Chapter 10
Sitting on the floor with Waffles, I glanced over to a corner where our staff decorated a live Christmas tree for my room, just like Mom used to do.
It was, as tradition, adorned with ornaments representing “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” I breathed in the fresh scent of pine, looking forward to planting the little tree in the woods come January.
A few possibilities crossed my mind, and I sat up.
If the killer really was out riding Storm, they’d need to be an experienced rider and probably not too heavy.
Storm was fast but used to a lightweight jockey.
They also would have needed to know he was in the stables.
It was too bad our stable hand didn't work full-time, otherwise we might've had some simple answers.
If I was correct about any of my hypotheses, everything would make sense. But we might also be in danger.
I pulled myself back up to my feet and grabbed my phone from my nightstand, texting Darcy.
I wonder if Daphne knows how to ride? I’m narrowing down the suspects in my mind. Also, did anyone ever identify the person on the four-wheeler?
I paced back and forth on the creamy plush carpet in my bedroom, then flopped back down onto my bed, crumpling the silky duvet with its embroidered roses. It took a few minutes for him respond, but then a message from Darcy appeared.
I thought you were staying out of this.
Relax, Darcy. I’m alone in my room. I just had a thought come to me.
You think the killer was out riding this afternoon or on one of our four-wheelers?
Well whoever shot Zac had to have some mode of transportation. Someone was out on a four-wheeler, we know that. But Mr. Arnold said he saw someone racing to Pemberley on a horse. Unless there were two killers.
I'm pretty sure it was just a gardener. But security hasn't positively identified them yet.
I wonder if someone could have driven out to the woods on a four-wheeler. Do you know if any of the four-wheelers are missing?
We can check. But, Georgiana, how would they have gotten Storm to follow them while driving a four-wheeler?
Maybe Zac took Storm and someone chased him on a four-wheeler.
Or the other way around. Zac could've taken a four-wheeler and whoever was riding Storm could've chased him. I think the killer knew the property, though.
Well, we have this open house every year, all of our staff know the house, Daphne tries to buy artwork from me yearly, of course Bradford’s visited before, and as a neighbor, Mr. Arnold knows the place best of all.
You’ve been digging pretty deeply into things, haven’t you? I’ll have security look at the gardener on the four-wheeler once more to verify the identity. By the way, I’m on my way to your room….
That really isn’t necessary…
I rolled my eyes and checked my hair in the vanity mirror.
At least I’d be comfortable for dinner in my velvet dress.
I’d left my long blonde waves loose, too tired for a fancy updo.
Even though I hated having to dress for dinner as a child, we’d kept the tradition since losing our parents, and I didn’t mind it so much anymore.
Mom explained it showed gratitude and respect to our cook, chef, and dining companions. But it was more than that. Dining together gave Darcy and me a sense of family.
A knock sounded on my door, and I opened it to find Henry instead of Darcy. He had just showered, smelled of soap, and wore a blazer for dinner.
He also looked embarrassed. “You look stunning.”
"Oh, I thought we were giving ourselves a minute to decompress?" I opened the door wider. “This dress isn't as fancy as it looks. It's actually as comfortable as a nightgown—just don’t tell anyone.”
Henry looked down at his feet, then back up at my eyes with a mischievous grin. "I missed you. It's just. Well, we're both here, and I don't want to waste the opportunity."
"The opportunity?" My eyes widened.
"To prove my case, I suppose." Henry tilted his head to the side and a strand of light brown hair fell across his forehead.
"Well, I suppose you'd better come in."
Before I could close the door, Darcy showed up. He wore a dapper black blazer with a crisp white shirt. Relief spread over his face. “Oh, good. You’re okay.”
“Of course.” I stepped aside to allow him into my sitting room as well.
His eyebrows rose as he noticed Henry standing in the middle of the room.
“I, uh, I just got here.” Henry looked between the two of us.
"Right, Henry. Your last name's Cyprus, right?
" Darcy nodded, giving poor Henry the full Valemont gaze.
It was polite, but confusingly neutral, with a subtle air of judgement.
I'd seen most of my family deliver the gaze at one point or another, and it generally had the effect of turning the victim into an ingratiating oaf. But Henry handled it surprisingly well.
"Yes, you've probably heard of Cyprus Farms grains and cereal products. I'm one of the many Cyprus's." Henry gave a nonchalant shrug.
"I see," Darcy responded, then he turned to me. “You think Daphne was the killer?”
“No… maybe… it’s just one possibility. I also suspect Bradford because he knows Pemberley so well, but I can't place a motive for him. Daphne is very petite and looked like she could be a good jockey, though.” I frowned. The theory made perfect sense in my mind, but explaining why proved difficult.
“Gonna need a little more than that, Georgiana.” Darcy smirked and sat in one of the armchairs by a window.
"I think one of them has discovered something about the art collection.
Maybe we have a piece that's more valuable that we realized.
I think Daphne was hoping to buy one of the pieces.
" I only half understood my own thoughts, but my gut told me I was on to something.
"If that's the case, she might not like that Lizzy is doing an article on the art. "
Darcy's phone buzzed, and he read the message.
“Oh… this is interesting. Dan says it looks like the victim, Zac, is the one who took one of the four-wheelers out. He came here in a sports car, which is in the back parking area, came to the garden sheds, and took our four-wheeler like he knew exactly what to do.”
“What? That verifies that his killer had something to do with Pemberley. I think we're right about them being in the house.” I rubbed my forehead.
“At least it tells us that his coming back here wasn’t random,” Henry said. He took the second armchair and composed himself, mimicking Darcy's confident body language. “He didn’t just happen to be in the area. Someone on horseback met up with him, and maybe even chased him through the woods.”
“Could it have been Daphne, I wonder?” I tried to wrap my head around the order of events.
“I suppose she could have parked farther away, come and taken Storm out and met Zac in the woods, then come back later and acted like she’d only just arrived.” Darcy shook his knee like he always did when he was stressed. “Whoever is responsible for this knew what they were doing.”
He was right. The killer was smart, and we need to account for that. “Bradford's also a good rider, I think. So he could be a possibility."
“I suppose. But you know Bradford is family, and there’s no way he would have known Zac,” Darcy considered.
"Strange coincidences happen sometimes. Maybe Zac tracked him down," Henry suggested.
But the chances of that happening were microscopic. “I know some of our staff members are good riders as well, especially Dan. So it’s a bit of a shot in the dark, but I’m not ready to accuse any of them.”
“Too bad there aren’t cameras at the stables.” Henry seemed utterly confused.
I knew I was confusing them both. “Well, there kind of are. It’s just that this property is very old and there’s a back entrance. For privacy, we don’t have cameras at all the secret entrances. Whoever took Storm must’ve known that.”
“But you don’t think it’s a staff member?” Henry raised his eyebrows.
“My gut tells me it wasn’t. I’m not completely sure, of course.” How could I explain I needed our staff at Pemberley to be trustworthy? To me, they were family, and I’d already lost enough loved ones.
“I’m on the fence about the possibility of a staff member.” Darcy somehow understood how I felt.
“We should watch for anything off at dinner. If the killer was on horseback, they’ve got to be in the house.
How else would Storm have gotten home?” I bit my bottom lip.
Hopefully, they would trust me. “Darcy, can you please plan to offer a tour of the guest art gallery after dinner? I would like to see how they react to various pieces.”
“They’ve all already seen the gallery, Georgiana.” Darcy looked at me like he worried my concussion was worse than he’d realized.
“I know. But it’s worth a try.”
“We’ll try, but I’ll have our security team on alert as well.” Darcy muttered mostly to himself. He must’ve been in a mood because he gave me a stern look. “You’re not planning to involve Lizzy, are you?”
“Of course not.” I frowned, wondering what in the world Darcy was so worried about. “It’s nearly 7:00. We should get down to the dining hall.”
“Why did Lizzy say she was visiting Pemberley?” Henry whispered as we were descending from the second floor. He offered me his arm so I wouldn’t trip in my heels.
“I think she was here with relatives and also doing an article on the historical art.” I shrugged.
“What kind of historical art?” Henry asked. "Could she be a suspect?"
Darcy must've been listening to our conversation, because he turned back toward us. “No. She was with me."
"He's right. The historical art is a collection of fae in this area going back about three hundred years.” I stopped walking and stared at Henry. “You’re a genius.”
“I’m really not.” He shook his head. “I was just trying to think of questions. No idea how that’s related to anything.”
“That’s what we need to figure out.” I resumed my careful steps downstairs. “I think we need a plan to catch them at their own game.”
“I don’t know that Darcy will like that,” Henry said, glancing at my brother, who'd made it all the way downstairs, and was shaking hands with a few guests.
“He will if it protects Lizzy,” I responded. “I wonder if she would mind if we used her, well the fact that she's writing an article on the artwork for her article, as bait.”
“Absolutely not!” Darcy whispered to me outside of the main dining hall when I suggested my idea. "How could her article possibly be related to the murder?"
"It's not directly related. But if she's doing an article, it's possible she's uncovered some secret the killer doesn't want released. Like the value of certain pieces, or something.” I persisted in hushed tones to avoid being overheard. "We'd just ask her to talk about her article to the group."
“Georgiana, I love you to the moon and back. But please don’t ask me to risk her. I can’t.” Darcy's eyes were soft, scared even.
“I understand.” Though I wasn’t ready to admit it to my brother, I already felt similarly about Henry. “We’ll find another way.”
“Honestly, I’d rather you did nothing. Why not just allow the police to deal with the killer tomorrow? I doubt whoever did it is a threat to anyone right now,” Darcy said.
“Well, if Lizzy is reporting on our historical art, it may put her in danger tonight,” I warned my brother. "We probably shouldn't wait."
Anger flashed in Darcy’s eyes. “If anything happened to her, it would be a serious mistake on the killer’s part.”