Death Takes a Holiday (17 page)

The only people he
had never been able to con successful were Grace and his father, but that was only because they knew him so well. That and he didn’t wish to trick either of them. At least not over anything too important, he amended.

So, c
oming into the lounge car, he had been more than confident that Wellington would see only what Kyle wanted him to see. After all, he was still a magician at heart. And right before he walked into the lounge car, he told Steve not to worry. No one could be that good, he had said confidently.

With h
is confidence now flying out the window, Kyle had to admit he wasn’t quite so sure anymore. He watched with trepidation as Wellington steepled his fingers under his chin and stared at Kyle intently. Kyle had the distinct impression he was being sized up at that moment.

Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat.
Wellington doesn’t know, he silently reassured himself. He couldn’t.

“Are you feeling unwell, Kyle?”
Wellington asked with concern.

“What?” Kyle croaked out.
He shouldn’t have listened to Steve, he thought in irritation, sliding into the chair across from the old detective. After all, Wellington was just a man. Granted, a very intelligent man, but a man just the same. He shook his head slightly. His father would have his head if he knew how easily he had allowed himself to be unnerved. “No, I’m fine.” Kyle took a deep breath. “Well, this is probably an obvious question, but I’ve got to ask . . . do you have any idea who killed Robert?”

Wellington
nodded his head.

Surprised, Kyle leaned forward eagerly. “Really?
Who?”

The detective’s head tilted up. His eyes focused on the ceiling. “We all did.”

“We all,” Kyle started to repeat. “Wait, what?”

“Every one of us
is guilty. Me, Robert, Tracy, Lucas, Felicity, Jack . . . Even Victor. Especially Victor. All of us. We should have seen this coming.” He brought his gaze down and looked at Kyle. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.” He nodded knowingly. “If only we paid attention to the clues, we could have avoided this. They were staring at us right in the face, but like Tiresias we saw, but then we did not see.” He smiled at the mystified expression on Kyle’s face. “Well, I’m glad you’re willing to help. I always find it’s easier in these investigations to bounce ideas off one another. We’ll start with the simple questions first. How was Robert Kirby killed?”

Kyle glanced
at Robert’s body. “Well, we’ll need a coroner’s report, of course, but . . . it looks like he was stabbed through the heart with a steak knife,” he said hesitantly, briefly wondering if this was somehow a trick question, but not seeing how.

“Hmm,” he said, leaning his head back. “Were you aware that Julius Caesar was stabbed twentythree times?”

“Do you think Robert was assassinated?” Kyle asked in confusion, trying to follow the detective’s train of thought.

The corner of Wellington’s mouth inched up. “No, of course not.” He looked back down. “
Now we must ask ourselves,
who
had the opportunity to kill Mr. Kirby.”

They
stared pointedly at each other, each waiting for the other to begin. When it occurred to Kyle that Wellington was perfectly willing and capable of sitting there staring at him for the rest of the night, Kyle said, “Pretty much everyone in the lounge car.”

“
You believe one of them was faking unconsciousness.” Wellington steepled his fingers under his chin and looked pensively down at the table. “Let’s think about the drug for a moment. How did it get into our system?” He pointed his steepled fingers toward Kyle. “What is your theory?”

“It had to be the hot chocolate
out of the second container. It’s the one thing everyone who fell unconscious had in common. All except for one—”

“
Good. That’s what I suspected, as well.” Wellington nodded approvingly. “And let me say, I can see why Steve speaks so highly of you.”

“Thank you,” Kyle said wryly.
“I hate to point out the obvious, but if it was the second container of hot chocolate that was tampered with . . . Well, that doesn’t really explain why you were sound asleep long before the container was brought out.”

“No
, it doesn’t.”

Drumming his fingers against the table,
Kyle waited for Wellington to elaborate.

“Are you nervous, Kyle?”

“No.” Kyle stilled his hand. “I was just wondering how well you knew the victim.”

“Not very well,” Wellington
admitted. “Victor and Ellen Kirby had been friends of mine in college, but I don’t really have a relationship with their children.” He looked past Kyle’s shoulder. “Ah, Mr. Mattingly, I see you have our errant chef.”

Kyle turned to see Steve pull a rather reluctant
Oscar Frazier into the lounge car. Sara trailed behind them. She slid into a chair in the corner and pulled out a book.

“This is outrageous
,” Oscar complained. “I demand to be left alone.”

“Mattingly,
” Wellington said, “I’d appreciate it if you could run and find Henry for me. Thank you.”

Steve immediately jumped to attention. He nodded smartly before hurrying out of the room.

Wellington motioned to the empty chair on the other side of the aisle. “Have a seat Mr. Frazier. Thank you for joining us. Do you mind if I call you Oscar?”

“I don’t care what you call me
,” Oscar said petulantly. “I want to go back to my room.”

Wellington
ignored him. “Of course, but I believe Mr. Drake has a few questions for you first.”

Surprised, Kyle glanced from
Wellington to Oscar and back again. Wellington gave him an encouraging look. Clearing his throat, Kyle said, “Yes, Mr. Frazier, it seems you just missed all the excitement this evening.”

Wellington
leaned forward. “The desserts were fabulous by the way.”

“You all came this c
lose,” Oscar said, holding his index finger and thumb a centimeter apart, “to watered-down packaged hot chocolate and store bought cookies.”

“I’m so glad you changed your mind.”
Wellington gazed at him solemnly while motioning for Kyle to continue.

“What did you do after leaving us in the
kitchen?”

“I gave
Ms. Gray and Mr. Kirby their
pudding
and then went to my room. To relax. To recharge.”

“Did
you notice anything strange?”

“Other than the fact
that my award winning carrot cake was sitting uneaten on the bar not five feet away? No, I did not.”

“You must have
,” Kyle said. “You had only just left when we found everyone unconscious. You didn’t notice everyone sleeping?”

Oscar looked uncomfortable. “I thought they were all just tired.”

“What about Robert Kirby?” Kyle asked. “Didn’t you think the knife in his heart was a tad strange?”

The chef shook his head. “I didn’t see any knife. Mr. Kirby was awake when I handed him his pudding. He seemed rather tired
, but he was alive when I left him.”

S
ara raised her hand. “I think I was still awake at that time. I vaguely remember seeing Mr. Frazier walk through the car. I must have passed out right after he left.”

Kyle turned back to the chef.
“Do you know Robert Kirby?”

“Never met him.” Oscar stood up. “
Can I go now? I don’t exactly feel safe out here.”

“Why?
” Kyle asked, somewhat perplexed. “You don’t know these people. More than likely this murder was personal.”

Oscar looked at Kyle doubtfully. “What if I . . .”

Kyle looked over at Wellington who was staring at the ceiling. “What if you what?”

Oscar sh
rugged nonchalantly. “What if I . . . did see something?”

“What
?”

“How much would it be worth to you?”

“It just might be worth your life,” Kyle said, “If you know something then it’s in your best interest to share it with us as quickly as possible.”

Oscar scowled.
“I’m retiring soon. I have five ex-wives and ten children. Six of them under eighteen. The information I have may be worth more than my life.”

Kyle glanced at
Wellington who had finally looked down from the ceiling. “There may be a reward offered,” Wellington said.

“How much?”

“It’s hard to say. I’d have to talk to Mrs. Kirby.”

Irritated, Kyle shook his head. “Why don’t you do the right thing and tell us what you saw
? If the information is good and if there is a reward, we’ll mention your name.”

Oscar sniffed. “But you have no guarantee.” He stood up and headed to the connecting door, throwing over his shoulder a dismissive, “We’ll talk when you know more.”

Wellington
glared at Oscar’s back. He nodded his head slightly as his eyes flitted from Sara to Oscar. Almost immediately, Sara closed her book and followed Oscar out.

Kyle waited till the door closed behind Sara before asking,
“How long has she worked for you?”

Wellington
looked up at him in surprise. A smile lit up his face. “Very good. A year and a half. She’s one of my best. Very impressive, Kyle.”

“Not really. She showed Grace her license.”

“Oh,” the older man said in disappointment. “Still, good job questioning the suspect. Very good.”

Kyle s
hook his head. “How can we trust him?”

“How can we not at this point?
Whatever information he provides will have to be properly vetted. Don’t worry; I’ll have a talk with him again. I have a feeling he’ll be coming forward soon enough.” He looked at Kyle intently. “Now, let’s go back to what we were discussing before Mr. Frazier came in. Who had access to the hot chocolate?”

CHAPTER fourteen

Grace opened the
door to the sleeping car and quickly stepped out of the vestibule. She was starting to dread having to walk through the small, steel, cold boxes when passing from car to car.

She closed the door behind her and made her way down the corridor and to Sara, who was standing in front of one of the windows,
staring out into the darkness. She acknowledged Grace with a brief nod. “Have you looked outside? It’s getting worse.”

Sleet and snow w
ere pounding against the glass and for the first time since boarding, the wind could be heard over the noise of the train. It seemed to howl as the train barreled through it.

Sara pressed her face closer to the glass. “I think we’re on a bridge.”

Grace’s stomach did a little somersault as Meredith’s prediction echoed in her mind. She didn’t know what was worse, that they were now caught in a snowstorm or that Meredith’s forecast was actually correct. As far as Grace was concerned, it was a toss-up. Meredith was probably already thinking of all the various ways to say, “I told you so.”

Just then a gust of wind pushed against the side of the train.

Feeling a bit sick, Grace backed up until she was leaning against the wall. “Do you think we’re safe?”

Sara gave Grace a patronizing smile
. “I doubt Jack’s going to try to kill you.”

Grace opened her mouth to respond
, when she felt the train give a little shake. “What was that?”

Sara squinted as she peered through the glass. “It’s hard to tell
, but I think we’re off the bridge now.”

Smiling in relief, Grace sent a little prayer of thanks above. To think having a killer on board was the least worrying thing about this trip. Why did she
want to take this trip, again? she asked herself once more. She suddenly remembered. Kyle. Speaking of whom, she asked, “Is Kyle still with Mr. Wellington?”

Sara’s mouth quirked up in wry amusement
. “I think Wellington’s ready to adopt. He’s barely said two words to me since I boarded.”

Grace smiled, for some reason ridiculously proud of Kyle for having made such a good impression. “Have you seen Steve?”

“Mr. Wellington wanted to question Henry again. Steve went to fetch him.” Sara grinned mischievously. “I think he’s enjoying running errands for the boss again. I may let him do it for the rest of the trip. Treat this like a real vacation.” She looked past Grace’s shoulder. “Ah, here’s Kyle.”

Grace turned to see Kyle
step into the corridor. “Just the two people I want to see,” he said motioning them to follow him into his room. As soon as the door was closed, he turned around. “Why are you tormenting Steve?”

“I am not,” both women said in unison.

Grinning at Grace, Kyle pointed at Sara, “I was talking to her.” He turned to Sara. “He likes you, how’s he going to feel when he finds out you’ve been playing with him all day?”

Sara glared at Grace. “I thought you promised not to te
ll a soul,” she said sternly, her normal bubbly voice suddenly disappearing.

“Sorry,” Grace said
, not the slightest bit remorseful. “My loyalty is to him,” she said pointing to Kyle, “not to the Wellington Detective Agency.”

Pleased,
Kyle smiled at her before turning back to Sara. “Steve is going to be hurt when he finds out you’ve been lying to him.”

Feeling somewhat chastened, Sara looked away. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being terrible but . . .” She
looked at them solemnly. “In my defense, I am undercover. I have my orders.”

“H
e used to work with your agency. Doesn’t that count for something?” Kyle asked.

Sara shrugged helplessly. “
Wellington has his reasons. Look, I’m not particularly happy about it, either,” she said defensively.

“You could have fooled me,” Kyle said. “You seem to enjoy dropping little hints and watching them fly over his head.”

“I’m afraid, I have been amusing myself wondering when he’d finally remember me,” Sara admitted reluctantly. Holding up her hands in supplication, Sara slid into the only chair. “I’ll talk to Wellington.”

“Good,” Grace said leaning against the door, “then you can let him know that
we’re going to tell Steve whether he likes it or not.”

Sara
, in the process of kicking off her high heels looked up sharply. “Why don’t we just announce it to the whole train? I’m not doing this to be cruel, you know. Jack’s been locked away for the past year and my boss is the one who helped put him there. I’m betting he’s been nursing a pretty big grudge against Wellington and Steve ever since. I can better protect them both if no one knows who or what I really am.”

Grace blew out a frustrated breat
h. “Sara, what makes you think Jack or whoever killed Robert Kirby is going to be fooled by your disguise?”

“Why not, it’s fooled Steve.”

“That’s not hard,” Grace said.

“Oh, now who’s being cruel?”
Sara asked.

Kyle sat down on the bed across from Sara. “Grace is right.
Jack obviously knows exactly who you work for. Why else would you be on this train?”

“
Unlike everyone else here, Jack Horner didn’t arrange for me to be on this trip,” Sara said lightly. “I doubt he remembers me.”

“I
f Jack Horner is determined to exact some sort of revenge for what happened last year,” Grace said, “I’m sure he’s committed all the players to memory.”

Sara waved her hand dismissively. “I wasn’t that big of a player.”

Kyle and Grace exchanged disbelieving looks.

“Then why are you here?” Grace asked.

“I got a tip this morning that Wellington was in some sort of trouble. I hightailed to the station with only seconds to spare. Well, you saw me, Grace.” Sara glanced out the window. “It’s possible Jack Horner set this up, but I kind of doubt it. I mean, why wait ‘till the last minute to invite me to the party. Five minutes later and I would have missed the train.”

“So, what exactly did you do on this case?” Grace sat down next to Kyle.

“Not much. At that time, I was just starting out. I’d shadow the detectives, get them coffee, and run errands or reports back to the office. You know, your basic gopher work. I was shadowing Steve the day he . . . wrapped things up.”

Grace noticed the slight hesitation in Sara’s voice.
“Why do I have the feeling something went wrong?”

Sara frowned.
“That would be an understatement.”

“Why did Victor hire your agency?”
Kyle asked.

“At first we were just there to determine who was stealing f
rom the company and to provide a background check on Lucas’ fiancée.” Sara chuckled. “That was easy. Lucas practically admitted to the theft.”

“What did he do with the money?” Kyle asked.

“He spent it on Merry. He bought her this huge diamond engagement ring. Took her to all these fancy places.”

“What did Steve find out about Meredith?” Grace asked.

“Nothing. She had a clean record. We couldn’t find anything bad about her. Not even a traffic ticket. If it had just been about those two things, Steve would have been fine, but unfortunately other problems kept cropping up during the investigation.”

“
Are you referring to the fire?” Kyle asked.

“
That actually happened right after Steve had given his preliminary report on Meredith. Victor was furious. I guess he thought Steve should have anticipated the guest house being set on fire,” Sara said bitterly. “That one was pretty easy to investigate though. Robert told us that Jack had been acting erratic for weeks. He had even threatened to kill Victor. To burn him up, he said. You add in the fact that several people saw him run from the building and then we found the gas cans in his room the next day . . . it was an open and shut case.”

“Felicity
seemed pretty certain that Jack was innocent,” Grace said.

“
Felicity has her own agenda,” Sara said. “You know those death threats she keeps harping about? The family was convinced she was just making them up.”

“Publicity for her book?” Grace asked.

Sara nodded. “Or to get her husband’s attention. To be honest, at the time I was convinced she made up that story about someone dragging her into the guest house and setting that fire to kill her.”

“Why?” Kyle asked.

“There was just something off about her and Parker’s timeline. We figured that if they were telling the truth then someone would have had to set the fire first, then knock her out and then drag her body to the house, which doesn’t make much sense. If you were going to kill someone that way, you’d knock them out first and then set the fire. Not the other way around. I just thought they were lying.” Sara chuckled. “Parker and Felicity have a bit of a reputation for being a tad eccentric.”

“That’s putting
it mildly,” Kyle said. “What exactly is their relationship to one another?”

“Oh
, that turned out to be the million dollar question,” Sara said with a grimace. “Victor wanted an answer to that, as well and that’s when everything blew up.”

“
What happened?” Grace asked.

“
Victor Kirby called the office on December thirtieth in a foul mood. He was tired of waiting for Steve to finish his investigation and demanded that he present his findings immediately. So, Steve and I showed up the next morning. Steve wasn’t even finished with his investigation, but Victor didn’t care. Not only did he want Steve to give his report, but he wanted everyone in the family to be present for it.”

“Oh, I’m sure that went over well,” Kyle said.

Sara’s face turned a rosy pink. “It was a nightmare.”

Grace leaned forward. “Why?”

“Because Steve didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear. He told Victor that Felicity wasn’t having an affair, and Victor went ballistic. It wasn’t Steve’s fault though.” Sara’s eyebrows knitted together. “Wellington ordered Steve to tell Victor that Felicity was faithful.”

“Really?” Kyle asked. “That’s interesting.
Why?”

Grace looked at him curiously before turning back to Sara.

Sara bit her lip. “Mr. Wellington told us that he had already investigated them and that the rumors of her and her assistant were untrue. Victor didn’t believe it. He started screaming at Steve that he was completely incompetent. Poor Steve, he got so flustered. He just stood there in silence while Victor Kirby berated him. I tried to leave, but Victor wouldn’t let me.” She scowled. “I think he enjoyed having an audience. Like I was impressed that he could bray like a donkey.”

“Poor Steve
,” Grace said wincing in sympathy. She glanced over to the door as she thought about Felicity and her near-death experience Christmas Eve. “You said you
had been
convinced that Felicity had made up that story about being dragged into the fire. Are you no longer convinced?”

“Someone shot Parker in the arm the
day after the fire.” Sara grinned. “It was only then that Steve and I started to suspect they were telling the truth. Their story still didn’t make a lick of sense, but crazier things have happened.”

“
Do you know who shot him?” Kyle asked.

Sara shook her head.
“We have no idea. Victor told the police that it was probably Felicity, but she denied it.”

“Why would Felicity shoot Parker?” Grace asked horrified.

“I don’t think she did,” Sara said. “She was hysterical when we found him that morning and I don’t think she was acting. Robert and Lucas suspected Jack, but we really have no idea. Parker wouldn’t cooperate with us or the authorities. He wouldn’t tell us where he had been or what he had been doing. He just kept saying that it wasn’t a big deal and that he would take care of it.”

“Do you have any idea who would have wanted Felicity dead?” Kyle asked.

“Well, Felicity or Tracy,” Grace added. “She could have been a target, as well.”

“
It’s doubtful that they were after Tracy. No one knew she was sleeping there that night and according to her, she had just climbed into bed when the fire alarm went off. And as to who wanted Felicity dead . . .” Sara chuckled. “Take your pick. Keep in mind, she was the much younger wife of a millionaire.”

“What happened after Steve gave his report to Victor?”
Grace asked.

Sara grimaced. “
Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the bad part, yet,” Sara said. “After Victor was done screaming at him, Steve suddenly decided that there was this big conspiracy to frame Jack and have him committed.”

“What did Victor say
about that?” Kyle asked.

“Victor called him an idiot, but then demanded to know who was involved in this conspiracy. Steve tried to back down at that point. He kept telling
Victor that he still needed time to investigate, but Victor wouldn’t hear of it. So, Steve offered up some of his theories,” Sara said cringing. She looked embarrassed. “It turned into one of those surprise denouements you see in mystery movies where the detective lays out the case in front of all of the suspects and then accuses one of them of the crime. It did not go well,” she said with a groan while staring at her feet.