Ellen’s expression grew thoughtful. “When you saw her later, was she still in her costume?”
“Yes.”
“Any visible bloodstains?”
“No, Tara’s costume was perfectly clean and dry.” I widened my eyes. Why hadn’t I thought of that? The killer would likely have been splattered with blood, even if they’d been careful. “And Tara’s costume was a light amber color, which would’ve really shown bloodstains, even minimal ones. Come to think of it, I didn’t see Jennifer Delamont until later, when she was already in her street clothes. And Pete Nelson whipped his costume off as soon as I asked everyone to come inside.”
“Something to look into. I can’t imagine Pete murdering a stranger, but perhaps he had some previous, unknown connection to Delamont.”
“That’s entirely possible. It wasn’t Lincoln’s first trip to Beaufort. And Pete is an argumentative sort.” I took a deep breath and added, “I also noticed that Alicia wasn’t wearing her customary apron after I got back from the store. And, of course, no onereally knows how long Scott Kepler was gone or when he returned to the carriage house.”
“But does Scott have a motive?”
I twitched my lips. “Unfortunately, yes,” I said, and I recounted my discussion with the author.
“You think he might have wanted revenge for Delamont cheating his father?”
“It’s a possibility, don’t you think? Especially since Scott seems to think the scam contributed to his father’s fatal heart attack.”
Ellen held up one hand. “Which means we have motives and opportunity for Julie, Jennifer, Alicia, and Scott,” she said, ticking off the names on her fingers. “There’s also a suspicious clothing change for Pete, although we don’t have any sense of a motive there. At least not yet. Meanwhile, Tara seems to be in the clear, based on her appearance after the murder. Anyone else?”
“Damian Carr,” I said reluctantly. “Again, I don’t know what his motive would have been, but he did have the opportunity, and he has a temper.”
Ellen nodded. “I’ve heard he’s a bit of a firebrand.”
“Yes, and he lives so close to Chapters he could’ve walked from his apartment. Everyone saw him leave in a huff, but he could’ve returned a little later, climbed the back fence, killed Lincoln, and returned home without ever being seen.”
“Which also means he could’ve easily changed his clothes before the police called on him.”
“I suppose so.” I shoved my drooping sunglasses up onto the bridge of my nose. “Alicia, Damian, and Julie would’ve known where the key to the carriage house was kept too, although Iguess any one of the guests could have figured that out ahead of time. They do have access to the kitchen, even when Alicia and I are out.”
“And, of course, Scott had a key,” Ellen said.
“Right. As for the knife—the block sits on the counter, so again, it wouldn’t have been hard for anyone to scope out a knife to use as a weapon ahead of time.”
Ellen dug the toe of her water shoes into the sand. “Back to square one? It seems we can’t really narrow down the list of suspects yet. Although I believe I’d eliminate the Sandberg sisters.”
“And maybe Sandy Nelson. Her husband has a temper, but I’ve never heard her even raise her voice.” I tapped two fingers against my lips. “Then there’s the Rowleys. I can’t imagine why either one of them would want to stab Lincoln Delamont, but I admit I don’t really know much about them.”
“Did they stay in costume?” Ellen asked.
“Yes, but …” I frowned. “Kelly left her cloak outside. She said she collected it later, but there’s still that little wrinkle of suspicion. And Todd’s costume was a dark, voluminous type of material that might not have shown stains unless you were really looking for them.”
Ellen held up three fingers on her other hand. “So they stay on the list. On the second page, perhaps, but worth further investigation. That brings us to eight possibilities. Quite a challenge.”
“Yes, I don’t envy the police having to handle so many suspects.”
Ellen pursed her lips. “I’m sure they’ve dealt with that before, although perhaps not involving a murder. I don’t think there’sbeen a murder in Beaufort in over thirty years.” She pointed at her watch. “But, interesting as this is, we probably should head back. I don’t want to make my volunteer partner wait too long for her lunch break.”
“That’s fine,” I said, but held my hand to stop Ellen from striding off. “One thing before we start back. There’s something else I wanted to ask you, if you don’t mind.”
“As long as you aren’t asking for an excessive amount of money from the trust,” Ellen said, with a lift of her well-groomed eyebrows. “I take my management of the trust seriously, you know.”
“No, it isn’t anything like that. This is something I found when I was poking around in the attic this morning. Two things, actually.” I reached into my purse and fished out the journal.
“Awfully hot day to be digging around in an attic.” Ellen’s gaze snapped to my hand. “Were you hoping to find evidence of Isabella’s innocence?”
“Or guilt. I really just want to know. But I didn’t actually find any proof either way.” I held up the journal and waved it under Ellen’s nose. “But I did find this.”
