Chapter 61
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Annie said to Jon as they walked along the sidewalk. “You distract Elsie by chatting with her and I’ll look at the guest book and take some pictures on my phone. That way we can all look over the names later to see if any ring a bell. How does that sound?”
“Great plan,” Jon said. “I think I can do that.”
They walked up the sidewalk to the big sky blue gingerbread house. The only other house in the neighborhood that could compete with it in size and age would be Beatrice’s Victorian. The old iron gate creaked as they walked through it.
Jon rang the doorbell and Annie readied her phone in her hand. She didn’t want to be fussing with it when the time came to snap the photos.
Elsie answered the door. “Why, hello, Jon, Annie. Please come in.”
“Merry Christmas,” Jon said, and handed her the goodie bag Beatrice had made up for her. “From Bea.”
“Oh, isn’t that sweet!” she exclaimed. “Now, Jon, I know you’d like to see the new dining room. I’m so thrilled with the color, the floors, everything. Come on inside.”
Annie hung back in the foyer and headed for the guest book. She decided to work her way from the newest guest signatures to the last.
“Oh my!” she heard Jon exclaim. “What is the word for this color?”
“Chartreuse,” Elsie said.
“Did you choose the drapes? Impeccable.”
“I did,” she replied.
Jon laughed and their voices lowered as they moved further into the house.
Annie took the first photo without reading the names. She felt like she’d have to move quickly and couldn’t take the time to read the names, even though she desperately wanted to.
Click.
Her bag slid to the floor.
Turn the page. Click, click, click.
“Where did you ever get those prints?” Jon asked from afar.
Elsie’s answer was quieter. Annie couldn’t quite hear her.
Click, click, click.
Annie’s heart was racing. She would hate to get caught. How would she explain it?
She turned the page.
“The floors are remarkable. Who did you say did them, again?” Jon asked.
Click, click, click.
Annie turned another page.
“What are you doing?” The voice sounded from behind Annie and she gasped, slipping her phone into her pocket.
She turned to face a woman she didn’t recognize. “Excuse me?” Annie said.
“I asked you what you were doing,” the woman said. She was full of authority, even though she was thin and wiry. Even Annie could have knocked her down.
“Annie . . .” Jon poked his head into the room. “You simply have got to see what Elsie has done with this room.”
“Sure,” Annie said. “Friends,” she said vaguely, and pointed in the direction of Elsie and Jon, then gave a little wave to the woman as she walked into one of the tackiest rooms she’d ever seen in her life. She smiled and nodded, disappointed because she was certain she didn’t get to photograph all the names—but at least it was something to get started with.
“Would you like to stay for tea?” Elsie asked.
“I really need to get going,” Annie said.
“Me too,” Jon said. “Thanks for asking though. Can I take a rain check?”
“Absolutely. You too, of course, Annie,” she said.
“Sure thing,” Annie replied, thinking there was no way on God’s green earth that she’d sit down to tea in this overdecorated room. She’d lose her appetite. There was something to be said for the simplicity that her old friend Cookie Crandall used to talk about. She’d leave the tea and the B and B visits to Jon.
After Elsie saw them out and they were halfway to Beatrice’s house, Jon asked if she had gotten what they went there for.
Annie nodded. “Not all of the names, but those within the past few weeks, I’d say. And of course if our killer is there, we don’t know what name he or she would be using. So I don’t know if this exercise will do much good.”
“It’s worth a try,” Jon said.
When they turned the corner, there stood the woman who had caught Annie riffling through the register at the B and B. Annie smiled nervously and nodded at her.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I’m going to have to ask you for your phone.”
“Excuse me?” Annie said. “My phone? Why?”
“I saw you taking photos of the guest book. That’s private information,” she said, her chin quivering in anger. Or was it fear?
Jon laughed. “She was not taking pictures of the guest book. She was taking photos of the wallpaper for me.”
The woman looked confused. “But I could have sworn—” She stood in front of Annie.
“Step aside,” Annie said. “I’m not giving my phone to you, in any case.”
The woman stood her ground. “I can’t have people lurking around the place I’m staying. You understand.”
“We live here. Elsie is my friend. We were just visiting,” Jon said. “I don’t understand why it’s your concern.” His French accent was pronounced now. Beatrice always said she could tell when he was upset or stressed. It would thicken.
Annie’s hair pricked on the back of her neck. Little pings of intuition zipped through her body. What did this woman have to hide?
Annie walked around her and motioned for Jon to do the same. She turned around one more time and noticed the woman watching them walk away, her hound dog cheeks stiff with outrage.