“Cat hairs are the least of my concerns,” Gamma said, examining the two white strands I’d placed in her palm.
We sat under the oak tree in the inn’s front yard, on our favorite bench for rendezvousing, after a delicious lunch and an exhausting bout of cleaning the kitchen. “You’re not?” I asked. “I thought you were worried about the phantom cat.”
“I’m not wild about the idea of a random cat roaming the halls and upsetting the guests, but with the Halloween party on the horizon, I have much bigger issues, Charlotte. The guests are tense from Julia’s murder, and the decor… inexplicable.”
“Still no luck with camera footage?” Gamma had been trying to find the perpetrator who kept stealing the decorations from the inn.
“Nothing. Whoever’s doing it is either a phantom themselves or has found a blind spot in our security measures. I don’t know how they’re getting the stuff out of the inn. But enough about that,” Gamma said, sweeping her hands through the air as if to brush the worry aside, “tell me about your discoveries.”
I brought my phone out—having transferred the two pictures I’d bought from Freddy first to my laptop and then to my device—and showed them to my grandmother.
She pursed her lips, studying the images. “I don’t see any of the major suspects near the back of the room in this one,” she said. “But this second image is fascinating. Peach fabric.” She pinched and opened her fingers on the screen, zooming in on the groomsmen. “The pocket squares.”
“Yes.”
“And then there’s that.” She zoomed in on the best man next.
“This was taken right before the lights were cut.”
“He’s reaching for something in his pocket. But what? And would he have had enough time to get to the back of the room. And in the dark, no less?”
“I don’t know. But I want to find out,” I said.
“Very well.” Gamma handed back my phone and rose from the seat, brushing off the lap of her skirt. “Shall we?”
“What… now?”
“No, time like the present,” she replied. “Regardless of whether he gives us much information or not, we need to speak with him. Find out what his attitude is regarding both the groom and the victim.”
“Right.”
I followed my grandmother down the front path and into the inn, my stomach churning though I’d done this many times before. Why was I hesitating? What was I afraid of?
Failure.
The word reverberated in my thoughts, bouncing off the insides of my skull until I was sure I’d go insane. Failure. Failure.
Up until a year ago, failing hadn’t bothered me one bit. I’d been a spy hiding out. Everything had been going to plan and then… I’d continuously messed up and my skills had been called into question.
And now I was retired. Or rather, I had quit. Because I could never live up to—
“This is his room,” Gamma said, stopping in front of the door to the Blue Room. “Let’s hope he’s here and not out gallivanting.”
“Wait.” I touched her arm. “What’s his name?”
“Goodness, Charlotte, you really aren’t a people person. It’s on the guest registry, you know, and you have been serving these people for over a week.”
I swallowed, anxiety building. “I’ve been distracted.”
“Grant Hodges,” she replied.
“Right. OK. Mr. Hodges.” She was right. I should’ve known that. But between my cleaning duties, the ghost tours, the cooking, and fixing problems for others…
Excuses. Failing again, Charlotte.
Gamma knocked on the door to the Blue Room.
Mr. Grant Hodges opened it a moment later. He was tall, much taller than the groom, but young. Maybe in his twenties? He wore his hair parted to one side and had a thin wispy mustache that he’d clearly tried styling. Failed abysmally.
“Yeah? What do you want?” Another New York accent. Brooklyn maybe?
“Mr. Hodges,” Gamma said. “How are you today?”
“Eh. I’ve been better. Boring as heck in this place, you know? Nothing to do in a small town.” He pressed fingers to his mustache, smoothing it. “What do you want?”
“We wanted to talk,” I said. “My name is Charlotte Smith. I’ve been hired by your friend, Mr. Knowles, to investigate what happened to Julia.”
“Right, yeah.” He shook his head. “I told him that it was a waste of time trying to figure it out, but he’s always had a problem taking good advice.”
“Why do you think it’s a waste of time?” I asked.
“Cos there were so many guys who wanted to get rid of Julia.”
“Guys?” I asked.
“Yeah. You know. Dudes.” Mr. Hodges stepped back and gestured for us to enter the Blue Room. It was one of the smaller suites in the inn, with a single bed, two Louis-style armchairs in blue silk, and a desk in the corner. Still it was cozy, the aesthetic completed by a bookcase stocked with great literature, and an en suite bathroom.
We entered the room, Gamma taking a seat in an armchair while I remained standing, arms folded.
“You’re fine with talking in front of her?” Hodges asked, gesturing to Gamma.
“Mrs. Franklin,” I corrected him, bristling at his carelessness. “And yeah, of course. Now, what do you mean by ‘dudes’ wanting to get rid of Julia?”
“Heck, everybody knows Julia wasn’t satisfied with one relationship.” Grant sat in the second armchair, smoothing his mustache repeatedly. “I tried to warn Ethan about her, but, like I said, he had trouble taking good advice. Doesn’t matter where it comes from. Always thinks he knows better, and Julia… She was the type of woman you avoided. A black widow. Eat your heart if she got the chance.”
“Eat your heart?” I asked.
“Yeah. She was a man-eater, if you want to put it that way,” Grant said. “She tried to hit on me once, and I rejected her because, I mean, that’s my best bud’s fiancée. I didn’t want to tell Ethan about it in so many words, but I tried to warn him.”
“Why didn’t you want to tell him about it?”
“Because I knew he wouldn’t believe me. He’d think I was lying or blame me for it. Julia had him wrapped around her little finger,” Grant replied. “She could do no wrong in his eyes.”
That didn’t necessarily agree with what I’d seen at the wedding, or what Ethan himself had told me. That she’d behaved strangely, that he hadn’t wanted to get involved in the wedding, that she had her flaws.
Was Mr. Hodges lying? Or was Ethan lying?
“I want to show you something,” I said, drawing my phone from my pocket. I opened the picture on screen. “This image was taken just before the shot was fired.”
Mr. Hodges paled. He glanced at the image then away. “Yeah? What about it?”
“You’re reaching into your suit pocket. What for?”
“Why I gotta tell you that?”
“If you didn’t shoot Julia, why wouldn’t you tell me that?” I asked.
He went even paler and sat back in the armchair, the wood creaking under his shifting weight. “Shoot Julia? Look, I didn’t like her, but I wouldn’t kill her. Ethan’s my buddy but if he wanted to chain himself to her, that was his business.”
“Then what were you reaching for in your pocket?” I asked.
Now that I was here, talking to him, the nerves from earlier had disappeared. I wanted answers. Even if those answers were lies. Gamma would be gauging his reactions as we proceeded, and she was a wonder when it came to smelling manure of the verbal persuasion.
“For breath spray,” Mr. Hodges said, at last. “I wanted to be fresh before the proceedings began.”
“Breath spray?”
“Yeah. The mint kind.”
I stared at him for a long moment, and he wilted under my gaze.
“I swear, it was mint spray, that’s all.” He cleared his throat twice. “Look, you can ask the cops if you don’t believe me. I didn’t have a gun on me.”
“Did you lose your pocket square?” Gamma asked.
“My what?”
“That,” I said, tapping on the picture.
“No? Why? That’s a weird—”
“What did you see when you were up there?” I asked. “Did you notice anything strange?”
Mr. Hodges relaxed infinitesimally. Because the heat was off him? “Strange? I noticed plenty of strange stuff. Julia was crying when she came up to the altar. Ethan was… zoning out. I think because he took a muscle relaxant.”
“A muscle relaxant?” I asked. “Not a sleeping pill?”
“No, a muscle relaxant. I gave it to him myself.”
“Do you have any left?”
“Nope. Cops took ‘em.”
There’s another dead end. Well, at least Aaron is doing his job investigating the crime. “What else was strange?” I asked.
“Mrs. Knowles wore white to the wedding.” Hodges guffawed. “Don’t even get me started on that lady. She’s got issues and always has. Poor Ethan’s been putting up with her for years.”
“Putting up with her, how?”
“She’s always bossed him around, told him what he can and can’t do like he’s still a kid. I stay out of her way. Just nod and smile when I see her. She’s never liked any of Ethan’s friends or girlfriends. But if you want my opinion?” Hodges pressed a finger to his mustache and swept it over the sparse hairs. “I think it was one of Julia’s boyfriends who did it. She had plenty, and I bet that one of ‘em took exception to the fact that she was getting married. Think about it. Julia was loaded. Set for life. And any guy who married her would be too.”
“Thanks, Mr. Hodges. I appreciate your honesty.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t agree with Ethan trying to figure out what happened himself. There are professional cops working the case. He’s going to inherit all that money from Julia and the first thing he decides to do is waste it on a small town…” He trailed off as if realizing that he’d insulted me several times over.
Gamma sniffed and got up. We left the Blue Room and made for the staircase.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“That he’s an objectionable young man, but there’s not much one can do about that. A boy needs to be raised properly so that they have manners. Clearly, it’s too late for him.”
“And the testimony he gave?”
“It’s the first time we’ve heard about affairs,” Gamma noted. “We’ve heard about Julia being mean, hateful even, and being rich and holding it over other people’s heads, but never affairs. I wonder if it’s true.”
“We can find out,” I said.
“Yes, indeed. Julia’s funeral is tomorrow. If she had lovers, as Mr. Hodges claims, at least one of them should be in attendance.”
At the bottom of the stairs, entering the foyer, we were greeted by Lauren, her apron spattered with flour. “There you are! Have you heard the news?”
“What news?” Gamma asked.
“The police have finished their work at the town hall. Apparently, there’s going to be a clean-up crew going in this evening. Melissa told Gregory, who told Mr. Prake in the fresh fruit aisle at the store. He said that his cousin is going to help clean the place up. Said that the police left a load of mess in there.” Lauren pressed a hand to her chest. “Isn’t it just terrible? Surely there won’t be… blood or anything, right?”
“There are specific cleaning services for things like that,” I said.
“In the big city, yeah,” Lauren whispered, growing green around the gills. “But in Gossip? We’re just a small town. Oh, I hope Mr. Prake’s cousin doesn’t see anything nasty.”
I glanced over at my Gamma, and she gave me a tiny nod. The scene had been released. That meant it was time for us to move in before the cleaner’s got the chance. If there was any evidence left for us to “process” we’d find it tonight.