Prose and Cons Page 13

  Outside the sitting room door, which I’d left open, I saw the beam of a flashlight run across the floor. I couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t much in the sitting room besides the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the two large sofas.

  The beam of light turned into the sitting room, and I ducked behind the far sofa, which was perpendicular to the door. From behind the couch, I heard the approach of heavy footsteps. I didn’t dare take a peek to see who it was, for fear I would be spotted.

  The footsteps moved with purpose to the wall of bookcases. I sensed more than saw that the flashlight’s beam was trained on the bookshelves, which were across the room from where I hid behind the sofa. Hoping that I was right, I dared to peek around the corner of the sofa. I saw the form of an average-sized man standing in front of the bookshelves.

  He ran his flashlight along the shelves at eye level. He stepped up to a bookcase and slipped his hand behind it. Nothing happened. He moved to the next bookcase and did the same. And then to the next and the next until he came to the bookcase I’d closed just moments ago. He hit the latch and the bookcase clicked open. “There you are, Evanna.”

  As much as I wanted to see what the man was going to do in Anastasia’s secret office, I knew this was my chance for escape. With Emerson tucked close to my chest in one arm, I crawled behind the long couch. I could hear the man in the secret office moving things around. He didn’t seem to make any effort to be quiet about it.

  At the end of the couch, I stood and in my haste bumped the end of the couch with my hip. The impact made the slightest thud, but in the stillness of the old stone house it sounded like a gunshot.

  “Is someone there?” the man called. “Who’s there?”

  The flashlight beam ran over my back. I jumped to my feet and fled down the long hallway to the curved staircase. I made no effort to be quiet now. I had to get out of the house. I hit the main floor and heard the sound of rapid footsteps coming down the stairs behind me. I spared half a second to catch a glimpse of the man’s face. It was narrow and a scruffy goatee worn hipster-style darkened the lower half of his face, and dark-rimmed glasses dominated the upper half.

  “Stop!” the man called.

  His shout was just what I needed to spur me into motion again. I dashed back down the long dark hallway toward the mudroom and the kitchen.

  “Stop!” he cried a second time.

  Like that was going to happen. Outside, I dropped Emerson in my bicycle basket, jumped onto my bike, and flew down the driveway. I made the mistake of looking back just as I passed the lamppost at the end of Anastasia’s driveway. The man stood in the middle of the drive. He held a piece of paper in his hand. I knew it was the e-mail I’d snapped a picture of. I saw him, but he saw me too. He knew what I looked like, but the reverse was true too.

  I didn’t stop pedaling until I made it all the way to the Riverwalk. I was so afraid the man with glasses and beard would follow me that I rode at top speed. Emerson hunkered down in the bicycle basket in front of me as the cold October wind whipped through his fur.

  When I reached the Riverwalk and saw the festivities were still in full swing despite that late hour, I let out a sigh of relief. Emerson appeared to relax as well and dared to lift his black-and-white head over the edge of the basket.

  I slowed my pedaling as I made my way down River Road along the Riverwalk. The presence of so many people made me feel safe. The full moon reflected off the surface of the Niagara River. The river curved in and around the Niagara’s boulders, which were outlined by silver threads coming straight from the orb in the night’s sky.

  I slowed my bicycle even more as I took care not to hit any woozy pedestrians who took it upon themselves to sample every vintage the twenty-plus wineries at the festival had to offer. Finally, I gave up riding altogether as I came closer to the heart of the festival, and I jumped off my bike in front of La Crepe Jolie. The café was closed for the night, but I knew Lacey and Adrien also had a booth at the festival. I hoped they were still there.

  I leaned my bike against the side of the café and scooped Emerson out of the basket. The cat hung over the back of my shoulder like a baby in need of burping.

  After waiting for a carriage and two slow-moving cars to make their way down River Road, I crossed the street and headed to the cluster of white tents, which made up the bulk of the festival. Twinkle lights hung from the maple trees in the green where the tents stood, which made the trees’ red and orange leaves glow like fiery torches against the night’s sky.

  More white twinkle lights hung from the tents themselves, where the food and wine vendors sold their wares. A much larger wedding-style tent sat on the far side of the green. A string quartet played music while clusters of people sat at round tables with seating for six and listened while they sipped their wines. The scene was so very refined, so very Cascade Springs. It was hard to believe there could be a murder in the village and only a block from this very spot.

  I shook my head, and Emerson purred in my ear. I didn’t have time to take in all the highlights of the festival. With over thirty matching tents, it would take me far too long to find La Crepe Jolie’s tent, so I stopped at the first tent just at the entrance of the festival. “Can you tell me where La Crepe Jolie’s tent is?”

  “Hello, Violet,” a prim voice said in return. “It is nice to see you.” Her tone spoke to the contrary.

  My stomach dropped. I should have read the sign before opening my mouth. Mrs. Nanette Morton, Nathan’s mother, appraised me with perfectly made-up eyes. I could only guess that she’d applied her eye makeup that morning, but it appeared as fresh as if she’d just set down her mascara wand. Perfection went for everything about Nathan’s mother, from her styled short hair to her pristine white coat, without a splash of wine on it, despite Mrs. Morton’s working in the booth all day on the uneven grass.

  EIGHTEEN

  I mentally kicked myself. I should have known better and skipped to the next tent. Of course, Morton Vineyards would have the first tent at the festival’s main entrance. It was the most successful winery in the village, not to mention that the owners’ son and winery heir was the mayor.

  Mrs. Morton was one of the last people I ever wanted to run into in the village. If I had to choose between bumping into Nathan or his mother, I would always choose Nathan, and that was saying a lot, since I threw myself behind bushes in order to avoid my ex-boyfriend.

  I cleared my throat. “Hello, Mrs. Morton. I’m sorry to bother you. I was only looking for Lacey or Adrien Dupont. Do you know where I can find their tent?” I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask my question.

  As if she didn’t hear me, she asked, “Are pets allowed at the festival?”

  Emerson tensed in my arms. He liked Mrs. Morton as much as I did. That was telling.

  “Emerson is,” I said.

  She frowned. “And why would your cat receive special dispensation?”

  “He’s more like a mascot than a cat.”

  Emerson purred in my ear.

  “Can you direct me to the café’s booth?” I asked for the second time. I should find someone else to help me. It would go much faster if I did.

  To my surprise, she handed me a half piece of paper with a map of the festival on it, listing all the tents. I glanced down at it. La Crepe Jolie’s tent was near the big tent. Perfect. I just hoped that Lacey or her husband was still there. “Thank you.” I turned to leave with the paper clutched in my hand.

  “Nathan tells me that the two of you are friendly again,” Mrs. Morton said. Her tone was ice-cold, so much so that it froze me in place.

  “We’re cordial.” I hoped that she would leave it at that.

  “As long as that’s all it is. I think you would agree with me that it would not be a good idea for you to become involved with my son again. He is the mayor of Cascade Springs and needs to find a wife who can fill the role as first lady
of the village. We both know you would never be comfortable in a role like that.”

  I clenched my teeth. I had no desire to be the first lady of Cascade Springs, but at the same time, I didn’t want to be told I wasn’t fit for the job.

  “I had better go find the Duponts,” I said, and walked away before I said something I might regret. I hoped my self-restraint would show Mrs. Morton how much more mature I was. As a teenager, it wasn’t uncommon for me to mouth off to even an adult in Mrs. Morton’s position when I thought I was in the right, which happened a lot, because what teenager doesn’t believe she is in the right all the time? Nothing cured me from talking back to one of my elders as much as teaching college students. Every time I had a student make a sarcastic retort in class, I knew it was a form of cosmic payback from my smart mouth as a kid.

  I made a beeline for the Duponts’ tent. Both Lacey and Adrien were there. Adrien was flipping crepes with a practiced hand. As soon as the crepe was cooked through, he added ham and cheese and quickly folded it together. After just enough time for the cheese to melt, he whipped it off the crepe pan and wrapped it in paper before handing it off to the salivating customer.

  My mouth watered too. Adrien’s crepes were as good as—if not better than—any I’d eaten in Montreal or Paris.

  Lacey handed the waiting customer a plastic cup of hot apple cider to go with the crepe. On the surface, the food combination seemed like an odd pairing, but on the cool October night with a biting breeze coming across the river from Canada, it was the perfect choice. The customer carried his meal over to the tables in the large dining tent.

  Lacey spotted me first. “Violet, what’s wrong? You’re as white as a sheet.”

  “I think I might have seen Anastasia’s killer, and it’s possible that he is coming after me now.” I said all of this in one exhaled breath. Now that I was among friends, I could allow the fear that I had felt while being chased through Anastasia’s house seep out of me.

  Both of their mouths fell open at my announcement. I couldn’t blame them—it was an outrageous statement. The only problem was it might be a true statement. I started shaking and Emerson ever so gently dug his claws into the shoulder of my jacket. It was as if the cat was reminding me to keep it together.

  Adrien thrust a goblet of wine into my hand. “Drink this.”

  Despite growing up in wine country, I wasn’t much of a drinker myself. I’d never acquired a taste for alcohol. If I was given the choice, I would much rather eat my calories in the form of sugary baked goodness like the cookies from La Crepe Jolie than from a glass of wine. With no cookies in sight, this was an emergency situation where any form of fortitude was welcome.

  I took a big gulp from the half-full goblet. It was ice wine, the region’s specialty. Usually, it was a drink that was delicately sipped, not guzzled down. Now I knew why, as the sweet liquid nearly choked me.

  Lacey’s eyes were the size of Adrien’s crepes. “Yikes. You just went for it, didn’t you?” She took Emerson from my arms.

  I coughed and spurted and Adrien pounded on my back. Adrien had enough muscles to crush me like a bug, so his gentle back taps made me stumble forward. He caught me by the arm before I brought down their entire tent.

  “That teenager is clearly drunk. Terrible,” a woman walking by said to her friend. “You would think in a place like Cascade Springs they would have better control over underage drinking.”

  I didn’t know if I should be happy the woman thought I wasn’t old enough to drink or upset she thought I was publicly drunk.

  A customer approached the Duponts’ booth ready to make an order. Lacey nodded to her husband, and he seemed to understand what she meant. He stepped into her place to take the order and speak to the customers.

  Lacey led me to one of the empty tables in the big tent. She was sure to choose a table that was off by itself. I still had my glass of wine in my hand. I set it in the middle of the table. So much for fortitude when I needed it.

  I glanced back to their crepe booth. Late-night customers were beginning to line up as they craved a warm crepe to stave off the cold. “I shouldn’t be taking you away from your booth.”

  She waved away my concern. “Adrien can handle it for a little while alone. He relishes the fast pace. It reminds him of the time he was the head chef at his restaurant in Montreal.”

  “He was a head chef in Montreal?” This was new information. Not that I doubted it. Adrien’s food was some of the best food that I had ever tasted. He certainly had the talent to make it in the cosmopolitan city, but it only made me wonder more how he ended up in the village.

  She nodded. “Enough about Adrien. Tell me what happened. Were you serious when you said you were chased by Anastasia’s killer? I thought her death was an accident.”

  “It’s looking less and less like an accident by the second.” Quickly and as quietly as I could, I related the events that had led me to flee Anastasia’s mansion. However, I held back the discovery that Anastasia was Evanna Blue. I would save that revelation for Chief Rainwater. Was it possible the police had found the secret writing office and he already knew? In that case telling him would only reveal that I was trespassing. I shook away my misgivings. I had to tell Rainwater whether he knew or not. He needed to track down the man in the beard and glasses, the man who might just be Anastasia’s murderer.

  After I finished telling my tale, Lacey’s eyes misted over. “I’m honored that you came to me first when you were so frightened. I know that we weren’t the best of friends in school. You and Colleen were joined at the hip and nobody could break into your impenetrable duo, but you both were so good to me. I missed you both after she died and you left. I’m glad that we can be close again as adults.” She grabbed a napkin off the table and touched it to the corner of her eye.

  In high school, Lacey had been nothing more than a friendly acquaintance in my mind. Sometimes my best friend, Colleen, and I would let her hang around with us at school, but there wasn’t much more to the friendship than that. Now I was ashamed to remember that when I left the village after Colleen’s death, I hadn’t given Lacey another thought until I’d returned to the village and discovered she’d opened La Crepe Jolie with her new husband.

  Her teary reaction took me by surprise. I hadn’t run to Lacey and Adrien’s tent for any other reason than I knew they were close and they would help me. Normally, I would have run back to my grandma Daisy at a time like this to ask for guidance as to what I should do, but with Sadie there in her fragile state, I didn’t want her to overhear anything that might upset her more.

  “Have you told the police any of this?” Lacey asked, seeming to have recovered from her tears.

  Of course, this was the right question to ask. I should have called the police chief the moment I lost the guy who broke into Anastasia’s house. There was just the small detail that I’d broken into the house first that held me back.

  “I really don’t want to be arrested,” I said.

  “Why would you be arrested, Violet?” a deep baritone voice asked directly behind me.

  NINETEEN

  Even if I hadn’t recognized the man’s voice when he spoke, I would have known who it was the instant I saw Lacey’s face. Her eyes went wide again, and her hand covered her mouth.

  I spun around on the white folding chair to find Chief David Rainwater standing behind me. He’d changed out of his Detective Dupin outfit and now wore his police uniform. As chief of police, he wasn’t typically in uniform. I suspected he wore it now because there were so many tourists in town for the Food and Wine Festival.

  Despite the day that I’d had, I couldn’t help but notice how nice the uniform looked on him. A light blush crept across my cheeks. I hoped it was too dark for him to notice, although I feared the surplus of twinkling lights all around the tent gave me away.

  Lacey snapped her mouth closed. “Violet was just telling
me she was chased by a killer. Can you believe that? She’s lucky to be alive, if you ask me. You should find the man who chased her and string him up by his toes.”

  I inwardly groaned. I appreciated her desire to defend me, but that was not the way I would have broken the news to the Cascade Springs chief of police.

  “Come again?” the police chief asked. He narrowed his eyes until they were slits. “She was what?”

  Before I could answer, Lacey launched into my tale. “She and Emerson were chased out of Anastasia’s house!”

  “Violet and Emerson were at Anastasia’s place?” Rainwater’s voice was calm, but I knew that was deceiving. “They were inside Anastasia’s house, you mean?”

  “You didn’t know that.” Lacey paled.

  “No,” Rainwater said. His lips barely moved as he spoke.

  Lacey shot me an apologetic look and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  I gave her a small smile and turned to Rainwater. “I can answer for myself.”

  The chief’s amber-colored eyes bored into mine. “I have plenty of questions for you, Violet. Don’t worry about that.” He turned back to Lacey. “Lacey, I would like to talk to Violet alone if you don’t mind.”

  I gave Lacey a pleading look, silently asking her to stay.

  Lacey hesitated. “I—”

  “Lacey,” he said a little more firmly. “I need to speak to Violet alone, and it appears as if Adrien could use some help.”

  Adrien was in fact backed up at the La Crepe Jolie tent. His line was ten-deep and growing. It seemed everyone at the festival had the same idea that a hot crepe would be just the thing to warm them up on such a cold night. Lacey knit her brow in apology to me. “I’ll be just over there if you need me, Violet. You holler, and I’ll come running.” She hopped out of her folding chair and hurried over to her husband, where she immediately began taking orders.