Chapter 10
The next day, we met in front of the animal shelter. Jane wore a calf-length skirt with ankle boots and a sweater that had me fighting to remember my own name. “You look amazing,” I said.
She smiled softly. “Thank you. I had an interview this morning so I dressed up.”
“Where at?”
“The school, actually. They need a long-term substitute in one of the kindergarten classes. As much as I love my work as a photographer, I’m ready to grow in a new way, and I think I can manage both for a while.
The extra income will really help out my family.
” Her brows drew together. “They’ve been struggling with the expense of my dad’s medical care. ”
The world seemed to stop. I should have realized that the cost of treating Moonrot would be a burden for the Bennets. Here I was, with enough money to last for generations without ever working another day, while the Bennets struggled to make ends meet yet still wouldn’t let me pay at their bakery.
Paying for her dad’s treatments was a concrete way I could help Jane.
But as eager as I was to help, I didn’t want her to feel she owed me anything.
When I proposed to her, I didn’t want her to feel pressure to accept out of gratitude.
I’d pay the medical bills anonymously, and if she didn’t want to marry me, she would never need to know that I was the one who did it.
I realized she was watching me for a reaction. “You’ll be an amazing teacher. You’re so patient and kind, those kids will love you.” And if she got the job, it would mean she could stay in Austen Heights while still pursuing her dream.
“Me too. Also, I wanted to thank you for the flowers,” Jane said, blushing.
Did she know what they meant? Were roses a secret code girls could read without consulting a florist?
“You’re welcome.” I thought about trying to explain what I’d meant by them, but Jane didn’t need more words, she needed stability and consistency.
So I smiled at her, hoping to say with my eyes all the things I’d meant by the flowers.
But there was only so much staring and smiling could convey, so after a long moment, I broke eye contact.
Jane grabbed her camera and we walked to the shelter together. “I cleared it with Lizzy—we’re good to go on the pet of the week.”
“Excellent.”
The bell dinged overhead when we walked into the shelter.
“Good morning,” Brittany said from behind the front desk, brushing her golden, leaf-like hair from her face. When she saw it was just us, she said, “I can’t chat today; it’s been a busy day.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
My impulse was to hurriedly apologize and leave after that obvious dismissal, but Jane spoke first.
“Of course,” she said. “I just have a quick question.”
“Not about the murder, I hope.”
“Not this time.” Her tone was cheerful and I marveled at how easily she brushed aside Brittany’s implied accusation.
“My sister at the Sanditon Chronicle wants to do a weekly pet of the week feature. If you’re interested, she’d like me to work out the details and take some pictures of one of your adoptable animals.
” She gestured to the camera around her neck.
This time, Brittany’s smile was bright and sincere.
I chimed in, “We think that between your insight into the animals and Jane’s ability to showcase their personality on film, people will fall in love with them. The goal is to raise the adoption rate at the shelter.”
Brittany’s face took on a mischievous look. “I think I have just the pet for you.”
And just like that, we were in.
Brittany led us to the conference room. It looked like it had on the night of the murder, except that the kitty litter had been swept from the floor and the table was cleared of all the papers and notes.
“I’m sorry I was so standoffish when you came in,” Brittany said. “Today is actually an exciting day. A former rescue of ours, a French bulldog, is delivering puppies.”
“I had no idea that was something a dog would need a vet for,” I said.
“Normally it’s not, but this dog is on the small side and birth can be tricky for that breed, so we offered to let her labor here under Terence’s supervision.”
“That’s great. Terence seems to be an excellent vet.”
“He is. And how is Jaro doing?” Brittany seemed perfectly friendly now that she didn’t think we were going to bring up the murder again. Did that mean she was more or less likely to be the killer? I didn’t even know how to begin assessing.
“Jaro is doing well,” I said. He’s been having a blast exploring the grounds of Netherfield Park and, did you know, he can play volleyball as well as I can? Between that and all the walks, I think he’s going to get me in shape.”
Brittany and Jane exchanged laughing smiles.
“I don’t think that will be too hard,” Brittany said, trying in vain to keep a straight face. What about that did they find so funny?
Jane changed the subject. “What about the winged kitten? How is he?”
“Terence gave him the all clear for adoption this morning.”
Jane’s expression turned thoughtful. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but we had a mission to accomplish, so I took her hand instead, squeezing it gently. That intoxicating blush spread slowly across her cheeks.
“I’ll go get Schatzi,” Brittany said, then paused in the doorway. “I’m really glad you guys are doing this. Schatzi is a sweetheart, but she’s also a bit of a mischief-maker. She’s always getting loose and making trouble with the neighbors, so it’ll be a relief to see her safely adopted soon.”
There was nothing behind the shelter but a couple acres of woods. “What neighbors?” I asked.
“There’s a row of townhouses on the other side of that forested area. One of the residents gets upset when Shatzie escapes to play in the woods.”
“That’s where Bill lives,” I said. I’ve heard him complain about this dog before.”
Jane turned back to Brittany. “I’ll tell Lizzie that this dog needs prime placement in the next issue. Hopefully we can drum up some interest in your little scoundrel.”
“Thank you,” Brittany said. “I’ll be right back with her.”
She returned a few moments later with a small dog of indeterminate breed with soft brown fur and mischievous brown eyes. “Here’s Schatzie.”
She barked excitedly and writhed in Brittany’s arms, apparently trying to get free.
“She’s adorable!” Jane said. “Will you help me get her situated for some photos? And then I have a few questions from my sister. She would have loved to interview you herself but she’s swamped at work, so I told her I could just gather the information for her article while I was here taking pictures. ”
I pulled my phone out, our pre-arranged distraction, and feigned reluctance.
“I’m sorry,” I said, gesturing to my phone as if someone were calling me.
“I’ve got to take this.” I hurried out of the room.
Hopefully, Jane and Schatzie would keep Brittany busy for long enough for me to search her office.
I hurried down the hall, past the room where Terence was speaking soothingly, either to the laboring dog or her human.
Maybe both. When I reached Brittany’s office, I peeked down the hall to make sure it was empty and slipped inside.
I was looking for anything that might be incriminating, specifically rat poison or a scrabble game with missing tiles.
The office held typical office furniture—a big wooden desk, some filing cabinets, a bookshelf.
But unlike an ordinary office, this one was teeming with plants.
Every surface was covered, even the ceiling, which must have been rigged with some sort of trellis because it was completely covered by flowery vines.
Pots of flowers, succulents, and bonsai trees were everywhere.
A row of marigolds filled a box under the window, and one table seemed to be devoted entirely to moss.
I inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh, verdant scent. Maybe I should talk to Netherfield about putting in a conservatory.
I peeked around the room, searching in Brittany’s desk drawers and in a little cupboard I had to push lush green spiderettes aside to access.
I could have sworn the marigolds turned when I moved, tracking my movements.
Could Brittany talk to plants? I wasn’t sure if that was a skill dryads possessed, but I knew of at least one fae, Georgiana Darcy, who had the ability.
“I’m just looking around,” I whispered to the flowers, just in case they could hear me. “Hopefully I won’t find anything and we’ll be able to clear Brittany of any suspicion.” When I spoke the words, I realized they were true. I hoped I wouldn’t find any incriminating evidence.
I finished poking around the room, then slipped quietly out the door, having found no sign of poison. I went back to the room where the dryad was wrangling a very enthusiastic Schatzie. I shook my head subtly at Jane to let her know that I hadn’t found anything.
“I think I got enough poses now, thank you,” Jane said.
Brittany looked relieved. “Okay, good.” She scooped up Schatzie and we followed her to the enclosures, where she put the dog back inside. Schatzie curled up next to a large teddy bear that covered most of her little bed.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Brittany asked.
“Actually, yes,” Jane said.
Movement outside the window caught my eye, and I saw Herb, struggling with a box.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. The box Herb was holding fell to the ground, scattering its contents. I hurried out to help him.
He blanched when he saw me. “Oh, I’m all right, Charles.”
“No, I insist,” I said, bending down to help him pick up what he’d dropped.
But when I saw what lay scattered across the pavement, I realized why he didn’t want my help.
He’d dropped a game of Scrabble and was hastily picking up word tiles.
Tiles exactly like the ones glued to the threatening note we’d found at Jeanine’s house.
I bent down to help him pick them up, my throat so thick with disappointment it hurt to swallow. When I’d picked up the last of the tiles, I met his gaze. His eyes were sorrowful and his hands were clasped tightly together.
“I know about the note,” I said quietly. “And I’m guessing you took the tiles from the game room in your wife’s care center. She mentioned that she was missing pieces.”
To Herb’s credit, he didn’t try to deny it.
“It’s true. I sent Jeanine that note. But I didn’t kill her.
I swear I didn’t.” His face wasn’t difficult to read.
His eyes were red rimmed and wide, lips quivering.
He was ashamed. “I wanted to scare her off,” he continued.
“But I would never harm her. We tried to ask her not to sell the land, but she wouldn’t listen, so I sent the note.
The very next day, she agreed to meet with us.
I don’t know if my note had anything to do with her change of heart, but either way, I feel terrible about her death. ”
I knew I should be skeptical, but everything about him felt so sincere. I still didn’t have the right words, so I kept silent while Herb continued speaking.
“I know it looks bad,” he said. “I probably should have admitted to the police that I wrote the note, but I knew that would make me look guilty.”
I placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Do Terence and Brittany know about this?” I asked.
“No.”
“I’m not going to tell them,” I said. “Or the police. I understand why you wrote the note.”
He hung his head. “Thank you, Charles.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded and headed back into the shelter. Jane’s smile lit up when she saw me. “I’m going to check with Lizzy and Miss Bates, and if they agree, I’m going to adopt the winged cat,” she said.
I did my best to smile back, though I still felt disheartened after my conversation with Herb. “That’s great, Jane,” I said.
As we walked out to her car, her phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and her expression grew worried as she saw who the caller was. “It’s the Austen Heights PD,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice.
She took the call, pacing a little as she did. The conversation couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, but her face was pale when she ended the call.
“The police want me to come in for some more questioning,” she said.
Shock coursed through me. How could they still think Jane had something to do with the murder? They must not have picked up on any other leads. I couldn’t really blame them; I hadn’t been able to find the real killer either. But they had to realize Jane was innocent.
“Do you want me to drive you?” I asked.
Jane shook her head. “No, I can drive myself. Thanks, though.”
“Update me when you’re done. Please.”
Jane nodded and turned to go, but I wrapped my arms around her and the tension in her body relaxed as I held her. “It will be okay,” I said, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
As she drove away, my body grew cold. I had wanted so badly to be what Jane needed, but I was the worst detective ever. I was no closer to finding the killer than I was when I’d started.
I was convinced it wasn’t Terence, Brittany, or Herb, although if I were really honest with myself, it could have been any of them. I hadn’t found any evidence to prove their innocence or guilt. Maybe I was too trusting and naive for this task. Maybe Jane was better off without me.
I felt unmoored. I briefly considered calling Darcy but decided against it. I didn’t want to fall back into the bad habit of making all my decisions based on Darcy’s approval.
I was stuck, but there was still someone I could turn to, someone who was important to me even though I hadn’t been able to admit it to myself lately. My sister had always been there for me, and she might just have the insight I lacked. It took all the courage I had in me to admit it to myself.
I needed to go visit Louisa.