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Rather than heading right to Jackie and start up with my questions, I took a seat at a table nearby, and adjusted my chair so I could study her while I pretended to review my notes.
I started at the beginning of the notebook and turned the pages, stopped at each one for close to a minute before turning the next page. Although my head tilted down as if reading, I focused my eyes on Jackie.
To me, she looked like she fully recovered from the trauma of finding her fiancé dead on the floor. She no longer sobbed and appeared to be in complete control of herself. In fact, she looked downright bored, as if she were sitting in a bus station waiting for the eight-fifteen to Albuquerque. Her eyes no longer glistened with tears, and they occasionally darted around the room to take in everything else going on around her.
Jackie crossed her arms and uncrossed them again. She gave the impression that she couldn’t decide how her body language would look to anyone else in the building. Like she tried a little bit too hard to play the role that she found herself in.
As to the other people in the room, she showed disinterest, if not disregard for each of us, and showed no initiative to interact with anyone.
“What’s going on? Are you checking her out?” Bozeman said as he pulled up a chair and joined me.
“Am I being too obvious about it?” I asked.
“No. Not really. I love the way you use the notebook as cover. Super discrete move,” he teased.
I chuckled. I would always count on Bozeman to break the tension.
“What’s the deal, Codi?” he asked.
“I finished talking to Brantley a moment ago.”
“I noticed. So now what?”
“Something is bugging me about her. Can you see where she’s sitting?” I asked.
“Of course. She’s right over by the wall. I would point at her, but that might break your cover.” Bozeman grinned at me. He enjoyed getting my goat occasionally.
“When I came back from interviewing the catering crew, I found her in the back corner. She looked like her world had ended, and I imagined for sure she would have an emotional breakdown. But now she’s over in that chair as composed as can be.”
“That’s all? You’re suspicious of her because she calmed down?”
“No,” I said, a little louder than I intended. Jackie looked at us for a moment and suddenly took an interest in her fingernail. I dropped my tone. “I’m also a little suspicious because she switched seats. She spent most of the night in the corner, and now she’s almost on the stage.”
Bozeman rubbed his chin, finally getting my gist. “You think when the lights left, she planted that note and didn’t make it back to her original seat before they returned?”
I nodded. “Something like that, sure. But plausible?”
“I’d say so. You going to ask her about her movements?”
“I certainly am,” I said.
“Before you do, I’d go check out her first chair.”
“Why?” I asked.
Bozeman smiled. “I assumed you were the one with the super observation skills.”
Calming myself, I took a moment, and before I spoke. When I looked over to where Jackie had been. I didn’t notice anything unusual at first glance.
“What am I looking for?” I asked, no longer desiring to figure the mystery out on my own.
“Does anything seem different to you about the table compared to the one next to it?” Bozeman asked.
I looked again. This time, instead of the chair alone, I expanded my view to the tables next to the chair. The table farthest away from the chair looked normal. I observed two candlesticks on either end, and its surface held two empty wineglasses. The black tablecloth draped over the table dropped halfway down to the floor. In contrast, the table next to the first contained a tablecloth that dropped to within an inch of the floor and looked askew from where I sat.
“I think I’m going to go for a stroll,” I said.
Leaving Bozeman at the table, I headed for Jackie’s chair. When I arrived, I sat down. I looked around the room to see if anything had noticed my trip, and when I saw no one looking at me, including Jackie, I took a peek under the table.
“Well, I’ll be a daughter of a gun,” I said to myself.
Obscured by the tablecloth was a picnic basket, with a stuffed terrier sticking out of the top. I reached in and extracted my find. I set the basket on the table, removed the dog, and looked inside. At the bottom of the basket was a cell phone, and I had a good idea of who owned it. I put the puppy under my arm, picked up the basket, and sought Amelia.
“Hey, I found something you lost,” I said as I approached Amelia.
She looked at me, at the basket, then at the stuffed dog under my arm. “Toto! Where did you find him?”
“He was in the picnic basket, just like when I saw him earlier this evening,” I said. “I also found something else.”
I opened the basket and extracted the phone. “Is this yours?”
Amelia opened her palm, expecting me to hand the phone to her, but I didn’t.
“You didn’t confirm that this is yours. Is it?”
“Open up the front. My driver’s license is in there.”
I opened the front cover of the light purple case and checked. From a slot, I extracted the license and confirmed it was Amelia’s.
“Can I have it back now?” she asked.
“Can we check one thing on it first?”
“What?” she said.
“If that app is on there to control the lights,” I answered.
“I don’t even know what the app is, so there’s no way it’s going to be on there,” she said.
She offered a good point. I didn’t know what the app was either, so I wouldn’t recognize it if I were staring right at it.
“You mind if Brantley takes a look?” I asked.
Amelia shrugged indifferently. “I don’t care. Knock yourself out.”
I waved at Brantley from across the room, got his attention, and motioned for him to join us.
“What?” Brantley said in a huff when he got to us.
I handed him the phone. “Can you see if the app Hawthorne uses on the lights is on this phone?”
He took the phone from me and swiped a finger across it. “It’s locked. How did you get this in here in the first place? You understand you can’t have phones here.”
Amelia shot him a coy smile, but didn’t answer.
I grabbed the phone from him and handed it to Amelia. “Do you mind?”
Amelia took the phone, entered her security code, then passed it back to Brantley. He accepted it, accessed the apps, and scrolled for a while.
“Yep, here it is,” he said as he handed the phone back to me.
I didn’t use a lot of apps, but this one wasn’t one I recognized as being in the mainstream. “Are you sure? I’ve never heard of this before.”
Brantley rolled his eyes at me. “Open it up and try it. Mr. Harris had it created specifically for this house. It’s not on the open market.”
I touched the icon that resembled a castle, and the app opened. Once it did, a little map opened up, and I spotted a blinking blue dot. I zoomed in on the dot and as I did; I saw the layout of the ballroom on the screen. Several icons appeared on the screen. I pushed on a light bulb icon, and when I did, a sliding scale appeared, with a bar all the way at the top. When I touched the bar and moved it down, the lights above dimmed. I pushed it back to full. I touched the icon next to it, and the gong sounded. Satisfied, I closed the app.
“This leads to my next question. Why is this on your phone?”
Amelia held out her hand, expecting the phone. “Beats me. Never seen it before. I didn’t even realize it was on there. You caught what Brantley said. It wasn’t something on the open market, so whoever put it on there needed knowledge of it. Knowledge that I don’t have. Besides, if I was involved in all this, do you think I’d be stupid enough to leave the app on there, then put my phone where anyone might find it? “
She had a valid point. But, then again, she might be playing me for a fool.
“Okay. Then how did it get there?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you. Like I said, I lost it earlier tonight.”
“Do you mind if I hold on to it?” I asked it as a question, but I didn’t intend to give it back to her.
“Sure, but you have to do something for me. Try to call for help.”
It wasn’t an unreasonable request, so I activated the phone and attempted to dial 911. The call never connected.
“No luck,” I said.
“Fine. Can you lock it again? I have information on there I’d prefer people not have access to.”
I didn’t think that was an unreasonable request, either, so I locked the screen, then shoved Amelia’s phone into my pocket.
“Can I have Toto back now?” Amelia asked.
I hadn’t realized I still had the toy under my arm in a death grip. Without comment, I handed her the dog and the basket.
“Thank you,” Amelia said.
I wanted to keep my focus on Jackie, turned and took two steps before I stopped and turned back to Amelia.
“When did you lose your basket?” I asked.
Amelia thought about it for almost a full minute. “Actually, I can’t quite put a finger on it.”
“Did you have it at dinner?” I asked, already knowing the answer, since I’d seen it when I first met her.
“Yes. I’m one hundred percent sure of it.”
“And then?”
Amelia considered it for another thirty seconds before answering. “I had it with me when we headed for drinks in the other room. I remember now. When we first came back here, just before your show, someone handed me a glass of champagne. I already had a glass, so I set the basket down next to me to take the glass.”
“Why’d you set the basket down?”
“I had to put it down to take the other glass.”
“Who gave it to you?” I asked, really wanting to learn the answer.
For the third time, Amelia thought it over. This time, the pause was unbearably long. “It was a man. Might have been Brantley or Danny, but I’m pretty certain Claude gave it to me.”
“How certain are you? Eighty percent? Ninety?”
“Fifty? Forty?” Amelia said.
Those weren’t the percentages I wanted. “Okay, thank you.”
At last, I left Amelia and strolled across the ballroom to where Jackie was sitting. She saw me coming, and I confirmed she was indeed playing me since, by the time I got to her, the tears started flowing again.
“Hey, you. How are you holding up?” I asked as I dragged a chair over and sat in front of her, knees to knees.
Jackie sniffed once, then again for effect. She didn’t fool me, but I let her think she had.
“I’m doing the best that I can considering... everything.”
“Why did you move to here?” I asked, getting right to the point.
“What?”
“When I last talked to you, you were sitting in the corner over by the window,” I said. I pointed in the general direction where I’d seen her last.
“I moved.”
“Yes, I saw that. Why?”
Jackie’s eyes moved from mine and appeared to focus on my right shoulder instead. I don’t know what she was thinking, but I guessed it wasn’t the truth.
“The storm,” she said finally. “Every time the thunder pealed, the window shook, and I got scared. I moved here instead.”
It was a possible truth, but her answer didn’t totally win me over. “Why didn’t you go sit with someone? There’s an entire group of people here who I’m sure would love to keep you company. And offer you support, of course.”
“No. These are all Hawthorne’s friends and associates. I wanted to invite a couple of girlfriends of mine. Emily, from the gym I attend. She’s my best friend. We talk every day. But Hawthorne said I couldn’t invite anyone because he had only a certain number of seats available at the table.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. I meant it. I’d seen people in that position several times over the course of my career. You put me on stage in any small venue where a group of people assembled, and I would always tell who the third wheel is, or who got a pity invite to the party. At the moment, Jackie was my number one suspect, but yet I felt empathy for her.
“That’s true. I wish Emily was here with me now. I could really use her hug. She gives great hugs. You ever have a friend who gives great hugs?”
I nodded. Gibson will always be my go-to person for hugs, followed closely by Dolly, with Merle bringing up the rear. Gibson never failed to purr the second I picked him up. I could always count on Dolly to wrap her cute humanoid hands around my index finger. Merle loved to nuzzle my neck and occasionally mistook my ear for a grub. Fortunately, he only ever gave me playful nibbles.
“But Hawthorne said no. Emily couldn’t come to the party.”
“Did that make you angry?” I asked, looking for a motive.
“At first. But then, when he said you would be here tonight, that made up for it. After all, I’ll see Emily at the gym tomorrow, right?” Jackie explained.
Unless she landed in jail.
“Did you have any other problems with Hawthorne? Any fights about marriage, or money, or living arrangements, or anything at all?” I asked.
“We argue sometimes,” she admitted. “Every couple does. Usually just about little things about what to have for dinner, or what dress he wanted me to wear to whatever event we went to. It’s always easy for a man, you know. They just have to put on a tuxedo and shiny shoes. We women have to worry about the right dress, and shoes, and jewelry. And perfect hair, and fancy nails, and smelling good. All that stuff, you know?”
I didn’t really know since I always had my performance persona to slip into and it never involved a dress. In my closet, pushed all the way to the side, stuffed in a garment bag, was my one dress. Knee length, and black of course, so I could wear it to one of the two events I had it for, either a wedding or a funeral. No fancy shoes, though. That’s why I had short black boots.
“Do you think I did this?” Jackie whispered.
“I’ll give it to you straight. You’re certainly a suspect. And near the top of the list.”
“You know, there’s someone in here who had a big grudge against Hawthorne.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Amelia Brown.”
That name surprised me. “Really? Why her?”
Jackie leaned forward. “I was supposed to be Hawthorne’s first wife, but I wasn’t his first fiancé.”
You’re telling me he was engaged to Amelia before you two got together?”
“Yes.”
Now I seemed speechless.
“Amelia never mentioned that to me.” I admitted.
“I’m not surprised,” Jackie said.
“Were they together long?”
Jackie smoothed the dress over her knees and removed a piece of black lint before she answered. “Three or four years.”
“She was his fiancé? Not just a girlfriend?”
“Nope. She had an enormous ring on her finger from him.”
“You’re sure?” I asked.
Jackie smiled, then wriggled the ring finger of her left hand. She wore at least two carets on that finger. “I’m sure. It looked exactly like this one.”
“No way,” I said. “That’s the same ring? He took it off her finger and put it on yours?”
“Yes. It was his mother’s. Or maybe his grandmother’s. I forget which.”
“Do you know what happened between them that caused the breakup?”
Jackie shook her head. “Not entirely, but I have my suspicions.”
I waited a beat for her to fill in more information, but she didn’t get the hint.
“What were they? Your suspicions? Did they have something to do with her being his accountant?”
“No. Amelia is a strong, independent, capable woman. Hawthorne is one of those old-fashioned men. And by old-fashioned, I meant it in the Biblical sense. Women should stay seen and not heard. Should be happy in the kitchen and be a baby incubator. I think Amelia bit off more than she could chew when they got together. I’ve heard she tried her best to play that role, but in the end, she wouldn’t do it. Amelia is too much of a modern woman to put up with his mindset for too long.”
“She broke off the engagement? Not him?” I asked.
“That’s what the rumor was around town. And since it’s such a small town, that rumor spread around like a wildfire.”
“How did he take that?”
“He tried to destroy her career for making him look bad. Threatened to take his business to other firms, and trust me, that would have sent her firm from riding high on the hog to right into the toilet.”
“But yet she’s still his accountant?” I asked. “And through all that, he still invited her to this party tonight?”
A small smile traversed Jackie’s face. “That’s where I came in. We met when he was still with her, and it didn’t take long to get this ring onto my finger.”
“He invited her here to make her jealous?” I asked.
Jackie nodded. “He had a mean streak that way.”
“Why did he keep her on then?”
“Because I think he’s still sleeping with her.”
That comment caused me to do a double take. “What? Do you know that for sure?”
“They worked a lot of long nights together, and usually when they did, they met at his office. Anyone else, they came here. He needed something from Danny, Loren, or even Helen, and they came here. To his office upstairs. But Amelia? Her, Hawthorne left the house for. That doesn’t quite add up, does it?”
It did not to me, and I wanted to go back and ask Amelia a few follow-up questions. I got up and made my way halfway across the room. Just as I hit the exact center of the room, the lights went out. Again. This time, I reacted and pulled Amelia’s phone from my pocket, intending to use the app to turn the lights back on. I opened the phone, encountered the lock screen, then shoved the phone back in my pocket. Before I could pull Laurel’s phone out and activate the flashlight, I heard a crash behind me, and a muffled squeak that sounded like a large mouse.
I moved back toward where I left Jackie, misjudged my steps, and ran right into a table, knocking the wind out of me.
It took me a couple of minutes to regain my composure, and when I was ready to resume my march, the lights suddenly lit and I could see again.
Jackie’s chair sat empty.
