“Squeak!” Yep. She put the vial in the top vanity drawer and the syringe in the pocket of her wedding dress.
I grinned. So Letty had the syringe on her when she left the bridal suite. Which meant she either lost it or it was stolen between there and the altar! I smiled at the fuzzy little guy. Thanks, Bart.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I thought it over. Who did she have contact with on the way to the altar? I’d have to check with Peter and see if any witnesses had mentioned something.
I turned back to the bat. Anything else you can tell me?
Hmm. The bat used one hooked finger to scratch his cheek. Oh! She kept a journal!
My heart picked up its pace—now this was a good lead. I squeaked. Any idea where it is?
Follow me! The bat dropped from the helmet and flapped down the hallway, squeaking as it went. He led me back to the bridal suite where Letty’s body had been found and landed, spread eagle, on the back of one of the winged chairs. It’s inside the cushion.
I frowned. Inside it? I bent over and lifted the cushion. The back had a zipper, so I undid it and reached in. Hidden among the stuffing, my fingers closed around a leather notebook about half an inch thick. I pulled it out and grinned at Bart. Thanks, buddy!
I hope it helps. Letty didn’t deserve to die.
He climbed to the top of the chair, then took off out the open window. I turned around and ducked under the police tape that crisscrossed the doorway. I’d padded halfway back to the library when May, the maid, darted toward me.
“Gah!” I pressed a hand to my chest, then relaxed when I realized it was her. “Sorry—you startled me.”
I side-stepped to move past her, but she blocked my way, eyes wide. “Wait.”
I froze as she moved close, her voice a whisper.
“The day of the wedding, a man came to the door and asked to see Mr. Harrington. He met him outside and they had a tense conversation.” She shook her head, her tight curls bouncing. “I didn’t overhear all of it, but it was something about the man demanding more money for something.” Her throat bobbed.
It took me a moment to process all that. “Why are you telling me this? Couldn’t it get you in trouble with your employers?”
Her brows pinched together. “I liked Letty—I was rooting for her, you know? She was one of us.”
I frowned and opened my mouth to ask her how she knew I was from the Darkmoon also, but then I glanced down at my ratty band tee and hole-filled jeans. I clearly wasn’t from the upper tiers of Bijou Mer, so, fair enough.
May nodded. “I want Letty to get justice.”
“Well, thanks. Me, too.” I frowned as she started past me. “Hey, before you go.”
She paused and looked over her shoulder.
“Did Letty stop and talk to anyone on her way from the bridal suite to the altar?”
“Hmm.” May’s gaze grew far away as she turned back to face me. “She hugged Mr. And Mrs. Harrington.”
I raised my brows. “Hugged?”
She smirked. “Well… they did air kisses.”
I grinned—that sounded more their style.
“And on her way down the aisle, poor thing tripped—she said she wasn’t used to wearing heels, and she looked so nervous I thought she might lose her breakfast, except that I knew she hadn’t had any.”
I tipped my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I brought breakfast to her door, but she didn’t open it. She said she wasn’t hungry.”
“Then where did the strawberries come from?”
May shook her head. “I don’t know, but I certainly didn’t bring them to her.” She leaned closer. “I don’t know for certain, but I think I saw Rachel Whitmore stick her foot out and trip Letty. Several guests rushed forward and helped her up.”
I nodded. “Thanks.” Wow. Poor Letty—these people were vicious. At least some of them had helped her.
And that meant Chaz’s parents, Rachel, and any of the guests who rushed to help her up would have been close enough to pickpocket the syringe out of her dress. It also might have just rolled out when she fell, but that didn’t explain what happened to the vial she’d stashed in the dresser drawer. Plus, we needed to figure out who this man who’d shown up at the castle demanding money from Mr. Harrington was.
May moved down the hall, and I headed in the opposite direction with Letty’s diary tucked under my arm.
13
P.I.
When I reentered the library, a tense silence hung over the room. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the ticking of the grandfather clock.
I raised my brows. “What’d I miss?”
Peter looked up and jumped to his feet. “Did you get any good information from the bat?”
“Mm-hmm.” I winked at Peter as I passed Mr. Harrington still reading in his chair by the fire.
His wife scoffed and rolled her eyes. “As if a bat is going to hold the key to that girl’s death.”
Her husband lowered his book. “Marcy…” His tone held a warning.
She threw up her perfectly manicured hands. “What?” She looked to Chaz, still splayed on the chaise, and the lawyer, who now paced behind him. “Someone has to say what we’re all thinking. The girl killed herself—she couldn’t handle the pressure of so many scrutinizing eyes on her.”
Wow—what a sympathetic mother-in-law Letty had had. Chaz said nothing in defense of his dead wife, either. My chest burned with annoyance—again, I longed to get justice for Letty.
I crossed the room and stood beside Peter, Daisy on his other side. The dog’s head swiveled from one of the suspects to the next, her brow pinched in confusion. She sniffled. I can’t tell who’s lying. She curled her lip at me and whined. I feel so useless and
