Chapter 12
After a lengthy dinner, Charles and I slipped away from the group.
“Good work, Detective,” Charles gave me a little nudge as we pretended to wander around the lobby but slowly made our way toward a side exit.
“You too. Anything you picked up on?” I asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too cold outside. Aunt Penny had taken our coats because we didn’t want anyone to realize we were leaving.
“I have to say, I don’t have the same gifts for picking up on things you do, Jane.
To me, everything seemed perfectly normal—well, relatively.
But I got the sense you noticed something.
” He tipped his chin a bit to the side and arched an eyebrow.
He wasn’t trying to look like a handsome detective, but he did.
We made it to an exit near the now-empty conference hall and stepped out into the frosty November night.
“Oh, my!” I rubbed my arms, trying to stay on topic. “I picked up on something about the mood in the room, or the conversation, but I can’t pinpoint… oh, I’m too cold to talk. Owen said Armond hadn’t been shot, but maybe he just assumed that.”
Charles removed his dinner blazer and placed it on my shoulders. “Maybe. Let me get a cab. We need to get you out of the cold.”
I nodded, shivering.
Within a couple of minutes, Charles held a cab door open for me. We quickly loaded ourselves inside and disappeared into the night.
Aunt Penny’s humble apartment building was nothing like the Grand Lakes Hotel. Marco, the doorman, was long gone this late in the evening. So we used the keypad to let ourselves into the entrance, then tried to stop a gust of wind from carrying a mountain of fall leaves into the lobby.
Walking into Aunt Penny and Uncle Terrance’s apartment with Charles made me notice things I hadn’t before.
The folded but ancient afghan on the back of her sofa, the mismatched picture frames displaying decades of beautiful memories, her overstuffed bookshelf, and Moonbeam curled up on a cushion in the corner.
“Hello? We’re here,” I called softly into the apartment, not wanting to wake them if they were already asleep.
Aunt Penny burst from the kitchen in a long flannel bathrobe. “Oh, Charles!” She hugged him before even acknowledging me. “So glad you’re here. Looks like you brought our Jane home safe and sound.”
“We survived dinner and a cab ride.” I kissed my aunt on the top of her head. “We thought maybe we’d do a little research here tonight.”
“Oh, no. That can wait until morning. It’s so late, get some sleep. I’ll show you your room, Charles.” Aunt Penny took his arm and led us down the hall. She gave Charles the “nice” room I’d stayed in the night before. It had belonged to her daughter, my cousin, Hannah.
“Wow, this looks like one of those classic kid’s bedrooms in a movie.” Charles grinned at the novelty of sleeping in a normal bedroom. Considering Netherfield, his family estate near Austen Heights, he probably hardly, if ever, stayed in a place like this.
“I’ll be in the room next door if you need anything.
Goodnight.” Moonbeam followed as we left him to get settled, and Aunt Penny walked with me to the “library.” Her now-grown twin boys once inhabited the room, which she’d since converted it into an office/library.
She’d kept the bunk beds “just in case.”
“Sorry, Janey. I wasn’t sure if I should put your boyfriend up in a bunk bed.” She gave me a hug, and Moonbeam wove around my ankles. “I’m glad you’re back here and safe.”
“He’s not my boyfriend—I mean, we’re…” I didn’t know what to say.
“You sure?” She stepped back and looked into my eyes, still holding my shoulders.
“No.” A brief laugh escaped my lips, and I clapped my hand over my mouth. “No, I’m not.”
She whispered, “That boy is crazy about you. I know these things.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Maybe. But hope was painful.
I lay next to Moonbeam on the bottom bunk where my cousins used to sleep, staring at the bedframe above me. There were still a few glow-in-the-dark stars and J.D.’s initials scratched into the wood.
I closed my eyes, focused on my breathing, and calmed my mind. Well, I tried to calm my mind. But sleep eluded me.
Finally, I gave up and made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, nearly tripping over Moonbeam who followed me everywhere. I fumbled toward the cabinets without turning on any lights. Halfway across the linoleum floor, I stopped. A dark silhouette sat at the table.
“Jane?” a voice whispered.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Oh my goodness, Charles? You scared the life out of me,” I whispered back.
“Sorry—couldn’t sleep. Didn’t want to wake anyone up.” I looked in his direction, and as my eyes adjusted, I made out his fae glow—almost invisible but ever present.
“Here.” I turned on the light above the oven. “Might as well be able to see each other.”
Charles sat at the table with a glass of water. He’d switched his usual suit for a gray T-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Moonbeam claimed his lap and curled up into a purring ball of fluff. “Couldn’t sleep, either?”
I shook my head and pulled a few mugs and a package of chamomile tea from the cupboard, then turned on the kettle. “This hasn’t been a normal day, has it?”
“Not at all. I’m sorry I’ve gotten you all mixed up in whatever this is.
I think every possibility has run through my mind, and I’m suspicious of all of my colleagues.
” Even in the faint oven lighting, the worry in his forehead showed.
He shivered. His hair slightly damp and disheveled, and haunted shadows filled his eyes.
Occasionally I got the sense that part of him was untamed, wanting to run wild and free.
“This taking a toll on you?” I sat across from him at the little kitchen table. “I can sense the worry emanating from you.”
He watched me with his deep turquoise eyes and cleared his throat. Despite being over six feet tall, the splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks gave him a charming vulnerability.
“I’m responsible for the people who work for me.
I always hope when we hire someone, we’re changing their lives for the better.
But now two people have died… I’m trying to think of an upside, but there isn’t one.
At least Darcy is staying in his own penthouse tonight.
So he and Georgiana should be safe, I guess.
” His elbows were on the table, and he covered his face with his hands, then rubbed his temples.
My aunt’s kitchen, or perhaps the dim lighting, emboldened me.
I slid my chair next to his and patted his back.
“I’m glad they’re safe. You know, since neither of us can sleep, we should do a little research. I mean, if you think it will help.”
“I’d like that. I’ll grab my laptop.” Charles stood and left the kitchen.
I took a moment to set up the table with chamomile tea, honey, toast, my notebook, and some pens.
Then I stepped into the laundry room next to the kitchen and threw a couple of blankets in the dryer to warm.
Aunt Penny always kept them there in the winter for that exact purpose.
I didn’t want to wake anyone else up, so I left the main lights off but turned on a corner lamp and lit a few candles.
Then I ran my fingers through my hair, hoping I looked decent.
Charles came back with his laptop. It looked like he’d combed his hair a bit as well.
Before sitting, I pulled the warm blankets from the dryer, draped one of them around his shoulders, and served him a cup of tea.
He glanced around at the setup. “Wow, this is perfect—a warm blanket and everything. "
"I can't take credit for that. Aunt Penny warms them all the time."
"This home is magical," Charles muttered to himself. Then he turned to me. "In all honesty, I’m not sure where to start.”
The thought that this would be something a married couple would do…sit at the kitchen table and work into the early morning hours on an arduous task, crossed my mind. But mostly, a truly dedicated couple would always be there to support each other through whatever came their way.
“Well, I always make a list when I don’t know where to begin.
” I scooted my chair next to Charles and opened the notebook I’d been using to jot clues in.
He’d recently showered and smelled like soap.
“I can be your scribe as you go through the list. Later we can look over the photos… I took hundreds.”
“Smart idea.” Charles sipped his tea, then clicked on his keyboard. “There’s not a magic spell that can help you know who on a list of suspects is guilty, is there?”
“Not that I know of. I haven’t put as much time into my magic as the rest of my family, though.” I suspected maybe a spell that might do something like that existed, but I’d have to wait until morning to ask.
Charles stared at his computer screen. “Here’s a list of employees who attended the conference.”
Over a hundred employee names comprised the list. Most of them were unfamiliar, but there were a few I’d met.
Fitzwilliam Darcy, Directing Board Member
Charles Bingley, CEO, Lead Engineer
Lance Patel, COO
Armond Moreau, CFO
Owen Holt, Associate Engineer
Kyle Grimes, Associate Engineer
Catalina Herrera, Events Manager
Ashley Waters, Advertising Executive
My mind kept returning to Lance’s argument with Armond.
I tried to ignore it because we needed to consider the other people as well.
That left Catalina, Owen, Kyle, and Ashley as the only other people I knew.
But with so many people at the hotel, our list was endless.
Perhaps none of my new acquaintances were guilty.
“We know Catalina, Owen, Kyle, Ashley, and Lance were all near the suite when Armond died. But then there were also the housekeepers, the concierge, and the hotel manager. It’s too many.” I frowned.
“I wonder what we’re missing.” Charles looked into my eyes.
We sat so close together, I wanted to lean on his shoulder. But I refrained. “Let’s focus on the ones that we saw. We don’t know the housekeepers at all, the concierge was helpful, and so was the hotel manager. Unless they knew Armond previously, I can’t think of a motive.”
Being an empath, I perceived enough of people's emotions to realize they weren't as complex as they seemed. The same base ingredients composed them into infinite mixtures, like recipes. “Well, I suppose there are only a few real motivations for murder. In general, it’s money, fear, jealousy, romantic rivalry, anger, or maybe revenge, right?”
”Not really my area of expertise, but I think so.” Charles scratched Moonbeam, who’d reclaimed his lap, behind the ears.
“That sounds right. You can’t think of anyone that might benefit from Armond or Margery being out of the way?” I had to be sure. “Since Armond and Margery were so different, a romantic rivalry or jealousy wouldn’t make much sense.”
“Probably not. Armond’s death might actually hurt Lance since he depended on him for market analyses.
Also, Armond’s presence benefited Owen and Kyle because he secured funding for their projects and ensured a market for their inventions.
Margery took photos of the new products.
” Charles tapped his fingers on the table.
“Catalina takes care of Haven Corporation’s image, which would be hurt by multiple murders.
Ashley wouldn’t benefit at all. She definitely would have needed Margery around for advertising photography. ”
“You don’t think any of them sabotaged Haven Corp., do you? Maybe someone’s got some vendetta we don’t know about, or a rival company is paying them out?” I gripped my pen and doodled spirals in the notebook.
“Anything is possible,” Charles said absently as he clicked through files. “I wonder if someone wanted Armond’s job?”
“Chief financial officer. Is that a fairly well-paid position?”
“Yes, he was making decent money. Who knows?” Charles stopped clicking through screens and paused on the professional portfolio of a beautiful, familiar-looking middle-aged woman.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“That’s Margery Blake.” Charles’s eyes softened, and he slowly shook his head. “I guess we still have her listed on the website.”
“She looks different here than on her socials. She’s beautiful. You don’t think she had any other romantic connections at Haven Corp, do you?”
“Unfortunately, I’d be the last person to know. Something about being the CEO means people only tell me what I want to hear.” Charles yawned. At least he was aware of his blind spot. Whether people avoided telling him things, he was a little oblivious.
I stifled a yawn as well. “But it also means we can’t rule out the possibility. I think we need to investigate who benefits financially, and if there were any romantic relationships we’re unaware of.”
“Getting tired?” Charles offered a half-smile and patted my hand. I should have pulled it away since we did not need to pretend at my aunt’s home. But I didn’t. Instead, I leaned closer to him, and patted Moonbeam on the head. "We can look into more tomorrow."
With heavy eyelids, I nodded. “Let’s get some sleep.”