Murder at Blackberry Inn

Murder at Blackberry Inn

Copyright: Camilla Chafer

Published: April 2018

Previously published as Alibi in April.

ISBN: 978-1-909577-19-0

The right of Camilla Chafer to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

Visit the author online at www.camillachafer.com to sign up to her mailing list and for more information on other titles.

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Contents

Copyright

Synopsis

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

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Murder at Blackberry Inn

Vanessa Wright never planned to return home to Calendar. But her relationship ends, her job disappears, and she suddenly inherits a former inn from her great aunt, so she concludes it’s finally time for her to return to the sleepy mountain town. Although it was where she grew up, she has no plans to stay there for long. All she must do to get her life back on track is fix up the inn and find a buyer.

The Blackberry Inn has lost some of its charm and good looks over the years, going from gorgeous, Victorian-era splendor to being relegated to a dilapidated fixer-upper. It’s going to be one helluva a job to restore it to its former glory. Fortunately, Vanessa isn’t afraid of a little hard work. She boldly confronts her first night alone in the big, old house with determination and courage, until she finds a dead body on the veranda. The indications are that a man might have broken in. Who could the failed burglar be? What could he possibly want from the old inn? When successive attempts are made to scare Vanessa out of the house, she has to find out what the victim’s mystery accomplice is seeking and quickly, or she could become his next victim.

With the help of her contractor and old friend, Nate Minoso, Vanessa tries to solve the dead man’s murder. She also has to find out what he intended to steal. More importantly, she must make a big decision in her life: is it finally time to put down roots? Or should she turn her back on her hometown, and Nate, forever?

Chapter One

C'mon, Vanessa. It might not be that bad. My best friend and upstairs neighbor, Mallory, popped the cork from the bottle of wine she arrived carrying thirty minutes ago. She passed the bottle to our friend, Jill, before she rummaged in the box on the kitchen counter. She was searching for the long-stemmed wine glasses I packed only an hour before. A moment later, she turned around and held up the three glasses triumphantly.

It is every bit that bad, I protested. I looked at the boxes spread across the small kitchen and living room of my pretty apartment. My soon-to-be former apartment. Every box was filled with my clothes, books, housewares and appliances. All of my worldly possessions had been reduced to a teetering stack of cardboard boxes and packing tape. Two weeks ago, everything was in its rightful place on my shelves or hanging in the closets and my life was perfect. It was startling how fast it managed to all change. I don't have a job. My quasi boyfriend dumped me, and my landlord refused at the last minute to renew my lease. I'm currently jobless, single, and homeless, I whined.

Remember when you called your job ‘a soul-sucking nightmare’? asked Jill in her gentle Southern drawl. Next to her, Mallory nodded.

Vaguely.

Every day for the past year! Mallory reminded me with a toss of glossy, black hair that made Jill's pale blond hair look even icier. I've never said that about my job.

That’s because you guys love your jobs!

I do, agreed Jill. She worked in a small but very chic art gallery in downtown Chicago and had curated several showings over the past year. And Mallory loves being in fashion retail; but you do not fancy working at that graphic design agency. It's not worth the paycheck. Plus, your boss was a total ass.

All of that was true but instead of arguing or agreeing, I simply nodded and swallowed another mouthful of wine.

And I seem to remember how you often said Barry was so boring, all he wanted to talk about was his tedious dentistry conferences and all the new innovations in mouth retainers. As I recall now, weren't you telling us you weren’t sure you wanted to date him anymore?

I remembered that comment too. I said it on several occasions. Even I was stumped as to the reason why I'd gone on several dates with him. But I never expected him to dump me first! Or for him to hire a gorgeous receptionist whom he found more date-worthy. I held my hand out for the wine glass and Mallory gracefully slotted it in place.

Only Barry thinks she's gorgeous. The rest of us blame it on her blouses being opened two buttons more than necessary and giggling at all of his (yawn) boring jokes while telling him how wonderful he is. Of course, he sucked that up.

She's a gold-digger and he's a soulless worm. They deserve each other, added Jill. It was only a matter of time before you realized he wasn't worth your time.

I laughed. She did talk about his Porsche a lot. Almost as much as Barry did, actually.

Exactly. Yawn. And need I remind you, you're not homeless either? You just inherited that big, old house in that town with the funny name, said Mallory.

Calendar, I supplied. It does have a funny name but that's always been its source of charm. Having grown up in the pretty mountain town of Calendar, my family still lived there, and they fully enjoyed everything the quaint town had to offer. It was seasonally popular with tourists who haunted the chain of antique shops and creative boutiques along with all the holiday events the town hosted. The local residents figured with a town name like that, they might as well play it up by holding a celebration for every month. Even in August, when there were no holidays to celebrate. The festive atmosphere further cemented the town's unparalleled popularity with families and visitors who vacationed there most of the year. Soaking up the town fun, or going for hikes and camping in the summer, as well as skiing in the winter, it attracted plenty of tourists. Another welcome bonus included in all the activity and features was making it a fairly wealthy town and some of the older Victorian-era houses were suddenly irresistibly desirable. Now I unexpectedly was privileged to own one.

That's right. Mallory reached for the wine bottle on the coffee table and refreshed our glasses. You've been wondering what to do with that house since your Great Aunt Ethel...

Edie! I corrected her. A mental image of my lovely, warm, and arty great aunt popped into my head, making me smile. For a while, she used her old house as an inn for travelers, attracting all kinds of people who admired her zest for life and unique art. She stopped all of that a few years ago when her health went into substantial decline, saying she intended to enjoy her last few years peacefully alone.

Great Aunt Edie, corrected Mallory. Like I said, she surprised you by leaving it to you last month and now it could be the answer to all your problems! You have a wonderful home that's entirely yours! You'll find a new job eventually and you don't even need another boyfriend. Boyfriends suck big time.

Jill arched her eyebrows at me before turning to our friend. Is Hal still mad at you? she asked.

One hundred percent irrationally mad.

You do keep calling him Hallory, I said.

Catchy, isn't it? Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about Calendar. Why did you leave it if it's such a great place to live? asked Mallory.

I told you. After college, I never went back. Not permanently anyway. I visit my family obviously and it's great for skiing vacations in the winter, but there's nothing else there for me. It wasn't exactly the most exciting place to grow up. I swore I'd never go back. I recalled my final days there and the going away party I hosted with my friends, Tia, Melissa and Danielle. Like always, I couldn't help including Nate Minoso too and once again, I realized how much I missed him, but we both lost touch. He probably moved away from Calendar anyway. Tia and Danielle did, although Melissa came back after college and recently married a local man.

You're not going there permanently. Just until you get back on your feet. You can sell the house or rent it and finance your move back here! Mallory clinked her glass against mine, then Jill's, as she shouted, Cheers!

Since I don't have to worry about a job anymore and I’m not paying for an apartment to live in, I'll stay just as long as it takes me to fix it up. Aunt Edie was very house proud but Mom said some of the siding needed to be fixed and it could easily use a new coat of paint. That's cosmetic work. It won’t take long! I'll be back before you know it! The house appeared in my head, and the thought was warm as always. It was sturdily built to the highest specifications of the time, and it stood out amongst many of the other Victorian-era neighbors. It had a turret, beautifully-maintained gingerbread trim, and a big, wrap-around veranda. Over the years, the wisteria vine grew unchecked, sending its branches to intertwine with the trim until it formed a stunning purple and green canopy. It was one of the prettiest houses in all of Calendar and I really loved it.

Aunt Edie purchased the house with her husband when they were first married and they lived there for all their lives. Their childless marriage was happy, although they both wanted children very much. They were always thrilled to have nephews and nieces to dote on, although my cousins moved away when they were still pretty young, leaving just my twin sister, Tammy, and me as their most recent visitors. I spent a lot of spare time in Aunt Edie's house, going over there after school and helping my aunt on my college vacations after her husband died. That was when she turned the big, rambling house into an inn. The Inn closed its business doors ten years ago but Aunt Edie lived there until she passed on, just as she wished. When she left it to me in her will, I was both surprised and touched.

Exactly, agreed Mallory. Plus, you don't want to live in that dusty, old house anyway.

It’s beautiful, I said. It was the best house for hide and seek, summer barbecues, and when I think of all the people Aunt Edie allowed to stay there! She once hosted a summer-long artist retreat during my freshman year of college. Everyone wore caftans, even the guys, and they all spoke in this breathy, esoteric, funny way.

That sounds nuts, said Jill, and that’s coming from someone who deals with a lot of nutty artists.

No, what was nuts was the guy who brought his pet mongoose, which later escaped!

Mallory giggled.

I miss her now, I sighed.

I know. Mallory laid her hand over mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Packing up her house will be good therapy for you. You can get nostalgic and do all that reminiscing stuff so you come back home with a clear head. Jill and I talked it over already and we'll come visit you there too.

I brightened. You will?

Absolutely. It won't be the same here without you, especially when the new tenant moves in. You have plenty of rooms in that big, old rambler, so we'll stay with you and bring the wine. We'll cook the food too. We'll even help you make improvements on the house. I don't know what that might entail, she said, waving a silencing hand before I asked what she might do. It'll be like a long sleepover. How does that sound?

I smiled at the thought. Mallory had a way of uplifting me no matter what the situation. Perfect! I can't wait. Just don't leave it too long because as soon as I fix the place up, I have to flip it and get it on the market. Then I can come home and start interviewing for new jobs. I can't stay there, I said. My parents already planted the idea that I could move back, and they got so excited, it was hard to tell them no.

I know. You said that already. Plus, how could you swap all of this for a sleepy, little town in the middle of nowhere? asked Jill, using her hands to encompass the whole room.

Not the middle of nowhere, it’s got mountains!

Mountains! said Mallory as she swallowed the rest of her glass.

That's the third time you've said 'mountains' and taken a drink.

Drinking game, grinned Mallory. You've said mountains seventeen times since I got here. I thought I'd make it more fun.

I turned to Jill. Did you know about this game?

Jill looked at her empty glass and give me a guilty smile. Maybe.

I think you're supposed to do shots in a drinking game, I pointed out.

You packed them already, and I brought the wine. I'm improvising, said Mallory.

I'm going to miss you. I put my arms around my friend and hugged her tightly. She gave me a squeeze in return. Then Jill opened her arms and pouted so I hugged her too.

You'll be back before you know it, she whispered in my ear. There is no way on earth you could give up all this...

I have nothing to fall back on, I reminded her. It was disheartening to point it out, but everything I had, except for Mallory and Jill, was coming with me in my car or would soon be shipped to me.

There is no way you would give up the chance to come back here! And when you return, you'll have lots of money in the bank so you can buy a gorgeous apartment instead of renting one for an exorbitant price. Now, stop being so maudlin. The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll come back. You are definitely coming back? Mallory asked.

I think we already covered that. There is not a single thing on this earth that could manage to convince me to stay in Calendar!

Chapter Two

The road sign indicating the Calendar exit came into view. I yawned, pulling over into the turning lane before I took the off ramp. My last break was more than three hours ago and I was desperate to get to the end of my journey. My water bottle was empty, my eyes were tired and dusk was starting to fall. All I wanted to do was pull up outside Great Aunt Edie's house, take a long, hot shower, and fall into bed. Everything else could wait until the morning, including surprising my parents by coming home almost a whole week earlier than they expected. I hoped my mom remembered that I’d mooted the idea of arriving early.

A half hour off the highway, the sign welcoming me into Calendar appeared at the side of the road. About time, I muttered as I yawned again. My phone trilled with a text message, a reminder that it had already buzzed a whole bunch of times. It was probably my parents wondering how I was and asking me about the situation with the shipping firm I hired. Unfortunately, they would have to wait too.

Despite my fatigue, I was really looking forward to seeing the old house. I hadn't been back to visit in a couple of years although it evoked such fond memories in my mind. It was a shame I had to sell it but it was far too big for me to keep as a single woman. The idea of renting it out to tenants who might not look after it properly didn't appeal to me either. No, it needed a big, happy family and I needed to get home as fast as I could in order to get on with my big city life. Not that it was going as well as I hoped it would.

Muscle memory directed me to the house. I turned onto the street at the far end and drove all the way to the cul-de-sac, pulling up in front of the house formerly known as The Blackberry Inn just as the street lamps clicked on. I switched off the engine, reached for my purse and looked up. What the hell? I whispered, my jaw dropping as I looked up at the house through the car window.

I climbed out slowly, clinging onto the car for support. I looked left then right and blinked more than once. Had I come to the wrong house? No, this was the last plot and I recognized Tia's parents' house next door. So what happened to the wisteria-laden house of enchantment I recalled? The lawn stretching down to the sidewalk was more than a foot high and matted with weeds, and the gentle ramble of blackberry bushes that gave the house its original name had spread rapidly, covering the three-foot, formerly white picket fence and invading the rest of the yard. The brilliant, white siding had lost its sheen and was now tarnished with moss and dirt and peeling heavily. A wisteria branch had rudely punched its way through the porch roof and one of the second floor windows was smashed.

The house wasn't as beautiful as I recalled. It was derelict.

What could have happened?

Reaching back inside the car, I grabbed my purse and slammed the door. I walked slowly up the path, utterly shocked at how terrible the shabby house looked. Great Aunt Edie would have been appalled, not only that, but she would have been grief-stricken. She loved her house and carefully maintained it for decades. There was no way she would have left it to the harsh elements like this.

Holding my arms up and away from the blackberry thorns, I edged sideways through the overgrown path until I could manage to hop onto the porch. Beneath my foot, I heard an ominous creak and quickly sidestepped before edging cautiously toward the door. Slipping my key into the lock, I opened the door and stepped inside, now more than worried about what I might find there.

The air in the large entryway was dry and musty. Dust motes spun up from the intricately woven rug, illuminated by a mere slip of light from the transom window over the door. To my right was a desk with a bell where Great Aunt Edie received her paying guests. For some reason, she never got rid of it even after shutting the doors on the Inn. To the left was the big, formal sitting room. The curtains were drawn and the sofas and chairs were draped with white sheets. A thin layer of dust covered every surface. I reached inside the doorway for the light switch and flipped it on. I was briefly afraid there wasn't any electricity but the crystal chandelier brightened immediately, filling the room with much appreciated light.

Now that I could see it, I was sad at the sight. Although I couldn't escape the overgrown yard, I wondered if it might have been better to save the house's sad flaws until the morning. Seeing how decrepit the house looked, I began to grieve inside.

Cobwebs filled every corner and as I stepped away from the sitting room, I had to make another fast sidestep before entering the spider web that hung ominously from the entryway chandelier. Hurrying past it, I headed for the kitchen, dreading what I would find. What if I saw mice? Or rats? Even worse... no, I couldn't think of anything worse!

I reached for the light switch inside the open arch and flipped the electricity on. Like the sitting room,