Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Harriet
I stand at the edge of the fire station lot, pulling my cardigan around me against the cool bite of evening.
“I don’t know why you needed the photos,” Alexandru says in his BBC accent. “We’ve ruled out Whitney. It’s quite obvious that it’s Kip.”
“It doesn’t feel right. We need more data. Just because Kip ran the bartending operations at every single wedding where there was an accident doesn’t mean he caused the accidents.”
“You saw the photo. The way he gazed at that fire. His love of trouble and chaos belongs in your motive column.”
“Even so, it’s not proof. We have six days left, right? If we can just gather more data, the truth will show itself—I’m sure of it.”
He steps closer, eyes dark as midnight. “My hunger grows.”
“I’m not going to let an innocent person die just because you’re feeling peckish. You agreed to do it my way, and there are protocols to be followed. Rules on how we should do this.”
He looks at me like he’s seeing something new in my face. “Rules,” he echoes.
“Yes!” I snap.
“You’re feeling intense emotions about the rules. What happens when we don’t follow the rules, Ms. Renfield?”
“Don’t.”
“Tell me,” he whispers.
A memory flashes. My voice: I’ll be back in a couple of minutes. James on the monkey bars. His smile—so loving and trusting. The clang of a bell above the ice cream shop door. Bantering with grade-school heartthrob Jerimiah Jacobs. Then the sound of wheels spinning. A vehicle peeling off.
And the grip of fear.
I can feel Alexandru’s gaze on me—quiet, intent, measuring.
“Your overlord wishes to know.”
“My overlord needs to stay in his lane.”
His voice is soft, coaxing. “Tell me.”
I spear a finger into his chest—harder than I mean to. “Stay in your lane.”
Strong, cool fingers wrap around mine. “Grief. Guilt.”
I jerk my finger free, pulse high. “Screw off, Sir Fangsalot. I’m not ready to pronounce a man’s death, and there’s still time to confirm our assumptions.”
He sighs.
“I thought you enjoyed working on our mystery.”
“I do enjoy it. But if I take Kip, and the wedding accidents continue, we’ll know we had the wrong person by the process of deduction.”
“Killing potential suspects and waiting to see if more crimes occur is a horrible investigation method!”
“It’s the process of deduction.”
“No, it’s not! The process of deduction is deducing things,” I say.
Alexandru gazes at me strangely, like he sometimes does when I challenge him. “You have a point. It’s the process of elimination.”
“Elimination by murder. It’s completely immoral. Not to mention repugnant.”
I stare up at the sky, trying to collect myself. It’s not fully dark yet, but the moon is out. “I need to walk a bit.” I set off walking, not waiting for his opinion.
“You are distressed,” he says, walking beside me.
“How could I not be? We’re running out of time, and I feel like we’re going backwards. If we don’t solve this, somebody innocent will die.”
“What does it matter? You humans. Your lives are so short and insignificant. What difference does a few years make?”
“It makes a difference to the person who dies, and to those who love them. They’ll miss them every day, and... why am I explaining this to you? We have a deal, and we’re going to find this person.”
“Perhaps.”
“No, we’re going to.” I cut down to the river walk, heading for my favorite spot, a pretty little bench next to a tree. The land across the river rises sharply, and you can make out the lights of houses through the trees.
I grip the back of the bench, staring at the sky, which is mostly dark with faint salmon-colored streaks.
“We can rule out Whitney, but we still haven’t seen the guest lists from Sloane.
And there are more questions, like Harlan’s whole business of shutting down the investigation.
Didn’t you think Chief Knox was acting a little sketchy about it? ”
“If by sketchy you mean full of outrage, then yes, I would have to agree.”
“You got outrage from him?” I ask. “That’s a strong emotion.”
“And that emotion felt bottled up. I believe that he wanted to continue the investigation and was prevented.”
“By Harlan,” I say. “Interesting. Could our culprit be Harlan? He attends a lot of weddings, but I don’t think he’s at every wedding.
Though he was at the confetti cannon wedding, and he was definitely at the stairway collapse wedding.
But what about the others? I can’t believe Sloane just won’t turn over the guest lists.
What would Harlan’s motive be? I can’t imagine. ”
Alexandru leans against the bench in a pose that might be described as “Italian menswear model staring animalistically into the distance.” Who knows what he’s thinking. More dark thoughts about humans, probably.
“I wish we could see what the police have turned up,” I say. “I feel like they’re focusing too intently on the motorcycle gang. They might have evidence for one of our suspects and not recognize its significance because it doesn’t have to do with the Snag Tooth Riders.”
“I could get it out of Officer Cooper within seconds.”
“No, thanks. Has Gregor gotten the package from the overseas seller yet?”
“Some packages did arrive recently.”
I text Gregor.
Did a package arrive from Sweden recently?
Reply dots appear immediately, because, of course, Gregor gets back right away when the overlord is involved.
“And don’t forget about Valerie. You thought she was being super weird about the archives, and she was definitely in a prominent position by the fire.”
Alexandru raises a brow. “You said you ruled her out. Because of your spreadsheet.”
“All I’m saying is it’s too early to nail Kip.”
“Perhaps it’s two people working together,” Alexandru suggests. “We could rule Whitney back in that way.”
“Serial killers don’t work together. That’s not a thing.”
“Never?” he asks, and I don’t have to be looking at him to know he’s got one eyebrow arched.
His ability to read me is getting annoying.
“Behavioral profiling says the average serial killer is wired for secrecy, control, and personal gratification. Team dynamics doesn’t work for somebody like that.”
“But it’s not impossible. There have been pairs. You’ve read about them.”
I groan inwardly, frustrated. Which I’m sure he can also read loud and clear. “It’s rare for them to work in pairs. When it happens, it’s usually an alpha who is the killer and a lackey. So yes, it does happen.”
“Overlord and underling. Like us.”
“Uh, no—not like us.” But then I think about it and realize it is a little like us. He’s the killer and I’m the lackey.
How is this my life?
There’s a rumbling in the distance. “Oh, goodie, here they come,” I say.
“Who?”
“The Snag Tooth Riders themselves, in all their annoying loudness.” I turn and lean with my butt against the back of the bench as they ride up from the south. I put my fingers in my ears as they near.
Alexandru folds his arms, shifting his pose to “Italian menswear model annoyed by noise.”
There are a good dozen of them in their full leather regalia, riding two by two on their shiny bikes.
“It’s called a muffler,” I yell as they pass. “Look into it!”
Alexandru’s lips quirk.
My phone vibrates and I check it. There’s a single word from Gregor: arrived.
“Our bribe for Sloane is in. We can bring it to her tomorrow.”
“Excellent.”
We set back off to my car.
“Do you think Gregor hates it when I greet him in a friendly manner?”
“No doubt about it.”
“Do you think he actively wants me to ignore him?”
“Gregor doesn’t actively want anything.”
“He must want something.”
“He wants the status quo he now has.”
My mind drifts back to our interview with Sully and Chief Knox. “I have a new thought. Did you catch how Sully mentioned that insurance has all the photographs from the curtain fire incident?”
“I did.”
“And remember how Lisa Galindo mentioned that insurance got involved in the champagne tower collapse?”
Alexandru’s eyes sparkle.
I smile. “Bo Richardson refuses to show us his precious champagne tower collapse photos, but I bet you the insurance company has them. Why didn’t I think of that sooner? We have to get pictures from them.”
“Judging from your late father’s grumbling, insurance companies are not entirely helpful,” Alexandru says.
“No, they’re not, but I’m going to see what I can do. I’ve got admin girls everywhere.”
“What is an admin girl?” Alexandru asks as we turn toward Commerce Street.
“Somebody who runs things without people realizing they’re running things. I’m part of a whole admin girl mafia in Silverton Valley, and we are low-key very cooperative with each other.”
“Admin girl. And this is what you do for Serena?”
“Oh my goodness, stop the presses! Is the great overlord stooping to ask yet another personal question about the life of a lowly and despicable Renfield?”
“I am requesting information.”
“Sounds like a personal question to me.”
“It is pertinent to your employment with me.”
“Is it, though?”
Alexandru casts me an imperious gaze. “You should pray that there doesn’t come a time when my annoyance with your insolent attitude outweighs the value that you bring.”
“What? Is that something you’re constantly evaluating and weighing? Insolence versus value?”
“It is.”
I suck in a breath. Is he joking or what?
After a short and silent drive, we’re at the gates of Kingston Manor. I hit the remote to open the wrought-iron gate that surrounds the gloomy grounds and continue up the circular drive that’s flanked on either side by trees.
I get out and head to the double front door with its carved mahogany design, luckily not serpent-forward enough to frighten the delivery drivers of Silverton Valley.
Gregor opens the door, and I give him a curt, businesslike nod as we enter the mansion of doom.
I spot the package on the foyer table and rub my hands together. “Behold, the key to Sloane Cunningham’s cooperation!” I open the box as Alexandru looks on. Carefully, I ease the treasure out and hold it up for him and Gregor to admire.
“Mystery Date?” Alexandru says. “What is that?”
I flip it over to read the back, in no hurry to answer his questions.
Gregor rushes in with an answer, fearing his overlord’s discomfort. “It is a board game from the seventies.”
“It’s a rare, totally ridiculous version from the 70s, and Sloane’s going to lose her mind. She collects retro board games. She has a whole room dedicated to them.”
Tomorrow, after work, we get the guest lists.