I opened my eyes and looked around. We’d made it, but I didn’t see the Vespa anywhere. “Hold on.” I handed over Olive and ran up the walk to try the front door. Locked. Plus all the lights were off and everything looked quiet. Thank goodness. No one was home.
“She didn’t come here,” I told Zach, climbing back in and shutting the door. I asked for his cell phone again, planning to call Sean with this new information, when another idea came to me. “I don’t think she could get far on the Vespa in this weather,” I commented, glancing out window at the falling snow. The roads were already coated with a slippery sheen, making it hazardous for even cars. Navigating the Vespa, especially for someone inexperienced, would be difficult. She’d want to get as far from here as possible, but where would she go? The airport in Dunston? I just couldn’t see her navigating the mountain roads in the snow on a scooter. Maybe the train station. But I knew the last train out of the Valley had left over an hour ago. She’d probably go after a car. But where would she . . . “Go to the Magnolia Bed and Breakfast,” I told Zach. “Hurry!”
As we sped off, I started punching Sean’s number into the cell phone, only to find that Zach’s phone was out of charge. “It’s dead,” I said, waving the phone his way. “Do you have a phone charger in here?”
Zach reached his hand across the seat toward the car’s glove department. “Yup. Right in—”
“I’ve got it,” I said, batting his hand away and rummaging through the cubbyhole until I located the charger. I immediately plugged it in and waited impatiently for the phone to gain enough charge for a call. In the meantime, we’d pulled onto Sweet Pea Road. After a few more hair-raising curves and one near wipeout, we screeched to a halt in front of “The Grand Lady.”
*
DURING THE DAY, the Magnolia Bed and Breakfast was breathtakingly beautiful. The light pink exterior always brought to mind lazy summer days under the shady branches of a fully blossomed magnolia tree. But tonight, with darkness fallen and snow swirling around the turret, it looked brittle and spooky. “There aren’t any lights on inside,” Zach commented. “Maybe she didn’t come here, either.”
“She’s here,” I said, pointing to the side yard, where a single tire track in the fresh coating of snow betrayed her presence. “Those tracks belong to my Vespa. She must have driven it around the side of the house. Probably to hide it.”
Zach reached for the car door. “Let’s go get her, then.”
“Wait!” I said, pointing to the phone. “There’s almost enough charge to make a call. You get hold of the police. Tell them to send someone right away. Then follow me.”
I cranked the car handle and hopped out, not waiting for his reply. On the porch, a loose board screeched under my weight, the sound magnified by the stillness of the cold night air. I stopped and collected myself, breathing deeply. Slowly I opened the storm door, cringing as its rusty hinges screamed out my arrival. After another deep breath, I tried the knob on the main door. It turned easily. The door was unlocked.
“Cora? Lynn?” I called out, groping the wall until I found a switch. Light flooded the entryway, casting shadows across the hall and into the still-darkened parlor. “Cora, are you home? It’s me, Lila.”
The only answer was the rhythmic ticking of the parlor’s grandfather clock. Suddenly all of Cora’s beautiful antiques, lovingly collected over the years, seemed menacing. “Lynn?” I called again. An abrupt movement made me startle. I whipped around to find Zach standing behind me, holding Olive. “Why’d you bring the dog in here?”
“Yeah, right. Leave her in the car so she can chew up the leather seats? Or worse, freeze to death. You think I want to get fired?” He put her down on the floor and attached the leash to her collar. Then he handed it to me as he removed a brass-headed antique cane from the umbrella stand in the corner. He gripped it like a baseball bat.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” I told him, although my eyes slid over to the remaining cane, one with an ornately carved eagle on the handle. I shook it off. No, Lynn might have helped kill Chuck, the man who’d tormented her for years, but she’d never hurt me. I was sure of it. “You called the police, right?”
“Yup. They’re on the way. Think she’s in here?”
“Yes. I do.” I couldn’t explain how, but I could sense Lynn’s presence. Maybe I had a little of Mama in me after all. “But I’ve called her name a few times and she hasn’t answered. We should wait on the police.”
“Yeah, but Cora might be here. And she might need help.”
Zach was right. If Lynn came to get Cora’s car, she might have . . . No, I just couldn’t believe that Lynn would hurt anyone. Would she? But she had been a party to murder.
“I’m going to check upstairs,” he said.
“No, really, Zach, we should wait. It might be dangerous.”
Zach dropped the leash and swung the cane like a bat. “Listen. I’ll go upstairs and you stay here. Hey, I’m the one who figured out she was the murderer, right? And I play on the summer softball league.”