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

by Willow Monroe

  With his hand in the small of her back, Ross guided Gemma to a small room off of the conference room that had been turned into a makeshift interrogation room with some privacy. In the center was a table with some sort of gadget on it.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this but the CID has been listening in on all of our interviews,” Ross warned her as he motioned for her to sit. “The general was involved in a few shady deals and they’ve actually been keeping tabs on him for some time.”

  “That’s why he made me feel so weird,” Gemma said with a little shiver.

  “He was mostly just a con man, and he was encouraged to retire quietly.” While Ross talked, Gemma watched him manipulate what looked like a miniature flying saucer in the center of the small table.

  “Commander, are you there?” Ross asked.

  “Yes, Detective. You’re coming through loud and clear.”

  “Sir, I’m here with Ms. Gemma Stone. She’s the young lady who found the general’s body,” Ross continued.

  “Carry on.”

  “We will be recording this,” he warned Gemma.

  She nodded.

  “Say that you understand.”

  What? Oh. “I understand.”

  Ross then gave the date and day and the place of their interview. So formal. So official. “Gemma would you state your full name, please.”

  Gemma did as he asked. Her voice sounded surprisingly calm and clear despite the nervousness coiling in her stomach, causing it to cramp.

  “Gemma, if you would just tell us what happened in your own words. Try not to leave anything out,” Ross said.

  “Okay,” Gemma said and began relating the story of how she’d been waiting in line to get their room keys. The commander asked her a few questions while she talked and she explained the EEMA convention and why HealthGems was there. Closing her eyes, Gemma remembered hearing Mrs. Northlake and the general greeting each other like old friends. She told them how the two were sitting on the sofa talking when there was some kind of a disturbance behind the front desk.

  “Was it an argument?” Ross asked.

  “I don’t know. I just know that Victoria Northlake was up there. I think she lost her temper with one of the employees. The next thing I know another man...I found out later it was her brother...”

  “Vince Northlake,” Ross said for the commander’s information.

  “Vince removed her from the area and then Mrs. Northlake followed them,” Gemma explained.

  “Go on,” Ross prompted.

  Gemma took a sip of her drink, took a deep breath and said, “A couple was trying to get in the door with a double stroller. It was so cold and one of the babies was crying. I held the door open for them and let them to go ahead of me in line. And that’s when I bumped into the general and he fell off the sofa.”

  “You had no idea he was dead until that moment?” Ross asked.

  “I thought he was sleeping. When he started to fall, I tried to catch him. He hit the floor. The father, the guy pushing the stroller, felt for a pulse and told me he was dead,” Gemma explained.

  “He’s a paramedic,” Ross told her.

  “I thought he looked like he knew what he was doing.”

  “How did General West happen to have your business card in his pocket, Ms. Stone?” the commander’s voice came through the gadget on the desk as clearly as if he was in the room with them.

  Gemma swallowed hard and then explained how General West had stopped by their table earlier that morning, listened while she explained how the jewelry worked and then how she had given him one of her cards. “I have a new cell phone number but it’s not on the cards so I wrote it on the back for him.”

  “But the number on the back is not yours, is that correct?”

  “That’s what they tell me. I don’t understand it, either,” Gemma explained, hating the defensive sound that had crept into her voice.

  “Did you know there was money in the briefcase?”

  “No, sir,” Gemma answered.

  “They said you asked about it several times after his body was found.”

  “I’d seen him with it off and on all day and when it wasn’t with his...his body, I was afraid someone had stolen it,” Gemma explained.

  Ross reached across the table and put his hands over hers. His touch calmed her somewhat.

  “Had you met General West before today?”

  “No, sir. I didn’t even know who he was until he gave me his card,” Gemma explained.

  “Can you think of anything else, Ms. Stone?” the commander asked.

  Gemma shook her head, realized he couldn’t see her and said, “No, sir. I think that’s all.”

  “Okay. Detective Ferguson, I think that’s all we’ll need right now. Ms. Stone, please do not leave the premises until you’re given permission.”

  “Yes, sir,” Gemma said.

  “We’re keeping everyone on the property until they’ve been properly checked out and cleared,” Ross told the commander.

  “Thank you. Ordinarily we would ask your coroner to send the biological samples from the body to our closest field office but I’m afraid with the weather, that’s out of the question.”

  “We have the ability to process that here, sir,” Ross assured him.

  They ended the call after a few last minute instructions. Ross pushed some buttons on the phone and the little green lights went out. The little space ship went to sleep.

  “Talk to me,” he said, leaning back in the chair, hands behind his head.

  Gemma stated the first thought that came into her head. “I think you guys are placing way too much emphasis on the business card and phone number,” she said almost immediately.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you this but the number you wrote on the back of that card is from a throw away cell phone.”

  “You told me that earlier,” Gemma reminded him.

  “That number has shown up on several prominent politician’s personal phones threatening them and their families,” Ross told her.

  Gemma gasped. “Ross, I swear, I just wrote down what I thought was my new cell number.”

  “I know. You just transposed two sets of numbers. I can see the pattern,” he told her.

  Gemma felt a measure of relief. “How could someone have shot him right there in front of everyone? I mean that lobby was packed.”

  “Small caliber, probably a twenty-two. They could have used a silencer. Right up close and personal. With all the excitement and talking going on, no one would have even heard it,” Ross explained.

  Gemma thought she would have heard a gunshot but maybe he was right.

  “What do you think is the most important element in all this?” Ross asked, changing the subject. He smiled, but it was obvious he was interested in her opinion.

  “I think that if you find out why he was carrying all that money around and who he was scheduled to meet at Northlake Manor, you’ll get your answers,” Gemma told him.

  “Any theories on who that might have been?” Ross asked.

  Gemma shook her head.

  “Okay, I’m still working to get this solved before the CID arrives. Right now their theory is that you’re working with someone in DC to have the general killed,” Ross explained.

  Gemma opened her mouth to protest but Ross held up his hand.

  “They’re not as open to other possibilities as I am at least right now,” he said with a tender smile. “I just wanted to pick your brain. If you think of anything, you’ll let me know, please.”

  It was a simple request and Gemma truly wanted, to help but she had doubts she would ever figure this one out before the Army arrived.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time Gemma left Ross, it was getting late. She could hardly wait for the day to be over.

  Holly and her mother brought their bags in and took them upstairs to their room while Gemma talked to the few remaining conference attendees and some of the presenters as well. But her heart wasn’t in it and
it showed. She mentally berated herself for letting this murder get in the way of her presentations, but her thoughts and emotions were so scrambled she could barely think straight.

  Nick came by once or twice but it was obvious he was busy interviewing people from both conventions. He even talked to Bilker, who tried to sell him a copy of his book. At the same time, Nick was trying to keep up with developments on the murder. Again, here was a man she cared about in his element, doing what he loved best. And Gemma just couldn’t think past General Loden West tumbling off that sofa dead as a doornail.

  Finally, the long, long day was over. Mitch arrived to have dinner with Holly and offered to drive her mom home afterward, telling them that he’d had to bring his four-wheel drive pickup just to get there. The snow storm had finally hit and was expected to be stalled in the valley for a while. They tried to talk Gemma into eating with them but she was simply exhausted and wanted nothing more than a hot bath and to be alone to collect her thoughts.

  With their jewelry locked up tight for the night and everything as secure as she could make it, Gemma took the elevator up to the third floor. The elevator was beautifully done in rich wood and gleaming mirrors with the same creamy plush carpet on the floor. Her cell phone rang just as she reached her floor and she fished it out of her pocket. It was Nick.

  “Hey, I’m calling it a night as far as the convention is concerned,” he told her.

  “I already threw in the towel. I’m almost to my room and ready for a hot bath,” Gemma told him, holding the key to her room tightly in her other hand. She was famous for losing keys and she didn’t need any more mistakes today. Gemma had been surprised when she’d been handed an actual key to her room instead of one of those electronic cards. She wondered why they hadn’t changed over to the electronic card locks and then finally decided they just liked the charm of a real key.

  “What are you doing for dinner?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I’m not even hungry,” she told him.

  “At least let me bring you a sandwich,” he insisted.

  Gemma smiled. Nick was always trying to take care of her. “Okay, okay. But let me get a hot bath and changed into something more comfortable.”

  “Ummm, I like the sound of that,” Nick teased.

  Before Gemma could respond with what she hoped was a witty comeback, she saw a uniformed police officer sitting in a straight backed chair near her door. “Nick, I gotta go,” Gemma told him and ended the call.

  “Can I see some identification, please,” he asked politely as he stood up.

  “Of course,” Gemma said, digging her wallet out of her purse.

  The young officer with the neatly trimmed dark hair, checked her ID, smiled and handed it back to her. “We were told to check everyone, Ms. Stone,” he explained.

  “I understand. As far as we know there is a murderer in the building,” Gemma said. “Are there officers on all the floors?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And we’ll be trading off shifts several times during the night. So don’t be alarmed if you hear us out here,” he said.

  “I appreciate the warning,” Gemma replied.

  “We want to make sure everyone stays put but we want to make sure everyone is safe as well,” he told her as he moved aside to let her pass.

  The room assigned to Gemma and Holly was as gorgeous as the rest of Northlake Manor. The beautiful furnishings and almost regal looking décor took her back in time maybe a hundred years. Gemma decided that there was probably a million dollars’ worth of antiques at Northlake Manor.

  She opened her suitcase and found her favorite pajamas right on top just like she’d packed them. They were flannel with pink, red and black stilettos scattered over the white background. Not the sexiest thing, she knew, but they were soft, comfortable and warm and they were the last gift she’d gotten from her mother. Now, looking at them, she smiled a little.

  The tub was a big, deep claw-foot affair and while it filled with hot water, she pulled her hair up out of the way with a clip, sprinkled some soothing lavender and chamomile oil into the water and sank down into the steamy bath with a contented sigh. This, she decided, was heaven.

  While Gemma soaked, she thought about Mrs. Northlake and made a mental note to check on her if she didn’t see her soon. It appeared that the commotion at the front desk had upset her and Gemma hoped whatever it was had gotten settled. Then she remembered the disruptive noises she’d heard in the kitchen earlier that day and wondered if Victoria Northlake was always so volatile. She decided to ask Ross, just out of curiosity, if he knew anything about the family dynamics there.

  So far what she knew for sure was that there were three children. Benjamin looked like pictures of his deceased father - tall, dark, regal looking. Vincent Northlake was just as tall but beefy. Victoria was the only girl and was almost as tall as Benjamin. As far as she knew she’d never heard whether there were spouses or children.

  None of them even resembled petite Mrs. Northlake, their mother. Simone was her name. Gemma remembered thinking how it suited her and that soft little accent she had.

  After all of this was over it would be fun to do a little more research on the Northlake family. They had owned Northlake Manor for several generations. Nick might be able to use it to do a story on the place, maybe draw some much needed positive attention after the news of this murder got out.

  The worst part was that she was a prime suspect, according to Ross. The thought was too much, and since there was nothing she could do about it tonight, she pushed the fear out of her mind. Ross would fix it, she hoped, and right now she really needed to relax.

  Thinking of Nick reminded her that he would be there soon. Reluctantly, she climbed out of the tub, dried off and stepped into her pajamas, smiling as the soft fabric caressed her skin.

  “Did the police officer check your ID?” Gemma asked when she let Nick into her room.

  “He did,” Nick assured her and then he grinned. “And, my goodness, did you get all dressed up for me?”

  “Hush,” Gemma said, taking the sandwich he offered and sitting cross-legged on the bed.

  “I’m just teasing. You know I think you look good in anything,” he said with a laugh. Kicking off his shoes, Nick placed their drinks on the little table in between the two beds and mimicked her pose on the other bed.

  “You’re sweet,” Gemma said as she unwrapped her sandwich. Inside she found one of her favorites, tuna salad on whole wheat toast and a dill pickle. “Yum,” she murmured as she took a bite.

  “Yum is right,” Nick agreed and they ate in silence for a few moments.

  “So have you talked to Ross in the last hour or so?” she asked.

  Nick shook his head. “He’s been talking to the CID - who are still stuck in DC by the way - and doing interviews.”

  “Has that drawing on the white board in the conference room changed any?” she asked, shivering when she remembered her name there, circled and attached to General Loden West with a straight line.

  “Honey, Ross is not going to let anything happen to you. He’s a good detective. He’ll find out who killed the general but he’s going to need a little time,” Nick assured her.

  “I know he will,” Gemma said, swallowing the last of her sandwich. “It’s just scary.”

  “Oh, I do have one little piece of information,” Nick said quickly. “The money in the briefcase wasn’t specially marked in any way.”

  “A briefcase full of unmarked bills. Sounds like ransom money,” Gemma mused.

  They both looked at each other.

  “No one has been kidnapped as far as we know,” Nick said.

  “And why would he carry ransom money around with him in a public place like this. No - that just doesn’t add up,” Gemma said, shaking her head.

  “Hey, Ross is the detective here. Let him do the detecting,” Nick said, pointing his pickle at her. It held firm for a moment and then drooped to one side.

  The sight was enough to send her into a fit of gi
ggles and soon Nick joined in, their laughter filling up the space. It felt good to laugh.

  When they calmed down he stood up, stretched and then leaned forward and kissed her.

  “You taste like a dill pickle,” he said and then kissed her again. “I like dill pickles.”

  “You are so crazy,” Gemma whispered. Looping both arms around his neck, she kissed him back.

  “Have you given any thought to whether you’re going to accept my Christmas present or not?” Nick asked, tracing around her lips with his fingertips.

  Nick had surprised her with reservations for a weekend getaway at a mountain lodge for Valentine’s Day weekend. Like the gentle man and good friend that he was, he had told her to take her time and think about it. Gemma had tried to think about it but the decision was difficult with handsome, Ross Ferguson filling up her thoughts and her senses more than she wanted to admit.

  “Tell you what. Why don’t I change the reservation and get us separate rooms for that weekend?” Nick offered, kissing her forehead, her eyelids and then the tip of her nose. “I just want to spend time with you, Gemma. The sleeping arrangements do not matter to me.”

  Gemma’s heart melted. “That, my friend, is a deal no girl in her right mind could pass up,” she said, hugging him tight. “If I’m not in prison.”

  “You won’t be,” Nick promised. “Ross and I will not let that happen.”

  “I believe you,” Gemma said.

  “Now, I’m going to see if there’s any development in the murder investigation.”

  “Good night,” Gemma said, walking him to the door.

  He kissed her one last time and then left.

  In the hall, directly across from her room, was a different police officer sitting in the chair.

  Gemma pulled back the brocade bedspread, folded it at the foot of the bed and then crawled into the soft, cool sheets and groaned. The bed seemed to cocoon her and in spite of her nervousness, she was lulled to sleep within just a few moments.

  It could have been hours or only minutes later but Gemma awoke knowing someone was in her room. She could hear them moving around slowly, quietly. Keeping her eyes closed, she lay perfectly still, holding her breath and her mind frantically searched for a weapon. The only thing she could come up with was the brass lamp beside her bed. It had to weigh fifty pounds.