Proof of Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  * * *

  Addie pulled into her parking space behind her shop and pounded on the back door of SerenaTEA. “Serena, it’s me, Addie.”

  The door flung open. Serena grabbed her wrist, pulled her inside, and shut the door.

  The spicy, seductive aroma of Chai tea embraced Addie, calming her. “Hi.”

  “Hi? Is that all you have to say? I’ve been worried sick. What’s going on?”

  Addie glanced at the desk in Serena’s office. “Is that a fresh pot of Chai tea?”

  “Tea? You want tea now? I want some answers. I thought you’d been murdered by a ghost.”

  Addie flopped down into a chair. “No, as you can see, I haven’t been. But . . .”

  “But what?” Serena glanced over her shoulder into the tearoom, closed the door leading into it, and studied her friend. “But what, Addie? You’re scaring me. I heard rumors that a body was discovered there and when I didn’t hear back from you—”

  “Marc and his new girlfriend,” Addie said, choking on the word, “think I am a murderer or, at the least, a book thief.”

  Serena’s face paled. “That’s ridiculous. You a thief and a murderer?” She leaned her narrow hip against the edge of the desk. “Wait. Marc’s new what?”

  “Girlfriend. Didn’t you know?”

  “He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Well, he and Agent Brookes looked pretty cozy to me today.”

  “Agent Ryley Brookes?”

  Addie nodded.

  “Is a woman?”

  “Yup, and a very attractive one, too.”

  Serena plopped her butt on the desk.

  “You didn’t know about her?”

  “I didn’t even know he was back in town until this morning when Mom and Dad called me from Cape Cod. They wanted to know if Marc’s friend, Ryley Brookes from the FBI, got settled in their guest room okay the other day.”

  “The other day? And you didn’t even know he was back in town until this morning?”

  Serena shook her head.

  “I wonder why she’s staying at your parents’ house and not at his.” Maybe she’d been way off, assuming they were a couple and were, in fact, just good friends.

  “You know how everyone in this town talks. Wouldn’t the chief of police having a woman move into his house make a quick round of the coffee-shop gossip circle?”

  “Yeah, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Remember last month when your neighbor, Mrs. Thornburg, stopped me when I was on my walk and asked me if you were sick?” Addie chuckled, knowing where this was going. “And when I told her you were just fine, she asked me why the doctor was making so many house calls, then. That one took off like wildfire, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, she notices every time Simon comes over, but last year when my house was being broken into she didn’t see a thing.”

  “I guess a real crime isn’t coffee-shop worthy,” Serena said, absently swinging her legs back and forth, the heels of her Skechers softly thudding against the side of the desk.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking about Marc being back in town for a couple of days and not calling me. It kind of hurts. We used to be so close.”

  Despite her own issues this morning, Addie ached for her best friend. Nothing she could say would take away the betrayal Serena felt right now by her one and only brother, a brother she idolized.

  A knock on the tearoom door jerked both of them from their thoughts.

  Serena hopped from the desktop, wiped a tear from her cheek, and opened the door a crack. “What is it?”

  Her part-time shop assistant, Elli Hollingsworth leaned into the slight opening of the door. “Marc and another detective are here,” she whispered. “They want to speak to you.”

  “Tell him I’ll be out in a minute. I have to put the cash back in the safe.” Serena closed the door and turned the deadbolt.

  Addie leapt to her feet. “Don’t tell him I’m here.”

  “I won’t. That’s why I said I was counting cash. I knew he wouldn’t come in if he thought there was cash all over the desk. He wouldn’t risk a customer seeing it.”

  “Thank you.” Addie rested her hand over her chest to still her heaving heart.

  “But you’d better give a condensed version of what happened this morning in case he asks me anything I should know about.”

  “Maybe he just wants to introduce you to her.”

  “The time to have done that sailed two days ago when he got back in town after being gone for three months,” Serena hissed.

  Addie hated seeing her friend like this, and it made her pretty darn close to hating Marc and the FBI hussy he dragged around with him. Addie refocused and poured out a condensed version of the morning’s events.

  By the time Addie was done with her tale, Serena stood taller, and with shoulders back she stepped out into her teashop, leaving the door open just a slight crack.

  Addie took the cracked door as an invitation. She peered through the small opening. Even though she couldn’t see much, there was no mistaking Marc’s voice as he greeted his sister.

  Serena gave a frosty “Yeah, it’s good to see you, too.”

  Addie turned her ear to the voices. Eavesdropping wasn’t beyond her. After all, in the past it had been a good source of vital information about a murder case she was looking into—unofficially, of course.

  “Serena, I’d like to introduce my friend, Ryley Brookes.” Marc’s words were met with Serena’s silence.

  “I’m so happy to meet you at last,” Ryley’s voice chimed in. There was something in her voice Addie hadn’t detected earlier. It had a soft Southern California intonation. “Marc talks about you all the time. Just yesterday he told—”

  “Elli said you wanted to talk to me. I’m here now, so talk, Marc.” Serena’s voice wielded an edge.

  “Serena.”

  “Sorry, but I’m pretty miffed with you.”

  “What have I done?”

  “According to Mom and Dad, you got back to town two days ago, and you didn’t even call. I had to hear you were back from Mom when she called to ask me if your friend here got settled okay.”

  “That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Ryley’s silvery voice faltered. “I suggested we take a couple of days to reaccli-matize being back in the States after our holiday in Italy before . . . before he went back to work.”

  “You went to Italy with Marc?”

  It appeared Addie’s first instinct was right after all.

  Serena gasped. “You’re more than friends, then? That’s interesting, Marc, when only a few months ago you proposed to Addie.”

  Addie clamped her hand over her mouth to keep a snort from escaping. Judging by the silence in the room, Serena’s words had hit like a bombshell. What she wouldn’t have given to see the looks on everyone’s faces at that moment.

  “Enough.” Marc’s voice sliced open the silence. “You and I will talk later. Right now, we’re here on police business.”

  “What police business could you possibly have with me?”

  “Just a few questions.” Brookes’s interrogator’s voice replaced the laid-back girl from Southern California tone. “You are friends with a Miss Addison Greyborne, is that correct?”

  “She’s my best friend,” Serena snapped. “Really, Marc, you know the answer to that so is all this necessary?”

  “Just answer her questions, honestly, please, for me?”

  Serena groaned.

  “And it’s also true that you live on the same property as Miss Greyborne?”

  “Yes.” Serena replied curtly, clearly. She was frustrated by Ryley’s inane line of questioning, but it didn’t stop there.

  “And you own and operate this teashop?”

  “Yes, I plead guilty to all that.” Her tone cut the air like a knife. “What’s it got to do with anything?”

  “You also blend your own teas that do not come prepackaged from a distributor for customers.
”

  “Yes, sometimes.” Addie could imagine her friend’s red blotches rising to meet the grinding tone of her voice. “I use a variety of tea leaves and herbs to make unique blends that I think my customers will enjoy or ones they request.”

  “Has Miss Greyborne ever requested you make her a special blend?”

  “What are you getting at, Agent?”

  “Just answer her question, Serena.” Marc’s voice held an edge of tension.

  “I’m simply asking you if she ever instructed you to make a blend of sleeping tea . . . or something perhaps a bit more potent.”

  “What are you suggesting? That my friend would ever . . . ? I can’t believe what you’re implying. Marc, really, you’re going to let her get away with this? Do you really think that Addie or I could . . . could ever . . . ? I’m speechless.”

  “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a warrant to search your shop for any illegal herbs or lethal substances.”

  Addie struggled to breathe.

  “Really?” Serena’s voice rose to an ear-penetrating pitch. “You think—”

  “Calm down, sis. It’s just a matter of covering all the bases. Simon said he would need samples of any suspected herbal products to test against the blood and tissue specimens to determine an exact cause of death.”

  All Addie could hear was jagged breathing. From Marc or Serena, she couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. Her own lungs were struggling to gather even the smallest molecules of oxygen.

  “It’s part of conducting a thorough investigation, Serena. No guilt is being implied at this point.”

  “Maybe that’s the way you as an FBI agent see it,” Serena snapped, “but in Greyborne Harbor—”

  “Come on, Serena, let’s get this over with, and then we can all get back to our daily routine,” Marc said, his tone strangled. Clearly, he was losing patience with his sister. “Now, if you can open the bins back here behind the counter for Agent Brookes, she’ll take a small sampling of each of them.”

  “By the way,” Agent Brookes’s smug tone echoed through the shop, “the warrant covers the entire shop. We’ll need access to the back room as well as your place of residence.”

  “That’s just my office. I don’t keep tea stored in here.”

  “We still have to search it. Now if you can step aside, please.”

  Fight or flight? Part of Addie wanted to stay and fight. Drive a fist through Cali-girl’s face. But she wanted to protect Serena, not make things worse. Her eyes focused on the dark shape of Serena’s rigid back protecting her, she slipped out into the alley, thankful she had at least one friend in a newfound sea of enemies.

  Chapter 10

  Addie rested her elbows on the top of the desk in the storage room of her shop and massaged the bridge of her nose. A migraine squeezed her skull. The day had not gone as planned. Becoming the number-one suspect on a theft and/or murder list wasn’t exactly what she’d envisioned.

  Neither was learning that Marc had become a stranger. She’d been so eager for him to return in the hope that they could salvage a friendship after what took place in February, but from his actions and words today that seemed impossible. She could forgive many things, but him even considering her a thief or murderer—or both—snapped the frayed lines connecting her heart to his. She plucked a tissue out of the box on her desk and blew her nose.

  “Oh, Addie, you are back here.”

  Addie jumped. “You scared the heck out of me, Paige.”

  “You did look a little lost in your own world.”

  “Yeah, I was.”

  “It’s only that I thought I heard you come in, but when you didn’t come up front, I thought I’d better make sure the wind hadn’t caught the door or something.”

  “Yeah, sorry, I’ve been . . . I don’t know what I’ve been doing, to be honest.” She rubbed her temples. “It’s been a long day. Unless you need me for something, I think I’ll just sit back here for a few more minutes.”

  “No, it’s quiet right now.” Paige leaned through the doorway and whispered, “But, what do you want me to tell Catherine?”

  “Addie?” Catherine swept past Paige. “I thought I heard your voice.”

  With a tic of Addie’s head Paige disappeared back into the shop.

  “Catherine, pull up a seat.” Addie patted a wooden book crate beside her desk. “What brings you in?”

  “I know when something is upsetting you.” Catherine dropped onto the box beside Addie. “Remember, I’ve known you since you were a toddler.” Catherine tucked a wayward strand of Addie’s hair behind her ear, her warm hand lingering on Addie’s cheek. “I wanted you to know I’m here for you. You need someone to talk to, and it can’t wait until Simon’s free.”

  Addie’s bottom lip quivered.

  Catherine clasped Addie’s hand in hers. The tender expression that filled Catherine’s brown eyes tugged at Addie’s chest, and the tears she’d dammed behind anger and disbelief broke free. Catherine snatched a tissue from the box, pressed it into Addie’s hand, and then listened until Addie sat back, exhausted, her tenth tissue pressed to her nose.

  “I can see why you looked shattered today. But I also know that Marc, deep in his heart, knows you had nothing to do with either crime.”

  “How can you be so sure? He certainly didn’t put up any argument when what’s-her-name stood there suggesting that if she was in charge of the investigation, I would be her number-one suspect.”

  “Perhaps, but he didn’t charge you with anything.”

  “Not yet, but they were at Serena’s, gathering tea samples because this woman is convinced it will prove that I did have something to do with all this.”

  A soft smile played at the corners of Catherine’s mouth. “How many times did Marc go along with you as you tried to prove your theories to him?”

  “That was different.”

  “Was it?” Catherine arched a brow.

  “Of course,” Addie sputtered. “We were . . . Oh. I see what you’re getting at.” A knowing smile touched Catherine’s lips as Addie grasped what she’d meant. “But it was different with me because he generally knew in his gut that I was right, but he needed the evidence to do anything about it, and following up on my theories usually gave him exactly what he needed for proof. You can’t think he feels in his gut that she’s correct and is looking to prove that her theory is right?”

  “Or maybe he’s waiting for her to prove herself wrong because he knows you would, could, never do what she accused you of, and once her evidence doesn’t pan out, he knows that will be the end of it.”

  “I never thought of it that way.” Addie drummed her fingers on her knees. “But why would he go to all that trouble to prove my innocence if he already knows I am?”

  “Because Marc is obviously falling for Ryley and doesn’t want you to become a wedge between them. So by going along with this, he’s not jeopardizing what they have by taking his ex-girlfriend’s side over hers.”

  “Do you think he . . . he loves her?”

  “It sounds like it’s a possibility. Why? Would it bother you if he did find someone else and fell in love?”

  Addie couldn’t answer around the tightening in her throat.

  “Would it? Be honest.”

  “I didn’t think it would at the time, but seeing him today with another woman did make me ask myself if I’d made a mistake when I let him slip away. On the other hand, is what I felt today only a matter of me wanting what I can’t have anymore?”

  “Have you figured out which one it is yet?”

  “I don’t know,” Addie said, twirling a pen on her desk. “After Christmas, when we started to spend more time together, I thought I really cared for Marc. He was like going home. He was comfortable, everything I knew and missed. He was like a memory of my past, and it felt right and safe.”

  “That’s to be expected. You’d had a couple of rough years and suffered a lot of losses. We were all thrill
ed to see you finally moving forward again . . . but . . .” Catherine caught her lip between her teeth and then fell silent.

  “But what?”

  “Nothing, go on.”

  “Okay.” Addie shifted, eyeing Catherine’s masked face, but it was no use. She had withdrawn and wasn’t going to finish her thought. “Yes, I was moving forward, and it felt freeing, but that was part of my problem. Was I really moving forward? Sure, I’d finally accepted David’s death and part of that could have been because Marc made it easy for me to fall for him—which is probably why I did so quickly. He made me feel the way David used to: safe. Naturally, I gravitated toward that. Then I started to question if the reason I was attracted to Marc in the first place was because I had simply replaced David with him. They were so much the same.”

  Addie stroked her neck, watching Catherine’s face for a reaction, but she showed nothing telling. “Well, except David was never as rude or nasty to me like Marc can be sometimes.” Her gaze dropped. “Like ever since he’s gotten back to town.”

  Addie looked up and didn’t miss the darkening in Catherine’s eyes that those words brought, but still she remained silent, listening. “So when Marc pulled the ring out of his pocket and got down on one knee and said he loved me, I panicked. It felt too much like I was going backward.” Addie glanced at her ring-free left hand. “Then I thought about Simon, who was only a friend at the time, but he was so different. When I was with him, he seemed to bring out the best in me and didn’t try to change me into who he wanted me to be. I wasn’t ready to give that up. I needed to see where that went. If I said yes to Marc, it wouldn’t have been fair to him or me or Simon. So I pulled away.”

  Catherine leaned closer, her voice nearly a whisper. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Yes, please. That’s what I need right now.”

  Catherine drew in a deep breath through her nose, straightened her shoulders, and clasped Addie’s hand in hers. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not making excuses for his . . . sometimes abrupt behavior, but just so you know from someone who has known him his whole life, Marc has a hard time with expressing emotions like other people do. It’s partly because of his job and training and partly because of his past with Lacey. Right or wrong, he’s developed the ability to put his feelings in boxes and compartmentalize them.” Her fingers tightened around Addie’s. “I never thought he was the right man for you. As a friend, yes, you’re great together, but as soon as emotions get mixed into it . . . Well, you’re too different, and you really don’t bring out the best in each other when you’re a couple.” Her shoulders heaved, and she slid back on the crate. “There, I said it. Something I’ve wanted to say to you for a long time.”