The Butler Didn't Do It (A Maddox Storm Mystery Book 2) (6 page)

Miss Crawley did not let Jenna’s scorn distract her. “I did a little digging into your guest list after I retired earlier this evening.”

“You have resources to do background checks?” Nate said.

“I’ll plead the fifth on that,” she said, a smile twitching her lips. “In this case, however, Google proved sufficient.” She patted my arm. “I wasn’t snooping, dear, I was just being thorough. Nowadays, one can never be too careful about who you associate with.”

“What exactly are you saying?” I asked her. “That some of my guests are members of this GRIMMS?”

“All of your guests, dear. Well, besides me, if we’re being accurate,” she added. “My membership lapsed in ’94.”

I turned from her, my enlightened eyes skipping over the room.

Jack was still stationed in the archway; Burns was napping in the stately gold and brown damask wingback chair. Joe had wandered over to join Jonas at the bar and was in the process of pouring himself a drink. Ensconced on the same sofa as the dozing Parkers, Mr Hollow was nursing a large glass of port and looking no more disgruntled than usual. Julie Brown perched on the edge of her chair. Mason Sash and Charles Sitter stood near the French doors that opened onto the terrace.

And Lydia Fieldman, of course, was dead.

My gaze retraced the path from guest to guest and hardened. One of them was a murderer. All of them were deceivers, pretending to not know each other.

Or maybe I was being paranoid.

“Is GRIMMS mainly an online club?” I asked. “I mean, is it possible they don’t even recognize each other as fellow members?”

“Jonas Mayer, perhaps,” Miss Crawley told me. “The others, however, are Honored Masters and besides their induction ceremony, the society hosts an annual banquet and attendance is mandatory for the Honored Masters.”

I glanced at her. “Were you an Honored Master?”

“Goodness, no. I only dabbled in master sleuthing, something of a hobby.” She chuckled softly, then grew serious. “The point I was trying to make, dear, is that you’ve given them a genuine murder mystery to solve instead of the usual whodunit out-of-the-box variety.” She pursed her lips, giving me a sympathetic look. “They’re not going anywhere, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll see about that.” I braced myself for the fallout and addressed them in a firm, no-nonsense voice. “I’m truly sorry for the upheaval, but remaining here is not an option. If you’d prefer to find your own accommodation, then we’ll cover any cost up to the same value as Fortune Paradise.”

“You can’t kick us out,” Charles said in a haughty tone.

Julie Brown stuck her nose up so high, she had to peer at me through the bottoms of her spectacles. “You’ll regret this.”

“You will,” Miss Crawley murmured. “The Honored Masters are responsible for approving—and blacklisting—new venues. If they veto Hollow House, you’ll never host another murder mystery weekend again.”

“That won’t be an issue,” I informed her. “I’m done with murder, real or otherwise.”

Nate stepped in. “Folks, come on, don’t let’s forget that someone is dead.”

“And we intend to find out who did it,” Jonas said. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve solved this case and seen justice done for Lydia.”

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Charles grunted.

“Good God,” Nate breathed out. “I’m dealing with a litter of Sherlock Holmes wannabes.”

I raised my voice and spoke to the room, “I’m sure you appreciate the situation is beyond my control.”

“You’re the proprietor, are you not?” said Julie. “I don’t see anyone else throwing us out in the cold of night.”

“We’ll sue,” Jonas threatened.

“They will,” Miss Crawley said. “They’ve done it before.”

Who were they going to sue?

The state?

“Hollow House is a crime scene,” I reminded them. “There’s nothing I can do if the police have decided to close us down until further notice.”

“Balderdash.” Mr Hollow fumbled for his cane and lurched to his feet. “No crime has been committed at Hollow House. That tree stands a good five yards past the border of my property.”

Are you kidding me?

I hustled myself on over there before he could do any more damage. George Hollow was an irascible old dodger, and my partner. Fifty-fifty on paper, but that was for the inn as an ongoing business concern. The stake I’d bought with Joe’s money specifically excluded any fixed assets, such as the house and grounds, and that tilted the balance of power heavily in Mr Hollow’s favor. Actually, it also excluded non-fixed assets like furniture and the family portraits, thank goodness.

Mr Hollow saw me coming. His shaggy white brows burrowed in and he straightened his rail-thin frame.

I’d changed into flats after scrubbing the mud from my feet and the top of my head levelled out with this chin, which made it technically impossible for me to scowl down on him. That didn’t mean I couldn’t give it my best effort.

“What are you doing?” I whispered somewhere in the region of his ear.

“Setting the record straight,” he said with a harrumph.

“I’m trying to calm the situation and avoid a lawsuit.” I pulled back to glare up at him. “And
you
are not helping.”

“Be that as it may,” he said after a moment’s consideration, “I’ll not have people thinking there’s been another murder at Hollow House.”

“But there has been another murder at Hollow House,” I said, thoroughly exasperated.

“No, there hasn’t.” He stomped his cane on the floor for emphasis and said loudly for everyone to hear, “That woman was not murdered on my property. Hollow House is not a crime scene.”

“Stop doing that!” I was ready to tear my hair out. I lowered my voice, leant in close again. “How am I supposed to kick these people out when you keep telling them I’ve got no legal reason to do so?”

“Oh, let them stay,” he said with a benevolent air. “They’re not nearly as tedious as I’d feared. If I can put up with them, then so can you, Maddox, since you’re the one who invited them.”

“It has crossed your mind, has it not,” I snipped, “that one of them is a murderer?”

“Of course it… What…?” He swallowed with visible difficulty, paled as he snuck a furtive glance around and then promptly slumped back down in his chair.

Okay, so maybe it hadn’t crossed his mind.
Seriously?

Ella Parker gave a sigh of pure contentment without bothering to wake up, tucked her legs in on the sofa and snuggled deeper into her husband’s side.

Julie Brown popped up from the edge of her chair. “Now that everything’s settled, I’ll be off to bed.” She nudged her spectacles and gave a restrained yawn. “It’s been quite an evening.”

“Excellent idea.” Charles thumped his chest and followed her across the room. “This old ticker needs a solid eight hours.”

Mason wasn’t far behind. He detoured past Jenna, paused to say something, then slipped out with a wave to Jack, who’d kindly stepped aside to allow the mass exodus of suspects through. Nate was every bit as useless. He just stood there, watching the proceedings with his phone pressed to his ear.

Jonas scurried from the bar after Mason like the last rat fleeing a sinking ship, except instead of fleeing, they were swarming along the passages and up the stairs to their respective rooms.

“How very rude.” Miss Crawley offered me a sympathetic look. “There’s no accounting for some people.”

I smiled weakly. “I’ll give you a ride into town when you’re ready,” I said, not wanting her to drive home alone in the middle of the night.

“No need, my dear, I’ll just see myself upstairs,” she said and excused herself with a general goodnight to what was left of our party.

The steady stream flowing past finally stirred Burns to squeeze one eye open, then seamlessly rise to resume his butlery duties.

“Should we attempt to rouse them?” he murmured when he came across the Parkers on his way to lock the French doors.

“Don’t bother,” I said, accepting my lost cause for what it was. “I’ll grab a blanket from the linen closet to throw over them.”

Joe strolled closer, cradling his glass of whiskey in one hand. “Am I the only one worried that one of those people just killed a woman?”

“Yes, Joe,” I said, my tone acerbic sweet. “That’s why I was trying to shut the place down as a crime scene, because I’m not at all worried about anything.”

“That’s that, then,” Nate stated, walking up with a determined look set on me. “You’ll want to pack a bag.”

“What?”

“You’re not staying here,” he told me firmly.

“Maddie can stay with me,” Jenna said as she and Jack joined us. To me, she added, “For as long as you like.”

“Thanks, Jenna, but…” I glanced around, shrugged. “I can’t run off and leave Burns and Mr Hollow here with a potential killer in their midst.”

“What about me?” Joe said indignantly.

Jenna sent him a glare. “You are not welcome in my home.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he grumbled.

“You as well, Joe,” I sighed. “I wouldn’t run off and leave you with a killer either.”

Nate scrubbed his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he studied the faces of his latest problem. “Okay, my cabin’s a fifteen minute drive from here and I have two guest bedrooms.” That narrowed gaze slid from Burns to Mr Hollow as he spoke, then landed on Joe. “I’ll drop you off at Fortune Paradise.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Mr Hollow gripped the arms of his chair, as if anchoring himself in case anyone decided to forcibly remove him. “I won’t be pushed out of my own home by a bunch of murderous miscreants running loose.”

Burns nodded in agreement. “Lord knows what they’ll get up to if left unsupervised, and we’ve just had the drapes and carpets professionally cleaned.”

I chose to believe they were referring to our guests rather than me, even when Burns pricked me with his beady eyes.

“Mr Hollow,” Nate said, “I’m not sure you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

“I’m not senile yet,” Mr Hollow blustered, his heavy-browed stare boring into me. “And this is exactly what I warned you about when you put up that webbed page of yours. Did I not say we’d have all sorts of strangers descending out of the blue? Well, look at us now, a house full of riff-raff.”

“It’s a web page and we’re an inn,” I said wearily. “Taking in strangers is what we do.”

“Discerning strangers,” he said stubbornly. “The type of folk who’d bother to pick up a brochure. The type of folk with the sense to rely on recommendations from respectable acquaintances. The type of folk who wouldn’t be mixed up with people apt to get themselves killed for no good reason.”

Sure, blame the dead woman.

I bit down on my snarky tongue, though, because Mr Hollow kind of had a point. He had warned me. And if I’d listened to his dire preaching, we wouldn’t have a murderer bedding down with us tonight. We likely wouldn’t have a single paying guest all year either, but that wasn’t the thing to focus on right now.

I turned to Nate. “I made this mess and I’m not going anywhere until I’ve cleaned it up.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Jenna said quickly. “But if you’re staying, then so am I.”

“You’re coming home with me,” Jack corrected her.

The blue in Jenna’s eyes darkened as she rounded on him. “You’re not my keeper.”

“But I am your boyfriend,” he said, “and don’t think your midnight stroll with that dream-boy skipped my notice.”

Her anger crumpled. “Jack, it isn’t what you—”

“It had better not be.” He shoved a hand through his coppery curls and his mouth pulled flat in a grim line, but there was no sign of outrageous anger that I could discern. “I’m not the jealous sort, Jenna, but how would you feel if I took up moon-gazing with another woman?”

Jenna chewed her lower lip.

“Yeah,” Jack drawled. “So I figure you owe me one and I’m calling it in. I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

“I thought you weren’t the jealous sort,” she retorted.

“I’m not,” he said. “But I draw the line when the guy you’re chatting up could be fantasying over a hundred ways to get your neck into a noose.”

That was about as much as it took to melt Jenna into his strong arms.

I was officially impressed. Jenna had a rather colorful history, mostly tall, dark, handsome and predominately alpha, and none had ever managed her quite as well as the gentle-spirited Jack.

I assured Jenna I’d be fine before I waved her off, but that didn’t stop her from threatening the wrath of God down upon both Joe and Nate’s head if anything happened to me in my sleep.

SIX

I suppose I should have blamed Jenna for my predicament, but I preferred to blame the man who’d strong-armed his way into my bedroom.
And
Joe, who’d slipped through the crack when Nate had aborted my attempt to slam the door in his face with lightning quick reflexes and a booted foot.

“There are unoccupied rooms below,” Joe said to me. “He’s not sleeping in here.”

“I’m happy to take any other room on this floor.” Nate leant a hip against the wall and folded his arms. “That’s as far as I’m willing to go.”