Proof of Murder

by Lauren Elliott

  “Thank you.” She planted a chocolate kiss on his lips.

  “What was that for? Not that I mind.”

  “For indulging me.”

  “I have no choice, it seems,” he said, his fingers playing up her arm. “After all, I’m a doctor, and I swore an oath. I’m bound to keep you from strangling yourself on that thread you’re trying to untangle.”

  Chapter 27

  Simon pulled over to the side of the street to let Addie hop out while he found a parking spot up around the corner. Addie was surprised to see the number of cars here for the yard sale given the amount of people she’d just seen at the pier.

  “I’ll catch up with you around back,” Simon called through the open passenger-side window as he pulled away.

  Addie stepped up onto the curb and made her way to the front wrought-iron gate. No matter how many times she’d been here over the past few days, the feeling she’d had on her first visit was forever engraved in her mind. Suck it up, buttercup. This was your idea. Chin high, she ambled up the footpath to the front door. She knew Simon would look for her around the back of the house at the sale tables, but there was one stop she wanted to make before she went out there.

  Addie opened the weathered mahogany door and stepped into the massive foyer. The house wrapped her in an eerie silence so deep Addie could hear the whoosh of her blood rushing through her ears. She wished now she had joined the throng outside, in the sunshine, where noise existed. Where is everyone? Blake’s staff was generally running around like crazed ants.

  The living room had been completely cleared of tables and auction items. The study across the hall echoed in emptiness as well. It appeared that Blake had wasted no time in emptying the house as per the order from Art and Maggie. Voices resonated down the stairwell. She stopped short at the bottom of the steps and tilted her head to catch what they were saying, but it was no use. She could only make out a hum of muted murmurs. A second voice chimed in, matching the first one’s tone and intensity with one difference. Addie detected an Irish lilt to this voice. It was none other than Philip Atkinson, but who was he speaking to upstairs?

  Addie hustled up the stairway. With each step she ascended, the mystery voice grew louder. By the time she reached the top the voices had trailed off and echoed as though they were coming from a tunnel or stairway. They were headed to the third floor. Addie hesitated at the top, but she knew she had one chance of discovering who Philip was arguing with. She scurried down the hall following what little of the murmurs she could make out and stopped when she came to the third-floor stairway. One, two, three. Now. She crept upward until the voices became clear again. The mystery man was Blake. From what she could make out, the two men were arguing about money. Addie peered over the rise of the top step, keeping low in a spread-eagle position over the steps.

  The attic was huge, but unlike hers, which had a number of smaller rooms off to the sides and the one larger one across the back, this was an open space and the back wall was exactly that. There were no windows, and if not for the meager amount of light coming in from the two small windows on the front of the house and one on either side of the room, it would be a dark and dank space. After her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see Blake and Philip, a cardboard box between their feet.

  “I told you he was a cheat. Him and his sister.” Philip’s unmistakable plummy voice sang out.

  “Well, that’s not a problem anymore, is it?”

  “No, it’s not. At least it shouldn’t be.”

  “You did take care of that other little matter, didn’t you?” Blake’s jaw tightened.

  “You mean . . . ?”

  Blake nodded.

  “It’s all as it should be. No worries there.”

  “Good. This is the last of it. Take it, and be gone.”

  Philip handed Blake a white envelope. “This should cover it.”

  Blake stuffed it into his jacket pocket. “You’d better not contact me again until this is all over with. We can’t take the chance of—”

  “I know,” Philip hissed and picked up the box, balancing it on his hip. Addie scooted backward down the stairs crab-style and ducked inside an open doorway, pressing her back up against the oak wall panelling. When Blake’s and Philip’s voices stopped right outside the doorway, she sucked in a deep breath and pressed back harder. “At least we won’t have to worry about him showing his face around here again.”

  A shadowy figure hovered in the doorway. Addie’s teeth gnashed together. It seemed her old family friend definitely wasn’t the person she thought he was, and until she could figure out whom they were talking about and why they didn’t have to worry anymore. She couldn’t risk being discovered.

  Making herself as small as she could against the wall, she slid toward an ancient wardrobe behind the door. If she could just get inside that, maybe she could stay hidden long enough to try and hear what they were saying.

  “Where did you leave it?” Addie’s ears perked up at the uneasiness in Blake’s voice.

  “At the place we discussed earlier.”

  “And you’re sure no one’s going to stumble across it before it can permanently disappear.” By the exasperation in Blake’s voice Addie could picture him raking his fingers through his hair.

  “Not a chance. Even with that snoopy Addison Greyborne, asking her questions and stirring everything up.”

  “Do you think she knows?” There was no mistaking the concern in Blake’s strangled tone.

  “I think she’s been too consumed with her arrest that she hasn’t had time to put all the pieces together.” Philip’s voice changed from his usual singsong lilt to all-out full Irish brogue.

  “Do you think the plan is working?”

  Addie’s hand shot to her mouth to stifle the gasp in her heaving chest. She pressed herself harder against the paneled wall surface, wishing she could disappear inside it. A soft click, a blast of cold air, and a five-foot drop to wooden floor planks knocked her senseless. The wall in front of her slid closed, and complete blackness enveloped her. Addie felt around her on hands and knees until she touched what she knew to be her tote bag that had fallen through the doorway with her. She fished around inside it, yanked out her phone, and hit the flashlight app.

  The walls were rough brick, just as they were in the hidden chamber behind the fireplace, and the floor was constructed of smooth wide-planked boards. Her one beam didn’t show a wide swath of light, but it was enough to make out a passageway of sorts. No mildew, just stale air, and judging by the strands clinging to her face from time to time, a whole lot of cobwebs. Please don’t be spiderwebs. Please don’t be spiderwebs. Her hatred for spiders had her edging herself to the center of the passageway to avoid them and their probable inhabitants. Goose bumps exploded on her arms as she stumbled along the path.

  The passage twisted and turned and came to an abrupt halt at a fork. Left or right? She shone her light down the fork to the right and could make out the start of a staircase going down. The fork to the left revealed the same thing, only the stairs were going up. She flashed the light over the walls to figure out where she was in the house. So far, she had walked on a flat surface, so she knew she was still on the second floor. That meant the staircase to her right led to the main floor. She had a hunch. Now that she knew this tunnel existed, she could always come back later and explore the stairs leading up to the third floor. Right now, she wanted to test the theory she had literally fallen into.

  Addie braced her hand against the cool, damp surface of the wall, shining the light on every step before she placed her foot. It certainly wouldn’t help to step on a rat or even feel one scurry from beneath her feet. On her third step, the sidewall ended, and she felt nothing but air. She flashed the light beam into the space and discovered a small nook with a one-foot-deep ledge covered with an ornate grate on the far side of it. Is this the air duct in the hallway at the top of the stairs? She could clearly hear voices echoing through it from the foyer below and decid
ed it must be. Obviously, this wasn’t a heating duct, but a ventilation shaft. If her eyes weren’t deceiving her, there was also white scum on the ledge below the grate and the entire area was surrounded by scratches in the dust. She snapped a picture with her phone, not sure if she would even be able to make out what she was looking at now, but thought it was worth reporting to Marc, anyway.

  She inched her way down the stairs, feeling the wall for more alcoves and more empty air surprises in the dim light. When she reached the bottom, she was confused. If this was built as a ventilation shaft for the house, it should open out into the fresh air someplace not hit a dead end. Addie traced her fingers around the uneven bricks of the wall in front of her, pushing and prodding. Her fingers stumbled across a thumb-styled lever tucked in a corner. She pushed it up, nothing happened. She pressed it down. It wouldn’t budge. Then she remembered the similar-looking lever inside the chamber behind the fireplace and flipped it to the side. The wall slid open with a shudder. She was in the fireplace chamber.

  Addie took a steadying breath and flipped the fireplace lever in the same manner. The back wall of the hearth slid open, and she poked her head out, checking for questioning eyes. Coast clear, she exited, fished her ballpoint pen out of her purse, and pressed the tip into the center hole in the scroll work on the mantel. She scurried around the large desk, the last remaining piece of furniture in the otherwise empty room and opened the library door. Scanning left and right, she slid out into the hall and mall-walked out the back door. Simon. She had to find Simon. But at the bottom of the porch steps, a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around.

  Chapter 28

  “Addie, I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Hi, Blake. I . . . I was just inside looking for Simon. He dropped me off and then went to find a parking space.” She swiped away the strings of cobwebs dangling from her bangs. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

  “Yes, I was just speaking with him. I think he’s over by the far table.” Blake eyed her. “Were you crawling through the bushes to get here?” His eyes darted to the back wall.

  “Did Marc tell you about our discovery yesterday?”

  “He mentioned it, yes.” He kissed her cheek. “But I must run. I’m sure you noticed on your trip through the house that the movers came last night and packed up most of what’s left to take to my warehouse in Boston. The rest of what’s left out here will be packed up tonight after the sale’s over.”

  “I know this weekend didn’t go as planned, so I hope you didn’t have to haul too much away.”

  “Not too bad. A few larger pieces of the bedroom furniture were sold, and the buyers have made arrangements to pick it up by tomorrow. The rest of the books and collectables . . .” He shrugged with a short and humorless chuckle. “Well, it’s actually a blessing.”

  “Why would it be a blessing? You don’t get paid until it’s all sold. Charlotte’s brother will continue to hound you.”

  “Duane?” He barked a laugh. “No, he’s not going to be an issue anymore.” Malice laced his words.

  “I take it you paid him, then. You know, when we overheard you and him arguing about it.”

  “Something like that, but I must run now. Lots to finish up here. I hope to see you before I leave town tomorrow afternoon. If not, then promise me you’ll stop by the auction house the next time you’re in Boston.” He pressed her hand in his and bounded up the stairs into the house.

  Addie spotted Simon at the refreshment table, pouring a coffee from a large urn. “There you are.” She linked her arm through his. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

  His lips turned up at the corners. “Does that include crawling around in the bushes looking for me?” He picked webs from her hair. “I think that one still had its host attached.” He nudged her playfully.

  “Don’t be silly.” She shook her head and brushed her hand through her hair. “We have to talk—now. I found something important,” she added in a whisper. “I know how the thief got in and out of the library, and I have a theory on how Charlotte was killed.”

  “We already know about the chamber, and we know how she died. What else could you have possibly discovered?”

  “You won’t believe what I—”

  “Addie, Simon, how lovely to see you both here.” Maggie reached between them for a paper cup and proceeded to pour a coffee.

  Much to Addie’s dismay, they were joined by Vera and Art at the refreshment table. Sharing her recent discovery with Simon would have to wait. Maggie, full cup of coffee in hand, pinned Addie with an amused gaze. Vera’s eyes mirrored the same laughter, her gaze following the wispy tail of a cobweb floating in Addie’s face.

  Addie chuckled and pawed at it, but not before catching the look on Art’s face. Before she could decipher whether anger or concern had ignited the darkness in his eyes, his usual jovial twinkle returned.

  Addie gave one last swipe over her head to dislodge any more eight-legged hitchhikers. No doubt about it, she was washing her hair tonight. Twice. “I was speaking with Blake a few minutes ago.” She handed Art a paper cup from the stack. “He seems to have made quick work of clearing out the house like you wanted for the viewing this week.”

  “I must say I’m amazed by it.” Art nodded his appreciation as he filled the cup. “I’d asked it to be done by Thursday, but he surprised us last night when the first moving truck arrived.”

  “Surprised? How so?”

  “We weren’t expecting any movement on that part until after the weekend,” Vera chirped in. “But that’s good. I can start staging it by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “But there will be nothing left to stage.” Addie offered Vera a cup.

  Vera waved off her offer. “We have a few spooky ideas in mind.” She winked at Art.

  “Yes, Mother has been doing nothing but researching Halloween haunted houses for the past few months. It seems her new hobby is learning how to create ‘spooktacular’ ”—Maggie’s fingers hooked air quotes—“special effects.”

  “Yes.” Art grinned at Vera, his eyes gleaming with pride. “She’s come up with some wonderful ideas that I can’t wait to try out, after Blake and his crew are gone.”

  “Given the reputation of Hill Road House,” Addie said, jerking her head to the house, “added special effects sound like the perfect way to grab the attention of someone considering turning it into a tourist destination. Helps potential buyers visualize the possibilities, doesn’t it?”

  Addie’s mind whirled, connecting each encounter with the blasts of icy air, the hazy wispy figure, and the smoke spiral in the library. Someone had beaten them to their parlor tricks. What if they weren’t tricks? She squashed that thought. It was just too absurd.

  “That’s what we’re hoping.” Art squeezed Vera’s shoulder and kissed the top of her white head.

  “I, for one,” Maggie spouted, “will be glad when it’s sold and off our listing register. I think it might have damaged my agency’s reputation.”

  “Why would that be?” Simon stared at Maggie. “It has nothing to do with your other listings.”

  “Since that woman died in the house on Wednesday, and with the rumors of thefts, clients are concerned about the safety of their own listings with us.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.” Addie looked at her in disbelief. “This house had a reputation to begin with, and it’s uninhabited. Your other clients are still living in their listed properties.”

  “It seems it’s a question of the security of the lock boxes and the keys we have. It’s no secret that there was no sign of forced entry, and those wise enough don’t believe the ghost tale. However, they do believe that someone stole one of our agency’s keys to gain access. This mausoleum of a house better sell fast, so I can go into damage-control mode.”

  Addie eyed the back porch to the ivy-covered trellises. She swallowed a squeak. Her inner sleuth salivated at the idea of another mystery and she tugged on Simon’s arm. “It was nice to see you all a
gain. Good luck with the house sale”—Addie flashed Art a smile—“but Simon and I have a thing we have to go to.”

  Simon glanced at her and then smiled. “Yes, that’s right. I forgot we have ‘a thing.’ ”

  Addie gripped Simon’s hand and dragged him away from the trio.

  “Mind telling me what that was all about?”

  Addie pointed to the third floor of the house. “Do you see two windows up there?”

  “Yes, so?”

  “Except I was just upstairs, and there are no rear windows in the attic.”

  “What do you mean you were upstairs?”

  Addie waved off his question. “I’ll explain later, I promise, but I saw with my own eyes the attic is one large, empty room. There are two front-facing windows and one on either side. But the back wall is solid.”

  “Maybe there was a door you just didn’t notice.”

  “No, from my vantage point I had a good view. There were no doors. I need to get back up there. We can take that hidden staircase I found. There was another door leading up to the third level that I didn’t explore. I bet it comes out behind what looks like that solid wall in the back of the attic.”

  “What hidden stairway, and why were you in the attic to begin with?”

  As they wandered around the side of the house to the front, Addie relayed the story of her most recent adventures. A sense of smugness left its telltale mark of a sly smile. She had cracked this case. “What do you think?”

  Simon scrubbed his hand through his thick black hair. “I think that Philip and Blake know more about what happened here than either of them has let on, and it seems Philip’s appearance here didn’t come as the surprise they allowed us to believe.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I think Blake was so reluctant to report the thefts to the police—”

  “Because he was the one committing them, or he put Philip up to it.”

  “It also gives me a new theory for Charlotte’s death.”

  “You said that before, and I don’t understand. It was a heart attack. There’s no other indication of anything else.”