Sean’s face was solemn. “Luella thought you were far too interested in Marlette’s death, and she wanted to scare you off, so she got Carson to deface your front door.”
“And he claimed to have been no one’s puppet,” I scoffed angrily. “How did those two find each other?”
“They met in a bar,” Sean replied. “After a few drinks, Carson told Luella that he’d do anything to live the good life, to have nice things and stop working menial jobs. Judging from his employment record, he was bright but lazy.”
It was easy to picture the scene—Luella seizing the opportunity to manipulate the embittered man she’d met over shots of tequila, taking him as a lover. Together, they formulated their plan to steal Marlette’s book and then kill him. All in the name of money.
“Carson told us about the deal they made,” Sean continued. “Carson would take on the role as its author. If the book was a success, he was going to be rich, although she was taking a bigger cut. She somehow arranged for the advance and future royalties to be deposited into an account that only she had access to. But Carson wasn’t the pliable lump of clay Luella supposed him to be. Her hubris had been her undoing.”
“She convinced him to play the part of the modest but brilliant thriller writer,” I mused. “But why did he turn on her?”
Sean smirked. “Ms. Ardor felt the net tightening. We were digging around; you were nosing about. Actually, her plan starting falling apart as soon as Jude mentioned that the spot on Marlette’s neck looked like a needle mark. The dead bee she’d planted wasn’t going to do the trick. Once you’d shown her the photo from Woodside Creative Camp, she knew she was going to have to run. Sadly, Carson was waiting for her at home. He had his own key and would often spend time at her place, preferring it to his own apartment.”
“He told you all of this?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Why? And how did he know I was going to Marlette’s cabin last night?”
“Addison told him where you’d be. She’s his half sister. After you left the garden center she called Carson and told him that you viewed him as a murder suspect. She also shared your plans to have supper at the co-op. Carson was already in the woods when you arrived at Red Fox, and then he followed you to the cabin.”
“Addison is Carson’s sister?” It was hard to believe that she’d almost gotten me killed. Then I remembered her immediate reaction to my accusation about Carson. “Did she know he’d murdered Luella? And stolen Marlette’s manuscript?”
“She didn’t know what Carson had done, but she was his alibi for Luella’s murder. Addison did lie for him, although he’d given her some other reason to do so. Now, he wants to protect her. I told Carson we’d drop all charges against her in exchange for a confession. He took the bait. He really cares about Addison. We still need to bring her in for questioning, but no one’s seen her since yesterday.”
I considered all I’d learned, probing the gaps in my knowledge. “But how did Luella know about Marlette’s book in the first place?”
“Apparently, when Marlette first came to the agency, he was hustled out of the office by Zach, and Luella passed by them on the stairs. She’d told Carson that as soon as she saw Marlette, she recognized him as the monster who’d assaulted her, even though he looked like a bum. She realized that Marlette also knew who she was when he ranted at her, but she didn’t even acknowledge him. She managed to follow him later and discovered where he lived.” Sean ran his fingers through his hair. “She kept an eye on him for months, learning about all his hidey spots, and coercing Carson into spying on him, too. She knew Marlette’s novel had the potential for success, because all those years ago at the camp she’d read some first-draft excerpts. According to Carson, she’d never forgotten about that book.”
“So she seized the opportunity to steal the manuscript from Marlette when it presented itself,” I concluded.
Sean nodded. “Setting in motion all that happened these past weeks.”
“Did she do it just for the money? Or was she still out to get Marlette?”
Sean shrugged. “We can only guess. According to Carson, she did it to get back at Marlette for having stolen her girlhood. However, since Marlette never did what she accused him of, and we know this for certain because we found her diary from that summer, I believe it was all about the money.”
“Maybe that was also her motivation when she was a teenager,” I surmised. “She wanted to steal his idea, and when that didn’t work, she destroyed his reputation.” I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting all the pieces fall into place. “Well, I’m glad it’s all over.”