A Grave Welcome by Blythe Baker

Author:Blythe Baker [Baker, Blythe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

12

The hallway I stepped into was dim and filled with smoke. I could hear laughter and voices behind every closed door I passed, but it wasn’t until I reached the end of the corridor that I saw Everilda’s name on a slip of paper next to a wooden door. I knocked.

“Come in,” she shouted, not bothering to answer the door.

I pushed it open to find Everilda sitting in front of a vanity, hair pins sticking out of her mouth as she twisted strands of her hair into place.

“Who are you?” Her voice wasn’t angry or accusatory, merely curious.

“Rose,” I said, smiling. “You sounded wonderful out there.”

“Thank you,” she said, clearly flattered. “But customers really aren’t supposed to be back here. Tom won’t like it.”

“Tom?”

She nodded. “Tom Chesney, the owner. It’s against the rules, and he’s a stickler for rules.”

“I’ll be quick,” I assured her. “I just have a few questions for you.”

Suddenly, her body stiffened. Her kind face shifted into a mask. “Is this about Frederick?”

“Oh, well…” I stuttered.

“I already talked to the police,” she said, standing up and smoothing out her dress. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

“I’m not with the police. I have a friend, George Hoskins. He was in here the other night. He said he spoke to you?”

Everilda looked cautious, but the mention of a mutual friend had softened her. “Yeah, I know George. He’s been in The Chesney occasionally. We spoke for the first time the last time he was here.”

“What did you talk about?” I asked.

It looked like she was prepared to answer my question, but then she stopped, turning her head to the side. “Are you the girl from the alley? The one they say was a witness?”

I wanted to lie, but what good would it do? Clearly, people already knew a woman had witnessed the crime, and then I showed up asking about it. I didn’t know much about Everilda, but I didn’t assume she’d be dumb enough to see my visit as a coincidence. “Yeah, I am,” I admitted.

“I should be the one asking you questions, then,” she said. “Didn’t you see Frederick get into a fight minutes before being killed? Tell the police who you saw him with and we’ve as good as solved this case.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” I said, not wanting to go into detail about how complicated the entire situation actually was. Instead, I reclaimed the conversation. I was there to ask the questions. “George said Frederick didn’t like him talking to you and caused a scene? He said they got into a fight.”

She rolled her eyes. “When didn’t Frederick cause a scene? He was constantly in a fight. It was hard to keep up with.”

“He had enemies?” I asked.

She laughed. “I’ve never met anyone less likeable than Frederick. You’d be hard pressed to find someone he could call a friend.”

That seemed harsh. George hadn’t said very kind things about Frederick, either, but I’d expected his girlfriend at least to like him. None of this made any sense.

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