A Page Marked for Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  Chapter Eighteen

  Addie eased onto the ice-cold driver’s seat. A shiver quivered through her. She set the beach basket beside her and tugged a corner of a towel from the bottom around Pippi to help keep the chill off. Addie bounced her legs, and she jostled in her seat to keep warm as she waited for the frosty glaze to clear from her windshield. Her mind raced with information overload.

  She wasn’t certain if the constant gnawing in her gut was from hunger or the fact that she still didn’t have a big-picture image of the situation with Martha, Brett, Ken, or the book, and how or if it all fit together—whatever the cause, it sat unsettled in her. She knew it had been a long day only made longer by the fact that they’d only sold four books in total.

  The investigation next door had taken its toll. And as far as she knew and confirmed by Simon, the blood evidence discovered in Martha’s Bakery wasn’t the victim’s. Given the amount of apparatus removed from the shop for testing, combined with her not having heard from Simon, it was clear he was still working in the lab and had come up empty on discovering the weapon. As far as she could tell, the entire day hadn’t yielded any results in the case other than putting a damper on the surrounding businesses, which was good news for Paige and the rest of Martha’s family.

  On the journey home, it became clear that all her erratic thoughts were wearing on her ability to concentrate. On her way up the hill to her home, she had glanced at Pippi and nearly rear-ended her neighbor’s car parked on the street. Enough was enough today, and she struck five items off her mental to-do list for the evening, leaving only food, a hot bath, and much-needed sleep.

  When she turned into her driveway, she slowed to a crawl. It appeared Kalea was home, but she wasn’t alone. Parked in front of the house was the black BMW. “Maybe we can get at least one answer to all those question marks, hey girl?” She grinned at Pippi, shouldered the basket, and headed up the wide porch steps. Before she could get to the door, it flung open and Kalea flounced out. Addie darted to the side to avoid the impending collision with her cousin and her companion.

  “Oh, hey there, Cuz. You startled me.” Kalea patted her chest. “I didn’t expect you home so soon.” She gave an awkward side glance to the striking dark-haired man accompanying her as he stepped out onto the porch. “Well, have a wonderful evening.” She waved a bottle in her hand and linked her arm through the man’s. “We’re on our way to a business dinner and have to run.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Addie locked in on the bottle of champagne that she’d been saving for a special occasion and then pointed that gaze to her cousin, who looked everywhere but at her. “I think we need to talk, and soon, don’t you?” Addie pinned her with her best don’t-be-afraid-of-me-but-I’m-going-to-scratch-your-eyes-out look and flicked her gaze from Kalea’s flushed complexion to the man’s bewildered expression. “I need a few minutes of your time, now.” Addie would have stomped her foot for emphasis but refrained in fear that in the frigid evening weather it would shatter like glass. She settled for grabbing Kalea’s jacket sleeve as she attempted to descend the top step.

  Kalea shrugged off Addie’s arm. “You know I’m busy, and I can’t always drop everything to help you solve whatever little problem you’re having at this moment. I’m sure it’s something you can work out on your own this time, but like I said, we have a meeting to get to. People are waiting for us.”

  The man produced a silver business card holder from the inside pocket of his black lamb’s wool trench coat, slipped a card out, and dropped it into Addie’s straw tote bag. “Call me when you get back on your feet. I’m sure I will be able to help you get set up again.”

  He followed Kalea down the stairs and placed his hand on the small of her back as she strutted across the driveway to the BMW, her long amber waves swinging in time with her hips.

  Addie overheard the man saying, “I must say, you do have an exquisite taste in champagne, my dear. I’m certain it will be the hit of the evening.”

  “Of course I do, darling. This is a celebration after all, isn’t it?” Kalea cooed and leaned into him. Addie could almost hear Kalea purring.

  “True, true.” His lips nuzzled her cheek as he leaned past her and opened the car door. “And, I will say after meeting your cousin, I clearly see how unselfish and noble it was of you to invite her to come live in your fabulous home. I certainly hope she comes to appreciate all you’ve done for her in time. That little bit of tough love you showed back there was probably exactly what she needed given how needy you’ve told me she is.”

  Addie looked aghast at the man, and her mind struggled to process what he was saying. Her mystified glare caught Kalea’s. Her cousin’s eyes flashed with a burst of horror. It was clear that Kalea could tell by the look on Addie’s face that she’d heard everything Mystery Man said. Kalea reached for the door handle, glanced away, and slammed it closed. Addie stood frozen on the spot. Did that just happen?

  How dare her cousin treat her like that and lead this man to believe that this house was Kalea’s and Addie was the houseguest. Addie flung the door open, set the basket on the floor, and kicked off her boots. To heck with food. She needed a stiff drink after that little show. She stomped into the living room and stopped short.

  There on the coffee table were the four first-edition books Addie had recently discovered in one of the many remaining boxes in the attic and had been appraising. Except now, instead of being neatly stacked with a sheet of vellum paper placed between each book to protect the fragile leather covers, they were strewn across the coffee table, as though they were mere corner-store magazines.

  “I’m done. If I have to, I’ll change the locks on the doors.” She spun around and had started toward the kitchen when a knock on the door halted her steps.

  “What?” she spat as she flung it open.

  A wide-eyed Serena stared back at her. “I come in peace, really.” She held out a foil-covered pan clutched in her hands.

  “Oh, Serena, I’m sorry.” Addie stepped to the side. “Please come in. I’m just seething over my cousin’s latest antics and really didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  Serena set the pan down on the side table in the large foyer and removed her jacket and boots. “I saw her leaving with that fellow and wondered if you’d finally gotten the opportunity to put a name to the face.”

  “I got more than I bargained for.” Addie glanced at the tray. “Is that lasagna from Mario’s Ristorante by chance?”

  A full-mouthed grin spread across Serena’s face. “It is. I stopped and picked us up some on my way home. That is unless you’ve already eaten?”

  “No, I was going to forgo food and just drink before”—Addie sniffed in a deep breath—“I smelled that.”

  “Come on, then. Let’s dish up, and you can tell me what Kalea’s done this time.”

  “Do you have all night?” Addie marched to the kitchen and skidded to a stop at the door. “I can’t believe this.”

  Serena strode over to the kitchen island and picked up an empty wooden box of hot-smoked imported salmon, pushed aside a half-eaten tin of Siberian caviar, and flicked at a White Stilton Gold cheese wrapping, whooshing it across the countertop. “Wasn’t all this in that exotic gift basket Jonathan sent you from who knows where, for Christmas?”

  Addie fought back the tears burning behind her eyes. “Yeah, and in it was also the bottle of French champagne that she left with.” Addie waved her hand over the island. “All this I was keeping to serve at your wedding shower this spring. Except the champagne. I was keeping that for another special occasion, but it doesn’t matter. She knew that, and she had no right.”

  “No, she didn’t, but it’s too late now.” Serena pulled a trash bag out of one of the drawers and dropped the refuse from the counter into it. “You’ll have to wait until she comes home to speak to her about crossing boundaries and all that. Remember the talk you had when she first moved in? I think it’s time for a refresher course.” The can of caviar kerplunked on the wo
oden salmon box in the bottom of the bag.

  “Talk to her?” Addie rinsed a kitchen cloth under hot water and scoured the top of the counter. “I don’t even know who she is anymore. You should have heard what was said tonight.” Addie proceeded to relay the odd conversation that took place, as Serena set out two place settings on the counter and pulled out the stools.

  “I have no idea what she’s up to.” Addie cut into the pan of lasagna, and using a spatula, plopped two servings on the plates. “But knowing her, it’s to no good, especially if she’s lying to the guy.”

  “Does this guy have a name yet?” Serena glanced over the top of her water glass at Addie.

  “Neither of them said, but—” She jumped up and dashed down the hall to the front door and returned, waving a business card in her hand and her laptop in the other. “He did leave me this when he told me to call after I got myself together.”

  “He actually said that?”

  “Maybe not those exact words but something similar.” Addie sat back down and turned the card over in her hand. “Jared Munroe—Private Financial Broker.” She looked up at Serena. “Why would Kalea need one of those?”

  “Does she have any money you don’t know about?”

  Addie thought for a minute. “If she does, she’s never mentioned it to me.”

  “You did say they appeared to be romantically involved, so it’s most likely not a business relationship,” Serena said, before scarfing the last bits of her lasagna down.

  “But she said they were on their way to a business dinner, so it doesn’t make sense.”

  “What does it say on the computer about him?”

  “Give me a minute.” Addie swallowed and wiped her fingers on a paper napkin, scrunched it into a ball beside her hand, and typed across the keyboard. “This must be him.” She clicked on a link. “Yes, this is the guy.” She swung the laptop around toward Serena.

  “Wow, he’s GQ cover material, isn’t he?”

  “Would you expect less from my cousin?”

  “No, I guess not.” Serena pointed to a line on the screen. “But look, it says he has an MBA from Harvard and currently works as a private fiduciary financial advisor and investment broker. His firm has a five-star rating with a number of large corporations. See here, they’re all listed on the sidebar.” She glanced at Addie. “What does fiduciary advisor mean?”

  “It means he’s actually licensed with the United States Securities and Exchange Commission and state regulators. He’s the real deal, and not just some run-of-the-mill financial advisor. Look, his corporate office address is in Boston, but it says there’s a satellite office in Salem.” Addie sat back and stared at the screen. “I bet he lives in Salem, at least part-time.”

  “That would account for him being in Greyborne Harbor on business, wouldn’t it?”

  “It could, but why would Kalea be going to a meeting with him?”

  “Maybe she’s gone to work for him?” Serena said, as she cleared the plates from the counter and rinsed them in the sink.

  “It could be. She was a paralegal, so that might make sense.”

  “It also could be the reason she doesn’t care about her job at the bookstore anymore. She’s got something better now.”

  Addie closed the laptop. “If that’s the case, then she should have talked to me and explained instead of pulling what she did, and it doesn’t account for her behavior tonight, or the fact that she’s misleading this guy into thinking this is her house. My gut tells me she’s up to something else.”

  “There’s nothing I see here that is relevant to the missing book or the murder, so we can probably take his name off that board of yours. I’d say after reading this, his being in town is a coincidence and most likely related to a business investment. You were probably right. The argument you saw between Brett and Mr. GQ was over something else. However . . .” Serena’s eyes flashed with a mysterious gleam.

  “What? Don’t leave me hanging.”

  “Elli did come through today. That girl sure can turn on the charm when she needs to.”

  “Something I believe she learned from her mother, Maggie. In her real-estate dealings, she’s known to flip on and off that same charm in an instant.”

  “I don’t care how Elli got it, but all she had to do was bat those false black lashes of hers and that young police recruit, Curtis, was singing his heart out to her.”

  “Stop with the dramatics. What did he say?”

  “He said . . .” Serena sat down beside Addie and toyed with the scrunched-up napkin on the counter.

  “Serena, for you to torment me like this, it better be good.”

  “Blood residue was found by the sink in the bakery, and it appeared that someone had tried to clean it up, but it still glowed under that special light the police use.”

  “I heard that, but Simon told me this afternoon it wasn’t a match to Brett’s.”

  “Did Simon also tell you Brett’s fingerprints were all over the bakery?”

  “I know he was there. I saw him and Ken coming out of the bakery Friday morning, so it stands to reason his prints would be found.”

  “Did you tell Marc?”

  Addie thought back to the statement she’d made on Sunday and shook her head. “I can’t remember.”

  “Maybe you should because now they’re working on the premise that there was a third person involved in committing the murder, and if they can identify who the blood belongs to, they can figure out who Martha’s accomplice was because it’s not a match for Martha’s either.”

  “It seems that nothing that turns up helps her case, does it?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Addie scanned over the brown paper she’d lain out on the breakfast nook table.

  “Are you sure we’re not missing anything that we added to the shop board earlier?” asked Serena, leaning over her shoulder.

  “Not as far as I can see.”

  “You can probably take that black marker and strike out ‘Mystery Man’ since we now know who he is, and that he’s here for legitimate reasons.”

  Addie’s hand hovered over the notation on the paper and drew it back. “Yeah, but I can’t shake the feeling I had when I saw them arguing in the park. There was something about Jared’s and Brett’s body language that told me they weren’t strangers.”

  “That’s most likely because Brett ended up dead two days later, so you’re looking at everyone as a suspect.”

  “You’re right because I can’t believe Martha did it, and I’m desperate to find someone else to sic the police on.” She made a firm, bold stroke through Mystery Man. Addie’s gaze read through the notations. “It also means we have even less than we did before, and nothing here is going to help Martha or Paige.”

  A text alert pinged on Serena’s phone, and she fished it out of her jean pocket. “It’s Zach. He got off early and is on his way home.”

  “Tell him we have some leftover Mario’s lasagna if he’s hungry.”

  Serena’s thumbs tapped out her reply, and she grinned. “He’ll be here in five. I’ll heat it up for him.” She retrieved the pan from the refrigerator, scooped out a serving onto a plate, and slid it into the microwave. “He’s not a fan of nuked food, but”—she shrugged—“what can he expect at nine p.m.?”

  “I’ll put the kettle on and make a pot of tea. What kind are you in the mood for?” Addie searched through a small cupboard filled with assorted packages of SerenaTEA blends.

  “My old standby in the evening is still Heavenly Delight unless you prefer another one, like the Beddy Time blend?”

  “No, I need to relax but not conk out. I think that one has valerian root in it, doesn’t it?”

  Serena grinned. “Look at you, learning your tea blends. I’m impressed.”

  “Only the ones that taste like dirt.” She smirked and gave Serena a little hip check.

  “That’ll be him. I’ll get it.” Serena scampered down the hallway at the sound of knocking.

  �
��Hey, Zach.” Addie waved from a counter stool. “It’s nice you could get off early tonight. Was the Grey Gull Inn slow?”

  “Yeah, the large police presence around today didn’t help.” He settled his lanky body onto the stool beside Addie.

  “Why? What happened?” Serena’s voice warbled as she set his plate in front of him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just that apparently the fellow who was killed was staying there, and his girlfriend still is. So, the police have had a couple of units searching their room and questioning everyone in the inn who might have had contact with them.” He dug into the pile of juicy tomato, noodles, and cheese. “This is so good.” He bent down to scoop in another mouthful, and his elbow bumped Addie’s laptop. It flickered back onto the last opened page. “Sorry, I’m just so hungry. None of us got a dinner break because we had to take our turn talking to the police and had to cover each other for that.” He glanced at the screen. “Hey, I know that guy.”

  Addie’s eyes flashed to the screen. The photo of Jared Munroe stared back at her. “This guy?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him around a few times lately and saw him again tonight, too.”

  Serena looked at Addie and then back at Zach. “Is he staying at the inn?”

  “Not as far as I know, but he’s been there a few times. Like tonight, when I took a bag of trash out before I left. He was having an argument with the dead guy’s girlfriend in the parking lot.”

  “What!” Addie and Serena cried in unison.

  Addie’s eyes flashed. “Did you hear what it was about?”

  “Not much, I was too far away. Except that guy”—he motioned with his fork—“yelled, ‘I want my money,’ and then got real close in her face and said something else that made her flinch back. I hung by a car to make sure he didn’t get physical with her.”

  “Did he?” Serena clasped his arm.

  “No, he left, and after a few minutes of sitting in her car, she did, too.”

  “Was Kalea with him?” Serena asked, her fingers gripping his arm tighter.

  He twisted his arm to release her hold on him. “No, I didn’t see her.”