At least I was spared the onerous duty of informing Jennifer and Tara about Lincoln’s death. Even in the small town of Beaufort, the authorities sent enough officers to swarm the backyard and the house, as well as two detectives, who immediately separated the staff and guests so they could interview each person individually. I didn’t even see Jennifer or Tara, who’d apparently been whisked away as soon as the police arrived.
After an ambulance had taken away Lincoln’s body, I slumped down into one of the library’s worn leather armchairs. I could barely remember what I’d told the investigator, a tall, regal, woman whose name was Detective Johnson. I just hoped I’d included all the pertinent facts.
The knife from the kitchen, the missing key, Damian Carr’s angry exit, the argument between Tara and her mother, Scott standing so close to the murder scene, and that snippet of conversation between Lincoln and Julie …I massaged the throbbing pain above my right eye with one finger. Had I told the detective all of that? I couldn’t remember. All I knew was that I hadn’t mentioned one other suspicious fact—Lincoln’s earlier hints that he had collected some dirt on Isabella Harrington.
I knew I probably should’ve said something, but somehow the idea that the investigation might expose my great-aunt’s secrets had silenced me. I needed to know more before opening that Pandora’s box.
I leaned into the chair’s high back and stared up at the web of fine cracks in the plaster ceiling. Detective Johnson had informed me that the guests would need to stay in town for at least a week. With the Big Rock tournament filling up all the local lodging, I knew they’d probably need to stay on at Chapters, even though that would undoubtedly be uncomfortable for Jennifer and Tara Delamont.
Not like it’s going to be a fun week for anyone, I thought. A fog of suspicion would undoubtedly envelop the entire party. Detective Johnson had promised to post a few officers near the carriage house and the house, so help would only be a quick call or a shout away, but still … I massaged my temples. If one of my guests had killed Lincoln, I’d be sharing my home with a murderer.
I jumped to my feet when Detective Johnson strode back into the room. “Our interviews are done. We’ll leave you and your guests in peace for now. Of course, we’ll continue our workout back. There’ll be a perimeter established around the carriage house, staffed with an officer, for at least a few days.”
I locked my knees to stiffen my wobbly legs. “I guess the locals can head home?”
The detective examined me. “Yes, but I’m afraid you do have to host the other guests for the remainder of the week. I made some calls, and there’s no place for them to go.”
“It’s fine. They’ve already paid, so at least it won’t cost them anything extra.”
Detective Johnson tapped her computer tablet with a stylus. “You will lose two guests. The Rowleys are going to stay on their yacht. Not surprising, given the circumstances. Of course, they’ve been warned not to leave the area until we finish our questioning.”
“And Mr. Kepler?”
“He said he wants to stay, but of course not in the carriage house. I suppose you can put him up in one of your rooms?”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Good. One of my officers will collect Mr. Kepler’s personal items from the carriage house. We need to ensure that the scene isn’t disturbed.”
And give your officers time to search the area.I nodded instead of voicing this thought.
Detective Johnson tipped her head. “Is there something else you wish to share with me, Ms. Reed?”
I swallowed the ball of bile lodged in my throat. “No.”
“I just thought you seemed to have something else on your mind when we talked. But if you say there’s nothing …” The detective slipped her tablet into an inside pocket of her tailored jacket.
“I can’t think of anything right now,” I said, fighting my urge to blurt out Lincoln Delamont’s hints about a scandal in my great-aunt’s past. “But I promise, if I remember anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head back out to the scene. I suggest locking up after Mr. Kepler comes in, but don’t worry—my officers will keep watch tonight. If anything suspicious occurs later, anything at all, just remember that help will be standing right outside your back door.”
I bobbed my head. “Thanks, that’s comforting. But I’m not really worried.” I was surprised to admit that this was true. Although Alicia was still on my suspect list, along with everyone else at the party, I didn’t feel personally threatened. If Alicia had murdered Lincoln Delamont, it would’ve been done to silence him before he could reveal salacious information about Isabella, not because she was some crazed serial killer.
Same with the others, I realized. Whoever had killed Lincoln had obviously wanted him dead for a very specific reason. The murderer probably had no inclination to kill anyone else. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek.Hopefully.
“Good. If it makes you feel better, I can say that at this point we have no evidence to suggest that anyone at the party is a prime suspect,” Detective Johnson said. “Although of course we will continue to investigate every angle, including the possibility that it could’ve been a random attack, or an unknown individual with a vendetta against Mr. Delamont who had tracked him here.”
“I’ve also wondered if it could’ve been an outsider.” I forgave myself for the lie because, while I hadn’t actually considered thatangle, it was definitely another logical option. “I can’t imagine anyone who was at Chapters tonight wanting to kill …”
“Liar!” Tara Delamont stormed into the room, followed closely by her distraught mother, who, except for the scarf covering her hair, was now wearing her street clothes. I assumed the police had allowed her to change once they’d questioned her.
But Tara was still in costume. One of her thin braids had slipped free of her carefully arranged hairdo, and she tossed it behind her shoulder before rubbing the back of one hand over her mascara-stained cheek. “She’s the one you should lock up.”
While Detective Johnson looked on with interest, Tara stabbed her forefinger at me. “I bet she killed him, and I know exactly why.”
Chapter Seven
To her credit, Detective Johnson didn’t even blink.
