“She won’t come out of her room.” The not-so-hushed tones came from the corner table, where Bella, the platinum blonde bridesmaid had set up camp with the other bridesmaids. They’d quit wearing black since the funeral was over, but they hadn’t left the inn yet.
Most likely because Detective Goode had told them to stick around.
“You know why, don’t you?” Bella continued, as I navigated through the last of the guests still at their tables after breakfast.
This morning had been more custard slices, bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy. Lauren was tired after being kept up by her baby. Apparently, the little one had had difficulty settling into a sleeping routine.
I swept over to the table of gossiping bridesmaids. “Coffee refill?” I asked, trying not to sound irritable.
“No, thank you, we’re good.” Bella’s tone was sharper than it had been at the start of this week. Now that the maid-of-honor wasn’t around, she’d taken her place in every sense of the word. She fiddled with her golden necklace, giving me the “leave me, peasant” look.
I retreated a short distance, positioning myself near the windows and standing with the coffee pot, pretending to scan for diners who might need my service.
Really, I wanted to hear what Bella had to say.
My frustration was born from two things. First, that I hadn’t had the opportunity to snoop around in Sasha’s room. Second, my grandmother was acting strangely, even for her. It appeared that the camera being broken had driven her to distraction.
It was rare for anything to get under Gamma’s skin. The only person who had a talent for doing that was Jessie Belle-Blue. A broken camera, while expensive to replace, shouldn’t have—
“Why do you think she’s acting this way?” the shorter of the two bridesmaids asked. “Is she upset after the funeral?”
“It was a total waste of time,” the taller bridesmaid put in, slapping her fingers on the edge of the table. “I’m telling you, girls, I wouldn’t have gone if I’d thought it would turn out like that.”
“Embarrassing,” Short agreed. “It was disrespectful to Julia’s memory.”
Bella clapped her gloved hands once—she wore white lace gloves, a pointless garment—and shook her head at her friends. “Come on, girls. Surely you know what’s going on.” She purred it. “Sasha’s not hiding in her room. Right now, she’s frantically packing her bags because she knows what’s coming next.”
“And what’s that?” Tall asked.
“Her arrest.”
Both bridesmaids gasped and shared a horrified look.
“You can’t be serious, Bella,” Short said.
“What makes you think that?” Another slap of fingers on the table from Tall.
I’d love to know myself.
“Think about it,” Bella continued, practically oozing smugness. “She was the last one seen with Julia before the wedding. Did you see Julia with a custard slice before you left the dressing room that morning?”
“No,” Tall said.
Short shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.
“Exactly. You two, me, and Mrs. Knowles left them in the dressing room together. There wasn’t any sign of a custard slice in there when we were around. So where did it come from? It had to have been from Sasha.”
“That’s a terrible accusation,” Short said.
“She might be right,” Tall put in. “But what can we do about it?”
“All we can do is sit and wait for the cops to come over and get her,” Bella replied, with a vicious smile. “Sasha hated Julia. We all know that. She’s always been jealous of her.”
“But why?” Short asked. “Not the jealousy thing. I mean, why would Sasha have wanted to do this?”
Bella shrugged.
Apparently, no one could figure that out.
But the information was interesting, whether it was correct or not. Sasha hadn’t come to breakfast, but I had gone up, knocked on her door, and asked if she needed anything. She had refused me entry.
And I couldn’t search her room while she was in there.
Now, what?
“Come in, Chaplin.” My grandmother spoke in my earpiece. She had insisted that we wear mics and earpieces today, since she was on a mission. Though she hadn’t filled me in on the details yet. An alarming fact.
Was everything falling apart at the inn?
“Reading you, Big G.” I moved through the dining area, deposited my coffee on the buffet table, then exited into the hallway.
“You’d better meet me outside.”
“Front?”
“Correct.”
“On my way to you now.” I stripped off my apron and deposited it on a table in the foyer before emerging onto the porch. There were cars parked in front of the inn, as usual, and Violet’s red Nissan Altima was off in its usual spot.
Gamma, however, was nowhere to be seen.
“Come in, Big G,” I murmured.
“To your right, Chaplin.”
I turned my head and found Gamma seated on the porch swing. She patted the spot next to her.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on Violet. She’s been moving around the inn, almost frantically, pacing in the grounds. See there?” Gamma nodded toward the distant trees.
And indeed, there was the marshmallow-pink sweater vest herself. She was on her phone, pacing as she talked, occasionally gesturing.
“I have a feeling she’ll try to leave soon,” Gamma said, and opened her palm to show me her car keys. “Are you ready to practice your driving, Charlotte?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be. You think she’ll try to lose us?”
“I know it.”
I didn’t argue with Gamma. She wanted me out here, helping her with the Halloween decoration issue, and, quite frankly, there was nothing else for me to do, so why not? With Sasha locked up in the Rose Room, my chances of discovering her motive and means were slim.
“Here she comes,” Gamma said.
Violet strode across the grounds. She caught sight of us and faltered, but forged on. She reached her car, unlocked it, and got inside.
“Let’s go.”
Gamma and I rose as a unit and descended the steps as Violet started the Nissan’s engine. My grandmother tossed me the keys, and I unlocked the Mini-Cooper.
Violet, in a panic at the sight of us moving to the car, did a wheelspin out of the parking space. She careened toward the exit, nearly losing control at the exit.
I was in the car, seatbelt on, and after her in a matter of seconds. My heart pounded against my rib cage.
What if I didn't catch her? What if I failed at this too?
Stop it.
I drove the Mini-Cooper as precisely as possible, encouraged by my grandmother’s silence. She wouldn’t talk unless it was to correct me, so I had to be doing something right. I kept sight of Violet’s car, though she tried her best to lose me in the middle of town.
We raced down Main Street, past quaint shops, the salon, and several stunned locals who stopped to yell or turn their heads at the unnecessary speed.
After several twists and turns, rights and lefts, Violet brought her car to a halt outside the last place I’d expected…
Jessie Belle-Blue’s witchy-looking guesthouse.
Unlike me, Gamma’s facial expression said she’d expected exactly this. She glared through the passenger window as Violet got out of her Nissan.
Belle-Blue, wearing a black lacy pashmina today, emerged from the guesthouse and strode down the stepping stone front path.
“Uh oh,” I said.
Gamma didn’t reply. She stormed across the street, not bothering to look left or right. Violet cringed before her, halfway toward the guesthouse, but Gamma didn’t pay her any mind.
She was a homing missile, and Belle-Blue was her target.
I darted out of the car. If I didn’t stop her, this could get real ugly, real fast.
“You’d better not set foot on my property, Franklin,” Jessie snapped, brushing fingers through her auburn bob. “I’ll call the police.”
“Call the police?” Gamma stopped in front of the picket fence, drawing herself up and towering over Belle-Blue. “You’re the thief.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I have video footage of your accomplice stealing my Halloween decor!” Gamma cast a hand outward, in Violet’s direction.
The baseball star froze and shrank in on herself.
“What?” Jessie’s sharp gaze swung toward the other woman. “You… what?”
Violet shook her head, meekly.
“So, what is it, Belle-Blue?” Gamma asked. “You couldn’t afford your own decorations? Or you just wanted to sabotage me so that you could draw in more customers? And after everything I’ve done for you. Unbelievable.”
Violet whimpered, but Jessie held strong. “You can’t prove anything. And you haven’t done anything for me.”
“Quinton would beg to differ.”
“Don’t!”
“What’s wrong, Belle-Blue? Planning on running for the town council?” Gamma asked. “Don’t want your reputation tarnished by your ex-con relative?”
“Like I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But that came from between gritted teeth.
“I can talk to the cops,” Gamma said, cold as ice. “I can show them the footage. I’m sure that Violet won’t want to take the heat for this. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Walker?”
“I—I didn’t want to do any of it.” Violet’s whisper was pathetic. “Please, Mrs. Franklin. I didn’t want to—”
“Shut up!” Belle-Blue roared.
“She said that she would report my son to Detective Goode if I didn’t.”
“Report your son?” I asked.
Violet glanced toward me. Jessie Belle-Blue didn’t.
“Yes. My darling boy, Brad.”
Brad Walker. Shoot, he was the one at the wedding. The one who was an infamous lothario in high school. “Why?”
“Shut up!” Jessie repeated.
“Because he was in love with Julia,” Violet cried. “He planned on objecting at the wedding, and I’d told Jessie all about it. She’s been holding it over my head ever since, threatening to tell the police, even though Brad wouldn’t hurt a fly. He wasn’t even at the wedding in the first place. He couldn’t have done it.”
Gamma didn’t seem as stunned by the revelation as I was. “You’re done,” she said, pointing at Jessie. “I’m going to take you to court for this.”
“I’ll deny everything,” she said. “I’ll deny it all.”
“You blackmailed Violet and you made her steal the Halloween decor from the inn,” I snapped. “You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“I’m not showing you mercy this time, Belle-Blue.”
Jessie opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.
“Come on, Charlotte,” Gamma said, and started across the street.
“You can’t prove anything,” Belle-Blue shouted. “You can’t prove it.”
“We’ll see about that.” I followed my grandmother back to the Mini-Cooper, turning the new information over in my mind.
Brad Walker had been having an affair with Julia? Was it true?