Proof of Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  “No, neither do I. It’s just the animosity between those two really got to me, especially after having just dealt with Marc and Ryley.”

  Serena pushed down the top of Addie’s menu. “What? Where did this happen? Are they tailing us now?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Addie lifted her menu back up. “Marc was checking out the lead I gave them about Kalea staying here, and we happened to run into each other, that’s all.”

  Serena pressed Addie’s menu back down and locked eyes with her. “Are you sure that’s all?”

  “Actually . . .”

  “I knew it. What happened? What did Miss Special Agent say to put you in this world’s-gone-crazy mood?”

  “That’s just it. She didn’t say much to me, other than openly displaying her displeasure with Marc and I speaking to each other. It’s the whispered conversation that I managed to overhear most of as I tailed them out the door.” Addie leaned over the table and told her what she’d heard.

  “And that’s it? You have no idea what followed ‘mandatory’?”

  “It could mean a lot of different things. Like mandatory leave, mandatory—”

  “Assignment.” Serena sat back. “But you’re right. It’s a weird thing for him to say.”

  “I know, and it makes my conspiracy-theory mind run wild with all the options.”

  Serena snapped her menu. “The world hasn’t gone crazy tonight—you have.” She held it up, covering her face to hide a giggle she couldn’t suppress.

  Addie pulled Serena’s menu down and made a googly-eyed face at her, then pushed it back up to the sound of a hearty laugh from behind her friend’s shield.

  “Let’s order. I still need that drink and I’m starving,” Addie laid her menu on the table as she searched for Zach.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for their drinks and entrées to arrive and feeling much better than she had earlier, Addie pushed her plate away and moaned. “Now I need to sleep. Hopefully, when I wake up this nightmare will all be over.”

  “When you ran into Marc, did he say anything about where the case against you is at?”

  “No.” Addie wiped her mouth and dropped her napkin on the table. “The days of him telling me anything in relation to a case are long gone, I’m afraid.”

  “You mean all those times he protested about sharing details of a case with you, but then did it anyway?”

  “You know as well as I do he only kept me in the loop when it was clear that if he didn’t, I was going to investigate on my own. So by sharing some of the information with me, he thought I’d keep my nose out of police business.”

  “Yeah, right.” Serena wiggled her eyebrows. “But he still knows you. And in spite of how your relationship has changed, he also knows full well that you’re going to do some sleuthing on your own now, too. So that hasn’t changed, has it?”

  “No,” Addie said, chuckling, “that hasn’t changed, especially when Ryley is trying to make me appear to be the number-one suspect of the day. I just have to figure out who else to add to that list.”

  “Do you have any names in mind?”

  “A few, but I’d have to really take a look at them and see if it adds up. I mean, Simon says that everything indicates that Charlotte’s death was the result of natural causes, which has everyone—well, except Ryley and her ridiculous theory about me—believing her sudden death and the missing books aren’t related, that it’s a coincidence but—”

  “You’re not convinced?”

  “No, I’m not. One thing my father always used to say about a criminal investigation was, ‘There is no such thing as coincidences. Everything is related, somehow. You just have to find the missing piece of the puzzle to make the whole picture come into focus.’”

  “Does that mean,” Serena said as she finished off her wine, “that we’re going back to your shop to pull out that blackboard of yours?”

  “Not tonight.” Addie rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m exhausted. Let’s just go home and call it a day.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Serena waved Zach over for the bill.

  When he placed it on the table, Addie scooped it up. “I’ll get this tonight.”

  “If that’s the case, then I’ll leave the tip.” Serena gave Zach a saucy wink, crumpled up a bill, and closed his fingers around it.

  He glanced at the bill and let out a husky laugh. “Are you trying to buy me, Miss?”

  Serena batted her lashes. “Not in the least. I’m just wondering if you could . . .”

  “I could what?” Zach leaned forward, hanging on her every word.

  “Stop and pick up some milk before you come home.”

  Zach playfully swatted Serena’s behind with a napkin from the table as she darted out of the line of fire.

  All the way out the door, Addie stifled her laughter, not wanting to create a scene. She loved watching her friend’s playful antics. It reminded her of the silly banter she and Simon often exchanged. She had made the right choice for her, and she couldn’t wait to get home to call him. At least hearing his voice today would help lift some of the weight off her day.

  * * *

  When Addie turned down her driveway, she squealed at the sight of the silver Tesla parked by her front door.

  “It looks like you’re going to get that hug you needed so badly today after all.” Serena nudged Addie with her elbow.

  Addie beamed as she parked the car, waved good night to Serena and dashed up the front steps to her porch. She flung the door open and stepped into waiting arms that swept her off her feet. Simon planted a tender kiss on her lips and rested his forehead against hers. “Welcome home.”

  She snuggled her head into his arm as he walked her down the hallway to the kitchen. If she were a cat, she would have purred. This is exactly where she had wanted to be all evening. When he waved his hand over the chocolate fondue he’d arranged on the island for them, she couldn’t suppress the tiny squeal that snuck out. “I thought you might need some comfort food after your day.” His eyes glistened as he popped a chocolate-dipped strawberry into her mouth. “So please don’t tell me you’ve already had dessert.”

  “No, I saved the best for last.” She kissed his cheek and nestled her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I knew there was a reason I gave you that key last year and said come over whenever you want to use my gourmet kitchen.”

  “If I didn’t use it, you’d have to knock the cobwebs out of the kettle just to boil water.”

  “Hey, I cook, too.”

  “When?”

  She paused.

  “See? You can’t even remember the last time you actually used this kitchen, can you?”

  She grinned her concession. How on earth, after all she had been through these last couple of years, had she managed to get so lucky in finding Simon?

  She remembered her feeling of despair when Marc abruptly left town and Serena, her go-to person, had her free time consumed by Zach. It was only natural that she and Simon gravitated toward each other. In the past, he’d been a good friend to her, and they had a lot of fun together. Being with him these last few months made her realize that Simon was the whole package. She eyed the feast of cut fruit and decadent melted chocolate, her mouth watering—for more than just the lake of chocolate. It was little things like this that he managed to pull off every day that reminded her how different he was from anyone else she dated previously. He didn’t just make her feel safe, he nurtured her, and made her feel more loved than she could ever have thought possible.

  “I don’t know where to begin.” Her gaze landed on Simon’s lips.

  “Here.” He handed her a small fondue fork and plate. “Just dig in.”

  Addie stabbed her fork into a juicy chunk of pineapple.

  A bang on the door caused them both to jump.

  “I’ll get it.” Simon patted his chest as if he were having heart palpitations. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is, so we can gorge ourselves in peace o
n doctor-prescribed melted chocolate.”

  She could hear him chuckling all the way to the front door. She dipped the pineapple chunk into the chocolate and popped it into her mouth, soon followed by a piece of strawberry and then a large section of orange. By the time Simon returned, her mouth was stuffed, and warm chocolate oozed from the corner of her lips. But when she looked at him, she swallowed hard. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She glanced over his shoulder, her chest tightening. “Marc? Jerry?” The two somber-faced officers entered the kitchen. “What brings you by?” Addie’s voice cracked. “Would you like some fondue?”

  “They’re not here on a social visit.” Simon’s voice was barely audible.

  She searched each of the men’s faces. Her heart tumbled to her toes.

  Marc stepped forward. “Miss Greyborne, I need to inform you that I have a warrant for your arrest for suspicion of committing grand larceny.”

  A cold hand squeezed Addie’s chest, and she couldn’t get enough air to speak. She saw more than heard his monotone voice droning on, fulfilling the requirements of his duties.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney . . .” The remainder of Marc’s words were lost in a blur as Jerry walked toward her, asked her to turn around, and snapped the cold steel handcuffs around her wrists.

  Chapter 14

  Addie shivered and clutched the rough wool blanket tighter around her shoulders and wiggled her frozen toes. Sandals were great summer footwear unless sitting in a police station’s basement interrogation room. She silently cursed the architect or engineer who had designed this small space with an air-conditioning vent that blasted cold air directly down from the ceiling. The desk sergeant, Carolyn, Simon’s sister and her friend, thankfully had provided Addie with this blanket or the rest of her would have been as numb as her toes were right now.

  She cupped her icy hands together and blew into them, then stopped. She imagined she already looked a frightful sight, and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to show up in front of a judge with black smudges across her face.

  After taking her fingerprints, Carolyn had offered her some wet wipes. Unfortunately, the booking process was run like a well-oiled machine, and Addie was asked to stand and have her mug shot taken almost immediately, giving her no time to remove the ink stains. As she examined her fingertips now, she wondered if the taint of the night would ever wash off her.

  She puffed out a deep breath and studied her prison walls—at least that’s how it felt. It was nearly an hour since she’d been taken from a holding cell, led in here, and told to take a seat at the small table, with the promise that someone would be with her shortly. Yeah, right. She glared at the large mirror on the opposite wall. Addie had seen her fair share of police dramas and was aware that mirror wasn’t there for aesthetic purposes. Someone was on the other side watching her every move, and if she was a betting woman, she would have placed her money on it being none other than Special Agent Ryley Brookes.

  Addie stared unblinkingly at the mirror, a slight curl winking at the corner of her upper lip. As if on cue, the door flew open and Agent Brookes, carrying a black briefcase, and Marc, with some papers tucked under his arm, entered. Neither of them said a word as they took their seats in the two chairs across from Addie. Marc set a beige file folder on the table. Without looking up at her, Marc asked if she was certain she didn’t want her lawyer present.

  Addie shifted on her hard wooden chair and shook her head.

  “I’m sorry,” Brookes said, “you’ll have to verbally answer the question.”

  “Yes,” Addie sighed, “I waive the right to have a lawyer present at this time.” She leaned her elbow on the table and glared at Marc. “You know as well as I do that I have done nothing wrong, and this whole thing is ridiculous.”

  Marc cocked his eyebrow. He didn’t speak. He just stared at her. This was a bad sign.

  “Can you account for your whereabouts on Wednesday evening?” Brookes asked, the line of her mouth set firm.

  “I was at home.”

  “Can anyone verify that?”

  Addie’s lips twitched. She had seen this part too often in the movies. The suspect lives alone. No one can corroborate the fact that she was home as sworn, and that’s it. No alibi for the time in question. Addie’s heart knocked against her ribs as panic skittered up her spine. Then she remembered. “Serena. Yes, Serena came over Wednesday evening.”

  Stifling silence filled the room as Agent Brookes jotted something down on the notepad in front of her, her brow creased. “What time did she arrive, and what time did she leave your place of residence?”

  Addie struggled to remember. Keeping track of these kinds of trivial details wasn’t something she ever thought she’d have to recall to prove she was innocent in a crime. Who did anyway besides maybe someone who was planning to commit a crime? Certainly not the average citizen. Addie drummed her fingers on the table as she replayed that evening over in her mind. She recalled that she hadn’t been home long, so Serena must have made her entrance around . . .

  “Six thirty,” Addie blurted out, “and then she was there for roughly an hour, so she left about seven thirty.”

  “And after that?” Agent Brookes tapped her pen on her notepad.

  Addie shook her head.

  “Simon wasn’t there?” Marc’s voice sounded strangled. Its accusatory edge seemed to be at odds with his professional-cop demeanor. It had echoes of the jealousy present last year when he and Simon had both vied for her affection. Normally, she would have tried to smooth his ruffled feathers, but as she and Marc were strangers now, not even friends, she would let him suffer.

  Agent Brookes’s jaw clenched as she wrote something on the paper.

  “No.” Addie’s lip quivered. “He was working.”

  An uneasy silence spilled back over the room.

  “He did call later to say good night, though.” Addie made a point of watching Marc’s reaction to that. His cop face cracked, but only a tiny sliver of the man she used to know peeked through.

  “On your cell phone or landline?” Ryley cocked her brow without looking up from her notes, her non-actions clearly indicating that she chose to ignore the rising tension between Addie and Marc.

  “I have a cell phone only.” Addie’s voice wavered.

  “So, in reality,” Agent Brookes said, leaning toward her, “you could have been anywhere when that call came through, right?”

  “I suppose. Yes, but I wasn’t. I was at home.” Addie racked her brain. There must be some way she could prove she was at home and not lurking around an old house that had given her the creeps. “I was doing some research on my laptop.” She gave a shaky smile. “You can check it for IP addresses, my search history, and the times I logged in and out. That should prove I was at home, too!”

  “Unfortunately for you, Miss Greyborne”—Ryley’s eyes flashed and narrowed to tiny slits—“laptops, like cell phones, are portable, and it could have been accessed from anywhere.”

  “What are you thinking? That I sat out on the road in the middle of the night in front of one of the creepiest houses in town and researched the value of two books that aren’t even missing from the library? But then I broke in so I could steal a set of other books?” Addie swallowed, but it was no use. Her mouth had gone too dry to dislodge the lump lodged in her throat.

  Marc flipped open the file folder in front of him. Without a word, he pulled out a photo the investigation team had taken of the window latch in the library. Then slapped a photo of a fingerprint on top of it. This was repeated with a series of other pictures taken in the library of the center table, the desk, and the fireplace hearth. Each one had a corresponding photo of fingerprints. The last picture he tossed down on the pile showed notched markings around the exterior of the bottom window sash.

  Ryley reached down beside her chair and retrieved a small plastic evidence b
ag from her black case and pushed it across the table. “Does this look familiar?”

  Addie swallowed and then swallowed again. Nothing seemed to be able to dislodge the lump. “That looks like the tip of an acrylic fingernail.”

  “You’d be right.” Agent Brookes studied Addie’s hands. “I’d say it might just be a perfect match to the one that’s missing from there.” She tapped the tip of her pen on the desk in front of Addie’s index finger.

  “I know how this appears, but there’s an explanation, for all of this,” Addie said, waving her hand over the pictures. “First, my nail broke when Kalea and I were moving boxes of books. I thought it had dropped into one of them and wasn’t about to go digging around for it. And all these fingerprints? Yes, I was in the room and did try to open the window. I have pictures of Kalea and I fooling around, trying to get it open when the stuffiness in the room started to make us both dizzy.”

  “Where are the pictures?”

  “On my phone.”

  “Your phone wasn’t in your possession when you were brought in, and it’s not at your house.”

  “Wait.” Addie glared at Ryley and Marc. “You searched my house, too?”

  He nodded. “Standard procedure when an arrest warrant is issued. A search warrant is, too.”

  “We have your computer, and we’ll check out your search history, but where’s your phone, Addie?” Ryley pinned her with a glare. “Is there a reason you don’t want us to find it? Are you hiding something on there?”

  “It’s . . .”

  Marc leaned forward. “Why are you hesitating in answering the question?”

  “I’m not,” Addie snapped. “I’m trying to think where it could be, and . . .” She couldn’t help but notice the sideways glance between Marc and Ryley. “Wait, I remember! Serena had to borrow it last night before dinner because hers was dead. She must still have it. But I can tell you, I did not, nor did Kalea, ever get that window opened.”