Mansions Can Be Murder: A Cozy Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 2)

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Mansions Can Be Murder: A Cozy Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 2

by Willow Monroe


  "Absolutely," Gemma said, catching her breath.

  "Good. Until tonight then," he whispered and brushed a kiss over the backs of her fingers.

  His warm lips and the look on his face sent another shiver down Gemma's spine.

  "And stay out of trouble until I get back," he added.

  "I will," Gemma said, giving him a two-fingered salute.

  Chapter Two

  "Wow, if I wasn't already engaged..."

  "Oh, hush," Gemma said, as the two of them watching the handsome detective walk away. "You wouldn't trade Mitch for the world and you know it."

  “You’re right,” Holly said and they both paused to look at the huge diamond on Holly's hand. It had been there since Mitch proposed on Christmas day. Even though Holly designed jewelry, she wore very little. The jewelry she did wear was usually simple and elegant. Gemma was still trying to get used to seeing the beautiful, sparkling ring on her friend’s hand.

  "The question is - have you traded Nick for that sexy detective?" Holly said with a laugh.

  "I don't have to trade one for the other," Gemma said. "They're both being perfect gentlemen about our little arrangement.”

  "For how long?" Holly wanted to know. "Just how patient is your detective?"

  "He's not my detective," Gemma protested.

  "Couldn't prove that by me. You haven't noticed the way he looks at you?" Holly asked.

  In reality, Gemma had noticed and, even though she enjoyed it, she continued to put it out of her mind. Both men had assured her she didn't have to choose between them until she was ready. While dating both she was able to explore her feelings for each man, one she had known since childhood, the other a new interest that brought a different kind of excitement to her life.

  Holly and Gemma worked in near silence for nearly half an hour, setting out their displays and making sure everything looked perfect. Then they double checking their security measures. After losing so many pieces at the mall over Christmas, they were being extra careful. They were going to take orders for custom pieces during this convention, which was something new for them as well.

  "I think I'm going to find the restroom," Gemma said.

  “Hey, watch out for those zombies,” Holly said with a mischievous smile.

  Shaking her head, Gemma walked away from the table. They were going to tease her about that for a long time to come. She stepped through the closest door, which connected the addition to the main lobby of the hotel.

  Gemma was surprised to find it was nearly as busy as the convention hall, with plenty of guests lined up to check in. She made a mental note to remind Holly that they needed to stop by the front desk and get their room key before it got much later.

  Thick cream-colored carpet muffled her footsteps, but what caught and held her attention was the sumptuous décor. She felt as if she’d stumbled into Victorian England. A tall, intricately carved mahogany counter spanned the space, designed to block the computer screens from view of the guests. Several elegant sitting areas were tucked into nooks around the large room, accentuated by gorgeous ornate mirrors. The mirrors reflected warm light from old-fashioned lamps that looked like they might have, at one time, been oil lanterns.

  Even with the tall ceilings, the dazzling crystal chandeliers made the scene warm and inviting. And even though it was crowded, there was nothing like the chaos in the convention hall. It really was almost like stepping back into another time.

  Off to her left, she spotted a discreet sign pointing the way to the restrooms. The narrow, dimly lit hall was away from the bustle of the lobby and the sudden quiet reminded her of what had happened at the mall at Christmas. She took a deep breath and hesitated only a moment before she shook off the uncomfortable memory.

  After that sign, though, nothing else was marked. Forcing herself forward, she stopped at the first door she came to and pushed it open.

  And immediately knew she had made a mistake.

  Tables were set up along the wall, much like the EEMA convention next door. To her right were several other-worldly creatures brandishing light swords. Tall shaggy monsters sparred with leather-clad men in one corner, vaguely familiar from a movie she and Nick had once watched. This room had to be an overflow area for the sci-fi convention.

  The closest table was occupied by a man with thick glasses, sitting in a folding chair. There were several stacks of books on either side of the table and boxes behind him. At the moment, he seemed to be having a heated discussion with someone in an elaborate military uniform. Even as she watched, the man with the books stood up, shouted something, and almost shoved one of the books right into the older man’s face.

  Why would the military be here? Gemma studied the older man. Instead of reacting to the first man’s tirade, he stood ramrod straight, chest puffed out. That chest was covered with medals and he carried a briefcase in his left hand. The man at the table shouted out something else. Gemma only understood a few words, something about ‘a corrupt armed forces’.

  A whirring, buzzing sound caught her attention and she saw what looked like robots off to her left. A man that looked like Mr. Spock from Star Trek brushed past her, quickly followed by someone who was supposed to be Captain Kirk. Near the man with the books stood another man in an old fashioned looking, long tailed coat and a top hat. He was surrounded by several onlookers and he seemed to be showing off a cane. It was made of wood with an ornate brass knob on top that looked like a pistol. He brandished the cane, showing it off for the crowd.

  And then she saw the zombies again. They were more frightening than that dark hallway. She turned and hurried back through the door, her heart speeding up.

  “They’re all just people. They’re not real,” she reminded herself as she hurried through the semi-darkness toward what she hoped were the bathrooms. Nick told them earlier that the sci-fi convention had turned into more of a costume party than anything else.

  Still, just the sight of even pretend zombies scared her silly. She knew it was stupid, and that everyone else thought her phobia was funny, but that didn’t help.

  The bathroom was in stark contrast to the elegant décor of the front lobby. It was tiled with clean, shiny contemporary fixtures. Gemma was still trying to convince herself the zombies weren’t real when she washed her hands and looked at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head, she ran her fingers through her unruly curls that everyone called strawberry blonde. They were tamed momentarily and Gemma frowned as she watched them flip right back up in defiance.

  “Okay, you win this time,” she said, pointing to her reflection. “But one of these days....” Gemma couldn’t think of anything to threaten her hair with, except for maybe scissors or a hat.

  Steeling herself for the walk back down the scary hall, she opened the bathroom door and came face to face with a ghost. Heart pounding, unable to breathe or talk she stared down at a tiny, ancient woman with a wizened, wrinkled face and snow white hair. Dressed mostly in white, she appeared to be carrying a huge mesh bag of sorts on one arm.

  The ghost clutched her chest with one hand, her pale blue eyes growing wide. “Oh, my, I think we scared each other half to death,” she said.

  Gemma blinked. A ghost frightened of her?

  “I’m so sorry, dear. I’m Simone Northlake,” the ghost introduced herself in a warm voice with a soft French accent. And then she caught one of Gemma’s hands in hers. They were soft and warm.

  “You’re not a...” Gemma gasped, staring down at the gnarled hand that held onto hers.

  “Not a what, dear?”

  “I thought you were a ghost,” Gemma confessed, corralling her imagination.

  The old lady chuckled and squeezed Gemma’s fingers. “Oh, my, sometimes I feel like one around here. And my children would probably prefer that I be a ghost. But believe me, I’m very much alive.”

  “Thank goodness,” Gemma finally caught her breath.

  “Now you look as pale as a ghost,” Simone said. “Are you going to be okay?”
/>
  “Yes, ma’am,” Gemma said. She’d heard plenty of rumors about Mrs. Northlake, but never met her. “It’s so nice to meet you,” Gemma said, wondering if Simone knew about the rumors.

  “Are you here for one of the conventions?” Mrs. Northlake asked.

  “Yes,” Gemma said and quickly produced one of her business cards from her jacket pocket. “My name is Gemma Stone. I’m with HealthGems.”

  “You look too pretty and too smart to get involved with that science fiction crowd,” Mrs. Northlake said, slipping Gemma’s card into the mesh bag.

  “I promise I’ll stay as far away from that as I can get,” Gemma assured her. “Those zombies scare the life out of me.”

  “Me, too,” Mrs. Northlake said with a soft laugh. “Will you be staying with us the whole weekend?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “I will, I’m sure,” Gemma said.

  The doorway to the sci-fi convention hall flew open hard enough to bounce back against the wall. Loud voices reached the two women. Before the door slammed closed again, Gemma saw the man dressed in a dark military uniform marching away from them, his gait quick and angry. She caught a glimpse of silver hair and heard the briefcase bumping rhythmically against his leg.

  “I’d better get back to my table,” Gemma said. Then she noted that Mrs. Northlake looked a little distressed. “Unless you’d like for me to stay with you here until...?”

  Until what? Gemma didn’t know how to finish the sentence. She wanted to help the poor woman, but she couldn’t just stand here all day, either.

  But Mrs. Northlake composed herself quickly and waved Gemma’s words aside with one small hand. “I’ll be fine. This has been my home for over fifty years. I’ve never been afraid here and I doubt I ever will be. Now, quick, give me a hug and you get back to your convention.”

  Gemma hugged the tiny woman, thinking that she didn’t feel nearly as fragile as she looked. At least now she knew that at least one of the rumors about Mrs. Northlake was true - she was known for her warm, friendly hugs.

  Gemma inhaled her lavender scent and thought it would be interesting to do some research, maybe even have a longer talk with the elderly woman about her life. All Gemma knew was that Simone had married Winter Northlake and moved here to his ancestral home in Virginia. Did she really grow up in France? The little lilt in her speech made Gemma think so.

  “Mother, what are you doing?”

  Both Gemma and Simone turned toward the sound of the voice. A stern looking woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties marched toward them down the darkened hall.

  “Ms. Stone, this is my daughter, Victoria Northlake,” Simone made the introductions with a wave of one pale hand.

  “And you are...” Victoria looked Gemma up and down, her nose wrinkled.

  “She is a guest here,” Simone snapped, meeting her daughter’s gaze.

  Victoria merely nodded and under the dim light, Gemma saw that the woman was dressed in business attire. Her face was as cold as her voice had been earlier and her hair was pulled back to a severe bun at the nape of her neck. She looked nothing like her mother.

  “My daughter runs the hotel here at Northlake Manor. If you need anything at all, you let her know,” Mrs. Northlake said and pushed past Gemma into the ladies room.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Northlake,” Gemma called after her.

  Gemma and Victoria exchanged brief, cold smiles and Gemma hurried away thinking that the temperature dropped about ten degrees after Simone disappeared into the restroom. That confirmed yet another rumor for her; things were not always what they appeared to be in the Northlake family.

  “I was afraid you’d gotten kidnapped,” Holly said when Gemma returned to their table.

  “Well, I sort of got lost and then I saw a ghost and...”

  “A ghost?”

  Gemma laughed. “Actually it was Simone Northlake.”

  Holly made a face. “I’ve heard that she’s a monster to her employees.”

  Shaking her head, Gemma said. “I don’t think so. I think we’re hearing about her daughter, Victoria. From what I just saw, having her as a boss would scare me almost as much as those zombies.”

  Holly laughed and, after getting directions from Gemma, scurried away to the bathroom.

  "What beautiful jewelry."

  Gemma looked up into the face of the older man in the elaborate dress uniform she’d seen earlier in the sci-fi room. Silver stars shone brightly along his epaulets – four of them. She wasn’t sure, but thought that made him a four-star general. She hadn’t been able to see him well before, but now he appeared to be much older than she first thought, certainly retired military. The stars on his his thick silver hair contrasted with his deep tan and the black, neatly trimmed mustache that hid his upper lip. From his calm demeanor, he seemed to have recovered from his argument with the guy at the book table.

  "Thank you," Gemma said.

  "The only thing prettier at this table is you," he added with a smile and a wink.

  Gemma felt heat creeping up her cheeks.

  "My name is Loden West," he said, handing Gemma a thick business card which read West Industries and underneath that, Loden West, Founder. "I’m retired military, but now I run my own enterprise. Tell me about your product."

  Gemma explained HealthGems, their origin and purpose and how they fit into a healthy lifestyle, from the heart rate monitors to the bio-rhythm feedback pieces to the whole line for diabetics. The longer she talked, the more excited she became about the weekend ahead. "I have a Power Point presentation that I let run in a loop on the laptop here that might explain it better. And we’ve got a few new items in development especially geared toward encouraging people to move more throughout their day,” Gemma told him as she opened her computer and turned it so he could see the screen.

  He had quietly watched about half the slides when Holly appeared and Gemma introduced her as their designer.

  "I was just telling your friend here the jewelry was so beautiful and now I’ve learned that it’s practical as well," he said, and there was that look again as if he was beaming at two precocious daughters. "It outshines the technology inside, which is an innovative idea."

  "Thank you, sir," Holly said with a smile.

  "Loden West," he said, shaking Holly's hand.

  "Here's one of our cards," Gemma told him, reaching into her jacket pocket. It was empty. She’d given the last one to Mrs. Northlake. She grabbed one off the stack, paused a moment to remember her new cell number and scribbled it on the back. They hadn't had time to get new cards printed.

  The general took her card and then asked. "Would you consider selling?"

  "Selling?" they both said together.

  "HealthGems," he said, motioning toward the table. "I buy fledgling businesses and contact my interested investors, giving them a much needed financial boost. It would certainly make you proud to see HealthGems on the Fortune 500 list."

  "Yes, sir. That would make us proud, but...” Gemma said, glancing at Holly. She was pretty sure her friend was in agreement. "I’m thinking we’d like to make that happen ourselves.”

  “Oh, but you could stay on as management,” General West put in quickly.

  Gemma thought he no longer looked like the proud, reserved military man she’d been talking to. In fact, he was beginning to look like some sort of slick salesman.

  “No, thank you. We’re not interested,” Holly said, meeting the general with an unflinching gaze. “At some point we might be, but not right-.”

  "Well, when you change your mind, you have my card," he snapped, cutting her off. "I’m sure we could work something out," he added with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

  "I doubt we will," Holly said quickly. "But if we do, we'll let you know."

  General Loden West was already walking away from them, after one last angry look.

  "Why would a retired four star general turn up at a fitness convent
ion? Or a science fiction convention, for that matter?” Gemma asked as they watched him walk away.

  “Who knows, but I recognize that name from somewhere. I’m just not sure where,” Holly said.

  Gemma shuddered. “I have a feeling he’s up to no good.”

  Chapter Three

  “And when did you become such a man magnet?" Holly teased. "Every time I look at you today, you've got some guy hanging around."

  "Some guys I don’t mind, but that one was old enough to be my grandpa," Gemma said, turning her attention to her laptop again.

  "Still..." Holly said and looked Gemma up and down as if appraising her outfit. "We could put you in some hot pink spandex and..."

  Gemma burst into laughter.

  “Oh, I saw Nick out in the lobby,” Holly told Gemma. “He was with some huge guy in a green costume.”

  “Like the Incredible Hulk?” Gemma asked, rolling her eyes.

  “Yeah, you would have thought he was twelve years old the way he was acting,” Holly said. Both of them giggled.

  Gemma had seen that boyish, child-like side of Nick often, even after they had become adults. It was one of the things she loved about him.

  “Smile.”

  Both Holly and Gemma turned to find themselves staring right at Nick and his photographer from the newspaper. He talked them into posing for a few more and then began telling them excitedly about the magical cane someone had invented and was showing off at the sci-fi convention.

  “A cane?” That was Holly.

  “Yeah,” Nick said and in his excitement began to explain. “It’s called steampunk, modeled after the Victorian era, but full of fantastical machines and gadgets.”

  Gemma remembered seeing a man in a long coat and a top hat with a cane. “I just thought it was another costume. But then I thought that general was just a guy in costume as well.”

  “He’s not,” Nick said, suddenly serious.

  Holly shook her head and Gemma handed Nick his card.

  “Loden West – he stopped by here a few minutes ago. I think the uniform makes him a retired four star general from the United States Army,” Holly explained.

 

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