Peril in Paperback (14 page)

“Thank you, Brooklyn. I just worry.”

“I know you do, but you shouldn’t. We appreciate all that you do for us.”

She still seemed to need reassurance so I stuck my tongue in my cheek and added, “In fact, I was wondering if there was any possible chance you’d consider coming to live at my house and doing this for me. I could use a running supply of snacks in my workshop.”

“Oh, Brooklyn,” she said, lightly swatting my shoulder as her chirpy laugh fluttered through the room. “You’re so funny.”

“I’ll double your salary.”

“Oh, stop.”

I shrugged. “I’m just asking you to think about it.”

She giggled and the hand-wringing ended. Seconds later, she was back to bustling about, making people happy.

The police interview process was long and slow and took most of the morning. It was a good thing there were plenty of books and games to keep us all occupied.

When it was my turn, I followed Detective Pentley into the small, blue-accented sitting room and sat on the
least comfortable chair I could find. I wanted to appear serious, not overly relaxed, and a straight-back chair would help.

“Brooklyn Wainwright,” he murmured as he wrote my name in a small spiral notebook. Then he looked up. “Tell me what you saw last night.”

I pulled out my phone and clicked on the gallery of photos I’d taken the night before. He followed the pictures as I told him everything that had occurred. We went back and forth as I described the séance, before, during, and after. I told him how Ruth had handed Grace the glass of iced tea just as the séance was about to start. I told him that at least four people at the table had drinks, maybe more.

“So Bella had her own drink?”

“Yes.”

“And Marko put both of their drinks on the floor by his chair.”

“Yes.”

“So why would Bella reach for the glass by Grace’s chair?”

I thought about it. I’d seen Bella putting away the booze for two nights straight, so it was easy enough to surmise that she hadn’t been thinking clearly when she reached for her cocktail.

I mentioned that to Detective Pentley, who wrote everything down in minute detail.

I told him that Vinnie, Suzie, and I were the ones who had wrapped Bella in the sheet and he asked me why we’d decided to do that. I confessed that I’d been involved in a few crime scenes and I’d learned how important it was to preserve as much evidence as possible, including anything that might turn up on the body itself.

I gave him the names and phone numbers of detective inspectors Janice Lee and Nathan Jaglom, the San Francisco detectives I’d worked with on numerous occasions. He seemed impressed by my answers. I hoped he was,
because I truly lived to impress the police with my knowledge of crime-scene procedure.

Then Pentley asked me how well I knew Gabriel.

“Very well.”

“Are you lovers?”

“No.”

“Why not? He’s a good-looking guy.”

“He’s gorgeous,” I said agreeably. “But he’s not mine. I’ve got one of my own, thanks.”

“And where is he?” Pentley asked as his eyes narrowed in on me. Was he trying to penetrate my soul? It bugged me, for some reason.

“Is that any of your business?”

“Depends.”

“Right,” I said. “Look, Gabriel is a good friend of mine. And it’s a fact that he didn’t even arrive until after Bella was dead.”

Pentley scowled, knowing that was the bottom line.

I went on to vouch for Gabriel’s integrity, compliment his supervision of the postmortem activities, and gush about his overall honesty. (That might have been a stretch, given the book-theft incident.)

I suggested that Pentley contact Derek Stone, former British naval commander and MI6 agent, if he wanted another, better reference for Gabriel’s excellent and extensive experience in dealing with criminal behavior (on the good guys’ side).

I didn’t mention that Derek was my boyfriend, deciding that that was something else that was none of his business.

“I don’t know what we would have done if Gabriel hadn’t shown up when he did last night.”

Pentley gave me a look so sharp, it made me wonder if I shouldn’t be thinking about lining up my own good references. But he finally finished his questioning and told me I was free to leave the room.

After two hours of interviews, the police spent another
hour taking their own photographs and collecting as much evidence as they could find in the Red Room. As Pentley and Graves packed up their gear, Gabriel handed Pentley the plastic bags containing the cyanide-coated broken glass, the liquid from Bella’s cocktail glass, and the cocktail glass itself.

“What the hell?” Pentley said, and shoved the bags into Graves’s hands. Seniority had its benefits, apparently.

At the front door, Pentley issued one last warning: we were not allowed to enter the séance room or leave Grace’s property until the police returned to clear them.

“It might be a few days,” Graves added.

“We’ll be in touch,” Pentley said. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

As they walked out, I looked around the room at the numb faces of the guests. The cops’ warning had served to remind me—as if I needed reminding—that one of my fellow guests had been murdered last night. And, in turn, that meant that one of the people in this room was a murderer.

Cozy thought.

I scanned their faces again. I barely knew most of Grace’s guests, so my sympathy fell on Grace and the people who had known Bella best. I could truly imagine the heartache and fear and guilt Grace was dealing with right now, after having a good friend die in her home. I had dealt with similar feelings of guilt before.

Absently, I checked my watch. It was a few minutes past noon. The police had been here for more than four hours.

“Well, that was unpleasant,” Grace said soberly, standing up to address her friends and relatives. “I can apologize from now until kingdom come, but I’ll never be able to make it up to all of you. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to pack up and leave, but it seems you’re all stuck here with me.”

“None of this was your fault, Aunt Grace,” Suzie said in protest. “We’re all happy to stay and celebrate your birthday week.”

“That’s right,” Kiki said.

I raised my hand. “I’m having a marvelous time.”

“I wouldn’t leave even if I could,” Harrison said stoutly.

I caught Madge rolling her eyes in disgust.

There were other positive comments, though I didn’t hear any from Sybil Brinker or Madge, of course. But, then, I didn’t really care if they were happy or not.

“Thank you, my loyal darlings.” Grace smiled bravely. “On the bright side, I can promise you great food and plenty of it all week long. We must keep up our strength, after all. So for anyone who’s interested, Merrilee has set out a delectable buffet lunch in the informal dining room on the first floor, whenever you’re ready to dine.”

I was more than ready. I was half in love with Chef Tang already, based on the first night’s meal. But then last night, when I dashed into the kitchen to return Gabriel’s and my wineglasses, I’d had a chance to meet him. Chef Tang had generously shared his polenta and sausage recipe with me. I told him about my sister, Savannah, the chef and owner of Arugula, her new restaurant in Dharma, my hometown in the Sonoma wine country. Tang assured me that he would make it up to Dharma sometime soon to dine with Savannah. The chef and I were now the very best of friends.

“Come on, Auntie,” Suzie said. “I’ll walk with you to lunch.” She threaded her arm through Grace’s and strolled out of the room, followed by the others. I found Vinnie and we linked arms, too, and joined the crowd going downstairs to the dining room.

It was a quiet, reflective group today. Not that we all didn’t have a lot to talk about. It just didn’t feel like the right time yet. Everyone was still rattled by Bella’s death and the past four hours of grilling by the police.

The kitchen staff must have caught our pensive vibe, because they had outdone themselves trying to cheer us up.

Besides the main table overflowing with sandwich makings and breads and yummy salads of all kinds, two staff members stood at the ready to make omelets and dessert crepes for any who wanted them. There were at least twenty-five ingredients to choose from, all chopped, grated, and ready to go.

I decided on a Mexican omelet with onions, peppers, chorizo, avocado, sour cream, and salsa. And in case I was still hungry, I asked for a strawberry-and-banana-cream dessert crepe with hot fudge drizzled on top.

That would teach me to ever skip a meal again.

“I think we all need a treat to wash away the doldrums,” Grace announced. “Tonight, after dinner, let’s put on a show. This is a talented group, so I insist that you all perform something. Whatever you’re good at. Or not. Pick something fun. Something entertaining. Make us laugh. We all need a good laugh.”

“That’s for sure,” Harrison said.

“I’m not good at anything,” Suzie muttered, then grinned at Vinnie. “Too bad we didn’t bring our chainsaws.”

“Ruth will read her poetry,” Grace continued, “and I’ll read a scene from my manuscript.”

Merrilee clapped. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Oh, please,” Madge snarled under her breath.

I ignored the woman’s mutterings and searched my mind for something I was good at, something that would provide some entertainment. I’d tried to learn piano when I was in grade school, but it had been disastrous. I liked to sing, but I wasn’t very good. That didn’t keep me from belting out show tunes when nobody was around to suffer through my caterwauling.

It was too bad I hadn’t thought to bring along my mother’s sacred-chanting love drum. I’d practiced on
that thing and knew I could get a real groove going. But maybe Grace had something I could borrow. How much talent did it take to pound on a drum? I mean, besides the ability to keep time and the whole rhythm thing. I could do that.

“Oh, Vinnie, you must dance!” Grace said, her excitement rising. “Bollywood! Don’t think you’re getting away without performing tonight.”

“Vishnu wept,” Vinnie muttered.

I looked at Suzie. “Vinnie dances?”

“Like a freaking New Delhi Rockette,” Suzie said, beaming with pride.

“Vinnie, I’m learning so much about you this week.”

She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Brooklyn, I’ll thank you to forget everything you’ve heard or seen by the time we get home.”

I laughed. “Fine, but I still want to see you dance tonight.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll dance,” she grumbled, and gave Grace a narrow look.

As the afternoon wore on, people began to get energized by the notion of performing in a talent show. Some of the guests traipsed up to the attic after Grace mentioned that there was a trunk filled with fancy outfits and costumes from a costume ball the company had thrown years ago. There were also plenty of outlandish props Grace had come across during her years as the queen of games.

I could hear musical instruments being played in the music room, mostly badly, but it was obvious that Grace didn’t care about quality tonight. I knew that Vinnie had gone to her room to practice the dance she intended to perform. Had Suzie gone with her?

I hadn’t seen Gabriel in a few hours, either, so I figured our inspection of the conservatory had been postponed. The snow was falling more thickly now, so I doubted he’d gone outside. Maybe he was in hiding, rehearsing
the hula for the big talent show. But probably not. Gabriel wasn’t big on public displays of, well, anything.

I missed my friends, but I had plenty to do on my own. I took off for the library to spend an hour or two fixing books. I was hoping Nathan would be there to keep me company, but the room was empty. Was he rehearsing for the talent show, too?

I sat at my desk and stared out the window at the gray sky. Snow continued to fall, and even though I was perfectly comfortable inside the house I shivered as I watched it coming down.

A sudden warm presence wrapped itself around my ankles. “Hello, Leroy.”

He purred loudly as he searched for the perfect position, finally curling up on top of my shoes. I was pitifully grateful for his company as well as for the radiant heat he was providing to my feet.

I’d come across four more loose-hinged books to repair, so I unwrapped my travel tool kit and popped open my little bottle of PVC glue. A bamboo skewer coated in PVC was my secret weapon when it came to loose hinges. I slid the thin stick in the gap between the boards and the endpapers, then twirled it until the glue was nicely distributed on both sides, while avoiding the spine.

It was a neat trick, one I enjoyed teaching librarians who were always dealing with books being damaged as they were checked in and out of the library.

Grace didn’t have a book press, so I looked around for something else to use. I pushed my chair away from my desk and disturbed Leroy, who let out an aggrieved growl.

“Sorry, kitty,” I said. “I know I’m a deep disappointment to you.” I bent down to pet him and scratch behind his ears, silently begging his forgiveness. He must have granted me absolution because he purred and rubbed his head against my hand.

I stood and watched him slink off to find another comfy spot for his nap. Then I searched the room and found the perfect substitute for a book press. Each of the end tables next to the corner chairs had a heavy glass top. I could slip the books between the glass and the wood surface of the tables.

I arranged the two thickest books together on one table and set the weighty glass down on top of them. Then I did the same for the thinner books on the other table. Ten minutes later, they were all dried and fully repaired, so I returned them to their places on the bookshelves.

One job was done, so I faced another. The damaged
Pilgrim’s Progress
sat on the corner of the center table. I’d been meaning to ask Grace if she would consider allowing the book to be showed at the Covington Library, but as with everything else I’d wanted to do today, there had been too many distractions.

I made a quick list of the other books I wanted to ask Grace about showing to Ian at the Covington. Then, grabbing the
Pilgrim’s Progress
, I headed upstairs to find Grace. I would try her room first, and if she wasn’t there I would hunt down Merrilee to ask where I could find her.