Death on the Page

by Essie Lang

  The many flower beds were also in fine form, the plants and colors of summer having been swapped out for the more traditional fall beds of asters and helenium. That’s what Matthew had called them. Shelby readily admitted she didn’t have a clue when it came to gardening. Matthew had tended the flower beds with great care after the professional landscaper had come around to make the seasonal changes. She could tell he thoroughly enjoyed that part of his job as caretaker on Blye Island.

  She sighed, feeling happy to be heading to work, and took the walkway up to the castle. Once inside the front door, she stood in the massive hall for a few minutes, soaking in the sound of the indoor fountain to her right before she passed in front of it and into the bookstore. The castle made all seem right with the world. She thought she’d never tire of the feeling that enveloped her each day.

  Shelby was in a positive frame of mind as she approached the door to the bookstore. But that plummeted when she saw Chief Stone leaning against the doorframe.

  “Good morning, Chief. You’re here early.” Inwardly, she cringed.

  Stone nodded. “I came over on the police launch so that I could have some time walking around without all of you in the way.”

  She smiled when she said it, but Shelby knew it was the blunt truth. “And I take it you have some more questions for me.”

  “That I do.” The chief pushed herself off from the doorframe and followed Shelby into the store. “I had an interesting call from your aunt last night. I’m seeing her next. Now, I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee. Black.”

  Shelby couldn’t think of a thing to say as she turned on the lights and got the coffee going. It seemed the chief couldn’t either. Finally, a mug in each hand, Shelby emerged from the back room and found Stone running a finger along the titles in the local-authors section.

  “Here you go,” Shelby said. “Are you also interested in buying a book, by any chance? We have a great anniversary sale on right now.” Unlikely but worth a try.

  “Not today.” Stone blew on the coffee and took a cautious sip. “Good brew. Now, do you have any thoughts about what happened to those plans? The one from the main store?”

  At least she hadn’t come right out and asked about Cody. Edie must have stuck to the plan.

  “Not really. I hadn’t even seen them. They weren’t laid out in an obvious location, and Aunt Edie had told me about them but she didn’t go into any detail. Of course, you’ve seen what the back room is like. Anyone could get in there if Edie or Trudy was distracted.”

  “That would have been my next question. You’re anticipating me. Seems to me you’ve been giving this a lot of consideration. Is there a reason for that?” Stone peered over the rim of her mug.

  Uh-oh. “It all seems so bizarre, but I’d hate to think the store was involved in any way in a theft from the castle. Or, worse yet, Savannah’s death.”

  Stone’s eyes narrowed, and the steely look settled on her face. It was a look Shelby had seen a lot in the spring during the last murder investigation.

  “That’s an interesting conjecture. How did you get there?”

  “Well, from what I’ve heard, the thief or thieves may have gotten into the castle through the secret passages.” She paused, but the chief didn’t react. “The plan that went missing from the bookstore was an early architectural design for the castle, according to Aunt Edie, and although I haven’t seen them, they must have shown the passages, wouldn’t you think? So, if someone knew about our plans and wanted to get into the castle unseen, he’d be smart to steal them first. Right?”

  “That makes sense.” The chief looked like she was taking it all in.

  “But”—she might as well jump right in—“why steal two sets of plans that are basically the same? Or I assume they are. And, if our plan was stolen first, why then take the ones from the castle? Unless”—the thought just hit her—“it’s the other way around and the castle ones were stolen first, not on the night of the murder, though. And they didn’t have the secret passages noted, so maybe ours did and that’s why they were stolen.”

  “That’s an awful lot of conjecture,” Stone answered after a few moments. “If that were so, the plans from the castle had to have been taken during the daytime, or how else would the thief get into the castle at night before he knew about the passageway? And that’s a reasonable assumption, because there was no other sign of a break-in in any other part of the castle. The main question is, I guess, when did those plans go missing?”

  Shelby just stared at the chief. Her mind felt like it was working overtime, and more questions were popping up than being answered. She’d leave all of that to Chief Stone, she decided. She was also surprised the chief had shared so much information with her.

  “What about the murder?” Shelby asked.

  “Do you have a theory about that, too?” Shelby could hear the sarcasm in the chief’s voice but pushed ahead anyway.

  “Just what I’ve already mentioned. Was it a coincidence that Savannah’s body was found in the secret passageway? Maybe the murderer did have another way in, although I know nothing’s been found yet to support that, and found Savannah wandering around doing research, and pushed her down the stairs. So, back to the plans. Did the castle set show the passages? And how do you figure out which set was stolen first? If ours at the store have, in fact, been stolen. Edie did say they could just be misplaced.”

  Stone snorted. “Edie may be a bit scatterbrained when it comes to some things, but I do know she has a need to keep things organized. That hasn’t changed over the years, I hear. If the killer came in through the passageways, he had to have the plans to know about them and where they led. So, the main question is, who stole the plans? I think it’s possible we could have two thieves and one of them is the murderer. Now, I want you to trust me to follow through on this, and don’t you go messing in this investigation. Do you hear me?”

  Shelby nodded. She guessed this wasn’t the time to ask the chief if she’d talked to Jenna Dunlop yet. Or whether Liam was on the suspect list. She also wondered what Frank White had told the police. That might turn out to be something she’d have to find out for herself. She tried to appear sincere.

  Stone nodded, apparently satisfied with Shelby’s supposed acquiescence. “Now, I know I don’t have any control over your thoughts, so if you happen to come up with something I need to know, I trust you’ll tell me right away. Right?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “But you will not follow up on anything on your own. Right?”

  Shelby nodded again. Stone held her gaze with that look she had and then visibly relaxed. She finished her coffee and thanked Shelby.

  At the door, Stone turned back. “Remember, this is not your business.” She stomped out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

  Shelby leaned against the counter, realizing how tense she’d been. What had she just promised? She knew it wasn’t possible to carry through on it. She heard the boat whistle and shook her head, trying to get the chief out of it before the first customers arrived.

  Just before noon, Shelby looked up from the catalog she’d been thumbing through to see a striking raven-haired woman about her own age entering the store. She wore a pair of navy–and–light blue checked leggings, the same ones Shelby had bought a couple of weeks earlier. She was so lucky she hadn’t worn them to work that day.

  After browsing the shelves, the woman approached the counter. “Are you the owner?”

  “That I am. What can I do for you?”

  “I hope you have a copy of Savannah Page’s latest book. A signed copy,” she hastened to add. “You see, I couldn’t make it to her signing, and I just love her work. I’m really kicking myself for not getting here. I don’t see it on the shelves, although maybe I was looking in the wrong place. At least, I hope I was.”

  “Just let me check the inventory,” Shelby answered, turning to the computer. “I’m sorry, we don’t have the book here, but our main store in Alexandria Bay has four copies.�
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  “I’ll stop in there and pick one up, if you don’t mind asking them to put it aside. I’ll do that later this afternoon.”

  “Happy to do that. And your name?”

  “Rachel Michaels. What was she like? Savannah Page, I mean.”

  Shelby put the note she’d written to the side and considered Rachel’s question. And also wondered why she wanted to know.

  As if reading Shelby’s mind, Rachel said with a lopsided smile, “I know it sounds nosy, but like I said, I was a fan. And I’m totally devastated about her death. From a purely personal perspective, I’m also really sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet, although she’d agreed to talk to me.”

  “She had?”

  “Oh, yes, I was so excited.” Rachel kept nodding her head so emphatically, she had to push her peach-framed glasses back to where they perched partway down her nose. Shelby’s gaze wandered to Rachel’s hair, admiring it’s deep and shiny color and the smoothness of the style. She’d always wished her naturally curly hair would morph overnight into a straight style like that.

  “I’d emailed her,” Rachel was continuing, “and explained that I’m also a fiction writer with some publishing credits, but I want to branch into writing true crime. I’d asked if I might buy her a cup of coffee and ask her some questions. I was blown away when she agreed. We were supposed to meet after her signing on Friday, but as I said, I couldn’t get here on the weekend.”

  She looked disappointed or sad or both. Shelby felt bad for her, although she thought it odd that Savannah would have agreed to meet at that time. After all, she had been scheduled to dine with Edie and Shelby. It had been arranged several weeks in advance.

  “That was a shame,” Shelby agreed. “I’m sure you would have liked her as a person as well as a writer. In answer to your original question, she came across as friendly and engaging. I know that sounds trite, but she obviously enjoyed meeting readers, and she handled both signings with warmth and a great deal of patience.” She thought she’d leave out any mention of the incident.

  “That’s what I thought. I knew she’d be nice and generous with her ideas, since she’d agreed to meet me and look over my work. At least, I’d hoped she would. It doesn’t really matter now, though.” She sniffed, then replaced the sadness with a smile. “Do the police have any leads? I’d hate to think this is another murder that ends up in a true-crime novel as an unsolved story.”

  “I haven’t heard. The police chief is on top of things, though. She’s good at her job.”

  Rachel nodded. “That’s good to know. And I’m really happy you have a copy of the book. Thanks for talking to me about Savannah.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Shelby phoned the main store as soon as Rachel left, relaying the message to put the book aside before she forgot to do so. She also told Trudy that she needed at least one of the remaining copies for the castle.

  She felt a bit down after that conversation. Rachel had seemed very sincere and disappointed. And Savannah had been really pleasant to talk to. Generous was probably a good description, also. And now she was gone.

  It wasn’t right.

  Taylor phoned a little bit later to apologize and say she wouldn’t be in. “I really am sorry,” she added.

  “That’s all right. You know you don’t have to come in, right?” Shelby reiterated. “In fact, I usually hope you won’t.”

  “Yes, I know I don’t have to, but I feel like I’m using you. I come in when I can’t stand it at home, and then I opt out when she’s being reasonable.”

  Shelby laughed. “Well, I don’t feel like I’m being used at all. And it’s all good. I’m glad you two are getting along these days.”

  “For now. But you’re right, it is good. I’d hate to think we were destined to be at odds for the rest of our lives, especially with children involved. And I know it upsets Chuck if I talk about how I feel, so I admit that I’m using you as a sounding board. Thanks for being so understanding. Is the door still open when I need it?”

  “You bet, but part of me is hoping not to see you unless it’s at your house.”

  “Yippee. That sounds like you’re thinking of stopping in sometime. If you’re free for tea next Monday, hope you’ll come by. Although I know how precious your day off is. You probably already have a dozen things booked. Just be sure to give me fair warning so I can make myself presentable.”

  Shelby chuckled. “I can’t imagine you being anything but. Take care.”

  The call left her in a good mood, shaking away the earlier gloom brought on by thoughts of Savannah.

  Before locking up at the end of the day, Shelby tracked down Chrissie, hoping she hadn’t already left. She had questions to ask about the missing plans, and since Cody wasn’t around to supply more details about the plan from the store, Chrissie was next on her list. Chrissie had said that her day would be filled with shadowing the volunteers and talking to them, all with the intent of drawing up new guidelines for the following year.

  Hearing some excited chatter in the back kitchen, Shelby headed there, and she was pleased to find Chrissie and two middle-aged women and one teen huddled around the table. Even though the kitchen was not in use as such, it had been set up as a working kitchen, and the area around the table was off-limits. Unless you were a coordinator, obviously.

  She knocked on the doorframe, and Chrissie looked over. “Can I talk to you when you have a minute?” Shelby asked.

  Chrissie nodded. “Now will work. Okay, ladies, that’s it for today. Thanks for your input.”

  The three rushed out and could be heard still chattering all the way down the hall.

  “What’s up?”

  Now that she had Chrissie’s attention, Shelby wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to ask. “I’m just really curious about the theft of those plans. There’s no way of knowing who took them or when?”

  Chrissie paused a moment, as if digesting Shelby’s questions. Then she smiled. “You’re thinking of investigating this, aren’t you? Just like before.”

  “Not really. I mean, I don’t have a reason to do anything, but I’m wondering just how easy it would be to do such a thing. Have thefts of large items happened before all this?”

  Chrissie looped her arm through Shelby’s and steered her out of the room and toward the grand hall. “I’m all for you looking into it, you know. This is not good publicity for the castle, and that’s my main priority as PR person. And, if it got out how easy it appears to be to get in here and steal something …” She left the thought hanging but punctuated it with a shudder.

  “So, are you saying it has happened before?”

  “Nothing large or awkward in size but like I said, there have been a few small items that have disappeared over the years, but nothing major, as in something large enough that it had to have been taken overnight. And it must be widely known that we have an alarm—well, at least a motion sensor—so that’s got to be a deterrent. But since those were turned off the night Savannah stayed over, well, it was almost an invitation to someone wanting to break in.”

  “But who would know that it was turned off?”

  “The board. Matthew Kessler. Savannah and her fiancé, I’d guess. Security. The butler. Quite a few people, actually.”

  “What’s Matthew’s role in security?” Shelby knew what he thought it should be. She was curious if that’s how the board saw it, too.

  Chrissie snorted. “None. What can an old man do? People are aware he lives on the island, so I guess that’s a bit of a deterrent, but his main job is taking care of the grounds, not guarding the contents. I don’t fault Matthew at all.”

  That’s good, Shelby thought, remembering how everyone had jumped on the bandwagon to accuse Matthew last time there had been a murder on the island. She bristled on his behalf at his being labeled an old man, though.

  “So, what specifically has gone missing and when?”

  Chrissie stopped walking and turned to face Shelby. “We don’t do a dai
ly or weekly or even monthly inventory, as I’ve already told you. That would take too long, and besides, it would be ridiculous.” She paused for a moment and then shook her head. “No, it’s not necessary. It’s been mainly items that can be slipped into a pocket or a backpack, like the brush from Millicent Blye’s dressing table and Thomas Blye’s collapsible cane. It’s just those frigging plans that are causing the major headache.”

  “But don’t you think it’s odd that the thief would steal the plans after breaking into the castle? Aren’t those something he would need beforehand? Just saying …”

  Chrissie’s jaw dropped. “I hadn’t thought about it much. But I guess he must have known about the tunnels already but wanted the plans to find specific rooms quickly.”

  “And there was nothing significant missing from any other rooms?”

  “Not that I know of. The surrounding area was thoroughly searched, and we’re continuing to do so throughout the castle on a segmented basis.”

  “Which means?”

  Chrissie rolled her eyes. “There are two volunteers who have broken down the rooms into sections, and they are doing an inventory one section at a time. So, you see, we have it in hand.”

  Shelby gave her a reassuring smile. “It sounds like you do. That’s good. Let me know if I can help in any way. Gotta run now.” She wiggled her fingers and set off in a fast walk.

  Chrissie called out as Shelby walked away, “You know, I doubt we’ll recover any of the items, and I don’t think we’ll ever find the thief. At least, Chief Stone doesn’t hold out a lot of hope.”

  Shelby turned and replied, “You never know. Fingers crossed.” If only there were cameras.

  Chrissie nodded and walked in the other direction. Shelby kept returning to the same dilemma that two plans had gone missing, one from the castle and one from the bookstore. She wondered yet again why the thief, or killer, would need the one from the castle after taking the one from the store.