Totally at a loss for words, but okay. Seeing someone I grew up with, was good friends with, snap like that is hard.”
Liv puffed up her cheeks. “I cannot even imagine. I want to hear all about it."
“I can’t believe we thought Fiona’s dad ‘left’ all those years ago.” I used air quotes around left.
“He didn’t actually leave?” Liv asked.
“No.” I rolled up my sleeves and picked up one of the rollers. “Remember when I told you something weird happened that Thanksgiving break?”
“Right.”
“Well, apparently weird isn’t the word. Terrible, horrifying, deadly. Those would be better ways to describe it.”
Liv’s eyes widened, and she picked up a paintbrush to work on the edging while I rolled.
“Cole and Emerson went out hunting, as usual, but they were also fighting, as usual. Cole got distracted and shot at something moving in the distance. But it wasn’t an animal. It was Fiona’s dad.” I paused, taking in a deep breath. “He was their gardener and had been out tackling a patch of blackberries along the edge of the property.”
“That’s awful,” she said.
“What’s worse is that they got scared and didn’t want to tell anyone, so they rolled his body in a nearby ravine, raided their parents’ safe, and then made it seem like he’d run away with money and jewelry.”
“Not to mention letting Fiona believe her father abandoned her,” Liv said.
Pointing my roller at her first, I dipped it into the tray to pick up more paint. “As if it could get any worse, right? Well, the boys didn’t realize this, but the butler actually witnessed it. I guess that carriage house apartment we visited used to be his. Remember how much of their property we could see from there?”
“Yeah. So this butler witnessed them killing the gardener, but didn’t say anything?” She frowned.
“I know. I don’t get it either. He talked about how he didn’t want to put the family in jeopardy and gave a bunch of other excuses. By the time he realized he should say something a few years later, he said it was too late. There was no evidence at that point, and it would be his word against the two Williams brothers. He said no one listened to the help.”
Liv tipped her head to one side as she cut in around the window. “I can’t blame him for feeling like that.”
“Yeah, well he mostly put it behind him until Cole told him he didn’t need a butler anymore with only him living at Woodcrest. Cole never liked having all the servants.” I worked the roller in V shapes, and the gray color Liv had chosen covered the light blue from the previous owners.
“So did he confront Cole?” Liv stopped and turned toward me.
“No.” I frowned. “Cole gave him a big severance, and I guess he didn’t want to risk that. Still, he said it upset him and thought Fiona should at least know that her dad didn’t leave her. He told her what he’d seen.”
“Why wouldn’t he have gone to the police?”
I shrugged. “He said he was sure none of it would stand in court. It’s what he told Fiona too, which is one reason she snapped. She felt helpless about getting justice for her dad.”
Liv snorted. “This butler guy made these bad decisions based on his distrust in the police?”
“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “Anyway, after he told her, he up and left to Mexico. Oh, but he gave her his extra set of keys to Woodcrest. So Fiona, stuck in her own grief and anger, went snooping around while Cole wasn’t there and found the gun that had killed her dad. She was the one who stole the blood from the hospital in that story you read in The Frond and used it with Emerson’s boot prints to lure Cole toward the gun. When he found it, she came up behind him and stabbed him with one of Emerson’s knives.”
Liv shivered. “Yikes.”
“She said she’d always disliked Cole but had expected more from Emerson, so he was the one she wanted to make suffer. That’s why she tried to frame him for Cole’s murder. She knew planting his knife and bloody boots where the cops could find them would be too obvious, so she tried to lead the police to where she’d hidden them. They were taking too long, in her opinion, which is why she jumped Alex with Emerson’s bat.”
“So it was her?” Liv inhaled.
I nodded, swallowing the worst of my fury toward her. “She was so messed up, Liv. The anger consumed her, and then she got paranoid. She said she was sorry for hurting Alex.”
Liv clicked her tongue. “But they had Emerson in custody. Why would she run?”
“When I mentioned that he was talking about ghosts, she got scared that he would finally admit what they had done to her dad now that Cole was gone.”
“So that’s what Emerson was mumbling about. He thought her dad’s ghost had come back to get them?”
“Fiona used the key the butler gave her to mess with Emerson as well as frame him for his brother’s murder. Along with using the rifle that killed her father to lure Cole, she planted a few old belongings of her father’s around Emerson’s apartment. She wanted to scare him, but I’m sure she didn’t consider he’d jump to the conclusion it was the work of her father’s ghost.”
“She didn’t count on how much it’d been eating away at him all these years. Holding on to guilt for that long makes people do weird things,” Liv said.
I remembered back to Cole talking about how he wasn’t as nice of a guy as I thought he was. “Cole didn’t start all his charitable work until our senior year. He must've been trying to make up for the terrible thing he did.”
Liv finished edging around the window and started on the molding. “A little too late, if you ask me.”
“Right? But he fooled all of us for years. I can’t believe what a good person I thought he was.” I paused my rolling to get more paint. “He still didn’t deserve to die. I wish Ethan Oritz hadn’t put it in Fiona’s head they had no chance with the police. Alex and Mateo could’ve helped her.”
“Can they charge the butler with something?”
I shrugged. “When the police contacted him, he swore he didn’t think Fiona would hurt anyone when he told her.”
“What happened to your classmate? The one who was writing you those threats. That’s gotta be awkward that you still have to go to classes with her.”
Finished with one wall, I moved on to the next, switching with Liv, who moved to edge the one I’d finished.
“I feel like this whole case has been a big huge lesson in how little we know the people around us,” she said.
“It’s sobering.” I nodded, glancing back at Liv.
She met my gaze and smiled, confirming what I felt: we were safe with each other.
“How are things going with Carson?” I asked, continuing on the wall I was painting. “Is he here?” I hadn’t heard him down in the garage.
She shook her head. “At work getting a few things ready for this week. I don’t know. Things are better. He’s settling down some, but he’s thrown all his nerves about the move into work, and now he’s putting in a lot of extra time there.”
I grimaced. “Sorry.”
Her expression brightened. “Actually, we’re going out to see a movie tonight at the old theater. It’ll be fun to do something together that doesn’t have to do with moving or home repairs.”
“Oh good.” I nodded, smiling. They would be fine. All couples went through rough patches here and there. Alex and I seemed to be getting through ours.
“How’s Alex doing? They letting him back at work yet?” she asked.
“Nope. The doctor said he should take a couple more weeks to be safe. But he allowed him a few hours a week at the station to help with the paperwork for this case, so at least he’s not going completely crazy.” I chuckled, then checked my watch. “That reminds me. We’re supposed to have dinner in a few hours.”
With a renewed focus, we finished painting the bedroom, standing back and marveling at the change the new color made. Liv moved to hug me, but stopped when she noticed how covered in paint I was.
“What do you do to get like this?” She laughed.
“I don’t know! I just paint. How do you get away with only this?” I pointed to a small drop on her arm.
“You attract paint. It’s even in your hair, Peps. If you’re going out to dinner, you’d better go home and shower first.”
Sighing, I clicked my tongue for Hammy. “Yeah. Okay, have fun tonight. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
Liv waved goodbye and got to work putting the paint away.
Hammy and I headed back home, but I stopped by Bittersweet on the way to grab a pick-me-up.
Nate stood behind the counter and waved as we entered. “Good evening, paint-covered Pepper.” He inclined his head toward me and then looked down at my feet. “Juicy little Hamburger.”
I shivered, hating when he called her that. I normally didn’t bring Hammy inside, but it was too cold to leave her outside, and I was only going to be a second.
“Hi, Nate. Can I get a turtle mocha. Twenty ounces, please?”
“Coming right up.”
As I pulled out some cash to pay, I eyed the large basket of receipts from the promotion. There were a lot in there, even more than the other day when we went through them all. That meant a lot of bakery items Nate had given away.
He brought me my coffee a few minutes later, and I handed over my money.
“Nate, I can’t thank you enough for starting that promo. It’s been great for business through these winter months.”
He bowed slightly. “As I said, it’s my pleasure.”
“But really…” I added. “What are you getting out of it? I’m worried you’re losing money.” Mostly, I was worried about what he had planned with all those emails and phone numbers.
Nate’s thin lips curled into a smile. “Pepper, Pepper, Pepper.” He clicked his tongue. “What’s the cheapest thing to buy here in the café?”
“Um… a cup of tea?”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, other than that.”
I pointed to the bakery case. “I guess the baked goods since the coffees are like three dollars or more.”
Nate touched a long finger to his nose. “Exactly. And when you’ve been given a free pastry, what’s the harm in splurging on a coffee?”
I squinted one eye. “None?”
“Right you are. I’ve counted. Do you know how many of these people took their free bakery item without purchasing anything else?”
Shaking my head, I waited.
“Three, Pepper. Three. Out of that huge basket. So you see, by giving away a piddly scone or croissant, I’ve sold twice as many beverages as I normally would this month, half of those being more expensive specialty coffees.”
I blinked as I took in the reasoning, having expected something much more diabolical. “Oh, wow. Nate, that’s… I guess I’m pleasantly surprised,” I said, instead of, That’s the least creepy thing you’ve ever said.
He flourished a hand in front of his body and bowed again. “Well, it is one of my missions in life to surprise people. Usually I have to follow people home in the dark and step out of the shadows at the last minute to get this kind of reaction.” He gestured to my expression. “So thank you, Pepper.”
And there’s the Nate I know. I shivered, but put a smile on my face. “See you around.”
Hammy and I hurried home. I sent Alex a text that I was hopping in the shower, but he could let himself in if he got here early. Then Hammy and I raced upstairs to get ready.
When I emerged from the bathroom—painted clothes replaced by a cute sweater and my best jeans, my now paint-free hair plaited into a cute French braid—half an hour later, Hammy was nowhere to be seen. The apartment door was cracked open. I was sure I had closed it.
She must be downstairs with Alex, I thought with a flush of relief.
But then I checked my phone and noticed Alex had texted back saying he was running a little late, so I shouldn’t rush because he wouldn’t get here until closer to six.
“Ham,” I called, a wobble in my voice as I stepped toward the stairway down to the bookstore.
Nothing.
I couldn’t help but let a million terrible scenarios race through my brain.
With shaking fingers, I pulled open the apartment door.
22
A gasp escaped my lips as a flicker of flames caught my eye toward the landing at the end of the stairs. Fire?
I raced forward, bare feet padding on the cold wooden stairs.
It took me many more steps than I wanted to admit before I realized they were only candles. I stopped short, letting out a relieved exhale.
But I didn’t light any candles, I realized with a renewed skip to my pulse.
Continuing forward, I came to the bottom of the stairs. The bookstore was dark, save for a pathway of tea lights starting right before me. I caught sight of a book at my feet.
It was a crumpled old copy of Slaughterhouse Five, the book Alex had been reading when we’d first met. Stepping over it, I realized the tea lights were framing a long pathway of books.
I smiled as I recognized the next one. A Tale of Two Cities, one of my very favorites, and the first book I recommended to Alex. Next was The Merchant of Venice and shortly after As You Like It. I felt like laughing, remembering our first kiss in the library the day he’d been there to check out the book.
Next along the path was my big, battered copy of Hemingway’s short stories, followed by The Sun Also Rises. I swiped away a tear as the complete angst of that spring hit me all over again.
Alex had just gotten back from being away at the academy, and I had absolutely no idea where we stood. It had taken Liv and I stepping into the pathway of a crazed serial killer for Alex and I to admit our true feelings for one another.
Hemingway led me down one of the classics aisles of bookshelves in the store. In the middle lay a copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. I sighed as I thought back to the local Austenfest that summer, and the scares we had.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I remembered Alex carrying me when I’d broken my ankle running from the killer and later jumping into the glacial lake up in the mountains to save me from drowning.
He was my own personal Darcy, that man.
Another few tears fell again as I followed the path to the end of the aisle, toward my dad’s copy of Walden. Just last year we’d found out Dad had been a founding member of a secret fraternity during his college years. The fraternity had become corrupt and dangerous, making me momentarily doubt my late father’s character during the investigation. Alex had been the one to remind me to trust in my dad, and who I knew to be in my heart.
And then I followed the tea lights around the corner. Finally, there was my copy of Jane Eyre at my feet. I stepped over it and into the poetry corner of the bookstore. Alex was there, surrounded by more candles. He was kneeling. And smiling. Hammy sat next to him, her tail wagging when she noticed me.
“Hi,” Alex said.
“Hey.” My reply was barely a whisper. I stepped closer, swiping at my eyes. When I was close enough, I knelt in front of him.
He wet his lips. “Pepper, I think I knew I was going to love you from the moment I saw you in that library the first time, surrounded by books, toes dancing away as you devoured those pages full of words.”
I laughed, but it came out more like a happy sob.
He smiled. “I love how you challenge me, how you don’t listen to me, and how you protect those around you with an unrivaled ferocity. I can’t imagine my life without you.” He held a ring toward me.
It was a gorgeous emerald, my favorite color. The facets on the gem and the filigree setting sparkled in the candlelight.
“I ask you to pass through life at my side—to be my second self, and best earthly companion,” he said, taking my hand with his free one. “Pepper Brooks, will you marry me?”