“You might be wrong,” Ivy said, on their frantic drive to the Whispering House.
“I could be,” Tempest admitted. “But let’s make sure Gideon is safe first. Then we’ll figure that out.”
“Why would Lenore want to kill Julian?”
“If you had a neighbor like Julian,” said Tempest, “wouldn’t you want to kill him?”
“Good point.”
“We already know he tried to bully Lenore so she wouldn’t work with Secret Staircase Construction, because he didn’t want competition for having a unique house. I can imagine him doing any number of other things that would have made her hate him even before that.”
“What about Brodie’s death?”
“Brodie figured it out.” The tires shrieked as she rounded a corner. “Nicodemus told me about Brodie’s history with blackmail.”
“Really? Nicodemus knew that about him but kept working with him?”
“It’s complicated. But what I can’t figure out is why she framed Paloma, and why the files are missing that relate to both my aunt’s death and mom’s disappearance. I really thought everything was connected. Lenore is connected to the theater, so she could have been involved in my mom’s disappearance. But my aunt’s supposedly accidental death in Edinburgh more than ten years ago? That’s the piece that doesn’t fit.”
“In other words, you’re not certain enough about Lenore to let me call the police.”
Tempest stole a glance at Ivy, who was pouting. “Partly. But mainly it’s because I don’t want anything to happen to Gideon.” She gripped the steering wheel more tightly. If anything happened to him … She didn’t want to lose him. Not like this. “No police sirens. You and I are simply coming to work. If the police show up with their sirens…” She didn’t want to think about what might happen to Gideon.
“So we’ll show up acting normal,” said Ivy.
“Exactly. Then we’ll make an excuse, and the three of us will leave together. Then we’ll call the police.”
Ivy’s eyes went wide, but not in response to Tempest’s words. She was looking at her phone.
“What’s gone wrong now?” Tempest asked.
“Sanjay has sent me at least ten text messages in the last five minutes.”
“That man has no patience.”
“He’s worried about you.”
“Can you text him back to let him know I’m okay?” Tempest felt marginally bad she hadn’t thought to get in touch. But he was busy with his shows.
“Already done. He wants to know where you are. He just landed at SFO. He’s done with his shows for the week.”
“Tell him I’m on my way to catch a killer. No, on second thought, you’d better not.”
When they reached the Whispering House, Tempest had to use all her self-control to drive slowly enough on the street so the tires didn’t screech as she came to a stop and arouse suspicion.
Inside, they found three people sitting around a laptop, their eyes transfixed by the screen. They were all watching a replay of a shaky cell phone video of Tempest’s pop-up. Lenore, Gideon—and Officer Quinn. The three of them turned when Tempest and Ivy entered.
Surely Lenore wouldn’t do anything rash with Officer Quinn there, but Tempest’s relief was tempered by the fact that he might be there looking for her.
“You here for me?” Tempest asked him.
“You’re not under arrest, but we do have some questions. If you could come with me—”
“Do you need a lawyer?” Lenore asked. “I can recommend someone. She’s not cheap, but if you’re in trouble—”
“I have someone. And I do want to talk to Rinehart. But first, could you indulge me for just a couple of minutes? I need to ask Lenore something.”
Quinn hesitated, then gave a nod.
“Thank you.” Tempest extended her right hand to shake his hand.
The handshake was, of course, only to disguise the note that she had slipped him. She hoped he’d understand he should read it out of sight of the others. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he felt the folded paper she had pressed into his palm.
“I really do appreciate it,” Tempest added, her hand still in his. She tapped her middle finger against the note, then folded his hand as she let go. It could have been an awkward gesture, and indeed it should have been, but she’d practiced enough with members of her audience that it now worked smoothly. The whole exchange took less than five seconds.
“What did you want to ask me?” Lenore closed the laptop screen and faced Tempest.
“What was in the rat’s nest findings that you wanted to keep from us?”
Lenore pursed her lips. “This whole mess with Julian Rhodes made me realize that private things are best kept private. Things can be taken out of context and used against people.”
“But he’s dead,” said Tempest. “And you admitted to me that the world was better off without him.”
She shrugged. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way. And I didn’t say it had to do with Julian. Only that everything going on has made me realize I’m far too open a person. I simply thought better of sharing personal things publicly.”
“So you’ll show us the findings if it doesn’t go beyond this room?”
Lenore blinked at Tempest. “Why would I do that?”
“Because this is a murder investigation,” Officer Quinn said.
Lenore gaped at him. “Which has nothing to do with me!”
“Then why don’t you show us whatever was found inside the wall?”
“You have to understand what this house means to me,” said Lenore. “After my husband, Frank, died, I realized how important family history was. I needed something to throw myself into. I wanted this house to be both a legacy to my family history and to be filled with happy memories from my life with Frank. Like the safe you’re building, Tempest. That’s for me to look at one of the things my Frank gave me. I got the house into the shape it was when I first met you, and then I decided it needed help with the magical touches that Chester originally intended.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you own the theater as well?” Tempest asked. She was guessing, but Lenore had held information back from them, so it wasn’t a stretch.
Lenore’s mouth dropped open. “Because I don’t. This house is the only thing of Chester’s I own. My brother and his family own another of the houses he built, but my family sold off the theater generations ago.”
“But you know about the Shadow Stage.”
“Of course. Because of my connection to it, I followed its journey—including the rumors. But after it was rediscovered more publicly five years ago, I doubt I know more about it than you do at this point.”
“What do you know about my mom’s disappearance?” Tempest tried to speak the question forcefully, but it came out as barely more than a whisper.
“Nothing! Why would I know anything about that?”
“How did you manage Brodie’s body?” Ivy asked. “That’s the one that’s the most baffling. I mean, it’s like he materialized onto that old stage. There was no way for him to have gotten there.”
“You’ve all lost your minds,” said Lenore. “How would I know that? Officer, are you going to let them get away with this abuse?”
“Lenore Woods. Maybe it’s best if you were to come with me to the station.”
She blinked at him from behind her round glasses. “You can’t be serious.”
He looked like a frightened deer caught in headlights. “Um, please?”
Tempest leaned in. “I think you’d rather go with him than that Rinehart guy.”
Lenore glared at Tempest. “Don’t pretend to have my best interests in mind. You’re the one who brought this to his attention.”
“It’s only the truth,” said Gideon. “Why are you afraid of that?”
“Ivy,” Lenore seethed, “just accused me of murder.”
Ivy zipped her pink vest over half her face as she reddened. “I only asked a scientific question. Brodie’s body was found in an impossible situation on the Shadow Stage. I’m truly curious about how it was done.”
“Ms. Woods.” Officer Quinn spoke more forcefully this time, and Lenore must have noticed the change.
She grabbed her purse. “I’m calling my lawyer to meet us there.”
Quinn swallowed hard and nodded.
“He’s definitely not cut out for this line of work,” Tempest murmured as she, Ivy, and Gideon watched from the driveway as Lenore and Officer Quinn drove away. “He didn’t remember he was here to bring me in.”
“He never believed you were guilty,” Gideon said.
Tempest kept watch on the patrol car until it turned a corner, then sat down on the porch steps. “I was so sure of my theory in the abstract, since she’s a woman, she hated Julian, and she has the skills to make the booby traps and the opportunity to have set them. But she doesn’t have as strong a connection to the theater as I thought, and she didn’t tell us what was in the rat’s nest.”
“So we don’t know if it was something worth killing over,” said Ivy.
“I don’t understand why she wouldn’t tell us what was in there,” Tempest grumbled.
“You two came to rescue me,” said Gideon, “but now you don’t think I needed rescuing?”
“If Julian was the only person killed, it would make more sense for her to have done it. Even Brodie as well, since he could have known something. There has to be a reason for the strange setup of their deaths. As an architect, she absolutely would understand how to build a spring-loaded booby trap into a wooden door, but why would she kill them at the theater?”
“Nobody knew she was connected to it,” Ivy pointed out.
“It’s not really hidden. She’s not living under a false identity, and we already knew about her connection to Chester Hill.”
“Maybe it’s the opposite.” Gideon picked up a small, smooth rock from the yard. “Maybe she picked the theater because she knew it so well. She could get in and out in ways that allowed her to kill people with booby traps, which she couldn’t do in some other random location.”
Tempest shook her head. “But that doesn’t tell us why she killed my mom.”
Ivy and Gideon exchanged a glance.
“What?” Tempest asked. “Why are you two looking at each other like that?”
“It might not be connected,” said Ivy.
“Of course it’s—” She broke off as Ivy and Gideon exchanged another glance. This one was one of pity. “You don’t believe me. I’m finally putting together the connections.”
“It’s not that we don’t believe you,” said Gideon. “But you might be too close to it to see clearly what’s really going on.”
“Fine.” Tempest jumped up from the porch step. “Ivy, you can get a ride from Gideon. I need some space to think.”
If even her friends didn’t believe her, where did that leave her? Were they right? Was she trying to force puzzle pieces together that didn’t fit?