Pattern of Betrayal (Vineyard Quilt Mysteries Book 2) (16 page)

Julie nodded. “It was peanuts, but Joyce is going to be fine.”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “I’ll clean out the pantry tomorrow. I don’t know how it happened—maybe some type of cross-contamination.”

Or purposeful contamination
, Julie thought. “I’m sure it was just an unfortunate accident.”

“Still.” Hannah was clearly distraught over the incident.

Julie suspected Hannah would throw out the remaining ingredients from the evening meal and offer to pay for it herself if need be.

“I need you to think back for a moment,” Julie said. “Do you remember seeing Carrie at the dining table Friday night?”

“Of course.”

“OK. But was she there when you served the entrée?”

“Yes. Well, I’m pretty sure.” Hannah frowned as she tried to recall. “I mean, I took her a plate. She had to have been there. You don’t think—?”

“I don’t know.” Julie perched on the edge of Hannah’s small bed. “The problem is, I can’t remember that specific detail.”

“Even if she wasn’t at the table, that doesn’t mean she killed Alice.” Hannah sat up a little taller. “Also, if she hadn’t been there, don’t you think someone would have mentioned it?”

“You’re right.” Julie ran her hand through her hair, an unthinking gesture she often did when she was frustrated.

“Although, she does have an amazing ability to go unnoticed,” Hannah said.

Julie was going to be so glad when this weekend was over. In less than twenty-four hours, crime solved or not, the police
had to at least let the guests leave town. That time couldn’t come soon enough.

Julie pushed up from the bed and smiled at her friend. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

Hannah murmured her goodnight as Julie let herself out of the room.

She heard the lock click into place as she started down the hall.

Julie made her way through the kitchen, resisting the urge to grab a snack. True, dinner had been a complete fiasco. She’d eaten only about half of her meal before Joyce collapsed. And after that, her appetite had done a swift disappearing act—until now. But hungry or not, eating this late was not good for the thighs, no matter how tasty that last piece of cinnamon cake looked.

She walked toward the front of the inn for one last check before she headed upstairs.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Gah!” Julie whirled around, hand pressed to her chest. “Carrie!” she gasped. “I thought you went to bed.”

Carrie shook her head and stared at the scuffed toes of her ugly brown shoes. “I just needed some time to …” She glanced off to the side, seeming to look at nothing as she bit her lip. “I need to tell you something.”

Julie could hardly miss the ominous tone in Carrie’s words. “All right. What is it?”

“Can we talk somewhere private?”

“How about we take a walk?” Julie suggested. She couldn’t bear the thought of sitting across from Carrie and watching her shrink under her gaze.

Carrie nodded, and the two of them made their way to the back door in silence.

The night breeze had turned cool, and Carrie pulled her too-big sweater a little tighter around her. Julie wished she’d taken the time to put on something with sleeves. Instead, she rubbed the goose bumps on her arms and led the way to the garden path.

The air was filled with the perfume of sweet violets and hyacinths. Julie inhaled the soothing scents and waited for Carrie to begin, bracing herself for whatever was to come.

Finally, the girl drew in a deep breath and said, “I know where the book is.”

Julie stopped dead in her tracks.

Carrie continued to walk on, stumbling a bit as the path grew uneven. She paused when she realized she’d left Julie behind.

Julie forced her feet into motion. “You mean the Civil War journal?”

Carrie nodded.

“You know where it is—right this very moment?”

“Well, I know where it
was
.”

“OK … that’s good news. I think.” Julie motioned to a small wooden bench. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

Carrie took a seat and seemed to mull over her words as if deciding on the best place to start. “Fr-Friday night at dinner, I had to go to the bathroom.”

“Was this before or after Alice—?”

“Before.” Carrie ducked her head and twisted her hands in her lap. “I had just finished my entrée, and I thought I should go before we started dessert. I was pretty sure I could get to the bathroom and back before the ‘big moment’ in the mystery play.”

The big moment that never happened.

“So, I slipped out and went to the restroom that’s down
the hall from your office. I was washing my hands when the power went off.” She gave a delicate shudder. “It was unnerving to be in such a closed space with it so dark, so I dried my hands as quickly as possible and stepped out into the hall. I figured the mystery had begun, and I wanted to get back to my seat before the lights came back on. Unfortunately, the hallway was as dark as the bathroom.”

Julie nodded encouragingly, though inside she was praying that Carrie didn’t confess to the murder right there on the garden bench.

“So, I’m standing there in the hall,” Carrie said, “and I see someone coming toward me.” She paused, furrowing her brows. “He held a flashlight in one hand and the book in the other.”

“He?” Julie asked. “You’re saying it was a man?”

“I think so.” She wrinkled her nose in uncertainty. “The light flashed in my eyes, and it was hard to see.”

Of course.
Julie tried not to let her frustration show. But she suspected whoever Carrie saw holding the light and the book was also responsible for the power outage. How else would they have known that a flashlight would be needed?

“All right. So you
think
it was a man,” Julie said. “What about the book?”

“It was definitely the journal you showed us.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Julie asked. “It was dark. You’re not even certain if a man or woman was holding it.”

“I’m sure.” Carrie untwisted her fingers, seeming to grow a little more relaxed as she continued her story. “I think I surprised him as much as he surprised me. But I knew he wasn’t supposed to have the book.”

“Even though you couldn’t see his face?”

“It wasn’t his book,” Carrie said.

“True enough.”

“But when I said as much, he jeered at me.”

Jeered?
Julie frowned.

“So I took it from him. The lights came back on, and he ran away before I could get a good look at him. I put the book in the game cabinet and went back into the dining room.”

“Why did you hide the book in the game cabinet?”

Carrie began to fidget again. “I don’t know. I figured the evening was about to start. I could always go back and get it later and return it to you then.”

Julie shook her head. “OK. You went back into the dining room. What happened next?”

“That was when Susan started screaming,” Carrie said.

“So, the journal is in the game cabinet?” It took every ounce of Julie’s willpower not to spring off the bench and go look.

Carrie shook her head sadly. “I went back for it the next morning, but it was gone.”

Deflated, Julie slumped back on the bench. “Why did you wait so long to go back for it?”

“It was late by the time the police left.” Carrie shrugged. “I’ve been … working a lot lately and needed some rest. I figured it was safe enough, hidden in the cabinet, so I went on to bed.”

Julie didn’t miss the small pause before the word “working.” She asked, “What kind of work do you do?”

“This and that.” Carrie jumped to her feet like Jack springing from his box. “I guess I should go to bed now. That’s all I wanted to tell you. Good night.” She started to leave, but Julie stopped her.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before now?” Julie asked, struggling to keep her anger at bay.

“I wasn’t sure how you would take it.”

“And you have absolutely no guess as to who the mystery person in the hallway might have been? Not even an inkling?”

Carrie shook her head, but Julie got the impression the girl was still holding something back.

“I’m glad you told me,” Julie said, giving Carrie a reassuring smile. “Do you think the thief saw you put the journal in the game cabinet?”

“No.” Carrie pushed at her sleeves again. “I was all alone when I stashed it.”

Julie sighed with defeat.
Given the number of visitors we’ve had meandering through the inn this weekend, anyone could have the journal now.

After Carrie went upstairs for the third time that evening, Julie promptly checked the game cabinet.

The old cabinet sat outside the dining room near the first-floor sitting room. Board games, decks of cards, dominos, and more were stacked inside. The purpose of the cabinet was to encourage guests to enjoy one another’s company and also add to the homey atmosphere that Millie had created. After all, man could not live by quilting alone.

But Julie hadn’t seen too many guests play with the games during their stay. Most times, they preferred to be out touring the town, quilting, or visiting with resident storyteller Shirley.

As quietly as she could, Julie removed all the games from the cabinet and set them neatly to the side, perusing through boxes as she went, to see if by some strange deed, the journal had ended up inside one of them. But the effort proved useless. The book simply wasn’t there.

With a sigh, she began the arduous task of putting everything back inside, fitting the boxes together in the small space like a jigsaw puzzle. The fact was, any tourist or guest with a dishonest bent could have happened by during all the commotion over the last three days and taken the book. The list of possible thieves was a mile long.

If the culprit was one of the visitors, then there wasn’t a single thing she could do.

But if it was one of the guests …

Julie stood and started climbing the stairs toward her room on the third floor. She found the second floor quiet except for the gentle snores of one of her guests. If she had to guess, she’d say Kenneth. He looked like a snorer.

The third floor was even quieter. She wasn’t sure if it was because Carrie had gone to sleep already or because she was just being her normal wallflower self.

Once inside her room, Julie rolled the tension from her neck and changed into her pajamas. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she’d dressed for the day. So much had happened since the morning.

She padded to the bathroom, pulled her thick hair back into a sloppy ponytail, and washed her face. Once her teeth were brushed, she turned out the light and crawled beneath the covers. Her body was more than ready to give in to the urge to get some much-needed rest.

But her mind was not. She squeezed her eyes shut as her thoughts raced.

Should she call Detective Frost and tell him what Carrie had relayed to her? She figured she should, but the last thing she wanted to do was face the detective’s keen eyes again so soon. There were times when his attitude made her feel like he believed she brought all of this onto herself, as if Straussberg
had never experienced any real crime until she showed up.

No, she wouldn’t call him. At least not right now. She was bone weary and not in the mood. If she was going to call anyone at this hour, it would be Daniel Franklin. She could use a dose of his deep voice and charming smile. Maybe she would call him tomorrow. Or if luck was truly on her side, he would drop in to see how things were going.

As if that’s going to happen.
She hadn’t had much in the way of good luck since she’d set foot on Missouri soil.

“J
ulie,” a male voice said. She turned to see Liam rushing down the stairs toward

her the next morning. He smiled politely. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” “Of course,” she said, though what she really wanted to do was duck into the tearoom and snatch another cup of coffee. Coming off of a fitful night of very little sleep, she knew she’d need all of the caffeine she could get to survive the day.

“I know I’m supposed to leave tonight, but I was wondering if I could rent my room for a while longer.”

Julie blinked. “You want to stay here
longer
?”