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Chapter 10

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As much as Arden would have liked spending the day lying out by the pool and playing shuffleboard with her friends, she decided time would be better spent exploring the Cliff House. Reese’s insistence that Zeke was crazy and a killer disturbed her more than she would like to admit and the more she entertained the possibility that he was telling the truth, the more concerned she became. Concerned enough to end the shuffleboard game early and return to her room to shower and change.

Pinning her wet hair to the top of her head, she stepped out of her room and looked up at the ceiling, as Walter’s heavy footsteps pounded against the floor above her head. Every so often, she could hear him calling Zeke’s name, then the sound of a door slamming, followed by the process starting over again.

Hearing another set of footsteps coming up the stairs, Arden walked along the hall. She made it the top of the staircase just as Savannah, still in her bathing suit, appeared with her long see-through cover up billowing behind her.

“There you are,” Arden said. “I thought you were getting dressed.”

Savannah shook her head. “Kevin wanted to find the cottage, so he dragged me out into the woods to help. Then he disappeared on me. I’ve been wandering around out there for thirty minutes trying to find my way back. I’m pretty sure I’ve got poison ivy now.”

“Uh huh, why is Kevin looking for the cottage?”

“I don’t know; something about the Executioner.” Shaking her head, she gave a half-hearted wave before continuing towards her door. “I better go get cleaned up for lunch. Haskell told me we’re having lunch in about half an hour.” She paused and looked back. “Can you do me a favor? There’s no way I’ll be ready in time. Can you save me a peanut butter, raspberry and chocolate croissant sandwich?”

Arden did a double take. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, save me two.” She continued to her room. “You know, I developed such a craving for those sandwiches while I was pregnant with my first set of twins. I used to get them sent to my dressing room every day towards the end of our last season.”

“No kidding,” Arden said wryly. “Are you sure you’ve never met Haskell?”

Savannah paused at her door and looked thoughtful. “If I have, I don’t remember him,” she said before disappearing into her room.

“I have a feeling he remembers you,” Arden muttered as she started down the stairs.

The front door opened and slammed shut.

Kevin stood in the foyer, staring at his palms. He didn’t look up as she continued down the stairs. As she neared, Arden noticed that his light blue bathing shorts and his white shirt were streaked with dirt and mud. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead and a trickle of blood fell along his cheek. “What happened to you?”

He looked at her in surprise only then noticing her. “I fell.” He gestured toward the door. “There’s a rickety old staircase near the cliff that goes down to the beach. I thought I might be able to reach the cottage from there, but just as I started to go down, the handrail gave away suddenly and I started to fall.”

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He held out raw palms streaked with dirt and blood. “I thought I was going to die. I caught myself—I don’t know how—and pulled myself back.”

Noticing a tremor going through his body, she lightly touched his arm. “Oh, you poor thing. Are you sure you are alright?”

“Bit shaken. If you head that way make sure to stay away from it. It’s not safe at all.” He grimaced as she examined his hands. “They should put a warning sign by those stairs. Someone’s going to get hurt if they don’t.”

“You better put something on that or it’ll get infected. Come with me,” she said leading him to the bathroom. “Why were you out there anyway?”

He hissed as she straightened out his hand and held it under the running water. “I was following the Executioner’s clues.”

She looked up with a frown. “What clues?”

Grimacing, he said. “He left me a note. Some kind of riddle. Made me think he was at the cottage. It was obviously a trap.”

Her brow furrowed. “A trap? What do you mean by a trap? You mean someone did this intentionally?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment as he cleaned his hands, and then dried them with a towel.

“Do you think Zeke tried to hurt you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, absolutely not. It was just an accident.” He checked his face in the mirror. “I guess I just,” he blew out his breath, “let my imagination run wild for a moment. I tend to do that. I get kind of carried away sometimes.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Kevin, have you ever heard of Elaine Sutton?”

He glanced at her with a frown before bending down to wash his face. “No, why?”

“Reese just mentioned her name to me.” She handed him another hand towel. “Said she was Zeke’s girlfriend. I don’t suppose you know where Zeke is right now.”

He gave her a lopsided grin as he dried his face. “He’s dead, remember?” He folded the towel and laid it on the side of the sink. “I expect he’s at the cottage waiting for the next victim to arrive.”

“Dennis looked. He’s not there.”

“He’s there.”

“How do you know?” She asked following him back into the foyer.

“Where else would he be? He might have been on the beach or maybe in town when Dennis stopped by.” He looked around. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Savannah? I lost her in the woods.”

“Yeah, she’s upstairs changing.”

“I see.” He nodded. “And where’s Haskell?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug.

He glanced down at his scraped knees and dirty clothes. “Well, I better go change before lunch.” He lightly touched her arm and smiled. “Thanks for your help. See you at lunch.” He turned, and taking the steps two at a time, ran upstairs.

A feeling of unease came over Arden as she stood there.

It’s just a game, she repeated to herself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Just a game. That’s all it is.

Walking to the library, she ran a hand across the back of her neck willing herself to relax. As much as she liked playing mystery games, Zeke’s game was just a bit too realistic for her tastes.

She slipped into the library, surprised to find Paige seated in a comfy armchair near the fireplace, furiously writing into some kind of journal, and on the other side of the room, seated behind a large desk and speaking into a cell phone, was Dennis.

Spotting Arden standing by the door, Paige jumped to her feet and waved her over.

“Look what I found,” Paige said holding up a pocket sized spiral notebook. “It’s a detective notebook. There’s a page for writing down facts.” She flipped over a page. “Another one for writing down clues.” Another page flipped by. “And one for listing out suspects. Neat huh?”

Arden frowned at her suspect list. “Why is my name written on the suspect list?”

Paige flipped the book closed. “No reason,” she said innocently.

“I’m not a suspect. I’m an extra just like you.”

“That’s just what a suspect would say.”

Deciding she couldn’t argue with that logic, Arden simply smiled as she followed Paige over to a table against the wall filled with notepads and pencils.

She glanced over at the back of Dennis’ head as she passed by.

“No,” Dennis said into his cell phone, “I did not.” Anger began seeping into his voice. “How much money did she withdraw?  No, don’t say anything. I’ll take care of it. Thank you for notifying me. Goodbye.” He brought the phone down and glared at it for a moment before muttering, “How could she do this to me?”

“Is everything alright?” Arden asked.

Dennis jerked his head up in surprise. His features smoothed into a smile. “Yes, everything’s fine,” he said already turning away from her.

“I hope everything works out with the reunion movie,” she said quickly stopping him in his tracks.

“I hope so too.” He slowly backed towards the door. “I’ve put a lot of work into arranging this weekend.”

“Do you think Zeke might throw a wrench in the works?”

Coming to a complete stop, Dennis frowned. “What makes you think he’ll do that?”

Arden tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Just a feeling.”

“He’s as excited about this project as we are. Probably more so.” He looked nervous as he shuffled from one foot to the other. “I better see if lunch is ready. If you’ll excuse me.”

Arden glanced over at Paige who was furiously writing in her notebook as Dennis finally made his escape. “Did you get all that?”

“Every word,” Paige said. “I wonder where Zeke’s hiding out. If he’s not here or at the cottage, where could he be?”

Arden ran her hand over the fireplace mantle. “This place is huge. There are probably dozens of places to hide.”

Paige looked thoughtful. “Did Max text you back about that dumbwaiter question of mine?”

Arden reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “No, but I’ve got a few more questions for him.”

Grinning to herself, she sent Max a quick text.

How would you discover if someone is a homicidal maniac? Are those kind of records available to the public?

Max responded a few seconds later.

Where are you?!?

Paige sidled up next to Arden and peeked over her shoulder. She tsked lightly. “What are you doing to that poor man?”

“Playing with Max.”

“Are you going to answer him?” Paige asked.

“When he answers one of our questions, I’ll answer his,” Arden said, quickly typing out a text. I told you it’s a secret.

Are you somewhere safe?

Paige smiled dreamily. “Aw, he’s worried about you. Isn’t that sweet? I told you he liked you.”

Arden?

Frowning, Arden typed out yes, but hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen.

“What’s wrong?” Paige asked.

“Nothing,” Arden said quickly, sending her message. She plastered a reassuring smile to her face as she pocketed her phone. “Everything’s fine.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You don’t look like everything’s fine. Why do you want to know about homicidal maniacs anyway?”

Arden turned to face the fireplace. She pressed her hands against the mantle place, striking the wood with her palm. Then she repeated the process a few more times. As she did, she told Paige what Reese told her about Elaine Sutton. “Brad Anderson thinks Zeke murdered her.”

Paige’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s interesting. Who’s playing Brad Anderson?”

“No one,” she said moving to the bookcase next to the fireplace. She pulled books down at random. “What if Reese was telling me the truth? What if Zeke really is crazy?”

Paige gave a less than lady like snort.

Finding no trigger that would open the door to the secret room on the left hand side of the fireplace, she moved to the bookcase on the right hand side. “Paige, what if we’re in danger? What if Zeke is in danger? Yvette and Walter are up to something.”

“I certainly hope so.” Paige looked back down at her notebook. “Walter’s one of my top suspects.” She frowned as Arden began peering behind books and striking the back of the bookcase. “What are you doing?”

“Elaine’s body was found behind the fireplace. There must be a hidden room back here.” She struck her hand against the wood again. “Does that sound hollow to you?”

“No.”

Making a note of disgust in her voice, she moved to the wall sconces and tried pulling on each one. “Don’t you think this whole thing is a bit strange? I’ve played dozens of mystery games before, but never one like this. Usually people are assigned characters to play, with fake names, fake backgrounds, and fake motives. We’re talking about real people here. Real incidents. Real anger.” She walked to the other sconce and twisted. “There’s something off about all of this.” Her eyes widened as the sconce came off in her hand.

Paige looked amused. “I completely agree,” she said taking the sconce from Arden’s hand and reattaching it to the wall.

Arden breathed a sigh of relief at Paige’s response. At least she wasn’t the only one who thought something strange was going on. “Good.”

“I think these people have been playing their parts since we walked in the door. For all we know, Savannah has been too. Remember how she let it slip out last night that sometimes the game starts earlier than people think. I think that story she told about the stalker was all a red herring to throw us off the trail.”

“What?”

“That’s right. I’m starting to think she just might be the Executioner.”

Arden’s shoulders sagged. “Paige, I’m serious. I think we might be in danger.”

“Oh, come on, think about it. If we were truly in danger, Savannah would tell us.”

“If she knew, I’m sure she would, but what if we’re the only ones playing this game? What if there really is something sinister going on around here?”

Paige looked at her doubtfully.

“Do you remember those two old guys at the gas station yesterday?” Arden asked. “I overheard them talking about a murder.”

“You did?” She looked at Arden with a suspicious look in her eye.

“It’s true. I didn’t hear much, but apparently, some man named Anderson was found in his office, dead. They thought he was having an affair with someone’s wife and they mentioned something about a fire.”

Paige lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, and?”

“Do you remember that burned out newspaper office we passed yesterday? Reese told me that he spoke to a reporter in town, by the name of Brad Anderson, who filled him in on what happened to Zeke’s girlfriend here at Cliff House forty years ago. And yesterday, I overheard Walter give his condolences to Yvette for the death of her boyfriend, who by the way, was named Brad. Maybe there’s not a connection. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. I hope it is a coincidence. I want to believe that it’s just a coincidence—part of me is convinced it is—but the other part... is getting pretty freaked out right now.”

The corners of Paige’s lips lifted up. “Hmm. Interesting.”

Arden sighed. “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I do. I do.” She giggled. “You know when Savannah told me what we’d be doing, I was afraid I’d be kind of bored, but this is actually pretty fun.” A frown tugged at her lips. “I wish I had gotten some sort of instruction too. Something other than being just an extra. You know I did some acting in high school. I was pretty good at it too.”

“I’m not playing a part.”

“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?” She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and with an excited gleam in her eye said, “I think I’m going to take a look around the house and see if I can find any more clues. I bet you that dumbwaiter we talked about this morning is significant.” She started to turn but stopped and looked back at Arden. “There’s no other clues you have to give me, are there?”

Arden sighed in exasperation, feeling a bit how she imagined Reese felt when she had refused to believe him earlier that day. “No, that was about it.”

“Good. Thanks a bunch,” Paige said as she walked away, her voice trailing behind her.

Shaking her head, Arden turned back to the bookcase, searching for something that might tell her how to get into the hidden room. She walked along the length of the bookcase, her eyes roving over the titles of history, biology, law and mystery titles. By far, the greater collection consisted of mystery books. Some of the greats from the golden age of mystery were all accounted for in the family library. Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, Rex Stout, Ellery Queen, Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett and even a few Edger Allen Poe’s lined the shelves. Being a Christie fan, she paused to admire the collection of first editions. Each one accounted for except for the last two mysteries she wrote. It seemed strange to her that they would have a collection of Christie books but not include the last two. She glanced back over the other shelves, wondering if someone had misplaced them. When she didn’t find them hidden among the Sayers, Chandlers, or Queens, she plucked a few books off the shelves at random, flipped through them, searching for something about the family who used to live here, and that’s when she noticed that all of the mystery books were published before 1975.

It was while she was browsing through the stack of history books at the far end of the room that she came upon a gold mine of information on the house and the family that had once lived there.

Hoping that this book might answer some of her questions, she removed the History of the Sutton Family of Cliff House from the shelf and laid it on top of the desk.

She thumbed through the construction of the house back in the 1840s, noted the picture found above Zeke’s bed was also in the book, and then moved to the Sutton genealogy in the middle of the book.

She barely paid attention as Haskell announced over the intercom that lunch would be served on the terrace, her gaze flying over the names only stopping when she neared the end. She slowed, her finger tracing the generations down to the last name listed in the book. Elaine Suzanne Sutton, born June 21, 1952.

She quickly turned to the photo album at the back, skipping forward until she found an old picture of a man and woman with their young daughter standing in front of Cliff House. The names written below the picture listed from left to right were William, Maud, and Elaine Sutton, 1955. She flipped through school pictures and holiday pictures of Elaine, stopping when she came to another picture similar to the first with the only difference being that William and Maud were absent and Elaine was a teenager.

In this one, an angry looking man stood next to a sullen looking Elaine in front of Cliff House. Another woman stood in the background out of focus. There were no names or dates under this picture and she turned the page until she came to the last two pictures in the album.

On the left hand side of the page was a picture of a fourteen-year-old Elaine Sutton sitting on a brass bed playing with a guitar. Standing next to her in front of a large dollhouse was a young girl with dark hair and at her two feet on the floor were two boys.  The girl looked like a younger version of Yvette and the boy on her right was obviously Dennis. All that was written underneath the picture was, Elaine (age 14) and her friends, Summer 1966.

Across from that picture was a picture of an older Elaine and Zeke standing in front of a stained glass window. The ruby red rose in the center of the window was just barely visible behind their heads.

Arden’s lips parted on a gasp as she was immediately struck by the girl’s resemblance to Savannah in that moment. Same golden curly hair. Same bright blue eyes. Even the girl’s blue velvet dress seemed oddly similar to some of the things Savannah wore on Sutton & Grimes. Despite the fact that there was a span of about thirty years between the girl in the picture and Savannah’s Sunny Sutton days, there was definitely a similarity between their styles. The black choker around the girl’s neck stood out, reminding Arden of the choker Savannah was wearing this morning. In fact, most of the jewelry the girl was wearing seemed familiar to Arden.

She slipped the picture out of the cover and turned it over.

Written on the back of the picture in dark red flowing script, was the words, To My Sunshine, Love Zeke. Underneath were their names and ages. Zeke Tapper and Elaine ‘Sunny’ Sutton, and the date June 21, 1971.

This could have been planted, she thought, desperately clinging to the idea that this was just a game. Make believe were these people's stock in trade. How easy it would have been to find a girl that looked like Savannah, dress her in old clothes, take a picture of her and merge it with an old picture of Zeke. It would be child’s play to people like them. This whole book could be a fake.

Arden tucked her hair behind her ears and bent over the picture studying it, looking for any mistake, anything to prove this picture was manipulated but found none.

She fell back into the chair behind her as a cold feeling swept over her.

Reese was telling the truth.