Page 6

SIX

When I finished helping Lizzie with my duties at the festival, it was quite late in the afternoon. Talking to the headmaster would have to wait until another day. Lizzie and I were on the way home from the bookstore to change for the awards dinner, when her phone dinged.

She sighed.

“What is it?”

“The caterer is threatening to quit,” she said.

“What’s wrong?”

“He says Sebrena is demanding changes with the desserts. She wants James’s favorite pudding served instead of the cake we’d decided on.”

“She has no say, right? Just tell him to ignore her.”

“I did. But she’s standing over him, and he’s threatening to leave. Dinner service begins in an hour. What am I going to do?”

“You go change. I’ll see what I can do,” I offered.

“It’s my responsibility.”

“Yes, but I speak literary agent.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded, already walking away.

I loved and protected my sister, and I would do anything to make sure she had the least amount of stress possible. However, it was her idea to join the festival committee. And the whole affair had been nothing but stress.

The awards dinner was at the community center across from the church at the top of the hill.

I had no idea why Sebrena thought she should have any sort of say on the menu that the committee had decided upon.

By the time I made it up the hill, I had to pause to catch my breath. The screaming coming from the back of the community center was difficult to ignore.

“Look, you harpy, get out of here, or I’ll call the police,” a male voice said.

Oh . My .

I went around the back and found a man in a chef’s hat and apron pointing a finger at Sebrena.

“You’re just being difficult because you’re still jealous,” she said.

He scoffed. “Trust me. I was over you the second you walked out the door and into the arms of that no-talent hack.”

Wait. Had Sebrena and the chef been a couple? And was he now talking about James? I stepped back around the corner so they couldn’t see me.

“Right. That’s why you stalked me for a year.”

“I’ve told you a million times I’d been hired to work that party. I wasn’t stalking you. But none of that matters. You believe what you want. But you have no say in the menu the festival committee decided on.”

“You just don’t want to change things because it’s me.”

He grumbled something I couldn’t hear. “Again, you have no say. Dinner service begins soon. Even if I had the necessary ingredients for your stupid pudding, there isn’t time to make it. Go away.”

“I won’t. James deserves your respect. He was your friend.”

The chef made a strange sound. “You’ve got to be kidding. I owed that man nothing. You, better than anyone must understand that. I heard he was threatening to leave your agency. You probably killed him so you could keep those gold-digging nails in his money.”

“How dare you.” She raised her hand to slap him, and I quickly stepped forward.

“Sebrena, I need to speak with you.”

She bristled but turned. When she saw it was me, her frown turned into the fakest smile I’d ever seen.

“Yes? How can I help you, Ms. McCarthy.”

“We thought it might be nice if I said a few words about James before the awards tonight. I was hoping you could help me with that.”

“I—uh.” She turned to speak to the chef, but he’d taken the distraction as an opportunity to sneak back inside. Smart man. Though their argument did make me wonder about their past.

Had he been talking about James when he mentioned the no-talent hack?

“Certainly. What do you need to know? Or it might be best if I were the one to say something, since I knew him best.”

I nodded. “Right, though you spoke at the memorial, and everyone thought you might need a break. It’s been a very emotional twenty-four hours for you.”

She sighed and put the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic fashion. “That is true.”

“It must be such a traumatic time for you, since you and the victim were together.”

She waved a hand. “Oh, that was years ago. We hadn’t been lovers for years. But I did leave my husband Patrick for James. I don’t think he’ll ever get over it. All I wanted was for him to make a special pudding to honor James, but he refused.”

Husband. I hadn’t expected that.

“I’m certain the committee insists on being very strict with the menu since they are serving so many,” I said calmly. “You know, with all the dietary restrictions of the attendees.”

The lies were rolling off my tongue. But I’d promised to take care of this for my sister.

“Still. There’s time for adjustments,” she said.

“Perhaps, like I mentioned, it would be better to honor him with words, since that was his thing.”

She cocked her head. “That does make sense. Besides, Patrick is still so jealous there’s no getting through to him.”

Was he, though?

As mean as it might have sounded, I would have thought he dodged a bullet where Sebrena was concerned. The audacity that she could change the menu when she had nothing to do with the festival spoke loads to the type of woman she was.

However, jealousy was one of the main reasons for murder, and I didn’t know Chef Patrick. Maybe he did still hold a torch for her. That gave me two strong suspects for my list.

But was that torch burning bright enough to commit murder?

“How long were you and Patrick married?”

“Almost three years,” she said.

“That’s a long time.”

“There was a time when I thought he was the one. But his career was always more important than anyone in his life. That hasn’t changed. He pretended to be heartbroken when I left him for James, but it was just because he was mad he’d lost one of his possessions. That was how he saw me.”

Interesting .

She glanced at her phone worriedly.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s just the press,” she said. “The publisher has asked that all comments go through them. They weren’t happy I spoke at his memorial this morning—as if they could tell me what to do. I was his agent and his closest friend.”

“Did James have any enemies?”

We’d been walking toward Main Street, and she paused. “What do you mean?”

“Was there anyone who might have wanted to cause him harm?”

She stared at me like I was crazy. “It was an accident, a terrible one. Why would you ask something like that?”

“Accidents could be staged,” I said honestly.

“Wait. Do you think someone killed him? Impossible. He was a beloved author. I won’t have you saying anything different about him.”

“Oh, I’m not.” I was. “I just want to ensure the police have covered all the bases.”

“You mystery authors always think the worst,” she said. “I suppose that is what makes you so good at your job.”

I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”

“As for enemies, he had a few. As I said, he was beloved by his fans. But sure, other authors were jealous of his success. You know how it is.”

Most authors I knew were supportive, even the curmudgeonly ones I hung out with when I lived in Manhattan. It took a bit to earn their respect, but none of them had ever been as rude as James.

“Is there anyone in particular you’d say might have had it in for him?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, it was an accident. Why create drama where there is none?”

That was exactly what I would have said if I’d been the one to kill him. But what would have been her motive? Wasn’t he worth more to her alive? Besides, that bookcase had been heavy, and she was a tiny woman.

Still, if he’d treated others the way he’d acted with my sister and me, he would have had more enemies than friends.

Then I remembered what he’d said about Sebrena having her claws in his finances. Maybe he’d been ready to make a move, and she put a stop to it. If he’d been poisoned, she could have done that.

Perhaps he was delirious from whatever poison she’d used, and accidentally pulled the bookcase down on himself.

No matter what she said, she was my number one suspect. No one else had been that close to James. I put Chef Patrick on there as well. Maybe he hadn’t been as over their relationship as he’d claimed.

We sat at a table in the lobby of the cozy B&B where she was staying. I took some notes about his career from her—none of which I planned to use. I’d already texted my sister and told her I needed to give a small speech to cover my tracks.

Lizzie had texted back and said it was actually a good idea and would let the others know. I think she was just grateful I’d been able to pull Sebrena away from Chef Patrick.

As I took notes, my mind whirled. Could I be seated in front of a killer? She didn’t seem the type to murder someone, but I would never be one to judge a book by its cover.

If James had been as problematic in the past as he had been at the festival, he probably had a trail of enemies. I wasn’t the only author to have stalkers. Though, I’d hoped the worst of mine had stayed behind in New York. And so far, that person hadn’t tried to hurt me—yet.

Maybe James had stalkers as well, and one of those enemies may have killed him.