“And you’re sure that when you came back this afternoon, you didn’t notice anything disturbed?”
“No, nothing.”
“And now that you know the book is missing?”
Addie hesitated.
“What?”
“There is one thing . . . I just thought of . . . ” Addie padded down the hallway, Pippi close on her heels, and stopped in the entrance to the living room. “Today, when I went through the photo album, it was closed on the coffee table.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that when Martha and I were here on Friday, it was lying open. That’s when I spotted the picture of her, Gloria, and Martha’s ex-husband, Ken. But when I came back today, I’m positive it was closed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! I remember. I let Pippi outside and sat down to look through it while I waited for her to finish her business. I flipped the cover open. I remember clearly now.”
“You’re positive that when you were finished up on Friday, you left it open? No one else has been in here since you came earlier today?”
“Yes, I’m certain I left it open, and according to Gloria, no one else has a key.”
“Unless Martha isn’t being honest with us, and she did come back later before she was picked up.”
Chapter Eleven
Addie switched the defrost to high when her Mini warmed up enough to blow hot air. The spirals of ice crystals across the windshield dissolved, clearing her view, but she remained motionless in the police station parking lot. The conversation she and Carolyn had on their return drive to the station played over in her mind. It left Addie with a twisted sensation in her gut.
On one hand, she could understand why her friend thought Martha was lying about not going back to Gloria’s house. As Carolyn pointed out, Addie had just informed her of the book’s worth. On the other hand, as Addie tried to argue eloquently, why would Martha steal a book that belonged to her own daughter? If the value of it made her have second thoughts about it being loaned out to Gloria, wouldn’t she just say so and take it back? Why lie? No, something didn’t fit.
As a visual person, Addie needed to see it in black and white, and she knew exactly where she had to go to do that. She shifted into reverse and glanced at her rearview mirror. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of two little bright shining marbles reflecting in the parking lot lights, and stopped. The woeful look in Pippi’s eyes, coupled with the fact that she had Baxter’s ear clamped between her tiny jaws, told Addie she’d had enough adventure for the day. It was time to head home.
Addie chuckled. “Okay, you win. The blackboard at the bookstore can wait until tomorrow. I’ve had to make do at home in a pinch before, and I’m sure I can do it again.”
She missed having Simon and Serena around to bounce her ideas off. Serena and Zach were at the tree burning festival—an event Addie didn’t think she could cope with after the day she’d had—and Simon . . . well . . . she assumed since she hadn’t heard from him, he was still working in the lab at the hospital. For a fleeting moment, she considered heading there now, but just as quickly pushed the thought away. Convincing the clerk at the information desk that Pippi was an emotional support animal for a patient was one thing, but for Dr. Emerson, that might not bode well for Simon’s professional reputation.
* * *
Addie pulled up in front of her house, snatched the basket off the front seat, and bounded up the wide porch stairs. There was no sign of lights on anywhere in her three-story Victorian, which meant Kalea was out and the conversation Addie needed to have with her was put on hold, again. Addie wasn’t looking forward to it, but her cousin had gotten out of control lately, and it was wearing not only on her at home, but also with Paige at the store. After today, Paige definitely didn’t need the added stress of Kalea’s I-me-mine attitude. At the first opportunity, Addie would have to make that clear to her cousin. Kalea needed to hear the shape-up-or-ship-out speech before Addie lost Paige over the whole thing. In Addie’s mind, Paige was worth a dozen Kaleas, relative or not.
After eating her kibble and taking a trip out to the dog run, Pippi hunkered down on a warm rug in front of the crackling fire Addie had lit, her eyes following Addie’s every movement. Addie proceeded to haul out a large roll of brown paper and masking tape from the bottom of her 1880s antique French Baroque carved hutch buffet. This very paper had come in handy in the past, and it didn’t take her long to fix a sheet by all four corners to the wall on the left side of her fireplace. After a quick search through the top drawer of her aunt’s antique desk, she found a black felt-tipped marker and was ready to roll.
Addie stared blankly at the sheet of paper. She crossed her arms and glanced down at the relocated Pippi asleep in her dog bed beside the sofa. Her head snuggled on top of Baxter’s. “Some help you’re going to be,” Addie said, and refocused on the blank sheet. “Think, Addie, you have two mysteries here, and they’re unrelated. So, where do you start? You take it one at a time.” Addie drew a vertical line down the center of the paper. At the top of the left column, she wrote Murder, and on the right column, Book.
Under the Murder heading, she started with what she knew, which wasn’t much. Not having a direct pipeline to Marc anymore made it more difficult to get information, but she knew there might be something here that could help her eventually see the big picture.
Victim—Brett Palmer—Paige’s ex—Emma’s (Martha and Ken’s granddaughter) father
Murder weapon???
Murder scene???
Crime scene—alley behind Martha’s Bakery
Victim involved in two very public family disagreements—Brett, Martha, Ken Stringer (Paige’s father/Martha’s ex)
And . . . Addie stood back and studied what she’d written. Those were the only people she had noticed caught up in the shouting match at the park on Friday night, but what about on the beach Saturday? She wracked her brain to visualize the scene. Right!
Keith—husband to Mellissa (Paige’s eldest sister and son-in-law to Martha and Ken) broke up fist fight between Brett and Ken
Her hand wavered over the paper, but there was someone else there. Addie replayed the scene over and over: Paige left in tears, followed by Elli, both girls disappeared into the crowd on the boardwalk, Addie turned around to see what was going on with the fight and . . . That was it.
Unknown woman???
Whoever she was, Martha had made it clear she wasn’t a welcome participant when she had wagged her finger in the woman’s face and shouted at her. Addie added beside Unknown woman???—Martha had altercation with . . .
She made a mental note to find out who she was and how she fit into this family drama scene.
She stood back and reread her notes. There wasn’t much to go on, but it was a start, and hopefully, Simon would be able to add some answers to the question marks once he completed the autopsy. She moved over to the right side of paper under Book.
The Secret Garden—belonged to Paige and Emma, gift from Ken, Martha’s ex—Paige’s father—on loan to Gloria
Gloria fall—in hospital
Book last seen—Gloria’s nightstand—by Addie and Martha
Martha informed of 25K value of book
Spare key to Gloria’s house—Martha
Book gone—Martha denies any knowledge—no indication of a break-in
Addie stopped writing and considered how many times over the course of filling in clues in both columns she had written Martha’s name. “Wowsers!” She dropped the pen. Her eyes darted between columns and she did a quick mental calculation. “Maybe Carolyn was right after all.”
She jumped when the doorbell buzzed, and Pippi shot out of her bed, barking madly as she raced to the front door. Addie followed behind, laughing. In all the time she had lived here, only one person ever used the antiquated door ringer. She opened the door and flung her arms around Simon, who gave a startled laugh and hugged her back.
“And to what do I
owe such a warm greeting from both of my favorite girls?” He reached down and playfully rubbed Pippi’s ear.
Addie tugged at his coat and pulled him into the foyer, closing the door behind him. “Because I’ve missed you”—she stood on tippy-toes and kissed his lips—“and I need your brain.”
“That sounds a bit ominous.” He gave her a sidelong glance and hung his jacket on the coatrack behind the door.
Addie willed herself not to laugh at the expression of mock horror on Simon’s face, but it was hard not to. “Don’t worry. I haven’t turned into a zombie or anything,” she said, managing not to look at him while she regained some semblance of control. “Can I get you a coffee, tea—”
“I think . . . after the day I’ve had, I need something a bit stronger.” A smirk replaced his feigned frown of suspicion as he headed across the living room to the antique walnut liquor cart, grabbed a bottle of scotch from the bottom shelf, poured a drink, knocked it back, and poured another. “Ah, much better.” Simon settled onto the overstuffed sofa and laid his head back.
Addie slid onto the thread-worn, wide arm of the sofa beside him and gently stroked his taut brow. “Bad day?”
He rolled his head to the side and set his blue eyes on hers. A weak smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “More like frustrating.”
“How so?”
He raised his head and took a sip of his drink. “Because I still have more questions than answers.”
“Like what?”
“See that question mark on your note beside ‘murder weapon’?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I still don’t have a clue what was used to kill the victim.”
“Nothing?”
“No. I couldn’t match it to any known tools. I checked databases for common gardening tools, woodworking, construction equipment, and contemporary weapons. Nothing. I came up completely blank on all of it.”
“What about the murder scene? Did the autopsy reveal what you suspected, and Brett was killed somewhere else and then moved?”
“That was the only positive of my day.” He swirled his drink and set it on the coffee table. “With the volume of blood loss, Martha’s Bakery, at least outside, wasn’t the murder scene. I haven’t heard back from Marc yet, so I don’t know if the crime team found anything inside the bakery. If there’s no evidence there, the police have to cast a wider net to find something that might shed light on all this.” He picked up his drink and took a large swallow. “See what I mean about a frustrating day? I hate it when an autopsy doesn’t yield any conclusions.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.” She placed her hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “At some point, it will all click into place, and then you’ll see the missing piece to the puzzle.” Her gaze settled back on the sheet of paper. The question marks jumped out at her, but so did the eleven mentions of Martha’s name. Something else popped off the page. It wasn’t what she had written on the board, but what she hadn’t written. She jumped up, seized the pen from the floor where it had fallen, and scribbled:
Cliff—found missing house key in area already searched!
She underscored the last two words for emphasis.
Chapter Twelve
Addie glanced over her shoulder from the makeshift crime board, and a grin crept across her face. Simon had fallen asleep, and snuggled in his arms was Pippi, her head nestled under his chin. Addie tiptoed behind the sofa and draped a blanket over the sleeping duo. She inched her way over to the sheet of paper and slowly peeled back the corners of the tape to remove it from the wall. She wasn’t sure if her cousin was coming home tonight, but why leave her evidence sheet out to distract from the more pertinent conversation they had to have?
She glanced at the sheet of paper clutched in her hands as she made her way to the kitchen, where she could fold it and not worry about the noise waking her sleeping guests. She wasn’t certain why she had the compulsion to hide it from her cousin’s sight. There was no mention of Kalea on it and if her self-absorbed cousin were to see the paper and realize her name wasn’t written on it, she’d probably forget it even existed anyway.
However, just in case, Addie slipped the folded paper into the straw tote along with baggies full of kibble in preparation for the following day at the bookstore. She flipped off the light, crept up the stairs, and collapsed onto her bed, kicking her slippers free. The thought of washing and changing into pajamas was more than she could bear. It was no wonder Simon had drifted off. It had been a long, strange day for everyone.
* * *
Addie snuggled deeper into her pillow. Out of recent habit, her hand reached out beside her and patted . . . nothing. Pippi? Her eyes flew open, and she bolted upright. Daybreak peeked through the curtains, and Addie’s still fully clothed body reminded her of the exhausted state she had been in. As she tossed the duvet back, she vaguely recalled hearing the pop, boom, and whiz of fireworks at some point during her sleep. That must have been when she pulled the blankets up and retreated into a deeper dreamless sleep, because she remembered nothing after that.
She wedged her feet into her house slippers, stumbled to the bathroom, threw some cold water over her face, brushed her long hair up into a ponytail, and padded out into the hallway. She paused. Kalea’s door was ajar. Her ears pricked for signs of life coming from behind it. Hearing nothing, she peeked in. The bed was unmade but empty. Addie had no idea if her cousin had been home last night because, judging by the clothes in crumpled heaps around the room, making her bed and tidying, like most domestic chores around the house, wasn’t on her cousin’s list of accomplishments.
Addie swung around the bottom of the banister railing and glanced into the living room at Simon still on the sofa. The gentle fall and rise of his chest accompanied by intermittent soft snores reassured her. At some point in the night, Pippi had drifted onto her own bed beside the sofa and to the comfort of her buddy, Baxter. She must have sensed Addie’s presence though because her ears perked, and she scrambled toward Addie, down the hall, through the kitchen. By the time Addie caught up to her, she was wagging her tail in a frantic dance by the back door.
Morning mission accomplished, Addie dropped a pod into her coffee maker and waited for it to brew. As Pippi munched happily on her breakfast of Kibbles ’n Bits, Addie settled onto a counter stool and pulled a sheet of paper toward her.
I had to go to Boston Saturday afternoon, got back late last night, but had to go out early today.
I won’t be into the store.
Don’t hold dinner for me.
Love, K
The paper may have been white and Kalea may have drawn a blue heart after her first initial, but Addie saw red. She crumpled the note into a ball and flung it across the kitchen with such force that it bounced out the door and into the hallway.
Simon peered around the doorframe. His dark hair looked adorable all tufted askew. “Do I enter at my own risk?”
“Yes !” she snapped. “This is a highly explosive area.” Addie seized her coffee cup and took a large swig, but she couldn’t help laughing at his sheepish expression and tussled hair. Coffee snorted out her nostrils. “Ouch!” She grabbed her burning nose. “See what you’ve gone and made me do?”
“Really?” A grin that engaged his dimples spread across his face. “You’re going to blame that on me?”
“I have to. Kalea’s not here, and I have to be mad at someone.”
“On one hand, I’m relieved it’s not me you’re upset with considering I fell asleep on you last night.” He slid onto a stool beside Addie’s. “On the other, do I dare ask what she’s done this time?”
“She just up and took off again without even checking if it worked for Paige or me at the store.”
“In her defense, she might not have heard about what happened yesterday and had no idea that Paige wouldn’t be around today. Maybe Kalea simply thought it would be business as usual, and it wouldn’t matter.”
“That’s not the point. She’s an
employee, and she just can’t come and go as she pleases. Something, for whatever reason, she’s recently decided it’s okay to do.” Addie swirled her coffee around in her mug. “The real kicker is since she has such a sense of entitlement and always has, she’ll expect a full paycheck in the middle of the month, and the argument will be on about that, too.”
“One day at a time. That’s not for over a week. Things might turn around for better by then.”
“I don’t see that happening.” Addie shook her head. “I knew when I gave her a job and took her into my home, there would be challenges, but I did it because she’s family, and I thought—no, hoped—that she had grown up since college, and we could make it work.” Addie stared down into her cup. “But this week, she’s really pushed it too far, and the note she left this morning is the final straw. She’s done. The bind she has left me in at the bookstore again today is one too many family ties tested.”
He reached over and laced his fingers with hers, his thumb stroking small circles over the back of her hand. “The last few days have been tough, and until this is all sorted out, I don’t expect things to get better for you, or for anyone involved. Don’t make a rash decision today that you might regret in the future. As you said, she is family and one of the last remaining blood ties you have.”
“Blood tie, maybe, but family? No.” Her gaze captured his. “You, Serena, Zach, Paige, Catherine, Carolyn and her brood. You’re my real family.”
He leaned in. His lips brushed hers, and he pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “I love you.”
His words made her stomach flutter. She opened her mouth to utter the words back to him—words that had, until now, been so hard for her to repeat. The screech of a siren split the air between them, and the moment was lost . . . once again.
A Page Marked for Murder Page 9