Chapter 16
We sat in Mr. Hedwer’s office, taking turns explaining the current situation and our suspicions.
“But you understand. We still don’t know who booked the extra suite, or how they got a key card to access the eighteenth floor,” I spewed the words at the poor man. His eyes were wider than normal and his glasses slipped halfway down his nose.
“I can’t imagine anyone who works here would share their keycard.
But let me think now. We don’t have cameras on the eighteenth floor since it’s mostly a storage area.
But I have the photos you requested earlier.
” He passed a folder to me, then turned to his computer and rapidly tapped at the keyboard.
“Let’s see, Armond Moreau booked the third suite with a Haven Corp credit card. Wait, he's the victim?”
“Yes, which makes me wonder if someone talked him into it.” I stared at Mr. Hedwer’s shiny desk. “Maybe we can force a confession. The gala is this evening, right?”
Charles nodded. “But whoever we’re up against has been playing this game for a while now. I worry they’re more dangerous than we expect.”
“All the more reason to catch them. Maybe we can think of it more as who we’d protect—who’s to say this won’t keep happening?” I shrugged.
“True.” He nodded. “We need to come up with a plan.”
Charles and I had spent much of the afternoon in our suite, trying to devise a way to catch the killer.
Our final plan was simple because it had to be flexible enough to allow for adjustments depending on how people reacted.
We hoped dropping clues about the connected rooms and the eighteenth floor would elicit a reaction from the guilty party.
I’d shoot photos of people’s reactions, and we’d analyze them later to see if we could make any connections.
Despite the circumstances, a slight wave of excitement rushed over me as I slipped into my dress.
My gown, with its low back, reached the floor.
Silver threads shimmered within the fabric.
I did nothing fancy with my hair, but I did have a silver barrette I used to pull a few twisted strands back from my face.
“You look…” Charles stared at me for a minute and shook his head as I descended the spiral staircase. “You look like you deserve to be doing something far better than hunting down a murderer with me. I won’t be able to live with myself if anything happens to you, Jane.”
“Well, good thing I’m hanging out with one of the most talented healers on the planet.” I waved off his concern and tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as he stood there in his tuxedo. “What could happen in a crowded ballroom with hundreds of witnesses around?”
“Use your imagination,” Charles muttered softly and brushed an errant strand of hair behind my ear. “We’ll need to be careful.”
When we reached the ballroom, fairy lights and chandeliers welcomed us. Circular tables draped with deep plum cloths lined the walls, and the center of the room was open for dancing. The elegant soiree put our social events in Austen Heights to shame.
I walked in through the main entrance on Charles’s arm, and a server in a tuxedo descended upon us. He offered drinks and hors d'oeuvres on a platter and directed us to our table.
Within minutes, another couple, who were assigned to share our table, arrived and introduced themselves as Dustin and Cynthia de Bourgh.
They were in their early to mid-sixties.
Cynthia dripped with jewelry: a set of long gold and sapphire earrings, a statement necklace spread like diamond lace around her throat, a stack of gold bangles with various gemstones, and a ring on nearly every finger.
Even without my fae ability, I would’ve sensed her self-content.
“High fae,” Charles whispered in my ear.
“Oh, aren’t you a pretty young thing?” She looked me over as if she were inspecting a used car, then turned to Charles. “Where’d you find her?”
Charles politely blew off her insolence. “Mrs. De Bourgh, this is my girlfriend, Jane Bennet, from Austen Heights, Maine. Jane, these are Cynthia and Dustin De Bourgh. Remind me. Are you still involved in your charity work?”
Though I tried to reserve judgment against people, I’d likely avoid her given the chance.
“Well…” she huffed and then pulled on her husband’s sleeve. “I live for it, but tell me, Jane. Do you know of Catherine de Bourgh? She’s Dustin’s cousin and lives in your part of the world.”
“I think I’ve heard of her—”
But Cynthia’s attention was already elsewhere. She pointed at a woman across the room. “Oh, Dusty, look over there! Madeline Swinson is wearing the same necklace she wore last year. How ridiculous.”
Her husband sniffed and arched his brows while muttering, “Yes, very observant, dear. Now, Charles, I’d like to hear about your SaferLoc. Your operations chap, Lance, was it? He’s insisting it’s going to be revolutionary. What do you think of that?”
Charles’s cheeks flushed. “Might be an overstatement. But I have confidence in it.”
“Modesty doesn’t suit you in business, Charles.” Dustin slapped Charles on the back. “You want investors, you’ve got to be bold. There’s a lot of money at stake, you know.”
I frowned. There had to be a lot of money at stake at an event like this. I wondered if anyone in the crowd wanted money badly enough to kill for it, and if so, what it had to do with Armond and Margery.
“Well, Charles, I never expected to find you with a girl who wasn’t high fae like yourself,” Cynthia only lowered her voice a little, and the people at the next table probably still overheard her. “Your parents don’t object then?”
“No, of course not. Jane’s a very talented photographer.” Charles seemed to be intentionally using my name to press a point. I gave him a grateful glance.
Cynthia sniffed at his comment and looked away from me. “Interesting. Well, I suppose Haven Corp’s holdings will increase after all this. That is the purpose of this gala, isn’t it?”
Her husband frowned in her direction. Then he turned to Charles and broached a new topic. “It’s a way to increase public support. But I believe you’re supporting a few charities as well with this, correct?”
A peacemaker. Someone after my own heart.
“Yes, tonight’s event will support increased technology and security for schools,” Charles said. “We’re actually hoping to make SaferLoc completely free for educators.”
“I can’t think of a better use for it.” I leaned close and took Charles’s arm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a few photos before our food arrives. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I took my camera out of its case, hoping to catch some PR shots for Charles but mostly planning to use it as an excuse to move around the room and get some baseline shots.
I moved over to the table where Ashley and Kyle sat with a few other Haven Corp employees. Then I took a few photos and stepped closer, turning my back to them as if shooting something in the other direction.
“I don’t know if this job’s worth it,” Ashley muttered to Kyle. “I mean, I know the money is good. But the stress is killing me.”
I looked over my shoulder. Kyle looked despondent. “I really hoped SaferLoc would turn things around.”
A server delivering salads interrupted their conversation. I took a moment to jot a few things down in my notebook.
“Oh, hi Jane.” A familiar voice made me jump, and I spun around, ending up face to face with Darcy Valemont.
“Hi, I forgot you were going to be here. You’re the MC tonight?
Good to see you.” I smiled and tucked my notebook back into my bag.
Darcy looked dapper as usual in a black tux.
The tall, high-fae prince with dark hair and vivid green eyes stood out in a crowd.
Too bad Lizzy had such a negative view of him.
“I am. We’ll get started after everyone has eaten. Charles mentioned you were helping shoot photos tonight.” He smiled and reached out to shake my hand.
He’d interrupted my investigation, but I remained calm and casual. “Yes. I’m sure Charles would love to say hello. I’ll show you to our table.”
“Oh, looks like your girlfriend’s brought back a prince.” Mrs. De Bourgh chuckled as I approached the table.
“Girlfriend?” Darcy started and looked between me and Charles.
Charles’s eyes widened, and he nodded. He hopped up from his seat and led both of us out of earshot of the De Bourghs. “How’s it going, Darcy?”
“All right. What’s this about the two of you being a couple?” Darcy reached toward his friend, shaking his hand and pulling him into a hug.
“Uh, it just kind of happened…” Charles looked almost embarrassed and shrugged.
I stepped back and folded my arms over my body. My tone was businesslike. “Charles, does Darcy know about Armond?”
Darcy tipped his head a bit to the side and furrowed his brow. “I heard he passed away.”
Charles interrupted. “We suspect foul play.”
“You don’t think…?” Darcy’s eyes widened.
Charles shook his head. “I don’t think it’s related to the fae or Moonrot. Jane’s aunt helped us with a seer spell. The objects weren’t in direct view of the murder, but they were close enough. We have no reason to believe magic was involved.”
I bit my lip, hoping Darcy didn’t disapprove of my aunt’s involvement. The magic in my family amounted to little more than parlor tricks to someone like him.
“We suspected Lance, but now we don’t know,” I blurted, looking around to make sure no one heard me. “He and Armond fought about something before the murder. But we’ve learned a bit more…”
“So then you have local law enforcement looking into it?” Darcy asked.
“They’re no help. Charles is on their list of suspects,” I grumbled.
“Furthermore, someone murdered our first photographer, Margery Blake, a couple days ago,” said Charles.
“We’re going to need to look into this, Charles. I need to be certain it’s not connected to the Moonrot investigation.” Darcy’s green eyes flashed bright blue for a moment.
Charles nodded.