Chapter Eight
Eight
It took me a moment to process Melody’s words. Sebastian had been in my bookstore just the day before, laughing and joking and taking pictures with fans. It seemed impossible that he was dead now, but this being Raven Creek, I had learned early that the Reaper could pop up for people at unexpected times.
“What do you mean, someone killed him?” Maybe the shock of the event had rattled her. If he had died, it must have been by natural means. This sweet little B and B was hardly the kind of place you would imagine someone meeting with foul play.
Melody, hiccupping from how hard she’d been crying, mimed a stabbing motion with an invisible knife. “Right in the back. I found him in his bed this morning.” This set her off crying again, and a female police officer came over to see what the new commotion was about.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
I shook my head vigorously. “Sorry, she’s just one of my . . . guests?” Was that even the right word? I had helped coordinate booking these rooms, so I couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for whatever had happened to Sebastian at the inn. I’d brought him to Raven Creek, and now he was dead. Was there some warning sign I should have seen, something to indicate the star was in danger?
I immediately thought about Deacon and how high-tension things had been at the shop yesterday. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I decided to see if Raven Creek’s resident detective was around before I started to cast blame on complete strangers. But the argument in the store definitely pointed to some bad blood between Sebastian and Deacon.
But was a rift between former besties enough to drive someone to commit murder? I’d heard of stranger motives.
The police officer, whom I didn’t recognize, seemed to infer from my statement that I worked at the B and B and just gave a nod. I didn’t bother to correct her, because an overwhelming urge to see what was going on in the cozy little house had beckoned me through the door.
More uniformed officers buzzed around inside, and everything was such a hive of activity that no one noticed I had slipped in. In a small room off the entrance that I assumed was a sitting area or maybe a library, a few people were sitting together, whispering and wearing shell-shocked expressions. I didn’t recognize any of them, so I assumed they were other guests at the B and B.
As I walked down the hallway, careful to avoid drawing attention to myself, I entered a large dining area at the back of the main floor. There I found some faces I knew. Connor, the social media assistant, was sitting at the large dining table with his hands folded neatly in his lap, his cheeks completely drained of color and a concerned but confused look on his face. I’d known he must be young, but right now he looked more like a little boy than anything else.
Beside him was Travis, the rep from the publishing house.
At the end of the table, much to my surprise, was the lawyer I had seen Leo arguing with a few days earlier. Unlike the suit-wearing, sneering man I’d encountered in the grocery store, this version of him still had pillow creases on his face and a robe over his pajamas that looked threadbare at the cuffs and elbows.
The B and B, while cozy, was an old Victorian house like mine and had at least a dozen guest suites, so I wasn’t surprised to see so many people were checked in at the height of summer tourist season.
I turned my attention back to Connor and Travis, specifically Travis, who seemed to have realized I was in the room and wore a quizzical expression. “Ms. Winchester?”
Connor and the lawyer both looked at me, though neither reacted very much. The lawyer kept glancing around like he was looking for someone. Or at least looking for someone to complain to. Connor just seemed like he wanted to have someone tell him what to do. I was close enough to him that I placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze of comfort. His knees were bouncing, his scuffed Converse sneakers looking out of place with the pajama pants he was still wearing.
“I was on my way to the hike,” I explained. “I drove by and saw the commotion and then saw Melody. Is it true?” I didn’t have a reason to doubt Melody, since she had claimed to be the one to find the body, but I was hoping she might have misunderstood. For some reason the idea that Sebastian had been murdered was just too much for me to want to believe.
Travis nodded grimly. “I’m sorry to say, but yes. It seems someone killed Sebastian last night.”
“When did you see him last?” I asked, wondering if the killer might have been someone else staying at the inn or if Sebastian had gone out and bad fortune had followed him home.
“I went to bed around ten. I think he was in the library then, making notes for the hike. Oh heavens, I suppose we need to cancel that.” Travis glanced down at the phone in front of him but made no move to pick it up, as if the effort were just suddenly too much. “And the book tour.” It was hard to tell whether he was more broken up about canceling the book tour or about Sebastian’s death.
“I’ll take care of the hike, don’t worry.” I pulled out my phone and sent Daphne a message, trying to keep things vague to limit worries. Sebastian can’t attend the hike, please let everyone know they can go on their own or just head home.
I was oddly grateful—and felt guilty for my gratitude—that the hike had been a free event and I wouldn’t need to issue a huge batch of refunds in light of what had happened today. That might have been callous, but the brain does funny things when confronted with tragedy.
Nodding at Travis to let him know at least one crisis was averted, I asked him and Connor, “Do you know what time he usually goes to bed?”
Travis shook his head, but Connor spoke up, his voice barely over a whisper. “He was really excited about tomorrow. He told me he was going to stay up doing more research. He normally goes to sleep by midnight, but I had messages on my phone from him when I got up this morning. The last one was around two thirty—he sent me a list of content ideas he wanted to focus on for today.” He let out a little shuddering sigh. “He was so excited.”
I didn’t think I’d get much more out of the two of them. My gaze drifted over to the lawyer at the end of the table. It was obvious he’d been listening to us, but he was playing with the cuff of his robe as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. I knew sooner or later I’d probably need to deal with him about other issues, but now was not the time to confront him.
The unmistakable sound of a throat clearing brought my attention to the doorway behind me, where Detective Patsy Martin was standing, one hand propped on her hip and a clear expression of annoyance on her face.
“Phoebe.”
“Morning, Detective.”
“Mm-hmm.” She jerked her head toward the hallway, and I followed her out of the room. “Now, I know your cat didn’t stumble across this body, Ms. Winchester, so do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
I quickly explained how the morning’s schedule was meant to play out, and while I could tell she didn’t really buy it as an excuse for my meddling, she did take notes on the things I’d learned before she arrived.
“There’s one more thing,” I added, wondering if I might regret bringing it up, but it felt reckless not to share what I knew. “Sebastian’s former business partner showed up to the reading yesterday afternoon. There was some pretty obvious tension with him, Sebastian, and Melody. He was supposed to hang around to talk to them after the signing, but when it was all over, he’d just split.”
“You think there could have been some bad blood there?” Detective Martin asked.
“Absolutely. You could ask any of the attendees in the crowd last night, because the three of them didn’t do much to hide their feelings.”
“Do you have a list of attendees from your event?”
I nodded. “I can send you the folks who prebought copies and RSVP’d for the signing. There were probably a handful more who walked in, but it would be most of them.”
She took a few more notes before closing her pad. For a moment she just scrubbed her hand over her short black Afro, and then she let out a long sigh. “I’m going to regret this, I just know it.” She said it mostly to herself, and then she looked at me, obviously still weighing whether or not she wanted to say what she was about to say. “Phoebe, it would appear you have some inside awareness of the people involved in this case and some of their dynamics. It would be very helpful to us if we could leverage some of that connection and your existing relationship with the witnesses to help our case.”
I stared at her.
She stared back.
“Detective Martin, are you . . . are you asking me to help you?” I had been dead certain that the moment she saw me at the crime scene, I was going to hear no end of it in terms of a lecture. I had a bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time when bad things happened in Raven Creek. For a while I’d been worried Detective Martin might start believing I was responsible for some of the unfortunate events I’d been around for. But it appeared that she was now realizing it might be useful to have someone around during investigations who wasn’t a police officer.
“I’m already questioning my sanity, Winchester. Don’t make me change my mind. I know you, and I know you’ll make your PI boyfriend start snooping around anyway, so I think my best bet is to have you on my side.” She pointed a pen at me. “But I draw the line at deputizing your cat.”
“Bob has a finely tuned sense of justice; you have no idea what you’re missing.”
Before she could change her mind, I bid her a good morning and promised to be in touch when and if I heard anything, then I left the B and B. Just behind me on the steps were the EMTs. I half expected them to be carrying a zipped-up body bag, but they were merely toting their gear and sharing somber looks.
A moment later I realized why when the county coroner’s van pulled up.
I supposed they didn’t need an ambulance to move someone who was already gone.
Melody was no longer on the steps. She had started pacing up and down the sidewalk, though her attention was drawn by the coroner’s van, and she began to cry in earnest again. She started muttering to herself between sobs. “I never should have let him switch rooms. This is all my fault.”
What did that mysterious statement mean? Had someone broken into Sebastian’s room? Why would Melody blame herself for that?
Or was there some other reason she was feeling guilty?
Now wasn’t the moment to ask Melody logistical questions, considering the state she was in. Instead, I had to head to the trailhead to see if Daphne needed a hand explaining everything to the amassed bird fans. She was a capable employee but didn’t have an assertive bone in her body, so I wanted to make sure no one was giving her a hard time.
When I climbed into my car, I sent Rich a quick message. Hike canceled due to murder, call me when you can.
I had assumed he’d be sleeping, but instead I got an almost immediate response.
If you didn’t want to go on a hike you didn’t have to commit a crime to get out of it.