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We waited outside of Patricia’s home until she left with one of her friends to go to the church where they held their meeting. It had a community garden where they would grow plants and flowers. I couldn’t imagine what was fun about meetings like that, but Castlefield was big on clubs. There were obviously a book club and garden club, but also a knitting club, a model trains club, a stone skipping club, and even a tree shaping club. The last one was actually quite cool and consisted of training living trees and plants to grow into certain shapes. It could be used to create art or furniture. That club had four members, and they’d formed—get it?—the club a year ago and still had very little to show for it, but this was a time-consuming hobby.
“My heart is racing,” Nick said. “Are we really doing this?”
“Yes. It’s time we get some answers instead of more questions.” I waited until Patricia and her friend were out of sight and then darted across the street, straight to the side of the house where there was a tall wooden gate that led to the garden.
“Okay, ready? No turning back now,” I said to Nick who had followed on my heels and was grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“I’m ready.” He bent forward.
“What are you doing?”
“You need to get over. Go ahead.”
I glanced at the gate and pushed it open.
Nick looked at it, then back at me. “I was testing you.” He slowly got back up. “You passed.”
“Right.” I walked ahead of him, smiling. I had to admit I was having more fun than I would have thought.
“Just remember to focus on the task,” Detective Black said, walking next to me. “Don’t let him distract you and don’t lower your guard completely. You never know.”
I had a small torch in my bag and got it out. Yellow roses were placed along the side of the house. It smelt sweet, much like Patricia’s perfume usually did. The few times that I had encountered her, I could smell her ten minutes before she arrived.
The gate closed with a bang, and I whirled around, my heart in my throat.
Nick cringed. “Sorry.”
“Let’s go,” I whispered. We made our way to the back of the house. There was a small patio with an iron table and four chairs. A plant with budding flowers was placed on the table. I shone the light in the window that looked out over the garden. It was the kitchen. The window itself was ajar.
“I’ll try the back door,” Nick whispered as he passed me. He walked soundlessly towards the door and tried it. “It’s locked.” Even partially hidden by darkness he looked handsome.
“Do you see a security system or cameras?” I asked as I pulled on the kitchen window. It was big enough for me to get through, but I’d end up on the counter tops. It wouldn’t be a graceful endeavour.
“No, I don’t see anything. Better try that window.” He stood next to me, his hands in his pockets.
“Why do I have to do it?” I asked.
“I doubt I’ll fit through there. Besides, this way I can keep watch for you.”
“I know that, but it would have been chivalrous to at least pretend you were coming with me.”
He smiled and stepped closer. “For good luck,” he said and kissed me ever so briefly on the lips.
My cheeks got warm, and I handed him my torch. “Hold this, I’m going in.” Before shyness made my whole body blush.
He pulled up one of the chairs and then held open the window as I got on the chair and leaned forward. I placed my hands on the clean counter and was relieved it wasn’t cluttered with dirty dishes. Broken plates were as much a sign of a break-in as getting caught.
I placed one knee on the windowsill, which hurt, and then pulled up my other leg. One foot was on the shiny counter that smelt like lemons while I swung my other foot over a kitchen roll and next to my other foot. I was now crouched on Patricia Woodsbury’s kitchen counter tops and kind of felt like a badass.
I jumped off and landed on the tiled floor with a thud. In one swift motion I stood up straight and looked at Nick.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I held up my thumb. “Torch,” I said.
He threw it at me, and I caught it.
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry.” The words managed to leave my throat calmly, despite my rapid heartbeat and the tingling sensation that came with intruding someone else’s personal space. I swallowed my fear and turned on the torch. The kitchen was tidy, almost sterile. She probably had a maid. I wiped the counter and checked all of the cupboards, making sure there were no murderous mushrooms. When I found nothing, I moved on to the corridor. The light was on, so I turned off my torch. Since I was most curious about their bedroom and bathroom, I headed straight upstairs where Detective Black was leaning against the wall. He nodded at me when I reached the landing.
I turned on my torch and went into the first room. It was an empty guest room. The second room was the bathroom. I opened the cupboards under the sink and put the small torch between my teeth as I opened my shoulder bag. From there I took the CSI gloves I had taken from my kitchen. They were actually just latex cleaning gloves.
“Bathrooms are always interesting rooms to check,” Detective Black said as he was crouched beside me.
“Except that Eleanor already checked.” And I indeed confirmed the pills for depression and the hemorrhoid cream. The sound of my footsteps was absorbed by the light yellow carpet. With hurried steps I reached the bedroom and closed the door behind me. The curtains were closed even though it was still light out. By the time Patricia would come back, it would be dark. My light scanned the big oak wardrobe and a black dress with a matching hat hung on the opened door. The tag was still on the dress. It was a funeral dress.
I wondered if she truly felt bad about Victor dying. She didn’t seem remorseful, but she was good at hiding her feelings. If she had poisoned him, would she have done it in this house? In their home?
After looking around the bedroom, I moved to what turned out to be Victor’s office. I imagined the police had already been here, but it wouldn’t hurt to look around, especially since he had been worried about something before he died. I checked his desk and found nothing but useless papers that told me nothing about any potential secrets. But as I was rummaging through a few files on his desk, I found a DVD of Screams in the Night. I swallowed. Coincidences didn’t exist in murder cases.
“This would imply that she hired Nick and wanted them to prove that the Pembroke was haunted,” Detective Black said.
“It would. Perhaps she had hoped that they wouldn’t find out about the poison, but she couldn’t exactly be sure when he would die or show symptoms. Or who he would be with. It was always a huge risk. Perhaps that’s why she wanted as many people as possible to think the Pembroke was haunted.” I still wasn’t sure about it. We needed more than just this. I took a picture of the DVD on the desk.
I looked around a bit longer, but found nothing and made my way down to the kitchen.
Nick looked relieved when he spotted me. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, I am.” I climbed back onto the counter while Nick held out his hand. I grabbed it and pushed my way through the window. “You know what, this whole breaking in thing is way more fun when fictional people do it.”
“Are you kidding? You’re doing great,” he said.
“Oh, oh.” I shrieked and fell forward as Nick tried to catch me. One thud later, and we were both lying on the patio, me on top of Nick.
Nick chuckled. “This is an interesting development.”
I felt my cheeks get warm again and smiled.
He looped his arms around me and rolled around so that I was now on the ground, and he was on top of me. He had his arm under my head, and grinned at me. “You look very beautiful,” he whispered before he kissed me. His lips were soft and warm. I kissed him back, holding him tight as I enjoyed the fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach.
When he broke away, I immediately missed the warmth and intimacy of the kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that ever since I first saw you,” he said.
“You did?”
“Oh, yeah.” He kissed me again, more briefly this time. Then he got to his feet and helped me up. “Did you find anything?”
I told him about the film.
“Damn, I can’t believe it. So she’s the killer?”
“I don’t know that yet. It looks that way, though I still feel like I don’t have all the pieces of the puzzle yet. Also, the DVD alone is suspicious, but circumstantial. Even if it might be enough to have Alistair ask some questions, we need more.”
Nick took a step aside and pointed at a wooden shed in the corner of the garden. “We haven’t checked there yet.”
“Do you really think she’d keep anything important in there?” I asked.
“Why not? It’s not the first place you’d think to look, is it?”
“True. Let’s go.” Nick was turning out to be a good partner, and not just because of his kissing skills.
The shed wasn’t locked, so we could go right in. I used my torch to provide light in the organised shed. There were a few cabinets and a table with pots and garden tools. At the back of one of the cabinets, I found a basket with Amanita mushrooms.
“Wow,” I said as I stared at the basket.
“What? Those are just mushrooms that grow in the woods,” Nick said.
“No, these are what killed Victor, and she has a basket of it right in her shed. That’s just—I mean—” my voice trailed off.
“So she is the killer then? Do we go to the police?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m going to solve this case, and once I have a confession, I’ll call Alistair.”
“You really are hell-bent on solving this case, huh?”
“Yes, I am.” And on showing up Alistair.
“So what’s next then?” Nick asked.
I took a picture of the basket and returned it to where we’d found it. “I’m going to have to find a way to get her to confess. Perhaps get her to attack me.”
“Whoa, what?”
“That’s how it happens in books. The main character confronts the killer, and the killer who sees her as an annoying meddler decides to kill her and get her out of the way, and just then the police show up and have all the proof they need.”
“Except you just said you didn’t want the police involved and also, this isn’t a story.”
“How do you know?” I said.
“Okay, look, how about this: we invite this Patricia to a neutral, public place and discuss the mushrooms. See what she says?”
“I need to rattle her cage, make her angry. Also, if I make her feel like I’ll be watching her, that I’ll keep on looking for clues, then she’ll feel cornered and snap. Hopefully.”
“Do you hear yourself? We don’t want her to snap, she might hurt you.”
“Yeah, but we still don’t have enough evidence to go to the police with and our only option right now is to get her to confess,” I said.
“Okay, let’s sleep on it, then. We don’t want to make any rash decisions. Come, let’s get out of here, I’ll walk you home.”
We still had very little to go on. I knew exactly what stupid Alistair would say. He’d babble about how it was all circumstantial, and that was after he’d bite my head off for snooping around. And then there was Mr Field, who had been spying on his cheating wife. Did he know who the killer was? Had he seen something? Should I talk to him about it?
“You’re frowning,” Nick said, bringing me back to reality. He grabbed my hand as we continued on our way to the bookshop.
It had been a while since I last held someone’s hand and it was nice. Somehow this had turned into the weirdest date ever, but also a very cool one. I squeezed his hand and decided to enjoy the moment while it lasted. I could always worry about murder and mayhem later.
“I had fun tonight,” Nick said as we were nearly at the bookshop.
“Me too.”
“I’ve never been part of a break in before,” he said.
“I hope it was all you’ve ever wanted and more.”
He chuckled. “It was certainly thrilling, and I particularly enjoyed the kissing part.”
“Yes, me too.”
He stopped and pulled me in closer. He kissed my cheek and then my lips. I was apprehensive about doing this sort of thing in public, especially in a village that thrived on gossip, but as soon as his lips touched mine, those worries washed away. The kiss was over too soon.
“I’ll see you around,” he said.
“See you.” I smiled.
It was getting dark now, and the sky had streaks of pink, as if someone had taken a brush to it. For a brief moment I felt happiness, but then Christina passed Nick and waved when we made eye contact. She had a big bag with her. “Listen,” she said as she reached me. “I heard all about your troubles with the law today, and I’ve come to report for friend duty.”
Inwardly, I groaned.
“I hope you don’t hate Alistair too much, but if you do, don’t take it out on me. You’re about the only friend I’ve got here. Also, I brought snacks.” She held out her bag to me, which contained a bag of Skittles, Snickers, marshmallows, and M&Ms.
I groaned even more on the inside. Why did she have to be so nice and cool? And why did Alistair have to be such a poopy face?
“Come on in,” I said.