4
I’d called 911 first, and then I’d put in an emergency call to Special Agent in Charge Grant. It was necessary to give him warning. When the ambulance and the local police turned up, they would need to withdraw or risk revealing themselves.
The mission was critical. If Kyle realized I was protected by the NSIB, he would never strike. And we couldn’t trust that he hadn’t infiltrated the local police or sheriff’s department.
“—Charlie?” Detective Crowley, the handsome detective who handled major crime investigations for Gossip and the rest of the small Texas county, peered up into my face. There was no suspicion in his expression. Only concern. “You drifted off.”
“Sorry,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s been a long night.”
We were seated at a table in the Gossip Inn’s dining room. Most of the guests had been awoken by the commotion downstairs. The Wart sisters had been particularly distressed by the news of Jordan’s passing. They hovered on the first-floor landing, occasionally wandering down a few stairs until they were ushered back up again by my grandmother.
“I can imagine it’s been a long night,” Detective Crowley said, tapping the end of his ballpoint pen against the side of his notepad. “Let’s talk about what happened.”
“Right,” I said, grimly.
I told the detective about the noise from upstairs and how I’d discovered the hinged bookcase, the staircase, and, ultimately, the body.
Detective Crowley took notes, his dark eyes squinched up. “Tell me, did you see anything that could’ve caused the noise?” he asked.
“Caused it?”
“Yeah,” Detective Crowley said. “If Mr. Ames had decided to… well, you know, hang himself, he would’ve needed to use a chair or object to reach the noose.”
I grimaced, mostly to maintain my cover of terrified maid. “Oh, I see. No, there was no sign of a chair or anything else that might’ve made that noise. Detective, do you think someone else did this?”
“I can’t comment on that, Miss Smith.” Stiff professionalism had finally arrived. Detective Crowley cleared his throat. “Did Mr. Ames seem unhappy to you at all?”
“Unhappy?” I cast my mind back. “No. Not really. He was content in the kitten foster center. He enjoyed his job, and he was well fed, and had a roof over his friend. He got on with pretty much everyone, except…”
“Except?”
Shoot, I didn’t want to throw Hannah under the bus. “He’d been having arguments with Hannah Greerson lately. She’s the new assistant in the center.” I scratched the underside of my chin. “But she’s tiny. No way she’d be able to fight Jordan and string him up like that.”
Detective Crowley frowned at my nonchalance.
“I mean,” I cleared my throat. “She’s not strong enough to, uh, have done something as horrifying as what happened to Jordan.”
Detective Crowley’s frown remained, but he nodded. “Anything else you’ve noticed that might’ve been odd lately?”
You mean, apart from the secret agents watching my every move? “Nothing,” I said. “It’s been peaceful around here.”
Detective Crowley stared at me for a couple of seconds. “Are you OK, Charlie?”
“Me? Yeah, why?”
“I haven’t seen you around town lately.”
“Oh. Yeah, I’ve been busy with work, and the—uh, the kittens keep my pretty busy too. They’re needy little balls of fluff. Adorable, though.” I flashed him a smile, but it didn’t seem like he was buying it. “Do you need anything else, detective?”
“No, that’s it. For now.” He thanked me for my time, and I left him to his investigation.
I joined my grandmother at the base of the stairs. She drew me off to one side, her sharp gaze sweeping up the stairs to the Wart sisters, ensuring they didn’t break the rules. A police line had been placed over the doorway to the library.
“What did Crowley say?” I asked. “About the inn being a crime scene again.”
“He said they’ll cordon off the library again. Seal it up and go from there. It’s suspicious until they prove it was suicide.”
“But it wasn’t,” I said.
“Of course not.” Gamma’s reply was instant. “Jordan was happy as a clam. He had no reason to do this.”
“Do you think it’s connected to my friend?” I asked.
“Potentially.” Gamma knew by now that my ‘friend,’ was my ex-husband. “The circumstances are too suspicious to ignore. Jordan was familiar with the private entrances and exits of the inn. He might’ve gone up to the attic but…”
“You doubt it,” I said.
Gamma’s thin-lipped expression was all the response I needed.
She believed that a murderer had been up in the attic with Jordan. Now, we had to figure out who’d done it. The longer this investigation dragged on, the easier it would be for my ex-husband to interfere.
With the agents gone from their positions, he’d strike soon.
At least I’ll have more freedom.
Nerves built in my stomach, but I quashed them. It was time to get down to business.
5
Early the next morning, Gamma and I met in the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a good old-fashioned gossip. Technically, we were discussing the case, but that kind of talk was easily mistaken for regular chatter in Gossip.
I sipped my coffee while Gamma sat back in her chair, arms folded and heel tapping underneath her seat.
“I’ve never seen you this aggravated,” I said.
“There’s a lot at risk,” she replied. “And I liked Jordan. He was an excellent assistant, and after our initial introduction to him, he didn’t cause any trouble. I’m entirely unsure who would’ve taken issue with him in such an… aggravated fashion.”
“Same,” I said. “I don’t get it either. And I doubt Hannah would’ve done anything to him.”
Gamma sighed, shifting her cup across the table. “I agree. But who?”
We fell into an awkward silence.
“We need to know more,” I said, at last. “Who was he with last? What happened up there?”
“The crime scene. That should be our starting point.”
“But how do we get in there? Need I remind you that Grandpa removed your special equipment?”
“The old-fashioned way,” Gamma replied.
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Lauren bustled into
