“I knew these cameras would be worth their weight in gold,” Gamma said, the minute I entered the kitchen in the inn.
Lauren stood at the stove, stirring a pot of something fragrant and, I had no doubt, delicious. “It’s a shock, Georgina. Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely positive,” Gamma said. “I’d know that silhouette anywhere.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Lauren chewed her lip. “Oh, Georgina, it’s just that the local contestants, the ones from Gossip, have arranged a private meet-up at the Hungry Steer and I’d hate for it to be ruined by this new… uh, development.”
“Don’t you worry about that, Lauren,” Gamma said, raising her chin. “This information will go no further than you, me, and Charlotte.”
“Somebody want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
“Right. Yes. Of course. Wait here, Charlotte.” Gamma hurried from the room, leaving behind the scent of her light, lemony perfume.
I sat down at the kitchen table. “What’s for lunch today, Lauren?”
“I’m going to keep things simple,” she replied. “And we’re going to do double prep since I have that dinner meeting at the Hungry Steer. Corn chowder, hearty and delicious since today is cooler than usual, and then for dinner we’ll do a simple pasta bake with crusty bread from The Bread Factory.”
“Right. You have a dinner date,” I said. “Just for local contestants, you said?”
“Yes. Us Gossipers have to stick together, you know. With the Tri-State Baking Competition drawing in so many outside entrants, and with that grand prize, there’s bound to be people who want to cheat their way to the top. As much as I hate to say it.” She grimaced. “I try to think the best of everybody, Charlie, but you can’t deny that there are certain types who—”
“Mind if I accompany you this evening?” I asked, an idea occurring to me. Most of my suspects in the case were Gossip residents and baking competitors. This meeting sounded like the perfect opportunity to meet a few of them. Discover what they thought of Brenda’s death.
“Sure. I guess. It’s meant to be just for us contestants, but I’m sure it will be fine.”
“It might give me a lead on the missing recipe book,” I said.
“Oh right! Good idea. Then, why sure you can come, Charlie.”
Gamma bustled into the kitchen, carrying her laptop. She opened a video feed on the screen. “This,” she said, “is the footage from the side of the inn. It was taken late last night.”
“What did they capture?”
“Wait and see.”
I watched the screen, tension banding in my chest. If Gamma had called me back from my recon, it had to be important.
The shot was of the inn’s grounds, the greenhouse and distant trees that led toward the creek bordering the property. It was a view from the camera seated along the kitchen’s side of the inn.
“Watch this,” Gamma said, shifting in her seat.
In the distance, near the greenhouse, a figure walked into shot. The person was hunched over, wearing what looked like a giant poncho or a… no! It was a pashmina. And though the image wasn’t exactly clear, I recognized the bob.
“Belle-Blue!” I whispered. “What on earth is she doing?” The time stamp in the bottom left corner of the screen put the footage at 03:00 a.m..
Gamma shook her head.
Jessie hovered near the greenhouse for a second before wandering into the trees. She didn’t reappear.
“I knew she was up to something,” Gamma hissed. “This has got something to do with her judging the baking competition. I’m sure of it!”
“She might be spying on the inn. Trying to gather information.”
“Yes, of course, but she’s never done this before and she’s had ample opportunity. Why now? Why when she’s been announced as a judge of the competition? What is she after? Something doesn’t add up. I bet she was the one who murdered Brenda.”
“Georgina,” I said. “Let’s be serious.”
“I’m being serious.” But my grandmother didn’t add anything to the statement. Perhaps she realized that she’d gone too far.
While I’d love to help Gamma dig up dirt on her competitor, I didn’t see that it would be conducive to my investigation. Glendaree Bijon had paid me to do a job. And I had committed myself to finding Brenda’s murderer.
If only because I wanted to keep Gossip violence-free.
And what then? What happens when it’s deathly quiet for the next few months? What are you going to do with your life? Be a fake maid? Live in the inn?
Those were questions I was not ready nor willing to answer.
“Say, Georgina,” Lauren said, blowing on a spoonful of her chowder before taking a sip. “More salt. Say, Georgina.”
“Yes?”
“Did you check the footage from your camera on the night I saw the werewolf?”
Gamma and I shared a look.
“No. It hadn’t occurred to me.” Gamma clicked a few times on the laptop’s mouse pad. “But while we’re here, why not?”
“Great!” Lauren left her chowder to bubble and came over to join us, bracing either hand on the backs of our chairs. “You’ll see I was telling the truth. A werewolf. We’ll have to find a way to get rid of it, you know.”
I held back a sigh. Hopefully, the footage would show Lauren that she’d either imagined it or mistaken something innocuous for this “werewolf” she claimed to have seen.
Gamma brought up the footage from the other night, at around the time Lauren had arrived, also 03:00 a.m., oddly enough.
“There I am!” Lauren tapped my shoulder. “See?”
And indeed, the heavily pregnant chef waddled into view below the camera. Lauren froze on the bottom step, her eyes widening. She spun on the spot, turning to stare into the darkness, then threw up her hands.
“That’s when I screamed the first time. And there, see! There’s the wolf.”
Gamma and I both leaned in, squinting at the screen.
I gasped. “Well, I’ll be a donut’s hole.”
“Charlotte, that’s verging on inappropriate.”
“Sorry. I meant a cake’s slice?”
“Better.”
Under the trees, removed from the greenhouse in the inn’s grounds, lurked a large, hulking shape with glowing eyes. It took a single step forward, exposing a long gray snout, a massive paw. Onscreen Lauren turned and dashed up the kitchen steps, she fiddled with the door, frantically.
“That’s when I screamed the second time.”
The kitchen door opened, and the chef disappeared inside. The shape, the, well, it was a wolf-like shape, to be fair, retreated into the darkness again.
“That’s… OK.” There had to be a rational explanation for this. Werewolves didn’t exist.
“Interesting,” Gamma said. “A coyote, perhaps?”
“No! No way,” Lauren said. “I’ve seen one of those before and this wasn’t it. Rewind the footage, please, Georgina. See? Look there. The coloring is wrong.”
“Then what is it?” I asked my grandmother.
“I’m not sure. Some type of wild dog, perhaps?”
“Y’all are trying to be difficult.” Lauren walked back to her chowder, brushing her fingers over her pregnant belly, an air of triumph about her. “It’s a werewolf. Plain and simple.”