“Ah.I was wondering when you’d bring it up.I was thinking it’d surely be before you tried to rope that poor boy into your stupid plan.”
Tubbs’ anger flared.“Have any better ideas?I needmoney, Pamela.And Beth’s not using it.”
“Shut up,” she hissed, pushing to her feet.And there went the glasses and the bottle.“You shut up!”
“She wasn’t drunk,” he said, voice sharp and almost excited.He lumbered to his feet and I lost sight of them, Charlemagne’s hairless flank taking up the screen as he came out, almost a week ago, to see what his person was upset about.“She’d hit her head.She was dying when I saw her.”
“She wasn’t!She wasn’t!”Something thumped heavily and Pamela cried out.“How—”
“The coroner’s report noted head trauma.Bad enough that her skull was cracked.Bad enough that she would definitely die from it if left untreated.Why’d you burn her house down, Pamela?”Tubbs demanded.“You knew already, didn’t you?You knew what you’d done!”
“Shut up!”Her cry was shrill enough to rattle the tiny speakers on my laptop.“She wasn’t alive!She wasn’t!She fell when I tried to push her away!She wanted to hug me, to tell me it would be alright but she wasleavingus!It was all ruined!”Something crashed and Charlemagne in the past yowled, disappearing in flash from the screen.They weren’t there anymore but I could hear them fighting, Pamela sobbing wildly and Tubbs grunting, telling her to stop, to back off.
Then nothing.
Pamela uttered a soft, broken sob and hurried past, grabbing her purse from the table.She swung it over her arm and hit the laptop, knocking it to the floor and ending the recording.
Muffin scooted beside me on the floor, his huge body warm and grounding beside me.“Holy crap,” I muttered.“Holy, holy crap...”
***
ITEXTED HEATH.I have something you need to see.And maybe the MCU group?
His reply was almost immediate.No.Not again.Tell me you’re joking.
Leaving him on read, I hesitated then opened my email on my laptop.It was a bad idea and I knew it, but I saved everything on the flash drive to the cloud, password protecting it for all the good it would do then sent a link to Ben.The password is your favorite tea last week.
I really hoped I hadn’t remembered wrong and he really did like jasmine green tea.
Muffin perked up, ears forward, just a second before the doorbell chimed three times in quick succession.
“Holy hell, Heath,” I sighed, relief and excitement pulsing through me, making me shake.Pocketing the flash drive, I raced down the stairs in sock feet, slipping on the wood at the bottom, Muffin and Tony on my heels.I didn’t hesitate, throwing open the door as the bell chimed one more time.“You got here...”
Gwendolyn Terhune, dripping annoyance, eyed me from beneath perfectly plucked, arched brows.She was wearing the puffy coat from the jetty, the one I’d glimpsed in the trunk of her car.
She smiled, gesturing at the spitting weather behind her.“Care to let me in?It’s getting miserable out here.”
***
SETTLED IN THE SITTINGroom, no tea—Gwendolyn refused, not even politely, when I offered—we stared at one another across the heavily carved occasional table between us.“I’ll get right to the point, Damien.We’re leaving in the morning—flight’s at nine so we’re going to the airport at five.”She shook her head, scowling.“It’s ridiculous, having to go through all of that claptrap.We’re flying first class, for crying out loud!You’d think that would give us some grace but no, into the TSA lines with everyone else.”
The way she saideveryonewould’ve been funny if I hadn’t just learned her friend was a murderer.
Did she know?
She couldn’t know.
The coat.The lighter.The fight in the inn’s foyer...
We’d been quiet for too long.She was watching me, a tiny smile touching the corners of her mouth, softening her expression until it was almost kind.But only almost.She nodded towards the doorway where Muffin sat, ears pinned back as he stared at us.“I don’t think he likes me.”
“He’s had a rough year.”
“Haven’t we all.”She shifted her gaze back to me and let her smile curl.“You know, I think some tea does sound like a lovely idea after all.It’s been a long morning with packing, having a few phone interviews with some of the trade pubs and a lovely man writing a book about Hollywood tragedies.”She clicked her tongue, affecting sorrow.“I almost missed the call thanks to that Heath Nichols.He’s talking with Pamela at the moment.”Her smile was brief, wispy.“He just wouldn’t take no for an answer when she reminded him how late it is.Nearly nine!”
He must have gone from the station over to the inn almost immediately after I left.“Everything okay?”She followed me into the kitchen rather than waiting in the sitting room, setting off klaxons in my head.It took everything I had in me not to glance back at Gwendolyn—hell, not to just bolt out the backdoor.She didn’t reply for a long moment but I could hear her shifting around, the clink of Tony’s tags as she shooed him away with a hissedtch.
“That girl who caused such a fuss with Gerry the other day is telling tales,” she finally said.“Annmarie?Amelia?”
