“You have a gift,” Detective Goode said. “Have I told you that before? I think I’ve told you that before, but I’m not sure it sank in.”
“Nothing you say sinks in,” I replied. “Your words do not penetrate my mind barrier.”
“A thick skull.”
“Are you trying to insult me?”
“I believe I was succeeding.” Detective Goode had his pen and notepad out. He clicked the ballpoint several times, his eyes boring into me.
“In annoying me, yes. You’re great at that,” I replied, grateful that I had removed my earpiece and microphone before the interview. The last thing I needed was my grandmother listening in and making inappropriate comments. “That’s your special gift.”
“I’d take being annoying over being involved in every murder case in Gossip in the last year.”
“How am I involved? How? Explain this to me because I would love to hear it,” I said. “Like…?”
“You’re here. At the crime scene. Again.”
“Look, I don’t know when or where you took your detective’s test and how they taught you to interview witnesses, but this ain’t it.” I pointed at him and then at me.
“Are you trying to ask me out?” He arched a dark eyebrow. “Because that’s highly inappropriate, Miss Smith. A woman just died.”
Anger heated my throat and cheeks. Breathe. He’s doing it on purpose. Just breathe.
“Goode,” I said, “do you want to question me or not?”
He kept that eyebrow raised. “I’d like to keep you guessing. But yeah, let’s talk about what happened here.” He gestured toward the town hall with a pen. We had been removed from the place, the police line already up. The activity at the town hall had drawn lookers-on. Folks who weren’t guests at the wedding.
And then there were the guests who had been corralled off to one side by police officers and were having their statements taken. There were a lot of them. A lot of potential suspects.
The groom stood with his best man off to one side, their heads bowed together. The bridesmaids hugged each other, or tried to, their peach dresses getting in the way, so that every time they reached for each other, they rebounded. Their weeping was soft yet obvious in the hush that had descended around the town hall.
Detective Goode cleared his throat. “Hello? Earth to Charlotte.”
“Call me Miss Smith,” I replied. “I prefer a gap between us.”
“And here I was thinking you were a good liar.”
I glared at him. “Are you going to ask me questions or just stand there looking…”
“Handsome?”
“Questions.”
“Answers.”
“You’re so annoying,” I growled.
He gave me a heart-melting grin. “What did you see?”
“Nothing. The lights were off.”
“Cute.” It was Detective Goode’s turn to get annoyed. “Why were you at the wedding?”
“Because the Gossip Inn is catering the event. More specifically, Lauren the chef is catering the event.”
“So I’ve heard.” Goode made a note on his pad. “Is it true that Lauren Harris had an argument with Julia yesterday morning?”
“It wasn’t an argument,” I replied, irritably. “It was Julia being unreasonable.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Right. Anyway.” I folded my arms and looked away. “Lauren wasn’t anywhere near the victim during the wedding. She’s not at the town hall. The reception is going to be held at the Gossip Inn, so yeah.”
“She’s at the Gossip Inn.”
“Correct. And unless you’re suggesting that she can be in two places at once…”
“Talk to me about what happened this evening. From when the bride started walking down the aisle.”
And so, I did, from the moment the bride hit the center peach carpet—seriously, that was peach too—to the lights cutting out, the single gunshot, and the attack.
“You were attacked?” Detective Goode’s expression darkened. “Did you get a good look at the guy?”
“I did mention the lights were off, right?”
He scratched something onto his notepad, avoiding eye contact.
I didn’t tell the detective about the swatch of fabric I’d grabbed, but I did note that they’d made a grab for my purse. “And then there was one last thing.” Am I really going to tell him this? Really? Is this a good idea?
Usually, I kept my clues to myself. Detective Goode was hardly the type of man who liked help with his cases. I doubted any detective would like outside influence, but he ought to know the truth.
Besides, I had snapped a picture of the note, just in case I had to hand this in or I lost it.
“Yeah?” Goode asked. “Are you going to tell me what the one last thing is or just stand there with a mouth full of teeth?”
“You’re such a charmer,” I snapped. “I received a letter from Julia yesterday. It had been left in the kitchen. My guess is that Julia left it for me sometime in the evening after having visited family or friends at the inn, hoping I would discover it in the morning.”
“She left you a letter. About what? And why?”
“She’s a Gossip local, and she wanted help. She believed that someone was after her. In hindsight, that’s probably true.” I sighed, anticipating the slew of questions from Goode.
“And she came to you,” he said. “You and not the police?”
“I was about to ask if she’d talked to local law enforcement about her suspicions.”
“Hold up.” Goode tucked his notepad away, but left his pen out, clicking it furiously. “So, what you’re telling me is that she wrote you a note and you decided not to tell anyone about it?”
“I couldn’t assume the note was legitimate without talking to her first,” I said. “How was I supposed to know that this would happen?”
“Can I see this alleged note?”
“Yeah, you can. The real question is ‘may you see the alleged note?’”
“Miss Smith.” The warning tone was strong.
I opened my clutch and rooted around in it. My phone was there, a spare tube of lipstick and… I scrabbled my fingers along the bottom of the purse. “It’s gone,” I said. “Oh my… it’s gone.”
“It’s gone.” Goode was sardonic now. “So, the mystery note is just gone.”
“The attacker! They must’ve taken it from me. That was what they were after.”
Detective Goode grunted. “That’s all good and well, but for all I know, there never was any note in the first place.”
“I can prove there was a note.” The one thing the attacker hadn’t anticipated was that I had taken a picture of the letter. I brought my phone out and showed Detective Goode the image I’d taken.
“Send this to me,” he said.
I texted him the image. “See? She believed there were two murderers after her.” A murderer and an accomplice? That would explain how the shot had been fired, and I’d been attacked shortly after. But how had they known that Julia had reached out to me?
If it was Julia who had reached out to me.
“Listen, Miss Smith, I appreciate your help, but you’re going to stay out of this. No more cable ties.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gamma and I had found and captured the last two murderers who’d dared to upset the peace in Gossip. And used cable ties while doing so.
The question was, would we do the same this time around? I wasn’t being paid to find the truth. But could I really let two murderers roam free in my town?
“Just do the right thing,” Goode said. “For once.” He left me standing there, my gaze fixed on the doors to the town hall, the crime scene and the physical evidence, barred from my view.