As we drove from Morehead City to Beaufort, I finally remembered a question I’d meant to ask Ellen but kept forgetting.
“By the way, since you’ve lived in Beaufort for quite some time and seem in touch with the local gossip, I wondered if you’d heard anything about Pete and Sandy’s daughter, Liza, being mixed up in some sort of bad romantic relationship. Before her marriage, of course.”
Ellen shot me a side-eyed glance. “I may have heard something from Isabella.”
“She found out something from the book club?”
“Yes. Apparently, Pete broke down during one of their meetings. Sandy wasn’t present, which Isabella said was a good thing. Anyway, they were reading Anna Karenina and got into a discussion about adultery and doomed love affairs, and it set Pete off. He fled the library, obviously distressed, and Isabella followed to make sure he was okay.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “Did Pete tell her what was wrong?”
Ellen turned her head to stare out the side window as we crossed the bridge into Beaufort. “He said he was afraid Liza was involved with an older man. A much older, married man.”
“I thought that might have been the case, because I heard something from Julie that ties in with that,” I said, before telling Ellen about Julie’s anonymous caller.
“You think Liza could’ve been in a secret relationship with Lincoln Delamont? That would definitely give Pete a motive to kill him,” Ellen said, when I’d concluded my account. “He’s very protective of his girls.”
“Especially if Lincoln was abusive.” I lifted one hand off the wheel and flexed my cramped fingers. “It just seems to fit. The caller claimed that Lincoln could be abusive, like she was warning Julie to be careful. And Julie didn’t want to mention her name, which would make sense if it was Liza. Pete and Sandy are her friends. She wouldn’t want to draw their daughter into the murder investigation if she could help it.”
“And you said Julie claimed that the caller wasn’t in the area now, which would also fit.”
“Yes, Liza’s actually living overseas at the moment.” I glanced over at Ellen. “Her husband’s in the Navy.”
“That’s right, Liza is married. Which is probably another reason Julie wants to keep her identity a secret.”
“Probably.” I flexed my other hand. “Even though it might help her own situation. But that’s Julie for you—more concerned about others than herself.”
“I expect Lincoln Delamont realized that and exploited it,” Ellen said darkly. “He probably told her sob stories about his marriage and his past.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said, remembering that Lincoln’s parents had supposedly died when he was barely in his twenties. “Anyway, we don’t know any of this for certain, but if it is true, it does make Pete a more viable suspect in Lincoln’s death.
“Unfortunately,” Ellen said. “It also makes me think that whoever killed him did the world a favor.”
I flashed a wry smile. “Maybe, but perhaps we shouldn’t share that with the authorities.”
“Probably not our best move,” Ellen said.
Parking on the street near the police department, I debated aloud whether this was a good idea. Just dropping in on the police had seemed sensible while we were driving back to Beaufort, but now I wondered if it would simply waste their time.
“Don’t be silly,” Ellen told me, as she strode into the station. “This a murder investigation. They’ll want all the information they can get.”
The friendly young woman at the information window confirmed Ellen’s claim.
“Let me see who’s available,” she said. “If you like, you can wait in the conference room.” She pointed across the hall to the only other door outside the locked perimeter of the actual station.
Sitting at the table in the conference room, I couldn’t help but think how its modern blandness contrasted with the historic, mysterious air of the fort we’d just left. Like leaping through time, I thought, as the inner door of the room opened.
Detective Johnson walked in and grabbed a chair across from Ellen and me. “Hello, what can I do for you ladies today?”
“I hope we can do something for you,” I said, before recounting the events of the cocktail party and my adventure at Fort Macon.
“You really believe someone was following you?” Detective Johnson arched her dark brows.
I shifted in the hard chair. “Yes, and I think it may have been someone from the party. Whoever was eavesdropping from behind the hedge. They’d have known where I planned to be, and when.”
“But to play devil’s advocate”—Detective Johnson tapped her pen against her legal pad—“you have to consider the possibility that the individual at Fort Macon was just a random stranger who gets a kick out of scaring tourists.”
“I suppose,” I said slowly, realizing I might have jumped to conclusions again.
“Those sorts of things do happen,” Detective Johnson said. “More than you’d expect.”
Ellen cleared her throat. When the detective’s gaze slid over to her, she leaned forward, her expression intense. “That may be, but someone definitely overheard our conversation last night. I find that to be a strange coincidence, don’t you?”
“Are you sure about that? The eavesdropper, I mean. Perhaps one of the guests was simply loitering at the edge of this holly hedge. It is near the patio.” Detective Johnson sat back in her chair, her intelligent gaze studying Ellen.
“I’m absolutely sure. If you must know, I have experience with noticing such things,” Ellen said.
“Oh? What would that be?”
I glanced at Ellen, waiting for her nod of approval before I spoke. “Ms. Montgomery used to work for a branch of the U.S. intelligence services.”
Detective Johnson’s dark eyes narrowed. “Is that so? I don’t suppose you have any credentials on you?”
Ellen lifted her hands. “I’m retired. But I can give you a contact number, if you’d like to confirm my previous experience. Not all the details, of course,” she added, with a sardonic smile. “But they’ll have my name in their records.”
“Interesting,” Detective Johnson said, twirling the pen between her fingers for a moment before holding out her hand.
Ellen fished a card from her purse and slid it across the table. Glancing at it, the detective raised her eyebrows again before standing.
“Be right back,” she said, as she headed into the station.
“I’m not sure she thinks my encounter at Fort Macon is connected to anything,” I told Ellen as we waited for the detective’s return.
“Oh, I think she is considering all the possibilities,” Ellen replied. “She seems to be too intelligent to reject any leads out of hand.”
Detective Johnson returned a few minutes later. “One of our officers is checking on your credentials, Ms. Montgomery. I hope you don’t mind.”
Ellen shrugged. “Of course not. Although I’m not sure what my former job has to do with anything.”
“You never know,” the detective said as she sat down. “We may need a consultant on some other matters. But back to the case at hand. You two seem to have been playing at investigating, which I’m sure is amusing, but as you can see, might also be dangerous. If your stranger at the fort did happen to be Lincoln Delamont’s killer, you could have put yourself in harm’s way.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “The thing is, we know the eavesdropper wasn’t Jennifer Delamont, since she had already been escorted to her room at that point, and I doubt she was in any shape to sneak back outside. Which blows my theory of her being the killer out of the water.”
“That is, if there is any correlation between this eavesdropper and the individual at Fort Macon,” Detective Johnson said. “And even if that’s true, it doesn’t mean that the same person killed Lincoln Delamont, now, does it? Chasing you around a historic site isn’t really proof of anything.”
I ground my teeth in frustration, but had to admit she had a point. There was nothing that absolutely linked any of these actions or events.
“True, it could be simple coincidence.” Ellen straightened in her chair and looked the detective over in a way that made her appear more like an interrogator than a witness. “However, in my previous job I learned that seemingly unrelated occurrences could prove to be valuable clues. It’s worth a little of your official investigation time, don’t you think?”
“Oh, rest assured we’ll look into it.” Detective Johnson’s gaze slid from Ellen to me. She appeared lost in thought for moment as she examined me. “Now, Ms. Reed, tell me a little more about your plans for the rest of this week. Any more events on the schedule?”
“Only one,” I said, and described the Tey discussion planned for Saturday evening.
Detective Johnson stared at a point over my head. “And your guests have agreed to participate in this event?”
“Yes, all except Tara Delamont. But I believe you’ve already cleared her.”
“We have.” Detective Johnson appeared lost in thought for a moment. “You’ll be talking about murder mysteries as part of this discussion?”
“That’s what Tey wrote. Well, she also wrote plays and a few other novels too, but we won’t be talking about those. We’ll be focusing on the mysteries.”
“Interesting. I almost wish I could join you. I’m particularly fond of Tey’s A Shilling for Candles.” Detective Johnson grinned. “I like a good mystery read myself.”
“I guess that isn’t surprising, although I suppose they aren’t much like actual police work,” Ellen said.
“Which is why I like them, to be honest. Real police work is quite different.”
Ellen nodded. “Same in my previous profession. Days or months or even years of tedious legwork, research, and surveillance, punctuated by explosions of violent activity.”
“Exactly.” Detective Johnson tapped the pen against her jaw. “I wonder … just how far are you willing to go to help the police in this matter, Ms. Reed?”
Before I could answer, a young man poked his head around the door and gave Detective Johnson a thumbs-up gesture as he handed her Ellen’s card.
“Well, well,” the detective said, sliding the card back across the table. “The things you find out about people.”
“They constantly amaze, don’t they?” Ellen said, her expression mild as milk. “But now I’m curious about what you want Charlotte to do. I hope it’s not something that will place her in danger.”
Detective Johnson looked from Ellen to me. “I would definitely try to avoid that, but I admit it might put her in a rather tricky position.”
“What exactly are you talking about?” I asked. For the sake of Chapters’ reputation, as well as clearing Julie and my own peace of mind, I was willing to take a reasonable risk, but I didn’t want to agree to anything that might get me killed.
“Well, it just struck me that you are in an envious position to help us try to expose our killer. You are hosting an event where most of the original guests will be present. Except for Tara Delamont, of course, but as you said, we’ve ruled her out as a suspect.” Detective Johnson cast us a knowing smile. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the girl was able to prove that she was on her cell phone secretly talking with a boy—someone her parents had forbidden her to contact, which was why she was reluctant to tell us when we first questioned her. This call took place during the time we’ve pinpointed for Lincoln Delamont’s murder. She even took some selfies right before the call, and they show a background that matches her room at Chapters. So we have records of her exact location, and she was nowhere near the carriage house.”
“That’s a relief,” I said.
“I thought so too.” Detective Johnson sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. “But we’re still looking into her mother and some of the other guests and staff, and frankly, we seem to have hit a brick wall. We really have to allow the out-of-town guests to leave Beaufort if we don’t get better intel soon, so I thought”—she tipped her head and examined me intently—“maybe this event of yours could help us gather some more information.”
“How?” I glanced over at Ellen, who was staring at the detective with a furrowed brow.
“If you were to ask some specific questions related to Tey’s books but also associated with aspects of Delamont’s murder, maybe somebody would slip up and say something that could give us a new lead.”
“You mean link the books to the real-life murder?”
“Subtly, but yes.” Detective Johnson dropped her arms and leaned forward. “We could help you craft a few leading questions.”
“But even if someone slipped up and said something compromising, that would be secondhand information,” Ellen said. “Sure, Charlotte could testify to hearing it, as could some of the other guests—including me, since I plan to attend. But would that hold up? It wouldn’t be a direct confession to law enforcement.”
Detective Johnson’s dark eyes flashed. “It would if Ms. Reed was wearing a wire.”
“What?” I couldn’t keep a squeak out of my voice. Yes, I wanted to help, but wearing a wire like some sort of spy wasn’t what I’d had in mind.
Fortunately, I was sitting next to an actual spy. Who lifted one hand and said, “Hold it right there. I don’t think that’s something Charlotte should be asked to do. It’s a lot trickier than they make it look on TV, you know.”
“Yes, I’m aware. But it seems like the best way to get a handle on this case,” Detective Johnson said, her tone apologetic. “At least, it’s a golden opportunity for pushing these people to talk.”
“That may be, but you want to do this right. I suggest”—Ellen extended her hand, palm up, as if offering a gift—“that you wire me instead. I will be there, and I have done this sort of thing before.”
Detective Johnson stared speculatively at Ellen. “I suppose you have. Very well. That actually solves the problem of when and where to get someone hooked up. We can come to your house before you head over to Chapters and avoid the problem of the other guests noticing strangers wandering around the bed-and-breakfast.”
“But won’t you need to be nearby anyway?” I asked, my mind reeling from the idea that an undercover operation was being planned for my home.
“Yes, but we can be down the block in an unmarked van,” the detective replied. “The state bureau of investigation can lend us equipment and any special expertise if we need it. The county sheriff’s office will help too, if we ask.”
I turned to Ellen. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“I am. Don’t worry,” Ellen said, giving me a pat on the arm. “I really have done this before. Many times, if I’m honest. It’s been a while, but it’s not something that one forgets.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll help with the questions if Ellen will wear the wire.” Meeting Detective Johnson’s approving gaze, I pointed a finger at her. “But you’d better promise to show up immediately if you hear anything threatening. I don’t want Ellen, or anyone else, hurt.”
“We’ll have a team at the ready,” Detective Johnson said. “First sign of trouble and we’ll be there.”
“Okay.” I inhaled deeply. “I guess you’d better give me those leading questions.”
“I’ll have the team work on them tonight, and we’ll email you as soon as they’re ready.”
“That should work,” I said.
Detective Johnson rose to her feet. “Good. Just leave your email address with the receptionist. Now, I’ll wish you a pleasant evening, and again, thank you.” She looked at Ellen. “Leave your phone number at the front desk too, Ms. Montgomery, so we can set up all the details of fitting you up with the wire. And thank you as well.”
“Always happy to be of service,” Ellen said as the detective left the room.
I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. “Have to check to make sure I don’t have a fever,” I told Ellen when she cast me a concerned look. “Because this whole situation has me feeling like I’m delirious.”
“I know it must seem strange, but I’m confident you’ll manage,” Ellen said, as we exited the conference room. I provided the receptionist with my email, and Ellen left her number before we headed out the front doors of the station.
“Don’t you find this all the least little bit overwhelming?” I asked as we walked to my car.
Ellen shook her head. “After what I’ve seen in my life? Hardly. Just another day at the office.”