One of the worst feelings in the world was being stumped.
I sat at the kitchen table in the inn, my tiny notepad open in front of me and tapped my stubby pencil on the edge of the page. Lauren hummed as she cleaned up after our breakfast service.
Suspect List:
Ethan Knowles (groom)
Alibi: Not technically an alibi, but he was standing across from Julia so couldn’t have been at the back of the room to shoot her. But that begs the question: where did he disappear to after the murder took place. Why did he run and not wait for Julia?
Notes: Asked me to investigate the crime. Mentioned that one of the bridesmaids might have stolen her journal. Why was the journal important?
Ethan also said that Julia had been acting erratically the closer they got to the wedding. What could be the reason? She accused Lauren of poisoning the custard slices. Was she just paranoid? Clearly not since she was murdered.
Julia and Ethan had a major argument before the wedding.
Mrs. Sarah-Lin Knowles (groom’s mother)
Alibi: None. She got up and left shortly before the wedding ceremony began. She seemed super frustrated.
Notes: Groom’s mother who wore white to the wedding. According to Lauren and Georgina, she was incredibly overbearing. Find out what’s going on there.
She’s allergic to cats and resented Julia because she brought them to an inn with so many cats. Also because Julia was newly rich and not good enough for her son.
Motive could’ve been jealousy or anger.
Mr. Knowles (groom’s father)
Alibi: No idea. Do not recall seeing him at the wedding but might’ve been seated near to the front? Will have to find out.
Notes: Doesn’t seem to like his wife much.
Sasha Dewar (maid-of-honor)
Alibi: Up at the front. But not necessarily an alibi.
Notes: Dark, curly hair. Incredibly mean. Made a point of saying that she didn’t hate Julia. Accused the groom’s mother of committing the crime. Seems very nervous. Attention-seeker.
Bella (bridesmaid)
Alibi: None. Up at the front with the other bridesmaids.
Notes: Shy at first. Accused Sasha of being hateful toward Julia. Need to talk to her or find out more about her. What would her motive have been, though?
Best man? More about this guy/
Extra notes:
Swatch of peach fabric torn from attacker.
Attacker stole the note that Julia wrote to me asking for help.
Gunshot from back of the room.
Had to be at least two people—attacker, murderer who then switched off lights.
Groom’s mother, Sarah-Lin, left her seat moments before it occurred.
Groom looked bored.
Bride was unhappy and sobbing as she approached the altar.
Best man seemed to advise the groom not to approach me about the case (as they got out of the BMW the night before).
Julia’s journal is missing. Could this be the answer to everything?
Peach handkerchief—Mrs. Knowles.
How did the shooter see their target in the dark??
Someone poisoned the custard slice found in Julia’s dressing room. But who? A bridesmaid?
“What’s the matter, Charlie?” Lauren asked, stopping beside the table, holding a kitchen towel. “Aren’t you going to eat your waffles?”
I’d completely forgotten about them. The waffles were homemade, doused in syrup, with fresh dollops of cream on top. Lauren had garnished them with strawberries.
I cut off a piece and ate it, relishing the sweetness. The food helped cheer me up a little.
“I’m working on case notes,” I said. “And things are getting complicated.”
“Oh.” Lauren hesitated, wriggling her nose from side-to-side. “Oh, right. Well, I bet I can help you.” She pulled a chair out and sat down. “I know a little bit about Julia Childless. She was younger than me, but I have a lot of good friends who went to Gossip High School during her year.”
“Yeah?”
Lauren nodded, eyeing my waffle. I pushed the plate toward her. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I’ve been so hungry the past few months, ever since little Rebecca came along.”
“It’s the breastfeeding,” I said. “Right?”
“That or I’m pregnant again.” She laughed. “I’m kidding, Charlie. But you should see your face.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to deal with a highly hormonal pregnant woman past her due date.”
“That’s a lived experience.” She tucked into the waffle. “Man, that’s good. If I do say so myself.”
“Feel free. You’re an excellent chef,” I replied.
Lauren rewarded me with a special smile before eating another bite of waffle. “OK,” she said, “so you want to know about Julia Childless? I’ll do anything to help if it means you’ll clear me of poisoning the custard slices. The audacity of that detective, thinking he can…” She cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, Charlie, you know me, I’m not one to gossip, but there’s quite a lot I can tell you about Julia.”
“Like what?”
“Let me see. Let me see.” She ate another bite while mulling it over. “Julia was popular in high school, mostly because her daddy was wealthy beyond measure. The type of man who didn’t have to worry about working another day in his life. He struck oil. Black gold.”
“Oh, wow, OK. So Julia wasn’t rich. She was rich rich.”
“She was stinkin’ rich if that’s what you mean,” Lauren said, twirling a lock of red hair around her finger. “So you heard about that?”
“I heard that she was wealthy and that’s the reason the groom’s mother hated her so much,” I said.
“See, I don’t know anything about her relationship with the groom or his family. They’re out-of-towners. New Yorkers.”
“Right.”
“But it’s real interesting that Julia decided not to invite any of her old friends to the wedding,” Lauren said.
“She didn’t?”
“Not even one of them. Misty told me that she didn’t receive an invite even though they were thick as thieves back before Julia left Gossip for greener pastures,” Lauren said. “Or should I say, smoggier pastures since she went on out to the city.”
“That’s strange,” I said. “Wait, is that the same Misty who hides in bushes?”
“Uh…?”
“Nevermind.” But if it was the Misty I knew from my last problem-fixing session then I kind of got why Julia hadn’t invited her to the wedding. She was sweet but exceptionally unique. “OK, so Julia didn’t invite any of her friends to the wedding. What about family?”
“Her mother died when she was a young girl. Her father recently passed too. Car accident. There were rumors that Julia did it.”
“Did what?”
“Planned the accident,” Lauren whispered, and grimaced. “I don’t like to even say it out loud, but those were the rumors. There weren’t many folks who liked Julia after she left town. She made it clear that she didn’t want to keep in touch with her friends.”
“Then why come back here to have her wedding?” But I thought I might already have the answer. Julia had wanted to take control of her wedding, and what better way to do it than to fly or drive everyone out to Gossip.
That was exactly what the anaphylactic Mrs. Knowles had claimed yesterday.
“So, Julia had no living family?”
“No,” Lauren said. “No family, and nothing but a whole lot of money to go around. More than she’d ever know what to do with.”
“I wonder who inherits it all.”
“I don’t even think she had a will. Maybe it goes to her fiancé? That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?” Lauren finished off the last of the waffle.
If she was right, and it did go to Ethan Knowles, then I had more reason to suspect him.
“What else can you tell me about Julia? What kind of person was she in high school?”
“Mean as they came. Popular because of her money,” Lauren said. “And she used to do this thing where she would loan out her clothing and jewelry and if you didn’t get it back to her exactly when she wanted it, she would make you pay. Not even financially. She would make you her little servant for a week. None of the girls dared to resist. She was too powerful because of her daddy.”
I made a note of it on my list. This was a lot of good information to add to my case file, but it didn’t prove anything other than there had, indeed, been a lot of people who’d hated Julia. “Got it. So—”
“I knew it!” The cry came from the kitchen archway. Violet, the ever-complaining guest in her marshmallow pink sweater vest, stood there, holding up two fingers, her thumb and forefinger pinched together. “See? I told you so!”
“Uh… what?” I asked.
“Look!” She took a step into the kitchen, and Lauren rose from her chair.
“This is a guest-free zone, Mrs. Walker,” she said.
“Whatever.” Violet backed out of the kitchen, regardless. The guests knew better than to “try” Lauren. “Look at what I found. It’s proof that the phantom cat exists.”
“A phantom cat?” Lauren perked up. “What phantom cat? You know, my auntie Shelley on my father’s side saw a phantom monkey once. It used to sit on the edge of her bed every night and tug on her big toe. Of course, that was after she got struck by lightning. Everything got wild after that happened. Did you know that lightning attracts spirits?”
I blinked then turned to Violet. “What have you got there, Mrs. Walker?”
“It’s hair. Cat hair! White cat hair! I found it in the hallway on the center carpet. That Persian one right outside my room.”
“A Persian phantom cat? From the middle-east?” Lauren asked.
“No, the Persian rug,” Violet thrust her pinched fingers toward me for examination.
I walked over, and yeah, there was a white cat hair pinched between her fingers. I removed it, carefully. “You found this outside your room?” Honestly, the white hair could’ve been a fiber from someone’s faux fur coat, but after the sighting of the phantom cat on the camera footage… who knew?
“Outside my room. Didn’t I tell you that it was out to get me? Didn’t I?”
“Tell me more about this cat,” Lauren said, dragging the woman into the kitchen. So much for the guest-free zone. Apparently, ghosts trumped the rules. “What did it look like?”
“It was white. And it lunges at my ankles,” Violet said, glancing around the kitchen. “Every night after dinner.”
I left them to the conversation. I had a ghost tour to host, a killer to find, and… gosh, the list seemed endless. How was I going to get it all done?