A Page Marked for Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out. I just have a couple of questions, and you can answer them, so we can all get to the bottom of this.”

  “Okay, if talking to you can help get Brett’s body released. What do you want to know?”

  “I have no connection to the police department, so I can’t help you with that,” Addie said as she walked down the stairs and met Amber’s cynical gaze. “But I know Brett owed money to Jared Munroe.”

  A look of fear replaced the cynicism in Amber’s eyes, and she turned and started to walk away.

  Addie grabbed her coat sleeve. “Please, don’t you want to find out who really killed the man you love?”

  Amber stopped, but she didn’t turn around. “Yes,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper, “he owed him money.”

  “And a source tells me that Jared threatened you about that money.”

  Amber spun on her heel and pinned Addie with a glare. “Are you sure you’re not a cop or a reporter?”

  “I swear.” Addie crossed her heart.

  “Yes, Brett owed him money, and we figured out a way to get it, so he could pay back that bloodsucker once and for all. Every time Brett made a payment, Jared upped the interest, and it seemed we’d never be free of the debt.”

  Addie locked her gaze with Amber’s. “Did that plan include stealing Paige’s book? Is that how you figured out a way to pay off the loan?”

  “You sure you’re not a cop?” Addie nodded. “Well . . . yes,” Amber choked, and broke her gaze from Addie’s. “Ken told Brett about the book he’d given Paige one night when they were drinking. I overheard them talking, and according to what Ken said, it sounded like it might be worth some serious cash. I did a little research and found out what it might be worth.”

  “So, Brett came to Greyborne Harbor with the sole intent of stealing the book?”

  “Partially.” She twisted her gloved fingers around the strap of her purse. “I found out the week before that I couldn’t have children of my own. We’d been trying for a year, and we thought maybe we could share custody of Emma. I was pretty shaken up by the news from my doctor, and Brett thought that might help me feel better. He knew Emma’s birthday was coming up and decided that would be the perfect time to visit and inform Paige we wanted at least partial custody and . . . well, to steal the book.”

  “Did he steal it? Or had someone beat him to it?”

  “No, everything was going as planned except he discovered Paige had loaned it out, but he got hold of that woman’s house keys, went in and got the book, and hid it until we could sell it to get the money to pay Jared.”

  “But he didn’t pay Jared, did he? That’s why after Brett was found dead, Jared threatened you, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you know what happened to the book after Brett took it?”

  Amber shook her head. “He just told me it was safe, but then he told me the plan had changed. We weren’t going to sell and pay Jared. We were going to keep the money.” She put her face in her hands and sobbed. “He never told me where the book was, and Jared kept coming at me for the money. I’m going to end up dead, too, because Jared must have found out Brett was going to double-cross him.”

  Addie wanted to reach out and comfort the distraught woman, but Amber’s confession to the theft made Addie recoil instead. “Did Jared know where the money was coming from? Did he know about the book?”

  “I don’t know if he knew, but that’s why I’m so desperate to get Brett’s body released so I can get out of here, get him buried, and go into hiding. But why am I telling you this? Although, it feels good to tell someone, finally.” Amber glanced over her shoulder. “Look, I gotta go. I don’t want Jared to see me around and come after me again. I’ve been holed up in my room at the inn ever since Sunday.”

  “Do you really think he would kill you?” Addie stared at the woman. “If he did, then how would he get his money? No, my guess is that he likes to scare and threaten, but murder isn’t his style.”

  “That’s what Brett said Saturday night when he called me to tell me there was a change of plans.”

  “Is that what the two of you were arguing about on the phone around midnight?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “There were a couple of witnesses.”

  “You know, for someone who says she’s not a cop or a reporter, you sure sound like one.”

  “I’m just invested in my community, you might say.” It was all Addie could do to keep a civil tone with this woman.

  “Yeah, that’s what we argued about. My last words to him when he told me the new plan was that he was going to get himself killed . . . and the next day . . . so, you tell me Jared had nothing to do with it, and then I’ll relax, until then—”

  “Did you tell the police any of this? About Jared’s threats or Brett taking the book?”

  “Are you kidding me? And if you do”—she poked her finger into Addie’s chest—“I’ll deny this conversation ever took place and come after you. Do I make myself clear?” She sneered and darted to her car in the parking lot.

  Addie stood on the sidewalk, staring at the sandstone wall of the police station as she mentally checked off one big question mark on her blackboard. “That means Marc doesn’t know Brett was the book thief.” She dashed up the stairs and through the waiting room to the front counter. “Hi, Jerry, I need to talk to Marc. It’s important.”

  Jerry looked at her from under his bushy brows. “Will Detective Brookes do? I guess she’s in charge of the investigation now.”

  Addie thought she had managed to keep her mental cringe just that, but it must have shown on her face because Jerry quickly added, “I’m sorry, I’m only following orders.”

  “I guess if they’re Marc’s orders, you have to oblige.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “Not his, hers. At least, that’s what she has decreed regarding any information you might turn up.” He gave a helpless shrug.

  Addie flinched with his words. So that was how Ryley was going to play it from now on. Was she trying to keep Addie away from Marc or was she hoping Addie might bring her something that would help crack the case and then claim the fact gathering for herself? There was a lot about this detective Addie didn’t like, but she, just like Jerry, was helpless to do anything about it.

  The murmur of Marc’s voice behind his closed office door made Addie miss the days when she could have skirted past the desk and plopped down in one of his chairs and vented her latest theories about a case. She glanced back at Jerry, who was eyeing her anxiously. “No, that’s okay. It’s not that urgent, so I wouldn’t want to bother the detective with it.”

  “I shouldn’t tell you this, but I know you, and I know you’re doing some sleuthing on your own anyway.” Jerry stood up, leaned over the counter, and whispered, “If your news has anything to do with Bill’s statement about hearing that dead guy arguing with someone on the phone, it’s just been confirmed who he was speaking to at the time.”

  “I know what you’re going to say.” Addie put her hand up in a stop motion. “I don’t want you to get into trouble over me. I spoke with Amber outside before I came in.”

  “You did? I didn’t know you knew her.”

  “I don’t, but Paige told me she was Brett’s new girlfriend.” Addie met Jerry’s searching gaze. “When she was in here, did Amber tell you why she and Brett were arguing or say anything about who she suspects killed Brett?”

  “No, she seemed scared, maybe thought we would start looking at her again, but the staff and a guest at the inn verified she was in her room all night. Why? Do you have information about who the killer is?”

  “No, I’m at as much of a loss as you guys seem to be. I have a couple of suspects, but they all seem to have airtight alibis, so”—she shrugged—“I don’t know where to look now. That’s why I spoke to Amber when I saw her. I hoped she could shed some light on a few of my questions.”


  “She told the detective”—he jerked his thumb, motioning behind him—“that they were only having a lovers’ spat. Is that what she said to you?”

  “Basically.” Addie bit her tongue. “Anyway, I saw her coming out and wanted to confirm what Bill said to me was true about overhearing his arguing on the phone.”

  “Speaking of Bill”—Jerry’s voice dropped to a mere murmur—“his statement isn’t adding up anymore.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Why, what happened?”

  “It seems that when he said he heard Brett on the phone arguing with . . . well, as it turns out . . . Amber . . . there were a lot of other people on the beach. We had a unit down there chasing off a few late partiers, and a couple of fire department members were still running their electrical check on the bandstand. Bill told us there was no one else there when he saw Brett, but that isn’t true.”

  Bile churned in Addie’s gut and rose to the back of her throat. She swallowed hard. “Really. Well, you know Bill doesn’t own a watch. Perhaps he was confused about the time.”

  “Except,” said Jerry, “Amber and another witness confirmed that the argument with Amber occurred at midnight.”

  “Maybe he argued with someone else later, and that’s what Bill overheard.”

  “Maybe, but anyway, the chief wants us to find Bill and bring him back in for more questioning.”

  “He does, does he?” Addie gripped the edge of the counter pretending to adjust Pippi in her arms.

  “Yeah, have you seen him around anywhere lately?”

  “Nope, I haven’t seen him recently.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie, she told herself. He had asked if she’d seen Bill lately, and she hadn’t, at least not since Monday when Bill told her there was another man there. Jerry didn’t need to know that now. She needed to find Bill herself. He either killed Brett, or he saw the person later on the beach who did, and it was someone he was terrified of. The beach!

  Why hadn’t she thought of that before? It made perfect sense as to where the original crime scene must be. If so, then it couldn’t have been Bill. He didn’t have a car. How on earth would he have taken the body to Martha’s bakery, and why would he? He loved her. No, Bill held the key to this, and she had to find him before Marc’s officers did and go off and arrest him again. With his obvious fears about captivity and confinement after what Gloria had said about him being a POW, a second arrest would certainly send him into a full mental collapse, and he’d shut down for good.

  “Are you okay, Addie? You went a little pale.”

  “I’m fine, just so much swirling around in my head. It would really help if I could . . .” She looked longingly at Marc’s door. “Are you sure there’s no way I can get in to see him?”

  “I’d like to, but she’d have my head, and I’m up for promotion to lieutenant next month.”

  “Is there a problem here, Sergeant?” Ryley’s icy voice sliced through the air behind Jerry.

  “No, Detective. Everything’s fine.”

  “Addie, is there something I can help you with?” She stepped around an unyielding Jerry and pinned her dark eyes on Addie.

  “Nope, I was only stopping by to see how Marc was after all the excitement of the morning, that’s all.”

  “That’s right, the baby.” Ryley’s guarded facial features relaxed as she folded her arms across her chest. “How is Carolyn doing, by the way?”

  “Mother and daughter are fine.” Addie forced her lips into some semblance of a smile. “I only wanted to tell Marc that Carolyn and Pete gave her the name Addison as her middle name. I thought he might get a kick out of that.”

  Ryley’s jaw muscle twitched. “I’ll be sure to pass it on to him.”

  “You do that.” Addie’s cool gaze left the detective’s equally cold one, and she glanced at Jerry, nodding her appreciation. She shifted Pippi into the crook of her arm and dashed out the door and down the steps.

  When they reached the sidewalk, her phone pinged a text message. She clipped the leash on Pippi before setting her down and tugged her phone out of her pocket.

  I hope you’re at the police station??? Gloria said to tell Marc to look around the small rock cavern by the lighthouse. She’s seen him hanging around in that area when she takes Pippi down there for walks on nice days.

  BTW, I’m discharging her today. Martha is picking her up soon. I told her you’d bring Pippi back tonight I can go with you, if you like? I’ll call you later. xxxxxx

  Addie’s eyes burned with tears. She jammed her phone back in her pocket. “One last walk back to the shop through the park, and then we’ll go on a little adventure down by the beach before you go home to Mommy. How does that sound?”

  Pippi yipped and excitedly pulled on her lead.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Addie pulled into a parking space by the old lighthouse and glanced over at the basket beside her on the seat. Her chest constricted at the sight of the two dark-brown eyes peering back at her over the top. The tears she’d been fighting slipped from her eyes and rolled down her face. She withdrew her furry friend from the snuggly cocoon and cuddled Pippi into her heaving chest.

  “How on earth did I allow myself to get so attached to you in such a short time? Heck, I haven’t even been able to tell Simon how I feel about him.” She scratched behind the little dog’s ear as Pippi’s tongue lapped at Addie’s tear-covered cheeks. “But somehow, a dog of all things managed to break through the shield around my battered heart in only a few short days.” Addie buried her face into the soft fur of Pippi’s neck and sobbed until she shed all her tears.

  “Well, it is what it is, and time I pull up my big girl pants.” She stepped out of the car and set her friend onto the graveled parking lot. “You have a mommy, and she loves you, too. So, let’s make our last adventure a good one, what do you say?” She glanced down at the wriggling ball of fur by her feet. “How are you at tracking?” She giggled as Pippi lunged ahead on her lead and headed across the parking lot in the direction of the bandstand.

  As they trudged across the open space, the icy fingers of an arctic wind gust reached under Addie’s collar and sent shivers to her core. She cursed the fact she hadn’t thought to wear her parka today instead of her dressy wool coat. Even though the sun was shining, the coastal winds still held on to the last remnants of the blustery winter they’d endured. For a moment as they passed alongside the stage and the rear covered shell of the bandstand, there was a reprieve from the Atlantic winter winds. However, coming out of the backside of the event area toward what, in less snowy months, would be the edge of the grass above the pebbled beach to the shore, she found the winds whipped up again. She clasped her cloth jacket tighter around her neck, glad she had remembered Pippi’s little coat.

  Up until this point, the walking was easy. There had been so much foot traffic on the beach over the weekend that most of the deep snow had been tamped down or worn away. Unfortunately, as they headed to the base of the lighthouse on the cliff above, it became near impossible not to slide and stumble over the increasingly large snow-and algae-covered rocks. It also didn’t help that Pippi, whose footing was as equally unsure, darted every which way in her effort to find the best foothold. Addie finally relented and unclipped the leash, allowing her little friend to scamper over the rocks at her leisure.

  Having to keep her mouth buried in her jacket collar to stop the winds from stealing at her breath made the trudge over and around the boulders more difficult. It was a good thing she knew exactly where the outcrop cavern was. This past summer, she and Simon had caught some rays, lying on the rocks following a morning of clam digging. Head down, she continued stumbling along until she heard Pippi yapping and whining over the breaking waves and the wind.

  She edged closer to Pippi, who sat back on her haunches, wailing. The woeful sounds sent shivers through Addie. She tiptoed up beside her. “What is it, little one? Did a big old crab shell scare you?”

  Addie glanced at a boulder in fr
ont of where Pippi sat. Her gaze narrowed as she tried to understand what she was looking at. There were dark-red crystals splattered over the rocks. She crouched down, swiped her finger over the area nearest to her, and checked the residue on her finger. The crystals melted from her body heat. It was blood. She scanned the patches of snow between the rocks. It was there, too.

  Her gaze skimmed the water’s edge, across the slippery, algae-covered, rocky beach, and rested on the relatively dry boulders where she stood. She was above the high-tide mark and protected from the daily surge and ebb of the waves. The exposed blood on the rocks had also only frozen and not turned black with the sun’s rays. It hadn’t been here that long. She checked her bearings. She was still a good fifty feet from where Bill’s camp might be. Glancing back at the blood-splattered rocks, she tugged her phone out of her pocket with shaking hands. No signal! She jammed it back in, clipped Pippi onto her leash, and stumbled back toward the bandstand area and hopefully cell reception.

  Addie pressed her back against the sun-warmed wall of the back shell of the stage area, thankful to be out of the wind, and tapped out a message to Simon.

  I’m at the beach by the bandstand, found blood on the rocks. I don’t know if it’s Brett or Old Bill’s but he’s missing and I’m afraid the killer might be after him and that it’s his blood. Call Marc, tell him to come, too, and bring evidence bags.

  Addie drew in a series of deep breaths. Her head was whirling between the physical exertions of boulder jumping on the way back up the beach and the unnerving discovery. Her mind raced with possibilities, and she slid down the wall, plopping to the ground. As if Pippi could sense something was off, she crawled into Addie’s lap and nuzzled her wet nose under Addie’s hand, forcing a comforting scratch. Addie wasn’t certain if it was for her benefit or the dog’s, but either way, the fine, warm fur under her fingers was consoling.

  She leaned her head back against the rough-planked siding of the band shell, closed her eyes, and basked in the warmth of the sun beating down on her wind-burned cheeks. A thwack of cold splattered onto her forehead and trickled across her brow. She opened her eyes and gazed upward. A smile formed on her lips.