Page 10

TEN

While the forensic team took over the bookstore, Kieran suggested Lizzie and I head home, but he made it clear that he would still need to speak to us. As we waited for him in our cottage, I made coffee while my sister baked a cherry pie. The recipe was our mother’s, and we only ate it when things were not going our way.

Lizzie loved baking.

I had no idea how to even turn our oven on. Though, what I understood so far about the Aga was that it stayed on all the time and helped to heat our very cold kitchen.

I didn’t usually drink coffee after two in the afternoon unless I was on deadline. But I needed my brain cells revived. I’d just found a very dead Sebrena in the bookstore and would soon have to speak to Kieran about it.

“How did she end up in our storeroom?” I asked. “We’re the only ones who know about it, right?”

Lizzie shook her head. “It’s not a secret. Caro knows about it. And I had volunteers in and out of there this whole week. It’s where we kept most of the supplies for the signings and events. I don’t have much room in the office, and it was just easier to use that space to store everything.”

There was a knock on the front door. Lizzie leaned down to take the pie out of the oven, and I went to answer.

Kieran stood there, and his forehead was creased. I hadn’t known him long but well enough that I understood he was worried.

“How did she die?” I asked.

“We’ll have to wait for the postmortem, but there were no outward signs of trauma.”

“Her lips were blue, though,” I said. “Even in the dim light of the storeroom, I noticed that.”

“Aye.”

In the short time before the police had arrived, I’d taken a quick look around her and the scene. My investigation had been peripheral since I couldn’t touch anything, other than when I’d searched for a pulse.

“Do you think it was poison?”

He sighed. “Like I said, no idea. And I will be the one asking the questions.”

I bit my lip. “Right.” I refused to apologize for my curiosity. It was innate and why I’d succeeded as a mystery writer.

“I made you some coffee.”

A small smile lit his face. “I need it.” He shared my love for coffee and my specialty machine that made the closest thing to a barista’s version than any I’d ever tasted.

“Detective Inspector, let us know how we can help.” Mercy was cleaning some dishes she used for the pie.

I handed him the cup of coffee I’d just poured.

He sniffed it and closed his eyes. “Cortado?”

“Of course.” His favorite drink was something else we had in common.

“The pie will be ready soon,” Mercy said as she sat down. “It’s cooling.”

I handed her a cup of chamomile tea she’d requested.

Mr. Poe sat by her chair. She scooped him up and held him against her chest. The strain of what had happened was evident in her eyes. She closed them and then breathed deeply.

The stress on her face pulled at my heartstrings. I would do anything to protect her from more pain. She’d been through far too much over the past year. But I couldn’t put her in bubble wrap.

And we did have a bad habit of finding dead bodies.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Kieran said to me. “How did you find the deceased?”

“Mr. Poe,” I said.

Kieran raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“We were trying to leave the bookstore, but he refused. He kept pawing at the door to the hidden storage cupboard.”

“He’s a very smart boy,” Lizzie said into his fur. He snuggled closer to her. While I loved that ball of fur, and he loved me, Lizzie was his person. “We thought it was mice.”

Kieran appeared confused, but nodded.

“Mercy went to check, and that’s when…” Her voice trailed off, and she closed her eyes. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”

“When was the last time you each saw her?” he asked.

Lizzie took another deep breath.

“For me, it was yesterday during the signing for James,” I said.

“How did that work?” he asked. “He’s dead.”

“Yes, but according to Sebrena, he’d signed thousands of bookplates. We used those.”

“You said, according , like you didn’t believe his agent.”

Lizzie shot me a look.

“I thought she might have a few. Many of us sign bookplates for events and bloggers who are doing early reviews. But she said she had thousands that she gathered from James over the years.”

“So, you think she forged them?”

“I’m saying it’s a convenient possibility. She was quite aggressive when it came to sales and in continuing his legacy. You’ll need an expert to check the handwriting. I may have borrowed one of the bookplates for analysis.” I did finger quotes around borrowed.

“Mercy,” Lizzie said with disbelief.

I shrugged. “I would have never made it public. I’d never do anything to hurt our store. I was just curious if she was telling the truth.”

Kieran made a note in his book. “I’ll need that for evidence.”

“I’ll get it for you.” It was in my coat by the back door. I reached into the pocket and found it. Then I handed it over. He put it in an evidence bag he had in the pocket of his jacket and wrote on the outside.

“Did anything strange happen at the store during the signing?”

“Sebrena was behaving like she owned James’s work,” Lizzie said.

“She’s right,” I said. “The strangest thing was she held court like she’d written the book. We were just as confused as the fans. She even took selfies with them. You might want to look over the social media at the event for comments from the fans to gauge what they thought.

“It was honestly the weirdest book signing I’ve ever attended, and that is saying something.”

He wrote more in his notebook.

“What was your take on her?” he asked me.

“You won’t like me saying this, but Sebrena was my prime suspect right up until we found her dead.”

He frowned. “Why is that?”

“They dated for a while, you know,” I said. “You heard Sheila. James had a habit of dating women who were already in relationships.” I hated saying that. It didn’t make the women sound very strong or like they had a choice. “But then he ended it.”

But I wasn’t one to judge when it came to relationships. That area of my life had never been particularly successful. Made worse by the fact I’d been married to my career for most of my adult life.

“She didn’t seem that upset by his death,” Lizzie said. “Right after she found out, she threatened me if I sent any of his books back.”

“Were the bookplates her idea?” he asked.

I pursed my lips. “Not exactly,” I said. “I may have brought it up when I was trying to talk to her about James.”

“So, you were being nosy and that was your way into the conversation?”

“You say nosy, I say curious. It was a way to help my sister move those books. But I still find it suspicious that she’d gathered thousands of bookplates over the years. Especially given that we had strict instructions that James would only sign for one hour.”

He nodded. “Let’s get back to when you last saw the victim.”

“You said victim, so you do think she was killed. Why?”

He paused writing. “Like you noticed, the lips and eyes had a strange color.”

I wasn’t sure, as the storeroom had been fairly dark. And I’d tried not to disturb anything. But I had suspected it from the tinge of color around her lips.

“She came in a few times,” Lizzie said. “To make sure we were ready for the events involving James’s books. We’d sold out during the signing.” She glanced at me.

“What?” It seemed like she’d remembered something.

“I told her I had a few more copies coming in a few days. As you know, the shipments had been delayed last week. She said she’d leave behind some bookplates for those. We’d been really busy, so I asked her to leave them in the storeroom, so they didn’t get lost.”

“So, she was in the storeroom today?” Kieran asked.

Lizzie rubbed her temples. “My days are running together. But yes, I saw her in the store this afternoon.” Her eyes opened wide. “Oh.”

“What?”

“There was a man. His back was to me. But I saw her arguing with someone this afternoon.” She blinked. “Or was that yesterday? What is wrong with my brain?”

“It’s the shock,” Kieran said. His voice was gentle. I appreciated that he handled my sister with great kindness. She was still getting back on an even keel when it came to her emotions and nerves.

“Can you tell me anything about him?”

She blew out a breath. “I was in the back of the store, and they were near the front door. He had dark hair and wore a dark, long-sleeved T-shirt. But the sun was shining through the window, and they were in the glare. In fact, I don’t remember seeing her after that.”

“And you did see her go into the storeroom?”

“Well, like I said, that’s where we’d been keeping supplies. I motioned to where it was at the back of the store and told her about the hidden cupboard door. I was busy at the front. I must admit I didn’t see her go in there.”

She cleared her throat.

“Do you think that’s when she died? That was hours ago.” A tear slid down her cheek. “If we’d known, maybe we could have saved her life. I should have checked.”

I patted her hand. “Lizzie. Stop and breathe.”

She did as I asked.

“You are in no way responsible for what happened,” I said gently. “You heard Kieran. She’d most likely been poisoned like James. Stop tying yourself into knots.”

“I get that, but why didn’t she call out?”

“Her death could have been instantaneous once the poison worked through her system,” Kieran offered. He held up a hand. “I am in no way saying that is what happened. But it is a theory. It didn’t appear the body had been dragged or moved. So, she most likely died on the spot. Had she appeared ill in any way?”

She shook her head. “She was kind of strange to begin with when it came to the way she acted regarding James’s books. Maybe a tad neurotic. Everything had to be a certain way, and she was extremely picky. She was more demanding than all the other authors we’ve had combined. I hadn’t noticed her being ill at all. But I’d also been busy. We had a line out the door for most of the day. The store has been bustling during the festival, for which I’m grateful.”

“And you are certain you can’t describe the man you saw her arguing with at your store any further?”

“No. I’m sorry. I only glanced up from the signing table for a few seconds. We had another author there, but Sebrena hadn’t left yet. So, I was in the back of the first floor. They were by the front door and they were in a glare. The sun had come out for a few minutes. I just assumed she was talking to one of James’s fans. But the argument looked heated.”

“I see,” he said. “Are there security cameras in the store?”

“I’ve never thought we needed them,” she said. “My grandfather didn’t see the need. Nor do I.”

“We might want to look into them, though. Just for the future,” I said.

She sighed. “I like the fact that we don’t have to worry about crime here. But why do we keep finding dead bodies? It’s terrible.”

“Aye, it is,” Kieran said.

“You don’t suspect us, do you?” It was as if she’d just come to that realization, and her eyes went wide.

“No,” he said. “But it is odd that you are the ones finding the bodies.”

“Do you think someone is trying to set us up to take the blame?” I asked. That thought had just occurred to me.

“From what you said, they could not have known you would be the ones to show up at the cottage. In fact, my guess is they were trying to set up Sebrena. It was strange that she asked you two to go find him. I find her actions highly suspect. Except, now she’s dead.”

“So, you thought she killed him as well?”

“I don’t make assumptions,” he said. “However, the evidence was leaning in that direction. But now the lead suspect is dead. If it was poison, the killer may not have known how long it would take. It was most likely a coincidence she was in the storage room when she fell ill.”

“We have the worst luck,” Lizzie said. “I know that sounds callous. But, goodness, this is all so weird.”

“I agree with you,” I said.

“I need to make arrangements for the events for tomorrow,” Lizzie said. “I assume you’ll want me to keep the store closed.”

“No. That’s why forensics is in there tonight. They should have everything sorted by first thing tomorrow. I don’t see why you can’t open in the early afternoon.”

“Really?” That was surprising. “Is it because she was poisoned and probably just passed out and died back there? That’s why you don’t think we did it? If we’d killed her, we would have tried to hide the body somewhere else. And we certainly wouldn’t have called you.”

“Mercy.” My sister shook her head.

I waved a hand. “You know how my brain works,” I said as an excuse. Sometimes, my thoughts came out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. I talked to myself while I worked. Who was I kidding? I talked to myself all the time. I always had characters in my head chatting. Talking out loud was how I stayed sane. Though, I wasn’t always aware I was doing it.

“As a mystery writer, I hope you’d be cleverer.” He smiled, and something happened in the pit of my stomach.

I ignored it.

My sister snorted and then giggled.

“Do you think we’re looking at the same killer?” I asked. “I mean, I know you don’t like to assume anything, but the deaths are similar.”

“We will have to see what forensics and the evidence say,” he said. “As you know, I do not believe in coincidence. Someone wanted both of them gone.”

“We just have to figure out why, right?” I asked. “It always comes down to motive.”

“Correct. But I would like to remind you that is my job. I’m bringing you in as a consultant only. You are not to put yourself or Lizzie’s life in danger.”

“What he said.” Lizzie gave me the stink eye. “It’s bad enough she died in our store. The last thing I need is for you to put us in the crosshairs of a killer again.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be careful.” But it didn’t really matter what they said. I would still look for answers. My mind wouldn’t allow me to sit on the sidelines and wait for the detective to figure things out. I wasn’t made that way.

After eating a piece of pie and finishing his coffee, the detective headed back to the crime scene.

“While the good detective inspector may not think we killed these people, that doesn’t mean the rest of the town, and James’s fans, won’t,” I said. “The sooner we find out who did and can clear our names, the better.”

“Do you really think people blame us?” She sounded worried.

I shrugged. “We live in a small town, and as much as I’d like to say no, we’re still outsiders. Plus, I looked at social media this afternoon for the festival. Many of his fans think it’s odd we found his body. There are all kinds of conspiracy theories rolling around the internet.”

She gave me a stricken look.

“No one thinks you had anything to do with it. The bookstore will be fine. I seem to be taking the brunt of the criticism online.”

“I don’t care about the bookstore. I’m worried about you. This could be terrible for your name and career.”

I smiled. “Not according to Carrie. There are stories posted all over the internet that I killed James. It actually boosted my sales.”

She shook her head. “People are weird.”

“I don’t disagree. I’m going to take a look at the older manuscript I told you about. There is no name on it, and I’m curious if it really is one of James’s earlier works.”

“Do you need help?” She was exhausted, I could tell by the look in her eyes.

“No. It’s just a bit of reading.”

She yawned. “Okay, I’m going to bed. We have another long day tomorrow.”

I followed her to the stairs. She stopped and turned to me. And then she threw her arms around me. “I need a hug,” she said.

I hugged her hard for more than a minute. “Don’t worry,” I said. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“Someone is killing people and trying to make it look like we did it. So, it doesn’t feel like things will be okay.”

“Yes, but this time, the police don’t think we murdered anyone. That’s progress, right?”

She nodded.

“Get some sleep.”

“Don’t stay up too late. You have a writing workshop to teach first thing tomorrow at the library.”

Darn . I’d forgotten that. Even though she’d put reminders in my phone and on my office calendar.

“I won’t.”

Mr. Poe followed her up the stairs. He slept at the end of her bed every night. Since the day he’d arrived in our lives, it was as if he had made it his mission to take care of Lizzie.

I loved that about the little dude.

I lit a fire in my office and settled down at my grandfather’s large wooden desk. Lizzie once said the office had an Agatha Christie feel, and I didn’t disagree. It was the opposite of my modern office in New York, but I’d written many words already in this space, and I wasn’t about to change it.

I pulled the copy of the older manuscript out of the desk drawer where I’d locked it away. One couldn’t be too safe when protecting evidence. I’d learned that the hard way. Several months ago, I’d hidden a file folder with information about our grandfather in a cabinet under our bathroom sink, and a murderer had stolen it. The police believed she must have burned it. Whatever had been in that file was gone forever.

I’d been furious because the information had been about our grandfather. My sister and I were desperate to know more about him and our father. Every morsel of information helped us understand them better.

The manuscript did not have a title page. It just started with chapter one. The writing was definitely by a newbie. The point of view hopped around, and the novel rambled at the beginning with way too much backstory and description.

The missing girl didn’t show up until the end of chapter three. But that was when things became interesting.