“The Spot” as Gamma had called it in her text was the secret underground armory beneath the inn. It never ceased to amaze me that it was under there, even though we’d spent quite a lot of time between the shelves of weapons and ammo.
I rounded the corner of the Gossip Inn, the sun shining brightly as if it wasn’t the middle of winter, and reached the external basement doors painted in luminous mushrooms—that was Lauren’s doing—and secured with an old-fashioned lock.
I unlocked the doors and descended into the basement, grinning excitedly at the prospect of talking to Gamma about the case. I’d missed her over the course of the past month, both because I had been busy and because she’d been… missing in action for the most part, unless she was in the kitten foster center with the cats.
The Shroom Shed—Lauren’s mushroom growing project—loomed in the darkness, and I passed by it, navigating through the old junk that Gamma had stacked down here to make it seem like the basement was in disrepair.
I found the secret door on the wall, guarded by a camera that was invisible to the naked eye, and knocked once.
The lock clicked, and I entered, closing the door quickly.
Gamma sat at her touchscreen desk, wearing a frilly pink dress and a pair of cream high heels.
“You look fancy,” I said.
“Goodness, do I?” Gamma glanced down at herself. “If this is fancy then I can’t be putting much effort in most of the time.”
I approached her. “And you smell different too.”
“Charlotte, I taught you more manners than this. To comment on a person's odor?”
“I didn’t say you stank or something. It’s just a different perfume.”
“Yes, well, that’s fascinating, but I’d rather like to talk about your case,” she said. “Give me a moment to bring up the relevant information, yes?”
“Right. Thanks.”
While she was busy, I wandered between the rows of shelves, stopping to check out one of Gamma’s new additions. A set of three egg-shaped objects that were probably grenades. They couldn’t be too dangerous, as she wasn’t keeping them on the pedestals in the center of the room.
Those were keycoded, guarded by misted cases and alarms so that nobody could touch them without her permission. Not that anyone knew about this place.
“What are these?” I asked, lifting one of the eggs. “Are they new?”
“Acid eggs,” Gamma said, after an absent glance. “And, yes, they’re new. I have a contact in Kenya who discovered a rather potent form of natural acid. Melts flesh and bone but not metal or fabric. Rather interesting technique. And potent too.”
I grimaced and put the grenade down. This gave me new context as to how dangerous those pedestal items were.
“Ah, here we go,” Gamma said, beckoning to me.
I joined her at the touchscreen desk.
An image of Mrs. Cruz, Mia’s mother, glimmered on the screen. She held a katana upright, above her head, posing and smiling maniacally.
“What on earth? Is that a katana?”
“That is, indeed, a katana. Not made by a professional, I’m sure, but one of those mock katanas that the cosplayers use.”
“Cosplayer?”
“People who like to dress up as characters from their favorite TV shows or movies. Apparently, Mrs. Cruz has quite the affection for blades.”
“What’s she wearing?” I asked.
“A costume, I would assume. I believe it might be something from one of those anime shows. You know, the Japanese cartoons for adults?” Gamma explained. “It doesn’t prove anything, but after one of my grapes mentioned they’d seen Mrs. Cruz sneaking out of her home, I decided to do a deeper background check.”
“Sneaking out? When?” I asked.
Gamma smiled at me, triumphantly. “Every Monday night at 10:00 p.m. sharp.”
“That’s a break in my case,” I said. “She claimed that she was sleeping at that time. So, not only does she have a thing for blades, but she wasn’t where she said she was and she hated the victim? It’s all adding up.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Charlotte,” Gamma said, tapping away on the screen. “There’s more.”
“Oh?”
“I took the liberty of… plying Mr. Donny Braxton’s family lawyer for information.”
I didn’t need to ask what she meant by that. Doubtless, that lawyer was either scarred for life or had no recollection of the interrogation my grandmother had put him through. “What did you find out?”
“That Donny was rich. Apparently, he inherited a large sum of money from his parents. That money won’t be going to his brother, Noah, but to a charity,” Gamma said.
So that ruled out my money motive for Noah. Of course, it was possible that Noah might’ve had a different motive, but the simplest route was often the right one. “OK.” I tilted my head, considering the facts.
Mrs. Cruz looked mighty suspicious to me. But what about Mr. Scott? He’d behaved aggressively about his daughter. Not protective, but downright aggressive.
“Do you have anything else you’d like me to find out for you?” Gamma asked. “I couldn’t find anything on Mia other than that she was smitten with Donny.”
Briefly, I told my grandmother about my encounters with Emmy and her father, Mr. Scott.
“Who, Lawrence?” Gamma asked. “Now, that is interesting. I know Lawrence has a temper, but I haven’t checked out his information in my database for quite some time. Let’s have a look, shall we?”
“It would be super helpful.”
Gamma tapped on the desk again and an image of Mr. Scott appeared. Not just an image, but a mugshot. “Arrested three years ago for aggravated assault. And there are countless reports of domestic disturbances as far back as twenty years ago. Mr. Scott has a temper problem, as I said. Goodness, I had no idea that his temper was this bad.”
“And he didn’t like Donny either. He made that clear,” I said.
“You said he was protective of his daughter?”
“Very,” I said. “Almost angrily protective. There’s something going on there, I’m not sure what.”
“I think I have an inkling,” Gamma said.
“Oh?”
“Mrs. Scott, Linda, she died a few years ago,” Gamma said. “Car accident. Moderately suspicious at the time since there were rumors that she’d asked her husband for a divorce, but nothing ever came of it.” Gamma sighed. “My best guess is that Mr. Scott is either terrified of losing his daughter, in any way shape or form, or he’s worried that she knows something about his wife’s death.”
“Wow. That’s a whole other can of worms.”
“True,” Gamma said. “But if he turns out to be the killer, who knows? You might wind up putting him away for two crimes instead of one.”
I bit down on the inside of my lip and considered it. “I’d like to do some recon tonight,” I said. “Get into the Cruz house and take a look around. Find out if Mrs. Cruz is keeping weapons in there, and if so, whether they were perhaps used at the crime scene.”
“Good idea,” Gamma said. “I’ll meet you here at eight 'o'clock sharp.”
I did a little salute, a half-habit, half-joke, then left my grandmother to enjoy her alone time among her weapons, many of which were pretty darn illegal, and high-tech gadgets. I wanted to help Lauren at least a little today. That way I could keep the guilt over neglecting my duties at bay.