Page 9

NINE

After my reading, I had time to run by the station. Kieran had offered to let me look at the manuscript and I hoped he’d let me make a copy, so I didn’t have to sit in the station to read it.

Main Street was crowded with visitors, and it was strange to see so many people in our small town. When we’d first arrived, it had been off season and wintry. Even though spring had arrived, it was chilly. But the masses of literary attendees made it appear like we’d been invaded in the middle of summer.

While I understood we were doing a great thing for literature, I preferred the quiet of our quaint little town.

It was funny how I’d already come to think of this place as home.

Sheila was on the phone at the front desk. “Hold, please,” she said to the person on the line. She pointed to the back. “He’s expecting you.” She returned her attention to the phone. I wanted to ask her questions regarding what the mayor said.

If she had dated James, wouldn’t that have been a conflict of interest if she was helping with the investigation?

Since Sheila was on the phone, I’d have to talk to her later.

I headed down the hallway to Kieran’s office.

He, too, was on the phone, but he motioned for me to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Like the rest of the buildings in Shamrock Cove, the police station was a couple hundred, maybe more, years old. The thatched cottage with bright floral wallpaper throughout wasn’t like any law enforcement headquarters I’d ever been in. I’d been in plenty of precincts to do research. None had ever been what I’d call quaint or pretty, but the one here in Shamrock Cove was exactly that.

“Right, but can you tell me what kind of poison?”

He frowned.

“But when will you know? And could the hematoma have been caused by the falling bookcase? Right. Again, how much longer?” He sounded frustrated.

When he hung up, he sighed.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“The postmortem is taking forever. They are understaffed in Dublin, and while they’d never admit it, outsiders like us are last in line.”

“But James was quite famous. Not that that should matter, but at home it would. Celebrity puts people ahead.”

“It’s the same here. I have the mayor and my superiors in Dublin throwing questions right and left. They want the case tied up quickly. Which is why they’ve at least done part of the toxicology, but they still haven’t narrowed down what type of poison it was. Every time I ask, it’s another twenty-four hours.”

“Do they at least know how he ingested it? Was it in the tea we saw on the table?”

“They can’t say yet.” He sighed and changed the subject. “Tell me what you’ve learned so far.”

“Really?” This was quite the change. He normally didn’t like my poking about. He claimed it was for my safety, but I wasn’t always certain about that.

“Yes. You’re good at looking at cases from a different angle than we might.”

I think that might have been a compliment, but I wasn’t about to say anything about it.

“Right. I’ve chatted with a few people. Like I told you last night, my time with Brandt was limited to the few events we did together at the festival.”

“Okay. What can you tell me so far?”

“I believe there was a chance he was going to fire Sebrena as his agent. I have nothing to confirm this except what he said during our panels; that she had her claws in everything. He didn’t seem very happy with her, though I’m not sure he understood the word happy.”

Kieran nodded for me to continue.

I appreciated that he was taking me seriously.

“He also had a reputation for stealing women from other men.” I told him about Sebrena and the chef who had been making our meals. And what I’d learned from the mayor.

“Did you know the mayor used to date Sheila?” I whispered the words so she wouldn’t hear.

He laughed hard.

“What? It’s true.”

“I know it is. It was your face and the whisper. She didn’t kill him. She was here at the station with me during the suspected murder window.”

That was a relief. Not that I thought Sheila could do anything like that. I’d always liked her forthrightness and friendly demeanor.

“That said, they all had motive to murder him. He made a habit of stealing women from other men as if it were some game.”

“But that was years ago,” he said.

“Correct. But those are only the angry exes we know about. And it might have nothing to do with any of them. That’s why I’m here to see the manuscript. I was hoping you might allow me to make a copy so I can read it at home.”

“Did you not get enough pictures when you were here?”

I blinked. How did he know? My throat dried and I probably had a deer in the headlight look. “What?”

He pointed his pen toward the ceiling, where there was a camera.

Oops . I’d missed that new addition.

“After the last time you broke into my office, I put a camera in to see what you were doing.”

I bit my lip. Well, that’s embarrassing . I’d been caught red-handed.

“Right. Have I mentioned how curious I am about things? It gets me into trouble all the time. But I didn’t break in so much as make excuses so I could look into what you’d discovered so far.”

“That’s why I’m including you in the investigation. Hopefully, if I know what you are doing, I can keep you safe.” His voice was kind, as if he really was worried about looking after me. An unfamiliar warmth spread through my chest. While my sister and mom had always looked out for me, it was different to have a man, especially one as handsome as Kieran, who cared.

Still, I didn’t want to make too much of it. He just didn’t want to have to investigate another murder because I’d stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.

“Thanks. So, cards on the table. James was a bright man. I can’t see him pulling a bookcase down on himself, accident or otherwise. The teacups and teapot were still on the table, and we had two manuscripts. One was for a book that is about to come out. And the other was written on a typewriter years ago. I’d say close to twenty from the color and type of paper.”

“Again, how do you know that last bit?”

I shrugged. “I keep a hard copy of all my manuscripts. I just moved them into special boxes to help protect the paper before we moved here, so I remember seeing the paper from that time. There are tests your forensic folks can run to see for sure. I wondered if the older manuscript might have been something he wrote when he was younger. But why were they both on the table? I want to compare them.”

“Do you think he plagiarized from someone? That could be a good motive.”

I shrugged. “I wondered that and I read a few articles about court cases in which he was involved for plagiarism. But he’d won.”

“Aye, we’re looking into those who brought the cases against him.”

“That’s smart. Any time a writer’s ego is involved, you never know how someone might react.

“I only had a chance to look at a few pages,” I said. “I didn’t see anything that would make me think that it was stolen. From the little I saw, it didn’t even read like his writing. Even if it had been done years ago. But I need to read them through side by side.”

He put two boxes of paper on his desk. “We made you copies. I cannot stress how much I need you to keep these under wraps. It would be my job if it was known we let evidence out of the building.”

Part of me was secretly pleased that he knew me so well, and the other part was happy that, after all, he really did trust me.

“I am the soul of discretion.”

He cocked his head. “You don’t even share these with your sister. If I find out you’ve been telling the court about the investigation, I’ll lock you out for good.”

“Understood,” I said. “I know Sheila didn’t kill him, but have you spoken to her about him?” I had lowered my voice again when I said her name.

His eyes widened. “I told you. She was here at the station. You don’t think one of my officers killed him, do you?”

I held up my hand. “No. I like Sheila, I just thought she might be able to give us some insight into the past. I feel like I’m missing a big piece of the puzzle from when he lived here. Everyone seems to have lost touch with him, and he seemed embarrassed that he’d come from such small-town life.

“So, why did he finally give in and come back to a town he was embarrassed about? Several people told me they’d been asking him to return for years. So why now? What changed? Maybe Sheila might have some insight.”

“But I don’t,” she said from the doorway. “And I did not kill him.”

I had a habit of sticking my foot into my mouth lately.

I attempted to swiftly backpedal. “Oh, I didn’t think you did. But you knew him when he was younger, and you’re a law officer. You have a different perspective, and I was hoping for some insight. Did you meet him at school?”

“I was a year below his crowd,” she said. “But half the girls in the school wanted to date him.”

“So how did you meet?”

“He was my maths tutor. You know how they say writers don’t always do math? He did. He was brilliant and quite beautiful when he was younger. And he was kind to me. Unlike everyone else around me, he didn’t make me feel dumb.”

I was surprised to hear he was kind to her.

“When did you start dating?”

“Around my seventeenth birthday, but only for a month or so. It was embarrassing when he broke it off, and I had to find a new tutor. I’m still not great at maths, but he helped me to pass.”

“Were you upset?”

“By the end, it was almost a relief to break up. I just didn’t fit in with that crowd; I’d been dating the mayor before James, you see. The looks he gave us—well, I was just uncomfortable. I was such a babe, back then. When he lost interest, he didn’t say anything about breaking up. He just ignored me completely. I wouldn’t allow a man to ignore me like that now.”

“Can you tell us about his inner circle? The mayor and the others.”

She pursed her lips. “The only time they were all together when I was around was during football matches. Like I said, they did not bother with me much. I was just another girl James was dating. At first, James made fun of the mayor that he couldn’t hold on to his women, which made him angry. They said a few words in my presence. But they were still friends long after we broke up.”

“Was there anyone in that group you think might want to kill him?”

She shrugged. “I’m sure you’ve heard I wasn’t the only girl he’d taken from another man. He did it so often everyone thought it was a game and that it was expected. I didn’t realize then how I was being used as a part of his ego trip.”

“Was he working on a manuscript in high school?”

She nodded. “He told me about a book he was working on back then. But it was so long ago, I can’t tell you what it was about. He said it was fiction based on a true story about a girl their age who had gone missing. That’s all I remember.”

I glanced from her to Kieran.

Was the older manuscript the key to a mystery? One that someone didn’t want others to find out about? And if it was based on a true story, who had gone missing?

“Is there anyone you think might have wanted him dead?”

Sheila ran a hand through her hair. “After we broke up, I avoided him and his friends. If I saw him, he usually had his arm wrapped around a new girl.

“He could be cruel. I remember people being genuinely afraid of him. Even then, he used words powerfully.”

“Was there anyone specifically you can think of that he may have hurt in some way?”

“You’d be looking at a third of the people in secondary. That said, we’re talking years ago. We’ve all grown up, and most of those people have moved away.”

“That’s why we should focus on the people in his inner circle now,” Kieran said. “And his fans. I was looking through some of the comments on his latest book. It seems the reviews weren’t as kind as those in the past.”

“I’d noticed the same thing when I checked out a few sites last night,” I said. “But if fans killed writers for bad books, there would be a lot more murders.”

“Yes, from what his agent told me, though, he had received some rather disturbing emails and letters over the last year,” Kieran said. “Some of the emails came with threats.”

“Do you have access to those yet?”

“No,” Sheila answered. “We’re working with the provider in Dublin. Can’t you hack them like you did the judge’s?”

“Not without his laptop. Did you find it?”

Kieran cleared his throat. “Yes. It was at the cottage. Let’s try to go through proper channels first. We have a few the agent forwarded on to us. I made some copies of those for you, as well.”

So, James did have his laptop with him. Kieran handed me that pile of papers. It was odd that he was being so forthcoming. “Like I said, we’ve made copies of what we have so far for you.”

I shook my head. “Why are you being so nice?”

He smirked. “As I said before, if we share information, perhaps you won’t find yourself in dangerous situations where you almost die.”

The last time that happened, I’d saved his life, but I wasn’t going to remind him of that.

“Well, thanks. I’ll take a look at all of this.” My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. It was my alarm for an event at the library. “I’m headed to the library. But I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

I got up to leave.

“Mercy?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Please, be careful. Leave the footwork to us. While I appreciate your help with the background on the case, there is no reason to put yourself in danger.”

“I hear you, Detective Inspector.”

Before heading to the library, I dumped the manuscripts on my desk at home, and then locked my office door. I wasn’t hauling them around all day.

My phone buzzed. My editor Carrie’s name came up.

“I’m going to make the deadline,” I answered the question I knew was coming.

“Well, hello to you,” she said. “But that isn’t why I was calling. Did you murder James Brandt?”

I coughed. “What?”

“It’s all over social media. Haven’t you seen it? Can’t say it has hurt your sales. In fact, numbers are up. But do I need to get you a good lawyer? And why are you always connected to dead people over there?”

“I was hoping, since this is such a small festival, no one would know we found the body.”

“Oh, Mercy. When will you learn? Social media makes even the smallest place a hub for rumors.”

“You can let everyone know at the publishing house that I didn’t kill him. We did find the body, though. Why? What does it say on social media?”

“That you murdered him with a bookshelf. Quite clever, really. I never met the man, but I saw what he said to you online during the panels. I don’t blame you, if you did kill him.”

“Well, while I might have thought about killing him, it wasn’t me.”

“Why does this keep happening? You being the one to find dead bodies, that is? Again, not that it hurts your sales. It makes your fans even more curious about you. In fact, you made national news over here.”

National news? Oh. My .

I sighed. “Just lucky, I guess. At least, this time the detective doesn’t think I did it.”

She laughed. “Is that the detective hottie?”

“Hottie? Have you been talking to Lizzie?”

“I’m guilty of texting her to see how the festival was going. She said you had the biggest turnouts. Good on you.”

“You could just text me. Or were you asking her if I really was working on the book that I owe you in a month?”

“Oh, look at that. I have another call coming in. Love to you both. Stay out of jail. You need to finish your book.” She hung up.

I was torn between wanting to laugh and feeling annoyed after Carrie’s call. For me, social media was a necessary evil. It was how one sold books these days. I pulled up a couple of sites on my phone, and sure enough, an older picture of me was plastered all over the place with the headline: Killer Writer?

Great. This made it even more imperative I find the real murderer.

Before I left the house, I made sure everything was locked. One couldn’t be too careful.

Then I headed out for a very busy day.

Later that night, I was at the store with Lizzie. We were cleaning up after the last signing of the day. Both of us were exhausted. I was the cliché introverted writer. Talking to fans and being in the public eye did not come naturally. It was something I’d learned to do through the years.

But it still wore me out mentally and physically. When I’d volunteered to do so many panels and readings to help the festival, I hadn’t remembered what being out among the public did to my psyche. And meanwhile Lizzie had been rushed off her feet.

We were both very much ready for a long rest.

We were headed out the back door, and Lizzie called for Mr. Poe. But he refused to follow us; he sat in front of the cupboard that had a hidden door in the back. The door at the back of the cabinet opened into a storage area under the stairs.

“Come on, boy,” she called. He was a very smart little dog, and Lizzie and I had fallen for him at first glance. He spent almost every day here with her.

He pawed the door and whined.

“He’s been doing that all evening,” she said. “Do you think we have mice?”

“I hope not. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to call an exterminator.”

“I’m not a huge fan of vermin.”

“I don’t think most people are,” I said.

I went to scoop up the tiny black dog, but he wiggled out of my arms and barked.

“Maybe I should check,” I said.

She pushed past me and grabbed something out of her office.

“Here.” She handed me a long umbrella with a pointy ferrule. “Just in case it is a mouse, and you have to shoo it away.”

Oh great .

I opened the cupboard doors and stepped inside. When I pushed hard, the back panel opened. I reached around on the wall for the light. Then I stepped inside, but I had to squeeze through.

A foot blocked the door.

“Oh. My.”

“Is it a rat? Don’t let it run out.”

“No. It isn’t a rat. But I need you to call 999—again.” I stepped carefully around the body on the floor. I knelt and then put my fingers on where there should have been a pulse. There wasn’t one.

“Is that Sebrena?” Lizzie asked.

“It is,” I replied.

And she was quite dead.