The night of the Halloween party…
I had dressed in my creepy maid outfit and taken the guests on a special ghost tour, complete with Quinton’s husky, Charleston, out in the grounds posing as the werewolf. It had been a resounding success with the guests, but I’d never been so down.
I was sure that my assumptions were correct. But how to prove it? How to make sure that I got the evidence I needed?
The guests partied in the dining room, all the chairs pushed back so they could take advantage of the impromptu dance floor. Music thumped away, and Lauren delivered mock-tails and custard slices, dressed as a zombie.
Gamma was on the phone out on the inn’s front porch. She had yet to hear back from her people in New York.
Mr. Knowles sat at one of the tables, looking eternally bored, while Mrs. Knowles harangued him. Bella danced, occasionally glancing over and trying to catch Mr. Knowles’ attention.
There was definitely something going on.
I can’t fail again. If Detective Goode thought he had the real killer, he might let the other guests leave. The investigation would be closed. Mr. Knowles and Bella would get away, and then what? There was no telling what would happen.
What if they murdered Mrs. Knowles?
No, but surely they would’ve done that already. It seemed that Mr. Knowles wanted to maintain the status quo, possibly because he wasn’t in Mrs. Knowles’ will?
Hearsay. You don’t have anything.
But I could have something if I checked out the Green Room, where the Knowles’ were staying. The thought came unbidden. A dark, despicable thought that sent a thrill of excitement down my spine.
If I found evidence, then surely Gamma would help me bring the pair down? Knowles and Bella.
I couldn’t just give Goode the journal and the cat hairs and the peach handkerchief alone, even with all of that, it didn’t prove anything.
If only I could find the murder weapon. Tie Mr. Knowles to the back of that town hall at the time of the murder. Show that he had intent.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
A tiny meow sounded from the landing above me.
I glanced up and found Snowy, the supposed phantom cat, peering down from above.
“Hey,” I whispered, and started up toward her.
She purred and butted against my legs, happily.
“There you are. I wondered where you got to the other day. Have you been good? Not attacking anyone’s ankles?” Snowy clearly had good taste in targets since Violet had been stealing from the inn. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “I could get you some food.”
Snowy meowed at me and padded off down the hall. I followed her, unsurprised when she scratched at the door to the Green Room.
Since I’d last dusted and neatened up, I hadn’t been allowed in again. There was always a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door.
I glanced both ways before removing the master key ring from my apron. “I might get in trouble for this, you know.” But it was a chance I was willing to take.
Snowy darted into the room the minute it had opened and leaped onto the white pillow on the king-sized four poster bed. No wonder Mrs. Knowles had been having issues with her allergies. It was a miracle she hadn’t found any cat hair in here.
Perhaps, Mr. Knowles had been cleaning up after Snowy? Or Mrs. Knowles was sufficiently self-involved.
I shut the bedroom door carefully and began my search of the room. Even if I found nothing, at least I could say I had tried.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, a text message, but I ignored it and started opening drawers, rifling through the closet, even going as far as to check the bathroom, always closing everything carefully after I was done. The goal was to ensure that Mr. and Mrs. Knowles would never know I had been in here.
I strode back across the room, frowning at the lack of evidence. The scrape of a key in the lock washed me in cold fear.
Someone was coming into the room.
My training kicked in.
I dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed, adrenaline pulsing.
The door opened, the bedroom light clicked on, and two pairs of feet entered the room. The scent of sandalwood assaulted my nose.
“We can’t do this,” Mr. Knowles said, his voice rough. “I told you we need to talk later. She could find us at… what the heck?”
“What?” Bella’s reply. “What is it?”
“My cat,” he said. “How did she get in here?”
I’d forgotten that I’d let Snowy in here. But at least it was confirmation that it was, indeed, Mr. Knowles’ cat.
“I have no idea,” Bella said, “and it seems like a pretty irrelevant thing to worry about. We have to decide what we’re going to do next.” Gone was the sweet, shy Bella. Had it been an act? She sounded commanding now. Like the person in charge rather than the one who’d went along with a murder plot, as I’d assumed.
“You can’t keep pushing like this,” Mr. Knowles said.
“Have I failed so far?” Bella asked.
I wormed my phone out of my pocket, ever so carefully, taking tiny breaths with every movement. I ensured the phone was on silent, the screen on it’s lowest brightness, then navigated to the recording app. I hit the button.
Give me something I can use. Please.
This had been the most challenging case I’d taken on so far.
I frowned at the flashing notification indicator in the top corner of my screen. Carefully, I pulled the tab down and read the message I’d received earlier.
It was from my grandmother, and my heart skipped a beat.
Heard from my contacts in New York. Timothy Knowles was a retired police officer. He’s also a prepper. Keeps to himself.
A prepper?
But preppers kept plenty of equipment. End of the world style stuff. Guns and—
“We shouldn’t be talking, regardless,” Mr. Knowles said.
“Timothy, you’ve got to relax.” Bella placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re in the clear, now. They arrested Sasha. If I’d never tipped them off about the custard slice… I told you I’d take care of it.”
“Yeah, well, that’s pretty confident coming from a woman who was in tears the other day. You were terrified they’d catch us and now—”
“All it took was a hint and a picture.”
“A picture of what?” Mr. Knowles asked.
A heavy silence followed.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“A picture of what?”
“Timothy.”
“Tell me.” He strode toward her, and from the way she jerked toward him, I assumed he had grabbed her. “I’m tired of you hiding things from me.”
“I showed them a picture of Julia's journal. Said I had taken it before she’d died. Just a picture of that one line, talking about how Sasha owed her money. That’s all.” Bella didn’t sound as confident now.
“You told me you destroyed the journal,” Mr. Knowles said.
“I needed to make sure that Sasha would take the fall. I had to have insurance.”
Mr. Knowles released her. “You’re an idiot.”
“What? Timothy!”
“You realize they can check the date the picture was taken on your phone, right? They can do that kind of thing. Tell me you didn’t give them your phone.”
“Uh…”
“Tell me you didn’t.”
“It’s no big deal. They think it was her.”
Timothy strode across the room, grabbed hold of the dresser and pulled it onto its side with a fantastic crash. Snowy darted underneath the bed and pressed herself against my side.
“You’ve ruined everything,” Timothy said.
Bella had backed against the door. “Calm down.” But her voice warbled. “You’re becoming unreasonable.”
“I got rid of the gun,” he growled. “I got rid of the night vision goggles. My most expensive gear! I did everything, and you throw it all away with a picture? Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
“Listen, they have no idea. They took the picture.”
“They gave you your phone back?”
“Well, no, but… I deleted all our text messages and stuff.”
“They can scrape your phone for messages.”
“No way.”
“What did you say to them about the phone? What permissions did you give them?” Timothy asked, sounding on the brink of yet another temper tantrum.
“I just said they could take what they needed.”
Timothy let out a feral roar.
OK, so Mr. Knowles had a temper.
Snowy meowed, fearfully, and I carefully laid a hand on her, stopping the recording on my phone simultaneously. I had what I needed. Now, I had to deal with whatever happened next. I placed my phone in my pocket and prepared myself, keeping myself in a state of awareness rather than tension.
“You’ve ruined the plan,” Knowles said.
“I haven’t,” Bella whispered. “Baby, I swear, they’ll just take what they need about Sasha and give the phone back to me. I swear. I know that you think this is bad, but…”
“I’ve done my part. I convinced Sarah-Lin to change her will. I’ve got everything ready for the next steps. We can’t do anything now. They’ll find out. They know.”
“Stop it. You’re scaring me.”
Mr. Knowles strode toward Bella, in what I could only assume was a threatening fashion. Now, was my chance. I could worm out of here and—
The bedroom door burst inward, and a pair of black heels entered the room. A strangle gasp rang out and Mr. Knowles dropped to the floor. Bella screeched, but that too, was cut off as she fell.
Both of them lay, eyes closed, out cold, with blow darts sticking out of their necks.
“That probably wasn’t the best idea,” Gamma said, as she bent and removed the darts, carefully, “but the police are on their way and I wanted to prevent further damage. Come out from under the bed, Charlotte.”
I didn’t bother asking how she’d known I was under the bed.
I scooched out from underneath it, joined by Snowy, and walked over to Gamma, who wore a somber vampire outfit. “I got everything on a recording,” I said. “It was them. They were going to kill Mrs. Knowles next, I’m pretty sure. You called the cops?”
“No, but Roberta from the antique store called and told me that they’re on their way. She heard it from Nancy’s cousin’s uncle, who works next-door to the police station.”
The wail of sirens from downstairs floated up.
“What do we do about this?” I asked, pointing to the two, who were out cold.
“They’ll come around in about five,” my grandmother said, as she tucked her blow dart pipe back into the corset of her dress. “We’d better stall the detectives until then.”
I picked up Snowy and brought her out of the room to save her the stress, then closed the door and followed my grandmother downstairs to face the music.
It took a hot minute for the truth to hit me.
I hadn’t failed. Barely. If not for my grandmother, things could’ve gone badly awry, but my instincts had been correct.
Mr. Knowles and Bella had conspired to murder not just Julia, but Mrs. Knowles too. And Sasha had tried her hand at getting rid of the bride so she wouldn’t have to pay back what she owed.
The case was done and dusted.
Now, I just had to deal with the insufferable detective. And figure out what I wanted out of my life in Gossip.
No big deal, right?