My mind turned everything over.
Sebastian. The fires. Abigail. The arsonist had had access to the computer system at the library. Would he really have gone ahead and told the cops if he’d been in on a murder if Abigail was involved? Surely not.
He was over the moon in love with her. And he’d been in all of her pictures. She’d used him and thrown him away, and he’d lost his mind… that had to be it.
I stumbled in the dark at the back of the inn, but found the basement doors. I brought out my phone for extra light and unlocked the latch. I trundled down the stairs, closed up after myself and made for Gamma’s secret doorway.
My heart threatened to beat its way out of my ribcage. This was the second time I’d been on a murder case, and it struck me how difficult it had been, even after all my training.
I knocked three times in a specifically timed order then unlocked Gamma’s armory door and entered, shutting it again and locking it.
Gamma sat up on her bed, her hair in the curlers I’d brought her with the pizza last night. She blinked at me. “Slumber party?” she asked.
“I think I’ve figured out who did it.”
“Run it by me.” Gamma practically leaped out of her makeshift bed and hurried to the desk in her fluffy pink nightgown. I joined her on one of the fancy chrome swivel chairs.
I put the paper down and my notes. “Tonight, Abigail turned up at Sebastian’s house and he accused her of stealing from him.”
“Stealing?”
“And look at this,” I said, handing her the paper. “Read it.” I leaped out of my chair and paced back and forth while she read the article. My mind ticked over.
“Good heavens.” Gamma looked up. “She has no money.”
“It looks like she’s not getting the money from Hannah’s will or there’s been a mix-up. Maybe she spent it all?”
“Hmm.” Gamma folded the newspaper and tossed it to one side. “So, she stole from Sebastian. What else might she have stolen?”
“Did you see the mention of the arsonist?” I asked. “He was in love with her. He would do anything for her. He wouldn’t blab if she was involved, and, think about it, he had access to the library’s computer system. Their surveillance.”
“You think they were in cahoots?”
I managed not to snigger at the word. “Maybe. I don’t know. But I have to have definitive proof that she was in financial dire straits. If I could head over there and break-in, figure out the truth about what happened… I’m sure she did it, Gamma.”
“The ring!” Gamma said, leaping out of her chair as well.
“The ring!” I agreed. “Of course. Abigail must have stolen Grayson’s ring from Sebastian.”
“Who stole it from Grayson.”
“Do you think she planted it at the scene?” I asked.
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves here.” Gamma paced back and forth. “But yes, I agree with you. We need evidence. If you can prove she did this…”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” I said, slapping the back of my hand into my palm. “The only thing. I mean, the arsonist had an alibi but could have helped her. Grayson, who owned the ring, was out of town, and Abigail clearly had money issues and a problem with her sister.”
“Do it.” Gamma raised a fist. “Break into her house!”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“Oh, but it is,” Gamma said, gesturing to the armory. “We’ve got everything we need to turn you into a creature of stealth.”
There was no point in hesitating now. We had a real lead, and I had two days to prove my grandmother’s innocence without outing myself as an agent.
“Let’s do it.”
30
I was back in my all-black getup, balaclava included, a grapple gun strapped to my belt, a pair of night vision goggles hanging from a strap around my neck. The SUV was parked two blocks away, just for safety’s sake, and I hovered outside the massive stone wall that separated me from Abigail’s property and mansion.
My reconnaissance so far had shown me an empty driveway. Abigail wasn’t home. That was both good and bad. If she had an alarm system, it would make things more complicated. Not impossible, but complicated.
“Talk to me about the alarm,” I whispered.
“According to my research,” Gamma said, in my earpiece, “Abigail’s alarm was installed by one of our local companies. The same company that provided the surveillance for the library, in fact.”
“Faulty?”
“Not from what I’ve heard.”
“And where did you hear this?” I whispered.
“I have my sources.” A pause. “Martha works reception at the alarm company. She’s a friend.”
“Of course she is.” I stepped back and studied the exterior of the wall. “Did Martha say anything about disabling the alarm?”
“No. I didn’t pry for that information when we had our afternoon tea two weeks ago,” Gamma replied. “It would have been highly inappropriate.”
“Pity.”
“The alarm won’t be a problem, Charlotte. I packed a signal jammer into your backpack.”
“Nice.” I let my backpack down and brought out a small, handheld device. “It’s neat.”
“It’s state of the art,” Gamma replied. “Press the green and red buttons when you’re about to enter the home and it will jam the signal from the sensors to the alarm pad. Lock the two buttons in place with the switch on the side of the device and you’ll have free access to the house.”
“Do I want to know why you have something like this?” I asked.
“I like to collect things?”
I didn’t press further. What I didn’t know, hopefully wouldn’t hurt me. I had my suspicions that the jammer was connected to Gamma’s ongoing feud with Jessie Belle-Blue.
“I’m going over,” I said, tucking the signal jammer into a pocket along my belt.
I brought up my grapple gun, aimed, and fired it over the wall. I tugged on the end of the cord until the grapple struck stone and hooked into place, then attached the gun to my belt.
“Careful,” Gamma said. “That’s got quite a powerful—”
I hit the button to retract the grapple and it tugged me off my feet, slammed me into the wall and scraped me up the side of it. I reached the apex, toppled over to the other side and landed with a thump. The grapple gun, to add insult to injury, fell on top of my head.
“Ow.” I rubbed the sore spots—which were everywhere.
“I told you. Powerful.”
“Now, I’m concerned that the signal jammer will deafen me when I hit the buttons.”
“They run on radio frequencies, Charlotte.”
I scrambled up and dropped into a crouch immediately. There wasn’t any time for pain, now. It was the dead of the night, and my grandmother needed my help.
The mansion was quiet as a grave. The porch lights were off, and the garage doors closed, but there were no cars in the driveway. Granted that didn’t mean Abigail wasn’t home.
I scurried across the lawn and up to the front of the house, checking for any alarm beams, then stopped on the porch and brought out the signal jammer. I hit the two buttons as instructed, then locked them into place with the switch along the side of the black plastic device. After, I stowed it and brought out my lock picking set.
“Good work,” Gamma said—we’d attached a camera to my black polo-neck this time. “I’m sure you could get that open with a credit card. It doesn’t look very sturdy.”
I set to work on the lock, twiddling my tools until the lock clicked. “I’m in.”
“Of course you are.”
I packed up my tools then slipped inside and shut the door, quietly, locking it again. The inside of the house was in darkness too. If I’d had more time to do this, I would’ve cased out the house for days in advance, gotten hold of a blueprint, and noted sites of interest within.
I closed my eyes and allowed them to acclimate to darkness, t
aking breaths and forcing myself to recall the place. I’d gone upstairs when I’d come here and spoken to her in the study. There had been a table full of presents right in the center of the foyer.
What I needed now, was a computer.
And that computer had been upstairs. What were the odds it was still in the same place?
I opened my eyes and made out the hulking shape of the table covered in presents in the entry area. I skirted around it and proceeded up the stairs to the first floor. The door to the study was right across from me. I stretched out a hand and felt for the doorknob. It was cold crystal.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Gamma asked. “I can’t see a thing. All black my side.”
I turned the knob and entered the room.
Blue light shimmered from the computer screen, placed on a desk in the corner. The central table I’d sat at with Abigail was empty.
“Ah, that’s better,” Gamma said.
“Bingo. I’ve got it.” I left the door open a crack in case I needed an easy escape, and headed for the computer. No password. “We’re in luck.” I didn’t sit down and clicked on the email client instead.
People were mostly idiots when it came to their email. They left them open or kept incriminating emails in their inboxes, spam or trash folders. The smarter ones, who actually deleted their skeletons, didn’t realize that it took a sweep of one program to retrieve that information. I could access everything from search history to deleted pictures on this thing, if I wanted to.
The email client opened, and I started scrolling through the inbox. “Oh boy,” I whispered. “She didn’t hide anything.”
“Good for us. Not so much for her,” Gamma whispered.
There were countless emails, documenting arguments with her parents, her insistence on getting paid her allowance, and the building up of bills for everything from internet to pool services to the rent for her Jaguar.
I downloaded them all, inserted my thumb drive into the computer and copied them over. “We’re golden,” I whispered. “I’ve got all the proof I need she was in financial trouble. The only thing we don’t have is a confession.”
“We’ll get that tomorrow,” Gamma joked. Or at least I thought it was a joke. “Get out of there.”
I exited the email client, left the computer exactly as I’d found it, and headed for the exit. A door slammed downstairs and voices traveled up from the foyer.
“Switch off the jammer,” Gamma whispered. “Quick.”
I released the switch on the side, returning the alarm to its normal functionality. The blipping of someone entering the code came from downstairs. I sneaked to the door and peered out of the crack into the now well-lit entry hall.
My stomach sank.
Abigail was home. And she wasn’t alone.
31
Abigail held a knife in front of her, directing it at the man who’d come with her. Or rather, been forced to come with her. It was Sebastian Tombs, and he no longer had the swagger of John Travolta nor the charm of a snake oil salesman.
His chin wobbled and he took several steps away from her. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.
“Record it, Charlie,” Gamma whispered in my ear.
I brought out a cassette recorder from one of the pockets on my belt and hit the button on the side, holding it toward the gap in the door.
“Please.” Sebastian clasped his hands together in front of himself. “Please, Abigail. I haven’t done anything to you. I—”
“I know you were cheating on me.” Her face was a mask of anger. There was no beauty left in her. “I’m not stupid.”
“That’s what this is about?” Sebastian asked. “Baby, I would never. I could never cheat on you.”
That’s right, Sebastian, when in doubt, lie your butt off. That will work with the crazy psycho-lady wielding a knife.
“Liar!” Predictably, Abigail lunged at him, swishing the knife.
Unpredictably, Sebastian fell to the floor and curled into a ball. “Please, no. No!”
“You’re pathetic,” she said. “You have no backbone. Even Matthew had more of a spine than you and he was into comics, for Pete’s sake.”
“Who’s Pete?”
“Shut up!” Abigail snapped. “I didn’t bring you here because I care that you cheated on me with my own idiot best friend. You’re here because I want money. Your father’s money.”
Sebastian lifted his head out of the armadillo ball he’d made. “M-money?”
“Yes, m-money,” she replied, mocking him. “Of course, money. That’s what makes the world go round.”
“But you have plenty of it. You live here. Your parents—”
“My parents are cheap.” Abigail circled so that her back was to me and she could hover over Sebastian, exerting her dominance. Or maybe she just wanted him in easy knifing range. “They cut me off and gave everything to my sister instead. You’re going to get me my money, or I’m going to do to you what I did to her.”
“Y-you k-killed Ha-Ha-Ha—”
“Hannah! Get there faster! I killed Hannah. I killed Hannah.” The bragging tone was both sickening and intriguing. She’d just given me exactly what I needed. A confession. “And I’ll kill you too if you don’t play along.”
“W-why?”
“Why did I kill her? Because they signed everything over to her. She was going to get it, so I went to see her and convinced her to put me in her will,” Abigail said, and spat on the floor, charming woman that she was. “But neither of us knew that our parents had already thought of that. All her money went into a trust fund after her death. To be given to charity!”
Sebastian had lost the will to talk, apparently, poor guy.
“So, I have nothing. I killed my sister. And the only smart guy I had on my side, my real boyfriend, Matthew, is behind bars because I broke up with him.”
Well, I need to eat my words. Matthew was her boyfriend at one point.
“P-please, don’t hurt me.”
“Maybe I’ll kill you now. Use your death as leverage to get what I want out of your rich father. That sounds good to me.”
I clicked off the recording, stowed the device and slipped out of the room. I sailed down the stairs, absolutely silent.
“Hold still while I stab you,” Abigail said.
I stepped up beside her, looped my arm around her throat and tightened it, cutting off her airflow. My other hand went down to her wrist. I twisted it until she released the knife. She tensed and gargled against my grip, but her fight soon waned. She passed out.
I lowered her to the floor. Sebastian was still in armadillo mode.
“There’s rope in the backpack,” Gamma said.
I let it down from my shoulder, opened it, and removed the rope. I tied up Abigail’s arms and legs then moved over to Sebastian.
He opened one eye and peeked up at my balaclava-covered face. He shrieked. “No! Please! I didn’t do any—”
I grabbed a scarf from the coat rack in the corner and shoved it into his mouth, unceremoniously. He was surprisingly compliant as I tied him up too.
“Good work, Charlie. You’ve done it.”
I didn’t talk in case Sebastian recognized my voice. Instead, I removed the cassette from my recorder and placed it on the floor in between Abigail—still out cold—and terrified, rapidly drawing nearer to wetting himself Sebastian. I grabbed one of the cards off the table and scribbled a note on the back of it.
Listen to me. That went on the tape.
One final glance ensured I’d left nothing behind. I walked to the alarm pad, hit the panic button then left, the alarm shrieking in my ears.
Now, the only thing I had to worry about was getting scraped up the inside of the wall by that grapple gun.
32
One month later…
“I’ve figured it out.” Gamma nudged my arm with her elbow.
We stood in front of the inn on its opening day—a banner hung across the front of the old building, announ
cing it in bright red print. The construction on the kitty foster center had ended. All that was left was for us to go to Gossip Cat Rescue Shelter tomorrow and register to care for the kitties.
Cocoa Puff meowed from the porch between cleaning his fluffy black chest. The sun was out, peaking from between the clouds and hiding its face again. The air had spring’s first bite to it, but it was a nice day, and everything had worked out.
Abigail had been locked up. Sebastian had returned to Grayson and been chided. The inn had about twenty new guests due to arrive today and tomorrow. And the tabloids hadn’t put anything online about Gamma—they hadn’t had the time because the arrest had come so soon after the initial search of the inn.
And my grandmother had received an apology from Detective Crowley himself.
All was well.
Apart from the fact that Kyle hadn’t been tracked down, and that I was still here. Stuck here. With Smulder.
“Charlotte,” Gamma said. “Did you hear me?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve figured out how my fingerprints wound up on the murder weapon.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been bothering me for a month, now,” Gamma said, shaking her head and folding her arms over her Gossip Inn apron. “So, the knife wasn’t a knife, we know that. It was a letter opener. One of my letter openers.”
“Right?”
“But I don’t remember every giving Grayson a letter opener. Until I went through my daily planner and found a meeting I’d scheduled at the Hungry Steer. Lauren I went to eat and discuss the menu. She had a letter from a friend, and I just so happened to have a letter opener with me in my tote.” Gamma shook her head. “I must have left the blasted letter opener on the table. Either Grayson picked it up and Abigail stole it from him, or she was there herself and took it. Maybe, she planned on pinning it on me all along.”
“I didn’t take her for a mastermind.”
“Hmm. Well, she did get that Matthew Davis to mess up the surveillance system for her.”
Smulder trudged out of the inn and onto the porch, wiping his hands on a rag, and our conversation died down. He still had no idea what we’d done to solve the case, and he didn’t need to know. Of course, he had his suspicions, but our lips were sealed.
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