Once Upon A Murder

by D E Dennis

  “Nah, nothing like that, dude,” Abigail said, growing animated. “The party was lit. The music was pumping. Drinks were flowing. And half the student body hooked up. It was by far the best party of the year, and people are still talking about it. Look, I’ll show you.” Abigail suddenly leaped off the couch and raced out of the living room.

  It was just Michael, Monica, Delilah, and her sleeping mother. Monica turned to Delilah. “So, Miss Ino, do—”

  “Did you want to talk to Mom too?” She jerked her thumb at the lump on the couch. “I’ll wake her up.”

  “We can talk to her later.”

  Delilah didn’t seem to have heard. “Mom! Hey, Mom! Get up!”

  A fierce snort signaled the end of her nap. She jerked her head up blinking blearily at her daughter. “What?” she croaked. “What is it?”

  “Cops want to talk to you about Preston.”

  “Cops?” A hint of alarm was in her tone.

  “We aren’t cops, Mrs. Ino,” Michael said getting to his feet. He towered over her, as he held out his hand. “We’re private investigators.”

  She squinted at him. “Luscious.”

  “Excuse me?” he sputtered, backing away.

  “She means the cat.” Michael couldn’t see Delilah’s eyeroll, but he sensed it all the same. “Duh. The cat’s name is Luscious and he’s sleeping right on top of you, Mom.”

  She looked down at the oversized beast in surprise. “Oh.”

  With some difficulty, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and settled Luscious on her lap. The cat didn’t even crack open an eyelid.

  “Who are you again?”

  Michael repeated his credentials and retook his seat while his sister introduced herself.

  “My name is Adalynn Ino.” She had a deep, throaty voice. It was pleasant but did not match the rest of her. Now that she was awake, Michael could see her eyes were bulging and red-rimmed. Her hairstyle made her look like she’d been electrocuted, but she made no move to smooth it down or close her loose robe.

  Michael courteously looked away. He didn’t bother trying to read her. He was pretty sure he had the full measure of her already.

  “This is my daughter, Delilah,” Adalynn continued. “How can we help you?”

  Delilah heaved a sigh. “They already know who I am, and they told you why they were here.”

  “What was that, dear?” She smiled vacantly at her daughter.

  “Nothing, Mom,” she grumbled.

  Adalynn abruptly stood up, sending Luscious to the floor with a furious yowl. “I think I’m going to take a nap. Goodbye.”

  “Wait, Mrs. Ino,” Monica said quickly. “We wanted to ask you some questions about Preston Charming.”

  “Preston?” she said as she trudged out of the room. “Such a nice boy.”

  Then, she was gone.

  Michael and Monica shared a look.

  “Got it!”

  Their silent communication ended as Abigail came back into the room. She was carrying a laptop that she placed in Monica’s lap.

  She answered Michael’s question before he got a chance to voice it.

  “Pictures from the party. I told you it was lit.” She proudly scrolled through the pictures of teenage debauchery. Drinking, dancing, posing for the camera, and quite a few shots of Preston himself smirking into the lens as one did when they knew just how handsome and popular they were.

  Michael gently nudged his sister’s shoulder.

  “These pics are awesome,” Monica said. “No wonder everyone is still talking about the party.”

  Abigail nodded. “It’s super sad what happened to Preston, but at least the last thing he did was throw this sick party. He’ll be a Castle legend for like, the rest of time.”

  A dream come true, I’m sure.

  “You mind sending us these pictures?” Monica asked.

  She shrugged. “I’ll just add you. You can see all the pictures from the party but I’m telling you it has nothing to do with anything.”

  “Maybe not, but we have to cover our bases.”

  “Whatever.”

  Monica pulled up her social media account and accepted Abigail’s invite, then she busied herself with downloading all the photos to her phone.

  Michael took over the questioning while she worked. “So where were you Friday night?”

  She folded her arms. “On Friday, our friend dropped me and Lilah home right after school. Mom was here. She saw us come in. I did my homework, then my girls came by and picked us up and we went out.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Lilah. We went shopping, then we grabbed dinner at the Gardens before seeing that new movie that came out.”

  “What time did the movie end?”

  “Midnight.”

  “And you both were together and with your friends the whole time?” Michael directed this question at Delilah, but her sister jumped in before she could open her mouth.

  “Yes, we were. All day and all night.”

  Michael nodded along. “Have the police told you how Preston died, Abigail?”

  “Nope. Preston’s mom told me he died, but she didn’t give me the details.”

  “Preston was lured into Siren Woods late Friday night, by the person we think killed him.”

  She frowned. “Siren Woods?”

  “Yes. He was found there Saturday morning. Someone hit him over the head with a rock.”

  A sharp intake of breath drew his attention. Michael had almost forgotten Delilah was still in the room.

  “Someone brought him out into the woods and attacked him?” Delilah asked.

  Michael nodded. “Any idea who that might be, Delilah? Abigail?”

  Abigail scoffed. “Why would we know?”

  “Because Preston left the safety of his home, in the middle of the night, to meet this person alone in the woods. This suggests he knew the person. Knew them and didn’t think he would be in any danger.”

  Her eyes went round. “You don’t think— He wasn’t meeting me! He was my boyfriend. If we wanted to meet up, we didn’t have to go sneaking around in the woods to do it.”

  Michael shifted, leaning forward in his seat. “And what about Preston? Who were his friends? Anyone he was close to?”

  “He was always hanging with Lance and Auggie. They’re both on the student council too.”

  Michael nodded, filing those names away with the other tidbits he collected this morning. “Thank you for talking with us and I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks.” She got to her feet. “The front door is that way.”

  Michael made no move to leave. “Actually, I was hoping to speak to the other woman.”

  Abigail screwed up her face. “Other woman?”

  “Yes, the woman I spoke to on the phone yesterday. Does someone else live here?”

  Abigail’s mouth formed a small “o.” “You must be talking about Cinderella.” She smirked. “Don’t know what you want to talk to her for, but she’s probably out back with that flea-bitten dumpster mutt of hers.”

  Delilah slipped off the chair. “I’ll show you the way.”

  Abigail flounced off without another word and Michael and Monica followed Delilah through the dining room and into the kitchen. She paused at the back door and pointed through the glass pane.

  “That’s Cinderella. Let yourselves out when you’re done.”

  They watched Delilah stomp off before turning to each other.

  “What a lovely family,” Monica said sarcastically. “Do you really want to meet more of them?”

  Michael chuckled. “’Fraid so. Let’s get this done quickly so we can catch up with Samira. They may still be at the Charmings’.”

  “Whatever you say, big brother.” She swept out her arms. “After you.”

  Michael pulled open the door and stepped out. The little stone courtyard they found themselves in had nothing on it but trash bins and one stray patio chair. Penned in by an overgrown lawn, the grass loomed alm
ost as high as the trees, and unlike the immaculate garden out front, the rose and azalea bushes out here were wilting.

  A figure in rainboots and an oversized coat stood with their back turned to the siblings, a hose in hand. A small dog yapped, snarled, and snapped but Cinderella patiently continued to clean him. Her movements firm but gentle.

  “Excuse me? Cinderella?”

  The hose turned off and the woman turned to face them, her hood falling back.

  Michael sucked in a breath.

  Long silky tresses framed her strikingly beautiful heart-shaped face. Dark brown orbs peered at him over sharp cheekbones and an aquiline nose. Arched eyebrows drew together.

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  Michael blinked, the slight reproach in her voice bringing him back to reality. “Don’t call you what?”

  “Cinderella.” She let the hose drop to the floor. It’s not like she needed it anymore since the dog fled the moment she released him. “That is not my name,” she continued, “it’s Eleanor. Eleanor Glass. But you can call me Ella.”

  “Ella,” he repeated with a smile. “Lovely name. Sorry about that. Your... uh... Delilah and Abigail called you Cinderella.”

  “Well, they would. They came up with that little nickname.”

  “Oh?” His smile dimmed. “Why do they call you that?”

  Ella said nothing, she just held up her bare hand.

  It took a minute for Michael to understand, but when he did his eyes widened. A gasp from his side let him know his sister understood as well.

  “Those little—” Michael let out a string of particularly bad language that resulted in Ella giggling.

  “That was creative.”

  “Where do they get off calling you something like that?” Michael raged. He had half a mind to storm back into that house and let those twins know what he thought of their little nickname.

  “It’s okay,” Ella said, ducking her head. “I’m used to it.”

  “It’s disgusting! Calling you Cinderella because you’re Black. What is wrong with them?”

  “They’re my foster sisters,” she said as though that explained everything.

  Monica was no less pissed. “I don’t care if they’re both the queens of England. You say the word and I’ll knock their identical heads together.”

  Ella smothered a laugh. “Thank you, but I can handle myself. Who are you guys anyway?”

  It took a minute for Michael to calm down enough to answer the question. “My name is Michael Grimm. This is my sister, Monica. We’re the private investigators working the Preston Charming case.”

  “Oh yeah.” She drew herself up, eyes sharpening. “I spoke to you yesterday. Do you have questions for me? Because you should know that I didn’t know Preston well. We didn’t go to the same school and he and Abby usually hung out at his place.”

  Monica stepped forward. “You don’t go to Castle Rock Prep?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve only been with the Inos for a year now. I was already going to school on our side and I didn’t want to transfer out in my senior year. Adalynn let me stay.”

  Michael inclined his head. “Makes sense. Well, if you didn’t go to school together or spend much time with him, then this will be a short interview. I only have one question. How was Preston and Abigail’s relationship? What did she say about him?”

  “She never said she wanted to kill him, if that is what you’re asking.” She shrugged. “It was just the usual stuff. ‘He was so hot. So rich. They were the prince and princess of the Castle.’ Honestly, I got the feeling love had very little to do with it. She just liked being the girl on the arm of the popular Preston Charming.”

  Michael nodded sedately. He had only spoken to Abigail once, but he got the same feeling as well.

  “Thanks, Ella. You’ve been helpful.”

  She beamed. “Of course, anything I can do to help.” Her eyes slid off his face and she looked around. “So is that all? Because I should get back to bathing Scrap.”

  “Scrap?”

  She laughed. “I found him rooting around our trash for scraps of food, so the name seemed to fit.”

  Michael looked over his shoulder at the open containers. The garbage was thrown haphazardly inside the bin with no liner, lid, or thought to recycling. Michael spotted food waste, bottles, a heel, and plastic containers all in one bin.

  “You should cover those and keep the food tied up, so Scrap and his buddies don’t make dropping by for dinner a regular thing.”

  She chuckled. “Tell that to my foster family. They aren’t really one for neat and tidy so it’s up to me to do the cleaning up and deal with the animals that drop by for a late-night snack.” She smiled. “Not that I mind the little Scraps. I love animals and Adalynn doesn’t mind me looking after them after I rescued Luscious.”

  Monica started. “You’re telling me that obscenely large beast used to be a stray?”

  She winced. “He has been a bit... over-pampered in the last nine months, but he seems happy here.”

  Michael didn’t know what possessed him to say what he said next. “Are you happy here?”

  Her face closed off, her smile gone. As the silence stretched, Michael was sure she wasn’t going to answer.

  He stepped forward. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “My mom died after I was born,” she began, expressionless. “It was just me and Dad until he died too. A car accident. I didn’t have any other family, so I was put in care.” She looked at him steadily. “I’ve been in a lot of homes, and trust me, this is one of the good ones. Abby and Lilah say cruel things, but they don’t destroy my stuff, cut my hair in my sleep, or make up lies to get me in trouble. And Adalynn might spend her days in another world, but she doesn’t bring home strange men, she never lets me go without food, and she has never put her hands on me.

  “I don’t expect happy anymore, Mr. Grimm. Happy is a child’s dream. I just want safe and here I am safe. Safe to study and work and save up enough to go to Castle Rock University, get my degree, and start my own life. Adalynn is even letting me stay here past my eighteenth birthday, until I can afford to go to college. So does that answer your question, Mr. Grimm?”

  “Call me Michael,” he said automatically, “and yes, it does.”

  She nodded. “Do you have any other questions?”

  “Just one.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Michael stepped forward and placed his business card in her hands. “Will you call me if you need to talk? Not just about the case but about... anything.”

  She gazed at him, clearly surprised, but her hand closed over the card. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Michael grinned and turned around. “See you around, Ella.”

  He put his hand on the doorknob the same moment his phone beeped. Michael pulled it out and read the screen.

  Unknown Number.

  “Michael?”

  He turned around. Ella was waving her phone at him. “Now, you have my number too.”

  Chapter Five

  “So, where to next?” Monica asked after they piled into the car. “Should we drop by the Charmings’ and help with the search?”

  “I’ll call Samira first and see if they are still there.”

  She answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, Mikey. How did your talk with the Inos go?”

  “It was interesting, to say the least. Are you going to interview them as well?”

  “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t. Spencer and I are going to drop by this afternoon. Is there anything we should know before we go?”

  “The twins have an alibi that I haven’t confirmed yet. All the mom had to say about Preston was that he was a nice boy, and Ella barely knew the guy.”

  “Ella?”

  “Eleanor Glass. She is Adalynn Ino’s foster daughter. She doesn’t go to the same school as the twins and Preston.”

  “Seems like you’ve ruled Miss Glass and the Inos out.”

  He shoo
k his head even though she couldn’t see it. “I haven’t ruled anything out. I’m convince pampered Prince Preston didn’t leave the safety of his mansion to meet up with some random in Siren Woods. The texter had his number, and he felt safe enough to meet them alone. The killer must be someone in his circle. Did you find anything at the house?”

  “Not much, but I’ll tell you all about it over lunch. Meet me at the Little Pigs café in an hour.”

  “See you then.”

  Michael hung up and reclined in his seat. “Change of plans. We’re meeting up with Samira at the Little Pigs.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we.”

  “Okay.” She chuckled. “We it is, but if you want, I can leave you two alone.”

  Michael blatantly ignored the suggestion in her voice. “Anyway. What did you think of the Inos?”

  She snorted. “Those twins are a piece of work, and I’m pretty sure the mom is on something. Probably many somethings, but to be honest, I don’t see any of them bashing a boy over the head with a rock.”

  Michael sighed. “Neither do I.”

  “Do you have any other impressions of them? What did you pick up while I was doing all the talking?”

  Michael cracked a smile. “You pick up far more by listening than you do—”

  “—running your mouth,” she finished. “I know, I know. That is why I let you sit there like Specter Grimm while I handle most of the questioning.”

  “Specter Grimm. That’s a good one, much better than Ghoul.”

  She laughed, shoving his shoulder. “We’ve talked to the girlfriend and the parents now and the picture isn’t getting any clearer to me. You?”

  Reluctantly, he shook his head. “No, but I think that is because Preston Charming is still an enigma. If he was as popular and well-loved as everyone claimed, why did someone kill him so horribly?”

  “Should we talk to the parents again?”

  He shook his head slowly. “He may have hired us, but I have a feeling we won’t get anywhere asking Bryan Charming for the truth about his son. He’s determined to believe Preston had nothing to do with his death.”

  “What about Mrs. Charming?”

  “Maybe, if we could get her on her own...”

  Monica stopped at a light and turned to him. “I can make that happen. I’ll find out Mr. Charming’s schedule and arrange for us to talk to her when he’s not around.”