Home Sweet Homicide: A Cozy Mystery (A Gemma Stone Murder Mystery Book 5) (4 page)

“I’m sorry you had to buy groceries,” Gemma said. She knew for a fact there had been no peas in the house. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Never you mind about that,” Aunt Maisy said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s delicious,” Gemma said.

“I’m not the cook your mother was but I try,” Maisy said, standing to place her own plate and glass in the dishwasher.

“So, Aunt Maisy, how long are you going to be in town?” Gemma asked, scraping the last of the cheesy deliciousness from her plate before her aunt took it away.

“Oh, I don’t have any real plans. I never stay in one place too long,” Maisy said, rinsing out the sink and wiping the countertops.

“How come?”

Maisy shrugged slender shoulders under the dress. “Just not that good with people, I guess. I seem to somehow make enemies without even trying.”

Gemma shivered, remembering the look in Cheryl Mack’s eyes as she flew up the sidewalk toward her, accusing her of being responsible for Katie Mack’s murder. She understood that feeling all too well.

“How did you find me anyway?” Gemma asked.

“It wasn’t hard. I actually tracked you down through your business, HealthGems.”

“Really?” Gemma’s head shot up in surprise.

Aunt Maisy placed a slice of chocolate cake in front of her. “Dessert.”

“So you didn’t have any problem finding the address when you got into town?” Gemma asked, remembering what she’d overheard between the two police officers.

Her aunt hesitated for a moment and then shook her head. “No, not really.”

The cake was moist and tender and the icing just sweet enough. It reminded her of her mother’s love of baking.

“I hope you plan on staying at least a few days,” Gemma said, suddenly grateful to have family in the house again. “I’m pretty busy but it would be fun to catch up on things.”

“Thank you,” Aunt Maisy said, her blue eyes glittering with tears. “That means so much to me.”

The black cat had been curled up sleeping on the rug in front of the sink. He lifted his head and meowed.

“I’m thinking he’s in agreement with that.”

Both women laughed.

After dinner, Gemma helped her aunt get settled in the guest bedroom, which had at one time been her father’s office. Deciding she didn’t really need an office, Gemma worked mostly from her tablet or laptop, this was the first room she had redecorated. The heavy wood bookshelves had been taken down and the dark paneling had been painted a lovely spring green color. She had taken down the wooden blinds and put up curtains with a lively floral print.

Those improvements along with the eyelet lace bed skirt and matching bedding made her smile. A small chair with a table and a lamp added to the coziness of the room at and she found a small dresser at an antique store that seemed to fit right in with the shabby chic décor. Her mother would have loved it. Best of all, it seemed to be the perfect room for Aunt Maisy.

The black cat that had been wandering in and out of the room all evening, finally hopped onto the foot of the bed. He turned around a couple of times, curled into a ball, tucked his tail around himself and went promptly to sleep.

“Well, someone made themselves right at home pretty quickly,” Gemma laughed. Stroking the inky black fur.

“He did indeed.”

Gemma had just finished putting fresh towels in the guest bath when the doorbell chimed for the second time that day. She looked up in surprise and she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. Some long strands of her hair had slipped free of her pony tail and she tucked them back inside as best she could.

She knew it wasn’t Holly at the door. They’d spoken on the phone just moments before, trying to decide what to do about their meeting with Essie Hunt the next day. Should they call and cancel? Just not show up? Surely, she was busy helping Katie’s mom with funeral arrangements. In the end they couldn’t decide. Both of them were too tired and they decided to put that decision off until the next morning.

She heard a man’s voice, muffled and unrecognizable but definitely male, and her aunt. Gemma’s nervousness ratcheted up a notch. Aunt Maisy had answered the door and let someone in the house. It might be Nick or Ross or a stranger. She’d have to talk to her about that.

“Gemma,” Aunt Maisy was coming down the hall, purple dress swishing softly around her legs “There’s a young man here to see you.”

Gemma closed her eyes, fought down the panic and stepped out into the hall. “I’ll be right there,” she said, wincing when she saw that Maisy was still wearing her witch hat.

That was something else she was going to have to bring up as soon as she got to know her aunt better. Why was she dressed like a witch? Gemma chided herself for being unable to just confront the problem head on, say what she thought. Holly would have already asked that question, along with more than a dozen others.

“I’ll be in my room to give you some privacy,” Aunt Maisy whispered with a conspiratory smile and a wink and then disappeared around the corner.

Unable to delay another moment, Gemma headed for the living room. It wasn’t Nick or Ross but a stranger sitting on her sofa, doing something with his cell phone. He looked like he’d walked right out of a detective novel. Clean shaven with his hair was neatly trimmed, parted on the side, he wore a dark gray suit, a purple shirt and a gray and purple tie. All he needed was a fedora to complete the look.

“Hello, I’m Gemma Stone,” she said.

He was on his feet immediately, a friendly smile spreading across his lean, tanned face. He had almost perfect teeth and pale blue eyes. 

“Sorry to bother you so late, ma’am. I’m Detective Darren Gilmore with the Harrisonburg PD,” he held out his hand.

Gemma shook it and forced her own smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“I came to ask you a few questions about today,” he added.

Gemma nodded. She hadn’t been expecting him until the next day and, in reality, hoped this could happen at the police station instead of right in her home. Perhaps he was just eager to get the case solved and get back to his own jurisdiction. Either way, she wanted to answer his questions and get him out of her house as soon as possible.

“Please have a seat.”

He returned to his spot on the sofa and she took the chair opposite. Gemma expected him to pull out his little notebook but he simply relaxed and studied her a moment, his air of authority bordering on arrogance, before he began talking.

“So you had an appointment with the victim this afternoon,” he prompted.

“Yes. My best friend, Holly Blake, and I were supposed to meet Katie so she could show us the house. Holly and her fiancé are looking to buy soon.”

“Why wasn’t he with her?” he asked.

“He was in court, I believe,” Gemma explained. “He wanted us to look at some houses, narrow the list down and then they would go look at them again together.”

The detective seemed to think about this for a moment. “Go on” he said.

“We got there a little bit early, I think,” Gemma said, trying not to look at that purple shirt. “The door was partially open. We went inside and called out to her. She didn’t answer so we just started looking around.”

“How did you know she was even there?”

“Her car was in the driveway,” Gemma told him, swallowing hard as she remembered seeing the red Mercedes glittering in the sunlight.

He motioned for her to continue.

Gemma liked this guy less and less by the minute. “We called out to her and she didn’t answer so we just went in and started looking around. We figured she’d hear us and come downstairs.”

“How did you know she was upstairs?”

“We didn’t know where she was,” Gemma said, sounding more impatient than she meant.

“Okay.”

“So we looked around downstairs and then went upstairs. And, yes, we touched doorknobs and furniture and railings,” Gemma added.

“That house has been on the market for a month and she showed it regularly, so fingerprints are going to take a while,” he said.

Sitting quietly, he waited for her to continue. Gemma assumed these silences were designed to make her nervous. It was working.

“Upstairs we looked around a bit and then went into the master bedroom. That’s when Holly found her in the closet.”

“There was no real sign of a struggle, but the bed was rumpled. It looked as though someone had been lying on it,” he said quietly.

Gemma cleared her throat. It looked like a whole lot more than that had happened on that bed but Gemma wasn’t about to tell him that. “I was lying on the bed.”

He raised one dark eyebrow.

“The bed was really huge and I was on it teasing Holly about...”

“About?”

Gemma took a deep breath. The room was suddenly much too hot and her face felt like it was on fire. “About making babies.”

No response but he continued to sit quietly and watch her.

“And that’s all I know,” Gemma said. To make sure he got the hint, she stood up.

“I understand she was dating Detective Ferguson,” he said, remaining seated.

“Perhaps. I don’t know much about Ross...Detective Ferguson’s private life.”

“Didn’t he date you for a while?”

“Something like that,” Gemma said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“I’ll bet you were upset when he started seeing her,” he continued.

“Not really,” Gemma lied, not liking the direction this was going at all. “Now, sir, it is late and it’s been a trying day...”

“You’re right,” he said, finally standing. “I just wanted to talk to you while the events were fresh in your mind. Your friend Holly flatly refused to talk to me.”

Gemma nodded. That was Holly, all right. She should have done the same thing.

“That should do it for now, anyway.” He moved toward the door and Gemma followed, eager to get him out of her house. “Just lock your doors and be safe. Ms. Mack was definitely murdered - strangled, we believe. That’s up close and personal and probably by someone close to her. I would hate to see the same thing happen to you.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Detective?” Gemma asked.

“You were both involved with Ross Ferguson. Think about it.”

D
etective Gilmore disappeared into the darkness before Gemma could respond. She stomped back into the house, slammed the door and locked it. Ross would never...

“Are you okay, dear?”

Gemma nearly jumped out of her skin when she came face to face with her Aunt Maisy.

“I’m sorry, I startled you again, didn’t I?” she asked, looking as if her heart would break.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to anyone else being in the house,” Gemma said and for the first time reached out to hug her aunt. She smelled like lavender and in spite of her small frame, she hugged Gemma back fiercely.

“Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a long, long day,” Gemma said, turning off lights as she headed for the stairs. “If you need me during the night just yell.”

“I’ll be fine,” Aunt Maisy said as she turned toward the guest room. “Sleep well, my dear.”

The next morning Gemma awoke to the wonderful aroma of coffee brewing and bacon frying. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming, but then she opened her eyes to windows filled with gray dawn.

Aunt Maisy. Her mother’s only sister, probably the only family she had left in the world, had walked into her life the day before.

Gemma turned over, buried herself deeper under the covers and tried to go back to sleep but the delicious smells coming from the kitchen lured her out of bed. She snatched her robe off of the chair at the foot of her bed and padded downstairs to find her Aunt Maisy in the kitchen.

Already dressed for the day in a long, flowing, deep blue dress pretty much like the one she had worn the day before, her aunt moved around the kitchen with ease. She had some sort of amulet around her neck and she wore what looked like black ballet slippers. The hat was gone, though, so Gemma decided it wasn’t important to bring that subject up just yet.

Aunt Maisy’s face lit up with a smile when she saw Gemma in the doorway. “Good morning, Sunshine. I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am now,” Gemma said, taking the steaming mug her aunt offered. Her mom had always called her Sunshine in the mornings.

The coffee was brewed just right. Gemma closed her eyes and let the caffeine light up her veins.

“I was waiting until you got up, because I wasn’t sure how you liked your eggs,” Aunt Maisy said.

“Scrambled is fine,” Gemma told her, sliding into a chair at the big wooden table that dominated the kitchen.

Her father had built this table and she’d eaten meals here all her life. It was a little scarred and scratched up here and there from homework and crafts and who knew what else. But Gemma loved it. It seemed awfully big some days and she was glad to see Aunt Maisy’s plate across from hers. Again, Gemma decided it felt good to have family in the house again.

“So, that man that was here last night was a police officer?” Aunt Maisy asked, placing plates full of scrambled eggs and buttered toast on the table between them.

“Yes. Yesterday Holly and I went to look at a house. We found the realtor’s body hanging in the closet,” Gemma reluctantly told her. “He was just here to ask me some questions.”

“Oh, how dreadful,” Maisy said, blue eyes widening. “Suicide?”

“No, they think it was murder. There were some bruises,” Gemma didn’t want to frighten her aunt, but there was no reason to lie. “After they do the autopsy this morning, they’ll know more.”

“So sad to lose a friend like that,” Aunt Maisy said.

“We went to school together but we weren’t exactly friends,” Gemma told her aunt.  “Oh, she was pretty and popular, you know the type, head cheerleader, home coming queen.  But she was as mean as a rattlesnake when she wanted to be.”

Maisy nodded.

“Anyway, Katie went into real estate and became really successful really fast. She dominated the residential market here in town and surrounding areas. She was known for her ruthless, sometimes outrageous negotiating tactics,” Gemma said. “That was why Mitch insisted that we use her.”  

“But you didn’t want to?”