In the Worst Way (Mercy Watts Mysteries Book 5) (42 page)

I snapped my fingers and Pick leapt off the bed. “Right back at you. And what about the rest of those backgrounds.”

“Go have some brunch and we’ll talk,” he said, showing me his onion again.

“I ate like 3000 calories this morning,” I said.
 

“And that was good for the newspaper.”
 

“That sucks. I’ll do it myself.”
 

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”
 

“See ya. I’ve got people to see, crimes to solve.” With that, I flounced out with my super fluffy poodle and ran smack into John, who was standing on the landing.
 

I jumped back. Pick growled, crouching low and baring his teeth.
 

“Are you following me?” I asked, backing up and dragging Pick with me.
 

John ignored Pick and said, “Yes.”
 

“Yes? What the hell? Who are you? I can find out, you know. I do have connections.”
 

“Not the kind you’d need. Your father expects you to be returned to him safe, and there’s a murderer on the loose.”
 

“So you’re watching me like a three-year-old.”
 

“Like a prize possession, which I’m told you are…to some.”
 

“Who told you that? Not my dad. He usually says I’m a prize idiot.”
 

John didn’t answer. “Call the doctor. She says you’re not answering your phone.”
 

Anything to avoid the blank stare. I had missed a bunch of calls. I’d turned off the phone when I went into Uncle Morty’s room. He hated interruptions.
 

I turned away and texted Dr. Watts. She told me that she was done with the autopsy and I said I had an idea. Could she come out to the castle with some fancy equipment? She agreed and didn’t question my idea. I had the feeling she was ready for anything.
 

“What have you found out?” John asked.

“Nothing. Information is a two-way street.” I went around him and headed for the stairs.
 

“Not in my experience,” he called after me.
 

I jogged up the stairs. Pick ran beside me, making a low throaty noise.
 

“Miss Watts?”
 

I stopped. “What?”
 

“Leslie would like to see you.”
 

“Oh really. What for?”
 

“I wouldn’t hazard a guess.”
 

Pick and I turned around though I almost put the dog in my room but thought better of it after I saw the way John was looking at him. If that man could get rid of a human, he could certainly get rid of a dog.
 

We followed John to the armory, one of three from what I gathered. Leslie was waiting in the center of the room, which was more like a hall. The second we entered, Pick began growling and my stomach went into a knot. It didn’t help that the walls were covered with decorative displays of swords and knives arranged in circular patterns. Leslie bent over a display case with a open glass top and for a moment there was a second shadow, belonging to no one, on the knives inside. I sucked in a breath and it was gone.
 

“Miss Watts,” he said, charming as always. “How are you doing?”
 

“I think I saw something,” I squeaked out.

John took my arm and squeezed my bicep. “It’s better if you didn’t.”
 

“But…”
 

“But,” said Leslie, “you’ll never be the owner of Cairngorms Castle, right?”
 

“Right,” I said with plenty of hesitation.
 

John squeezed again. “So you saw nothing because there’s nothing for
you
to see.”

“I say again, Miss Watts,” said Leslie. “How are you doing?”
 

I peeled John’s hard fingers off my arm. “I’ve been better. You wanted to see me.”
 

“John and I would like an real update on your progress.” He looked down into the case.
 

“In here?” I asked.
 

“It’s as good a place as any.”
 

As good a place as any? Right.
 

“I would’ve thought your office would be more appropriate.”
 

John came around the other side of the table and opened that side’s top. “It’s my favorite room.”
 

“I believe it.” I was surrounded by weapons. John and Leslie were two of them unless I was very wrong about them. “I’m not prepared to tell you anything at this point.”

“We’re the clients,” John said.
 

“I’m doing you a favor.”
 

“And we’re doing your father one by keeping you hidden and alive,” said Leslie.
 

“I’ll tell you whatever I know if you start telling me what I want to know.”
 

John pulled out a slim piece of metal from the case. “This is my favorite piece, a Brown Bess bayonet used by the Black Watch.”
 

“Fascinating,” I said. “Are you going to answer my questions or not?”
 

John cocked his head at me and smiled. I was so startled my mouth fell open. The smile was natural but rusty.
 

“Now you’re just trying to freak me out. Don’t bother. I’ve been freaked out since I got here. It’s not going to change anything,” I said.
 

The smile dropped off his face like it had never been there and that was way more creepy. He reminded me of a mannequin.
 

“Don’t mind him,” said Leslie. “He has an enthusiasm for the Napoleonic Wars.”
 

“Among other things,” I said.
 

“What would you like to know?”
 

I went over, tightening my grip on Pick’s leash, and took the bayonet out of John’s hand. “Who paid for the Lions to come here?”
 

“You’re very comfortable with weaponry,” said John.
 

“I’m Tommy Watts’s daughter. It was required. Now about the Lions?”
 

Leslie shrugged. “Our guest’s finances aren’t our concern.”
 

We went around and around for ten minutes, but they weren’t going to say a thing.
 

I placed the bayonet back in the case. There were three rows of the nasty things lined up and tagged with their particulars and provenance. There was a whole lot of death in that case and standing beside me in the form of John.

I closed the case rather forcefully. “Do you want me to solve this or not?”

“Of course. But, if you don’t, we’ll make other arrangements,” said Leslie.
 

That sounds ominous.
 

“Good luck with that. If
I
don’t solve it, you’re going to be getting lots of attention. Springfield will be crawling all over this place. Right now, nobody knows I’m here. The minute the real cops arrive, my presence is no longer a secret and you aren’t either.”
 

“Are you threatening us?” asked Leslie with a smile. Clearly, it wasn’t his first time.
 

“Hello. I’m here. There’s been a murder. You think the press isn’t going to notice?”
 

“I see your point.” Leslie tapped his strong chin and glanced at John.
 

“She is Tommy’s daughter,” said John.
 

Leslie nodded. “Cherie didn’t pay. We comped it.”
 

“Why would you do that?” I asked.
 

“The team is talented. Taylor is talented. He shouldn’t lose the scholarship because of where he’s from.”
 

“That’s very generous,” I said.
 

And a lie.
 

“If you won’t tell me the real reason you comped this very expensive weekend, then maybe you’ll tell me something else.”
 

“What’s that?” asked John.
 

“Are you missing any gloves?”
 

For the first time, they looked surprised.
 

“Not that I know of,” said Leslie. “Should we be?”
 

I told them about the gloves in the fire pit, but it somehow slipped my mind to mention Pick’s part in it. The poodle lay at my feet, making throaty growling noises. Despite the threat that Leslie and John so obviously posed to me and pretty much everybody else, I felt calm with a fierce poodle beside me. If nothing else, Pick could do some damage before John shanked him.
 

Leslie called the staff, asking about the gloves and I turned to John.

“Did the other teams know the Lions would be here? I had the impression they didn’t.”
 

“We don’t let the teams choose their companions. They pick their week and that’s it.”
 

“But Cherie knew who would be here.”
 

John merely stared at me. That line of inquiry was over.
 

Leslie slipped his phone into his vest pocket. “Our head gardener reports that a pair of mechanic’s gloves are missing.”
 

“From where?” I asked.
 

“His workroom in the Crystal Tower.”
 

“Where’s that?”

“It’s the tower next to your original tower,” said Leslie.
 

“Overlooking the rock garden?”
 

“Naturally. It’s the one with the arched stained glass windows.”
 

My chest got tight. “Everyone had access to the workroom?”
 

Leslie nodded. “The door wasn’t locked and it’s next to the exit to the rock garden.”
 

“Alright. I’m going to call Phelong and have them come out to dust,” I said.
 

“Of course.”
 

“I want to know exactly how Cherie ended up with these particular teams.”
 

John and Leslie remained silent. Something in the way they gazed at me said I wouldn’t get another thing out of them and they sure weren’t getting anything out of me.

“I see,” I said.

I didn’t really see. There was something about those teams. Something about them being at the castle together. That wasn’t an accident. They could’ve told me more. One thing was clear. Leslie and John wanted the Lions there enough to pay for it. Why? Because they knew Cherie would get killed? No, Leslie was upset. He didn’t expect it. I was sure of that. John, on the other hand, was blank. He didn’t care one way or the other.
 

The other teams cared about Cherie being there and about her death, at least as how it related to them. They cared a lot. No. That wasn’t right. Not at first anyway. It was only the Vipers who cared at that first dinner. Robin and the Grizzlies showed surprise and discomfort. But the Vipers? That was something else.

I found the Troublesome Trio in the library, collating data and working on the map.
 

“There you are,” said Sorcha. “Do you have some new clues?”
 

“I do. Can I use your laptop?” I asked.
 

“Of course.”
 

“Do we get to know what you’re going to do with it?” asked Jilly, twirling a colored pencil between her fingers.
 

“Sure. I want to do a background on Cherie,” I said, taking Sorcha’s laptop to a cushy green leather sofa.
 

“Didn’t Morty do that?” asked Bridget.
 

“No. He said he would and then he didn’t. He wants me to eat more for it.” I opened the laptop and went to a background investigation site I’d seen Dad use.
 

“Eating wouldn’t be a bad thing.”