Chapter 10

Ten

T he hallway was now clear, so we bolted down the corridor and into the back room in search of Charles.

He wasn't there.

Because the back room was apparently closed for renovations.

The lights were off, and there was a tarp across the pool table. The chairs and barstools were piled up in the middle under another plastic sheet. The couches along the windows were also covered, and they'd been pulled in several feet from the walls.

The right-hand wall was ripped open, exposing wiring and studs, and a table saw was in the middle of the room, primed and waiting for something else to slice up. There were also paint trays on the table, and a stack of gallon paint cans.

I stopped. "This feels like a horror movie." There was even plastic sheeting over the floor, which felt a little unnecessary considering the amount of beer that floor usually hosted on a good night.

It would be a really handy spot to murder someone, though. Wrap the body up in the tarp, head out the back door, and leave no trace behind.

"The fact that Beckwith is in your truck instead of back here is very telling," Lucy said. "This would be a great place to hide a body, but instead, he's in your truck."

"Hattie's truck has her café name on the side of it," I added, looking around but not quite entering the room. It was so dark that someone could be in a corner and not quite visible. "Anyone would know it was hers."

"I feel so honored to know how specifically I am being targeted. I'm taking it as a compliment." But there was a little less pep in Hattie's voice than usual, because in truth, chasing murderers might have moments of fun, but having one really focus on you? Not as uplifting and liberating as one might think.

We fell silent for a minute, and it was then that I noticed a part of the floor that wasn't covered with a tarp. It looked like a tarp was missing. I pointed to it. "You guys don't think that someone was wrapped up in that tarp and carried out, do you?"

They both studied the spot.

"I think it's suspiciously handy," Lucy finally said.

Dang it. "Right? That's what I thought, too."

"You guys are being melodramatic," Hattie said. "For heaven's sake. Let's stay focused!" She walked over to the wall and flipped the light switch.

We all had to shield our eyes for a moment, but when my eyes adjusted, I saw that Charles was not hiding in a corner with a machete, and the missing tarp had simply slid to the side, and was bunched up against the wall.

"That feels nice," Lucy said, taking a breath. "I like electricity."

"Shine a little light, and everything is better," Hattie said. "Charles is clearly not back here. Let's check the men's room. Or maybe he's back in the front of the tavern again. Let's head back out there."

"Hang on." The askew tarp was bugging me. My mom had taught me to always trust my hunches. The rest of the room was carefully tarped up, except that one spot. I eased across the room, trying not to touch anything, scanning the floor carefully.

I crouched at the bare spot and peered at it. As soon as I knelt down, King Tut squeezed out of my sweatshirt and hopped down. I gave him a pat as he stretched, his tail flicking with happiness.

An empty room with plastic sheeting was cat heaven.

"See anything?" Lucy asked from the doorway.

"No." But I didn't move. Something was definitely off.

Hattie walked over and crouched next to me. "What's that well-trained criminal brain of yours thinking?"

I appreciated the respect. Griselda had done the same with me when I'd been working undercover for him. He always encouraged my hunches, and most of the time, I'd been right. I pointed to the cans of paint. "This place is tarped up because they're repainting. When you repaint, you can't leave spots uncovered, and everywhere else is carefully covered."

"Which means?"

"Something happened in here since the last time they painted, which was probably this afternoon, since you can still smell the paint." I studied the floor.

Lucy came over and knelt on my other side. "What? Did Beckwith get killed here?"

"I don't know." I tried to work it out. "The tarp is pretty lightweight," I said. "It could have been blown aside by a gust of wind."

"Indoors?" Lucy asked.

Hattie pointed. "There's a door to the back deck." She jumped up and tried the door. It was unlocked, and when she opened it, I felt a light breeze. Not enough to move a tarp, but a gust could have come in.

"What's out there?" I asked.

"A deck. It's separate from the side deck that Devlin is on. You can't see one from the other," Hattie said. She stepped outside. "No one's out here."

At that moment, the tarp rippled and moved a little as a breeze caught it and pushed it further back, in the same direction it had already slid. "Definitely the wind, then." Which meant the door had been opened.

As I stood up to go outside, I suddenly noticed that the bar stools to my left had been knocked over, as if someone had fallen into them. The window right above the chairs was cracked. A fight? If Beckwith and Charles had gotten into a fight, Charles would definitely have won.

My heart started to race, and I hurried to the back door and out onto the deck, King Tut trotting after me. The table closest to the door was on its side, and a chair was upside down. A white plate was on the deck, and raspberry pie was splattered everywhere across the floor.

"Oh, boy," Hattie said.

"It's the murder site!" Lucy ran up behind me. "This is where it happened. You think Charles killed Beckwith and then took him to your truck?"

"Looks like it." Hattie held up her hands. "No one touch anything. This is where I get exonerated. A fight between brothers went south. My DNA is nowhere out here."

"If someone wanted to set you up, why would they leave the murder scene like this?" I looked around, and then I saw a trash bag and a roll of paper towels on the deck. I pointed. "The killer came back to clean it up."

"That's why we saw Charles come back in," Lucy said.

"Except that we saw him come in long after the murder happened," I said. "He wouldn't have waited that long." King Tut hopped up on the railing and peered over the edge. His tail flicked, and I saw him tense. To jump off?

"Unless he couldn't get back before now," Hattie said.

"So what delayed him?" Lucy asked.

"And why didn't he finish cleaning up?" I walked over to the railing, but as I reached for King Tut, I peered over the edge to see what he was looking at. My gut sank when I saw a familiar Barnes brother sprawled on the rocks below, in a very unnatural position. "Guys?"

Hattie and Lucy hurried over and leaned over the railing. "Oh, man," Lucy said.

Hattie swore under her breath. "Son of a biscuit!" She took off toward the side of the deck, and I realized there were steps heading down to the ground.

Lucy and I looked at each other, then sprinted after her. King Tut leaped off the railing and tore after Hattie, delighted we were finally getting some action. "Hattie! Don't touch anything!"

"That drop isn't more than ten feet!" She shouted. "He's too mean to die from such a short fall! He has answers, though! Charles!"

I scrambled down the stairs as Hattie reached the prone man. She grabbed his shoulder. "Charles! Can you hear me—" She suddenly jerked her hand back as if she'd been shocked.

Lucy and I ran up, but then stopped when Hattie held up her hand. "No! Back up!"

We both stopped, and Hattie turned and walked back toward us, her face taut.

"What's wrong?" Lucy asked. "I mean, besides Charles being hurled over the railing, apparently. Is he dead?"

Hattie walked toward us. "There is a corkscrew in his neck."

My jaw dropped, and Lucy grimaced.

"It's my corkscrew," Hattie said. "It was a prize from a baking competition I won many years ago. It's engraved with my name."

Lucy touched her arm. "Oh, Hattie."

Now I was mad. Really mad. No one put my friends in prison, especially a murderer who was running around killing people. Suddenly, I was done trying to pretend I wasn't an ex-criminal. I was over trying to be a nice, upstanding citizen so I wouldn't get any more graffiti on my docks. My mind shifted into full-focus, criminal-mindset mode. "Where were you keeping it?"

"In my kitchen in the café. By the back door."

I thought of the third member of the Diamond Baking Company. "Was it hanging there when Emmeline was working for you?"

Hattie looked at me. "Yes."

I looked over at Charles. "We have to tell Devlin."

Hattie grimaced. "My fingerprints are now on Charles' jacket, and my corkscrew is in his neck. It's just getting worse for me."

I agreed with her. I hated to give up now, especially since the evidence was mounting against Hattie. It was worse than when we'd started, but I knew when we'd crossed lines. "Charles had to have been killed in the last ten minutes. We can't sit on this."

I pulled out my phone to call Devlin, but just as I pulled up his number, I saw King Tut freeze, staring toward the water. His tail was stiff, and his head was up.

I quickly turned and scanned the lake, looking for whatever it was he saw. It took a moment, but then I saw movement in the shadows by the shore. "Is that an animal?" I picked up King Tut so he didn't take off after a bobcat and discover he wasn't as tough as he thought.

Hattie and Lucy watched the shore with me, and the figure moved out of the shadows into the moonlight.

"It's a woman," we all said at the same time.